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#reblog on fanfiction ao3
kkshowtunes · 1 year
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google citing ao3 as a source is so unhinged
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shichidikai · 6 months
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had a dream where i logged in to ao3 and saw this
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so i'm manifesting it for every author who sees this
likes charge reblogs cast, rb to wish kudos and comments upon your favorite fics
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darktiger57 · 2 years
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YOU THERE! YES YOU! FIC READER!
I just read a fic from 2013 and left a comment on the end. The author responded within 3 hours.
Please leave comments on fics. It doesn't matter if you don't know what to say I literally made a joke about a space worm. Please comment on fics it'll make the authors day even if its from 9 years ago.
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cleverlittlejay · 1 year
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So I just noticed some old comments on my fics, and now I’m overthinking replying since it’s been so long. So tumblr:
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ficfinder-general · 11 months
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Basically, I realized that when people recommend fics, they are often tagging the author's Tumblr as well.
I haven't been doing this (I do tag the author in the actual tags, though) because frankly it's often hard to track down what the Tumblr handle is if it's not identical to the ao3 username (and they might not be active or take it as spamming). So I was wondering whether authors have a preference. (Based on my blog, I am primarily interested in writers who publish codywan fics, but anyone can vote!)
Please feel free to elaborate on your answers in the replies/reblogs!
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stardustandash · 1 year
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sotwk · 4 months
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Every time I see a BRILLIANT FIC or ARTWORK with just one or two reblogs I just get so frustrated thinking about all the great creations I have missed out on because people don't reblog things anymore.
And all the great writers and artists who threw in the towel out of frustration. What a loss to the fandom. Ugh.
I'm on Tumblr constantly and I know following blogs vigilantly doesn't guarantee we see every post from our faves. Tags and notifications constantly fail.
Reblogging = sharing. Reblogging is how we discover new content. It is SO important to Tumblr because we don't have subscription or bookmarking features like Ao3.
Please help the fandom out, guys.
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your-mom-green · 1 month
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This might be my top favourite ao3 tag of all time
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ao3polls · 13 days
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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year
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I certainly didn’t see this being on my 2023 bingo card.
Edit: Ya’ll this meme above isn’t accurate anymore since other messages from the group came out. I made this meme when the first initial message came out.
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The meme down below is more correct as to what’s probably happening with Ao3. Also wanted to say that despite the name of group, the people behind it are probably Russians.
Edit: July 11th, So Ao3 is back! Though the donation link is being attacked now. There’s also a second account on Twitter trying to impersonate Ao3.
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gladumf · 11 months
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Fanfic Writers!
ive been thinking about this for a while and I wanna see what people are more inclined to
also, put your fandom in the tags if you want, it would be interesting to see if that affects the answer!
please reblog for bigger sample size!
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theliteraryluggage · 2 years
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NGL, this shit is fucking frustrating as hell.
8 comment threads by a total of 4 different people. After 4 chapters posted! That means on average one person per chapter decided to leave a comment, even if some kind souls left several.
53 people liked it enough to want to keep reading. 4 of them decided to comment. And that's assuming none of those 4 people is subscribed to me as a writer or to the series or not subscribed at all.
Please, I'm begging you. Bring commenting back. We do this shit for free out of sheer love for the characters and their stories and you get to enjoy the results. Please make a habit of leaving comments on fics. I promise it's not that difficult once you've gotten used to it.
Let your fic writers know their work is appreciated, at least a little. Or at some point they will stop doing it.
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i-will-write · 2 years
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me? abandoning wips? no no no you misunderstand me, i have never abandoned a single wip i’ve ever thought of, i just find other wips to entertain myself with until i eventually go back to the other wips i was on years ago
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percki · 5 months
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on my knees
tags: 18+, mature content, MDNI, Gale x reader, f!Tav, 2nd person pronouns, act 3, semi-public sex, porn w/o plot, lap dance, explicit consent, bondage, restraints, dom/sub, switch Gale, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lap sex, hand jobs, overstimulation, orgasm denial, praise kink
ao3 link
“Urgh.” Rolan stands up, wiping a smear of Lorroakan’s blood off the sleeve of his robes. “Your aasimar friend is… violent.”
