tangerine enthusiast && jason todd loverrrrrr
Last active 3 hours ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
Why do we say “slept like a baby” when babies literally wake up screaming every two hours?
I want to sleep like a middle-aged dad who “rests his eyes” during a Marvel movie and wakes up refreshed, confused, and ready to barbecue.
46K notes
·
View notes
Text
gusy do i go out tomorrow (to gym) or stay home (to write)
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
me after every conversation: shit they’ll never wanna talk to me again
122K notes
·
View notes
Text
am always obsessed when someone says to a character “call off your dog” about another character.
39K notes
·
View notes
Text
NO WAY THEY REMOVED GROUPS OFF QUOTEV
highkey thinking abojt logging into my old quotev account to roleplay so i can pretend george weasley is real 💀
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
highkey thinking abojt logging into my old quotev account to roleplay so i can pretend george weasley is real 💀
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
BATBOYS + BEING THEIR BENCHPRESS.
....because who doesn't want to be lifted by a really fit vigilante !!!!?????
characters written about in this piece : bruce wayne, dick grayson, tim drake, duke thomas
warning : mention of weight and bodies but it's not critical, but you're lit being lifted
note : thank you so much to the person who suggested it !!! we already had push-ups soooo this ties in perfectly !
note 2 : this is my first fic after a stupid long writer's slump, so sorry if it's a bit shit i will do better in the future !
BRUCE WAYNE.
watching bruce wayne work out ??? and you get it all to yourself ??? you thank the lord for it every day
you'd been trying to not bother him too much, but sometimes a person can't help themselves. each time he rested, the metal clanging against its holder as he dropped the bar, you pulled him from his flow
"that looks really difficult"
"i can't believe i get to just thirdwheel your workouts"
"what do you want for dinner?"
by the time he had put down the bar for the fourth time, you opened your mouth to speak, say something about how good he looked with his gelled hair coming out of its cast, the beads of sweat drooling down his temple, tracing collarbone and down to chest
but bruce cut you off
"hey, come here, will you?"
and who are you to say no to that ?
as you approached, bruce leaned back again on the bench, broad chest and big, toned arms all there on display
"what do you need me for?" you'd asked, belly bubbling in anticipation. you couldn't tell if you loved or hated how he had such a chokehold on you
bent slightly at the elbow, he raised his arms up
"want to push myself for my last set"
and, god, was he already sweating
with his help, you attempted to balance on his two large hands, calloused and certain.
though the world was not privy to it, this man was the vigilante detective who perused gotham city once the sun lowered beneath the industrial skyline
you trusted yourself in his hands; the flutter beneath your ribs never-ending as he lowered you down to his chest, and pressed you back into the air with ease
the weight he was using before had to have been tens more than what he was pushing now
DICK GRAYSON.
laughter trickled throughout the bedroom, sunlight beaming through the cracks in the blinds, opening in the sheer curtains
the product of what could only be the laziest of mornings, you'd found yourself hovering, quite literally, above your boyfriend
his legs had come out from under the sheets to hold you up, placed on your lower stomach to take most of your weight; the muscles in dick's arms were straining, extended up, fingers interlocked with yours
and, as you stared down at him, you could only muster more laughs, more giggles
something more nerves than anything
"i'm scared!" you pushed out past your grin
"i'm not gonna drop you," dick replied, laugh huffing past his own lips, tugged so tight in a toothy smile that dimples had etched into the plump flesh of his cheeks, dimples you weren't even sure he'd ever had before. "i promise!"
nerves shooting down your arms, you felt yourself wobble
and you were falling
it wasn't a long drop, nor a hard one,, dick brought his knees in to slow you down, arms coming around your shoulders, holding you in close to his bare chest
you hadn't fallen, it was more like he'd purposely pulled you in
with dick grayson, you could never tell purpose from accident, for they were all as flawlessly executed as each other
laughs spilled once more, yours and his mixing, like meeting chocolate and vanilla; an unbeatable match
"hold on, i want to try something..."
dick's arms squirmed from beneath you, pushing you up slightly
"does involve me being in a position to fall again?" you half-joked
although you trusted him, too much falling and you were sure you'd get some brain damage
"maybe"
without any further convincing, you were laying horizontally across dick's chest, his arms placed firmly beneath you, hands digging softly into skin
TIM DRAKE.