“I’m so sorry for the mess, Rolan. We can clean everything up –” You glance around the upper level of the tower, at the holy fire, congealed mud, pasty mixture of water and ash, and a fair amount of blood. At the wizard’s broken body, his face swollen with bruises, his mouth agape, sprawled at the foot of his throne of books. “– Um, but it might take a while.”
Rolan waves one long-nailed hand in your direction, his discolored face grateful – if not a bit exasperated. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. You have already done so much for me – consider my debt forgiven, and all will be well.” You smile at that, watching the tiefling wizard grunt with exertion as he hauls Lorroakan’s body towards the portal. “And, erm – help yourself to any treasures you come across, of course. I’ll be… downstairs…” He pushes the corpse through the shimmering portal, and sends you one last earnest, sharp-toothed smile over his shoulder. “...Burying a body.”
With that, Rolan pushes up the sleeves of his robes (sorcerer’s robes, trimmed in silver, unbefitting for a wizard, but they suit him well nonetheless) and steps through the portal, no doubt bracing himself to break the news to his new employees. ‘Hey, so remember those adventurers that just came in? They killed Lorroakan, violently, and I’m your boss now. Surprise!’ You’re sure the staff at Sorcerous Sundries have endured worse surprises; working for Lorroakan sounds akin to an eternity of torture in the Hells.
Aylin sheathes her sword and crosses over to you, removing her helmet. Her ash-blonde hair spills over her shoulders, and her gold-streaked face glistens with blood and sweat. “I shall be at your camp, if you have need of me,” she declares, and inclines her head in gratitude. “You fought well – as you have before. I remain thankful for your assistance.” Less wordy than usual – Lorroakan’s death must be weighing on her. You don’t blame her.
“Thank you, Dame Aylin,” you say, and bow in respect. She smiles at that, silver eyes gleaming.
“Ooh, wait!” Karlach runs up to you, her arms full of wine bottles – no doubt pilfered from Lorroakan’s hidden stash. The woman has a nose for alcohol – she could find a bottle of Baldur’s Grape blindfolded, disoriented, in the middle of a rainstorm. Shadowheart is close behind, a new cloak slung over her shoulders and a fair amount of gold filling her pockets. “We’ll probably go back to camp, too – Fringe and I have to try all this wine.”
“To make sure it isn’t poisoned,” Shadowheart adds, green eyes twinkling with humor. “You can handle yourselves without us, can’t you?”
You grin. “Save a bottle of Mermaid Whiskey for me.”
“Blech. You can have it all.” Karlach sticks out her split tongue, her smile wide. “See ya!” She bolts through the portal head-first: dangerous, with the amount of alcohol in her arms and the fiery infernal engine in her chest. You hear a distant crash, and wince.
Shadowheart follows close behind, calling, “Save the Tyche Pink!”
You hear the rush of wings and look over – Aylin is gone, too, a flash of silver in the clear blue sky. You watch her fly, the wind buffeting her white wings – deva-like, altogether unnatural, inhuman, beautiful in an untouchable, deadly, frightening way – as she soars. The sunlight seems to collect around her, like a remnant of her celestial mother’s power lingers, still, even after the heat and rage of battle is done.
“And then there were two.”
Gale’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up, meeting his eyes. Dark brown, deep, gentle, shining with a light all too familiar. He’s standing by the throne of books, his right hand resting on a copy of Folktales of Faerún: The Angelic Aasimar. 