"we could totally do this," you hummed as you turned the phone screen towards him
tim's eyes flickered up from where they had been on his own phone, and the corner of his mouth immediately curled in a smile. "hell yeah, we'd break records"
those words quickly led to your phone perching against a stack of books on tim's desk, leaving an area of space in the middle of his room for your antics
you tapped the red record button and ran back to tim, where he stood a couple feet back
"okay, first things first, which one should we do? do you think you could deadlift me?" you asked, prepared to cut and splice the conversation between efforts once the filming finished
tim stood for a moment, index finger tracing his lips like he were deep in thought... "let's start with the trickier things first, so i won't struggle with them later. i'll bench you."
well, you weren't going to argue with that
you might get squashed when it's your turn to bench him, but you could still try
tim was quick to lay himself flat on his back, making sure he was comfortable, before he lifted his arms up, beckoning you over
of course you knew he was strong, but his lean, skinnier build did cast some doubt over you
with a breath, you attempted to stay rigid as you lay along his hands, his arms immediately beginning to tremor, just slightly
he could do this, of course he could do this
it's being filmed, he doesn't want to embarrass himself too badly
exhaling and inhaling softly, tim began to lower you down slowly, urging his legs to stay still on the ground
once you were so low your clothes brushed against his chest, he pushed up in a quick, though controlled movement
tim was the first one to react, half a gasp, half a laugh running through his throat, and you gave a cheer, clambering off him as safely as possible
perhaps it was the fact tim had been able to do it that gave you the bright idea, the shining courage, that had to shooting to the floor with haste
but as soon as you felt even half of tim's weight on one hand, barely even laying along the other, you could feel the air practically running from your lungs
if you were going to get crushed, at least it would be the man you still had a crush on
DUKE THOMAS.
day bleeding into night, duke found himself eating some dinner on the couch, half his attention on the meaty aroma, half his attention on what show to watch whilst he ate
a door closed somewhere else in the apartment — probably the bathroom — and you came rushing in, phone in hand
"do you think you could lift me?" you asked, causing duke to tear his eyes away from the modern family rerun he had stopped on, chewing coming to a stop
"yeah." he chewed a few more moments. "why?"
placing your phone on the coffee table, you spread your arms. "i mean, actually lift me!"
a breathy chuckle brushed duke's lips as he leaned forward to set down his plate and the remote, and climb to his feet
without another beat, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, just for a few seconds, before carefully placing you back down upon your feet
he moved to sit back down, but your voice stopped him
"that was great and all, but i mean lift. like lift me, like you're at the gym"
duke's eyebrows furrowed, though he stood back to his full height. "where on earth are you getting these ideas from?"
"the internet," you replied, like it were obvious, like it were funny
"so, what do you want me to do?"
"lie down on the ground"
"ground? really? i just started eating"
"then you'll work up your appetite, i want to see if you can bench me"
a more genuine laugh sounded now, and duke followed through, discarding his meal on the coffee table to lay down for you
when you balanced out upon his two hands, warm, safe, not going to falter, you soon began moving
there was never a doubt duke couldn't benchpress you, but you hadn't realised exactly how proficient he was going to be
#aangelinakii#dc#dc comics#dc imagines#dc reactions#dc headcanons#dc universe#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagines#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson imagines#tim drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagines#duke thomas#duke thomas x reader#duke thomas imagines
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
every day i get closer and closer to using emojis like old people.. 😅🤣
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
BATBOYS + SITTING ON THEIR BACK DURING PUSH-UPS.
note : personally i would love someone to push up w me on their back ,,, and also no damian just becquse i couldn't rhink of a scenario soz aloz
BRUCE WAYNE.
the kids had forced offered bruce a night off, after performing his nightly duties too many months in a row. now, sitting in bed with a book, you found it difficult to concentrate on the printed words as your partner lingered on the floor by his side of the bed, his quick breaths huffing through your shared bedroom. what on earth could he be doing? flipping the corner of your page down to save your place, you folded the book shut and put it down, rolling over the bed to peer over the side... only to find your wonderous bruce wayne... doing push ups?
"what are you doing?" you'd chuckled with a soft shake of your head.
muscles rippling beneath the flesh of his back, bruce brought his body down, and then pushed himself back up again, his triceps straining against skin. with a grunt he glanced back at you, never ceasing movement. "i need to get energy out before i go to bed. mind you, i'm not usually relaxing by this time."
another laugh brushed past your lips. "then that's not tiring you out." but bruce only sent you another glance, more sheepish this time; you couldn't blame him, not being accustomed to how one normally retires for the evening.
before he could reply again, you were slinging a leg over the side of the mattress and landing on the plush carpeting. bruce's exercise ceased in curiosity, his head turning to run his gaze over your legs. "oh, no, don't stop on my behalf," you grinned, carefully tucking one of your shins along his back and lowing the rest of your weight onto him.
but bruce wayne didn't falter a bit.
instead, he took it in his stride, tucking his arms and moving down, and then pushing up even faster than he'd been doing before. but he couldn't hide the crescent of his eyes and lines at the corners of his mouth as they turned up — he could do this all night.