You kneel over the ashes of the water myrmidon, sifting through the remains for treasure. Nothing. “I suppose Rolan will take a while…” You look around the tower once more, keen eyes picking out chests, display cases, bookshelves – anything that could hide a nice new set of robes for Gale, or a dagger for Astarion, or perhaps some armor for Wyll… “Will you cast Feather Fall? I want to look on the lower levels…” You trail off, reading something in Gale’s eyes. His fingers flex on the spine of the book, his shoulders thrown back, his lilac robes fitting his form well. Is he… posing? You smile and straighten, dusting ash off your sleeves, and move to his side, twining your left arm with his right, leaning comfortably against his side. “The Annals are in the vaults,” you say, knowing his primary objective here, halfheartedly attempting to lift his spirits. Thoughts of the Crown are dangerous – you have seen how easily the lure of power can corrupt, a thousand times (with Kagha in the Emerald Grove, with Minthara at the goblin camp, with Ketheric and Gortash and now Lorroakan). But despite your reservations, you know his ambition fuels him, that it drives his fire, that thoughts of greatness and respect do raise his spirits. “We could go down ourselves…”
Gale turns into you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his beard scratching at your neck. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, and sighs deeply, inhaling your scent – blood and smoke and sweat, and the faintest hints of his cologne lingering on your skin. “I… Not yet,” he says vaguely, and kisses your neck again, deeper this time. Your breath hitches as he trails long, searing kisses up your neck, along the line of your jaw, leading up to your lips.
“Gale…” You whisper, voice low. “I –” He nips at your bottom lip, smiling against your chin, and you can feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he says devilishly, oak eyes sparkling, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “I can’t believe…” He blinks, as if waking from a dream, and cradles your jaw with his hand, straightening to his full height.
You kiss him, this time, tasting blood on his lips, and you stop, examining his face carefully. A bruise is forming at the bridge of his nose, blood tracing a path down the apex of his lips to his chin. You frown, brow creasing in worry. “You’re hurt.”
“Hm?” Gale touches his face gingerly, delicate, careful fingers prodding the quickly-purpling skin. “Oh. Yes. That. It’s quite alright –”
“It’s not alright,” you reply. “Let me heal you.” You take his shoulders in your hands and guide him into a seated position on Lorroakan’s throne, his back reclined against a collection of Ramazith’s annotated tomes. You kneel before him, positioning yourself between his legs, and summon a simple healing incantation, your hand hovering over his nose, the blue glow of the spell reflected in his eyes. “Te curo,” you murmur, and watch as his skin knits itself together, blood drying, swelling fading, the bruise vanishing beneath your fingers. “Better?”
“Better,” he admits, and looks at you with intent in his eyes, his gaze dark and focused on your features. “My love,” he starts, then hesitates. His face turns a delicious shade of pink.
“Yes?” You lean forward, hanging onto his words. He adjusts his legs, his thighs bracketing your shoulders, and you feel the slightest thrill at your compromising position, you in your armor and him in his robes, you kneeling before him like a supplicant at an altar.
“Rolan may not return for some time,” Gale says. “We could…” He stops again, biting his lip.
You guess his meaning immediately – your thoughts are remarkably in-tune. You can’t deny that you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t wished for… Well. For Gale. Your peaceful nights since arriving in the Lower City have been few and far between, interrupted as they are: by vampires, by nightmares, by Orin’s ministrations. It’s been some time since you and Gale had time to yourselves.
And now, it seems, you have all the time in the world.
“Do you want to?” You question, and his eyes darken, his pupils expanding infinitesimally. You lean forward, cupping his cock with your hand, and smile to feel him already half-hard beneath your touch.
“I – yes,” he breathes, and raises his hand to cast Mage Hand, the incantation on his lips, when you catch him by the wrist, holding him still.
“No magic,” you say breathlessly, and straighten back up to your full height, smiling down at him. “As mortals do, remember?”
Gale watches you intently as you undo the first few buckles of your armor, leather slipping between your fingers. He sits up, reaching out his hands to help –
And you push him back.
“Don’t move,” you warn him, and plant one hand securely on his chest, holding him in place, as you draw a piece of silken fabric out of your pack. You hold it up for him to see, and upon realizing your intention, his eyes widen, pupils expanding impossibly wide. “Do you want this?” You ask, and he confirms with a nod of his head. You narrow your eyes and lean in, your face centimeters away from his, your breath ghosting on his lips. “Say it, please, love.”
He swallows thickly, eyes locked on yours, and says, his voice a rumble in his chest, “I want you to tie me up.”
You smile, and reward him with a bruising, biting kiss. “Good boy,” you murmur, and relish the way his face reddens, his jaw going slightly slack at the praise. “Lean forward for me?” He acquiesces, already holding his hands behind his back, and you climb up into his lap to twine the silk around his wrists, your touch featherlight and gentle. You test the knot, and smile. Not too tight – but he certainly won’t get any ideas about spellcasting. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yes,” he says into your shoulder, his voice muffled by the layers of your armor. You stand back up and step completely out of your clothes, metal buckles and buttons clinking as your many layers fall to the floor, and then you stand before Gale in your undergarments, your skin rising with goosebumps from the cool air, his eyes roving a path up and down your figure.
You feel a little warm from the intensity of his gaze, but you steel your nerves and continue. You reach out with your senses, using the knowledge of the Weave that Gale taught you of so long ago, and you can feel a soft tinkling at the edge of your perception, the distant sound of music, and you pull it towards you. In one of the pleasure dens far below, a slow, sensual number starts up, and you filter the sound through the available space, filling the tower with music.
Gale’s lips part as he realizes your plan. “Love,” he starts, “I haven’t –”
You feel a twinge of self-doubt, standing there near-nude before a man who is completely clothed. You have no experience with this whatsoever – apart from what you have read and seen – and you’re not sure that Gale loves you enough to forgive you if you make a total ass of yourself. “This is okay, right?” You rush to ask, holding your hands out for his before realizing that he’s still tied. You tuck them behind your back, straightening your posture. “Um – I know this is probably unusual, but, you know, in the Quarta Sune –”
Gale grins, his dimples making a rare appearance, and the sight of it pulls at your heartstrings. “You are perfect,” he promises, lifting his dark eyes up to your face. “This is perfect. Please, keep going.”
The slight rasp of his voice goes straight to your core, and you step forward before you’re entirely conscious of your movements, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He leans into you with a groan, and you can feel his shoulders move, his hands resisting the bindings, and you pull back. “No touching,” you say softly, “right? This is about you.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, his expression adorably resentful, and you laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose.
“Later,” you promise, and with that, you stand up, and turn away from him, facing the windows, the setting sun illuminating your skin. The music restarts, strings amping up, and you sway your hips to the tune, letting instinct take over. One, two, three, you breathe, feeling the rhythm run through you, and as the music crescendos, you drop down onto Gale’s lap, your ass just brushing over his thighs, hoping your undulating body looks sensual rather than spasmodic, and your efforts are rewarded with a delicious, blinding groan from behind you. You turn back around to face him – one, two, three – and lean in close, your scent intoxicating, his body warming your skin, and bracket his legs with your knees, one hand carding through his hair and the other slowly unbuttoning his robes, your knuckles barely brushing the velvet-soft hair on his chest. You slide your hands down the planes of his torso, and then, just as he’s leaning forward, again, anticipating your lips on his –
You step back again, turning, lifting your hands over your head and letting your hair down, smiling to yourself as you peek over your shoulder at his exasperated face. One, two, three. You let your ass ghost over his lap again, closer this time, holding there for a few moments longer than he considers tolerable, and just as his patience goes and his hips buck, you return to your starting position, looking down at him chidingly.
“Please,” he whispers, and you raise your brows, your hands going to the clasp of your bra. He watches, rapt, as you slide the fabric off your breasts and let it fall to the ground atop your discarded armor, your nipples peaking in the cool air. You repeat the motion with your panties, and you’re sure Gale catches sight of the soaked fabric as you toss it aside: his face turns a flattering shade of crimson, his arms straining against his silken ropes.