DICK GRAYSON.
bullets of sweat shot to the floor with each punch, his flesh grunting against the boxing bag hanging from the ceiling. it never had the chance to swing too far, for he was already hitting it from the other side. although you weren't going as hard at it as your boyfriend, your own limbs were straining from exercise.
with a loud exhale, dick stepped away from the swinging sand bag, holding out a shaking hand to steady it. before it could stop, he was already moving to one of the ready-laid mats.
without a second too long of a break, he was down on his palms, moving up and down, his triceps tensing and bulging in his flesh. the way he kept glancing at you every few moments was making it very difficult to focus on your own workout.
ceasing your movements, you looked over at him with crossed arms. "anything i can help you with?" it was half a joke, expecting him to just grunt a chuckle and shake his head, getting caught red-handed checking you out. instead, he allowed a few seconds' silence, and then hummed.
"yes, actually." his voice was strained against his action, but he'd be damned if he stopped now just to speak. "come here, will you?"
it's not like you're busy or anything. but who were you to deny one dashingly handsome dick grayson your time and energy; especially when that's what you were dating him for.
unable to bite back a smile, you made your way over. "okay... what now?"
"sit on my back."
despite the tension in his throat as he spoke, dick didn't pause his push-ups — and you were supposed to sit on him like this? right...
however strange it may have been to try sit down on a moving man's back, the sheer fact dick could push-up your body weight made it worth it (no matter how many times you fell off before finally sticking it).
JASON TODD.
relaxing days — no work, no appointments, nothing to do — had to be the best days. especially here, as you and jason lay belly-down on the floor, using your glorious free time to complete a puzzle book you'd found at the grocery store the other day.
well... jason was belly-down on the floor; you were belly-down on his back, peering over his shoulder and pointing at the page, giving your contributions.
it got to the point where you were both on the last page, pen marks etched into the paper from where you'd scribbled answers and numbers and words, but you were stumped. with a huff, jason flicked the pen from his fingers, landing with a thump a metre away. "how are they gonna make puzzles you can't even solve? stupid..."
"hey, hey," you chuckled, bringing your fingers to scratch lovingly at his jaw. "i can get us a new one. want to go now?" as the words left your mouth, you moved one leg from where it lay entwined with his, preparing to get ready for an outing.
but jason was too quick, and too stubborn. before you could react, he'd pulled one arm from beneath him and lightly pressed down on your back, keeping you in place. "no, i'm joking," he mumbled. "please, let's just stay."
anything for him.
and so you fell limp against him once more, arms folding beneath your chin so you could rest your head, eyes fluttering closed. silence ran through the apartment, aside from the soft workings of jason's breathing beneath your ear; outside the city buzzed, but, by now, it was more background noise. perhaps a little nap wouldn't hurt—
something was moving beneath you, and your eyes shot open in alarm, arms shooting out from beneath you and clinging to the nearest thing – which happened to be around jason's waist. although you weren't moving, the coffee table beside you was bobbing up and down, and you couldn't possiblt fathom what was happning, until you realised...
"don't want to miss a workout," jason grunted from below, as if reading your mind. no lazy day was truly lazy when you had a jason peter todd to mind.
TIM DRAKE.
"i bet i could do that," tim spoke from the other end of the couch, where his socked feet were prodding your legs, probably in a surreptitious attempt to get them massaged. "no sweat."
you glanced between the tv and him, your lovely boyfriend tim, who would come up in the dictionary if you searched for the word overzealous. on the screen, playing the scene of a bizarre film you'd flipped to, the main love interest was working out when the main character stumbled into the room; there was some fleeting dialogue, and then, before you could find an explanation for it, she was sitting on his back as he continued his workout.