“How can I deny you?” You say, and with smooth, uninterrupted movements, you slide onto his lap, rocking your hips back and forth, tantalizingly slow, atop him. His robes slip open completely, and you can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his undergarments, barely brushing against the skin of your thighs. Your hands roam along the skin of his chest, thumbs swirling careful circles in the dips of his collarbone and shoulders, your palms warm against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praise him, and lean forward to kiss along the line of his clavicle, then slowly up his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, tasting his sandalwood cologne, his soapy shaving cream, the sweat and salt lingering there, your tongue pulsing against his jaw. “So good for me,” you continue, running your hands through his hair, “you’re perfect, Gale.”
And then, surprising him, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees, slotting your body perfectly in between his legs, and in one swift motion, you free his aching cock from his undergarments and lean forward once more, fitting your lips around the head.
“O-oh,” he moans, straining to keep still as you take him deeper, your hands tracing patterns on the skin of his thighs, reaching up to his hips, your nails scratching lightly, and then, as you adjust yourself and push him back so as to get more leverage, you wrap one hand around his shaft and devote the other one to palm gently at his balls, still a touch too gentle. “Mmm – more,” he sighs, and you obey, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and then fitting it back in your mouth, deep enough to brush the back of your throat, pre-cum salty on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, looking up at him through lowered lashes, and his mouth falls open, releasing the most pleasurable moans and groans, sighs and mewls slipping between his lips, chanted noises that may be words – you catch the sound of your name, and please, and yes, in the chorus of sounds that escape his chest, rising and falling in octave with every swipe of your tongue and bob of your head. “P-please,” he says again, “please, let me –”
You guess his meaning, and reach behind him; the movement sending his cock to the very back of your throat, and his back arches in pleasure; and pull the strings of his bindings, untying his hands. The moment he’s free, he takes your head in his hands, cradling your jaw, and lets his fingers twine in the strands of your hair as you suck with renewed eagerness, sliding back nearly completely only to take him in fully again, the feel of his cock in your mouth dizzying, intoxicating, sending white-hot shivers through your body –
You glance down, and through the haze of pleasure, through the shadows of sunset, through the sweat and slick on your body, you see a flash of blue cupping your cunt, and you can suddenly feel the gentle, not-quite-there brush of the Mage Hand’s fingers against your clit. You war between pleasure and indignation for a moment – and indignation wins. You pull back, Gale’s weeping cock inches away from your mouth but still suspended in midair, and he huffs, putting his hands over his eyes, his pleasure cut short just on the path to climax. “Why did you –”
“No magic,” you repeat, and you can feel the Mage Hand dissolve. Gale peeks out from through his fingers, caught, and not the least bit ashamed. “Do I need to tie you up again? Completely, this time?”
“I –” His cock twitches, beads of precum leaking from the tip, stunning the both of you into silence.
You let a devilish grin slide across your face. “Oh. You want me to tie you up, love? Top to tip, completely trussed up for me?” You pull away from him and reach in your pack for more ribbon. “Red or purple, my sweet?”
Gale manages an arrogant smile, his face still flushed red. “Purple, of course.”
“Good choice,” you grin, and stand, running the ribbons through your hands reverently. “This will only take a minute,” you promise. “Why don’t you take those bothersome clothes off before I get started?”
He does, and you let your eyes run over his figure appreciatively for a minute before going to work. Hands on the ‘arms’ of the throne, the ribbon secured around a stack of encyclopedias. His legs against the respective ‘legs’ of the throne, straining slightly against his bonds. You stand before him, and he angles his hips up slightly, his eyes pleading.
“So cooperative,” you murmur, running your hands gently up his thighs. “So patient. So good.” You lift your hand to your mouth and spit on your fingers, holding eye contact, and he breathes shakily as you wrap your hand around his cock, leaning forward, mouthing kisses along his neck and collarbone. You start slowly, tantalizingly, pumping your hand along his length with a careful, measured speed that makes Gale’s breath hitch in his throat.
“Please – more,” he moans, his lips chasing yours. “Faster.”
You acquiesce, moving quicker, twisting your wrist the way you know that he likes. His breaths come faster, too, a mindless stream of yes and please and more coupled with your name falling from his mouth. You kiss him with bruising intensity, feeling his cock twitch in your fingers, his body straining against his bonds.