"what, you—" now when you looked over at tim, he had that wide grin on his face, and you knew you were in for something. "you want to try it now?"
without much of an answer, tim was rising to his feet, adjusting the waistband of the linen pyjama pants he wore, and fell to his hands and knees. "i mean, if you insist," he scoffed playfully. "try not to fall in love with me even more."
something about this didn't feel right... tim was certainly muscular, certainly strong — you'd seen him in action — but you didn't have much trust in him this time. regardless of your worries, you shimmied from your seat on the couch and carefully arranged yourself, legs crossed, on tim's back.
he only shook a bit at first, his legs now outstretched behind him, arms firm as logs. but he wasn't moving, just frozen in the plank position.
peering over his shoulder at him, you asked, "what's with the hold-up?"
pink in the cheeks, jaw clenched, tim's voice barely came out through his teeth. "yeah, just... wait—"
carefully – and very slowly – tim lowered himself, and in addition you, down, until his toned chest was millimetres away from the floor, and then, just as slowly, he pushed back against the ground.
once he was back in his starting position, he shifted beneath you, almost toppling you overboard. "okay, okay, i'm done!" he gasped. "my abs are gonna kill me!"
DUKE THOMAS.
being sick for the past week, you'd found it difficult to encourage yourself out of the house to go visit the gym — so, instead, you'd resorted to working out at home.
duke returned home the moment the sun began to dip below darkening clouds, his warmth radiating through the house as he closed the door behind him. he called something into the living room, but it went unheard beneath the instructions playing on the telly.
"oh, you working out?" he hummed as he entered, raking his eyes over your form and the synchronised movements on the tv screen.
mid-movement, you grunted a yeah, and duke edged around you to sit on the couch.
finally, when your break came, you collapsed to your mat and turned to him, grabbing your water bottle on the coffee table. "how was patrol?" you breathed.
the corners of duke's mouth turned up in a grin, clearly bemused by the sheen of sweat along your brow. "yeah, great." his eyes glanced over to the screen — two more minutes of your break, and it looked like you'd be attempting a five-minute plank. "mind if i work in with you?"
you glanced back, sipping at your water, and gave a half-chuckle. "i would've thought you'd be too tired for more exercise."
duke's bottom lip jutted out with a casual shrug. "i've missed you, we can do it together."
unfortunately, you couldn't ignore that little smile, that charm he held like a secret. and so you put your water bottle back on the table and duke joined you, beside your mat.
when the timer was up, you braced yourself for your plank, but duke, also on his knees, caught your attention — some stupid smile lingered on his lips, like he had a cheeky plan. "i don't know if a plank will be difficult enough for me."
"well done," you scoffed playfully. "just because it's easy for you, doesn't mean it's easy for me."
he held out a hand to diffuse any wrong ideas. "no, i just meant i think i know a way to break a sweat."
at this, you eyed him suspiciously, albeit curiously. before you could question him any further, he was on his palms and tip of his toes, gesturing you to sit on his back.
after a few "are you crazy?"s, you found yourself sitting on his back, trying not to touch him too much with your overly-warm limbs, lowering and raising with ease, your youtube workout by now forgotten.
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Personally I think I'm shockingly normal for someone who has spent every day on the internet since they were 12
102K notes
·
View notes
Note
hahaha dont mind me... just thinking about the batboys in crop tops....
REAAAAÀLLL ASFFD ESPECILLY JASON AND DIXK IN A JOHNNY DEPP FROM NIGHTMARE IN ELM STREET TYPE WAY
0 notes
Text
i have two characgers in a zombie apocalypse book i've been writing since last year (real book that i want to be real some day) but i can't for the life of me decide if i want them to fall in love or to be ride or die platonic soulmates
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Add realism to your fantasy stories by having characters from different backgrounds struggle to pronounce each others' names.
"My name is [low guttural sound] but I don't want to hear you butcher it. So you may call me She Who Arises With The Cold Mountain Sun."
"...Is that what your name really means? All that in just one word?"
"Yes. If you stress the wrong syllable it comes out as 'She Who Coldly Wakes Up The Mountain Sun', or 'The Cold Woman Who Wakes The Mountain Sun', and you will not call me that."
"Oh, huh. Could we just call you Mountain Sun, for short?"
"Hmh. It's boastful, almost bordering on blasphemy, but it is flattering. I accept it."
42K notes
·
View notes
Text



✧₊⁺🕯⋆.˚୨ৎ ✧₊⁺🕯⋆.˚୨ৎ ✧₊⁺🕯⋆.˚୨ৎ ✧₊⁺🕯⋆.˚୨ৎ ✧₊⁺



Oh, I like my boys playing hard to get.🧹



28 notes
·
View notes