He comes with a muffled yell, his eyes rolling completely back in his head, and you kiss him fiercely as his come paints your stomach and thighs where you sit atop him. “Please – gods – please, untie me, let me –”
You smile against his lips and loosen the ribbons, yelping when his arms encircle you with surprising strength, lifting you up by your thighs and laying you out on the tile floor of the tower, the ground cold on your skin, your head canted back as Gale trails kisses down your thighs. “Ah – Gale,” you sigh as his fingers whisper up the inside of your legs, your skin rising with goosebumps. “I can’t –” You try to lift your head, to see where he is and what he’s doing, but your neck won’t cooperate. “What –”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale murmurs into your thigh, his hand lifting your leg to his lips, his beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “There’s only so long I can go without magic, my love. I thought –” Here, his tongue slides up to your cunt, tracing around your lips gently, and you moan, your boneless body arching in pleasure. “I thought you might enjoy feeling how I felt. Constrained. At my mercy.” His tongue winds a circle around your clit, and your breaths come faster, your thighs shaking madly. “Do you?”
“Do I – ah – what?”
“Enjoy it,” Gale says into your cunt, and the vibration makes you shudder.
“I – yes, I – please, I want to touch you, I want to –”
“Mmm,” Gale hums, his tongue working careful, restrained circles around your clit, dipping down to taste your slick. “Not yet.”
It’s been less than two minutes, and you’re already shaking, riding high, your eyes unfocused, as Gale takes you apart with his tongue. The painted constellations of the ceiling dance in and out of focus, and your moans echo around the circular tower, a mix of yes and please and Gale falling from your mouth, a reminder of the way you coaxed Gale’s orgasm from him with delicate fingers not five minutes before. “Gale, I – oh, gods, I can’t – please, I want to see you, I –”
The spell breaks, and you lift your head to see Gale’s face completely buried in your cunt, his sweaty hair spread out on your thighs, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and the image is enough to send you over the edge, a scream in your throat, your legs shaking wildly as you come, Gale’s tongue still working at you gently, until the sensation is too much and you kick him softly, signaling get off me, because your vocal cords aren’t working at the moment.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and crawls up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and heady. “But we should probably go before Rolan comes back. I suspect we won’t have an opportunity to take advantage of his hospitality again.”
“Gale…” You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, your eyes fluttering shut. “You might have to Dimension Door us out of here. I don’t think my legs will move.”
“I’ll carry you,” he smiles, and helping you stand, he laces his robes back up and aids you in buckling your armor. “Now come. There’s a bath at the Elfsong that’s calling my name.”
You sigh softly, leaning your head into his shoulder, and watch dreamily as he conjures the portal. “Wait – what about the Annals?”
“Oh.” Gale looks down at the lower levels of the tower. “I suppose we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looks almost downcast, but then the expression fades, and he’s just Gale again, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”
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secretidentie · 4 months
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My Superbat prompts
I've been reading superbat since forever and I finally got a tumblr account so I thought I could ask some writers to use these.
Clark kent is at the manor to interview Bruce Wayne when Dr Freeze attacks and they're basically snowed in. Bruce trying to hide secrets and Clark getting the chance to write the story of the year in the form of an I depth exposé from inside the home of billionaire blah, blah, blah... Chaos and fluff.
Bruce is in a love triangle with superman and Clark Kent. Clark assumes Bruce knows he's one person. Bruce decides to solve this by brooding and going on a series of dates with them both until he decides who's his perfect match. (you decide if Clark knows Bruce is batman but think both versions are hilarious)
Bruce Wayne has to go undercover as a carnival worker in a small town on batman business. After the Daily Planet is bought out by corrupt government officials, Clark quits and goes back home to Smallville. He feels like he's changed and isn't as fulfilled by the simple life, not to mention how much harder it is to keep being superman. He doesn't even feel useful on the farm and can't find a job he enjoys to make some money of his own and leave the house. He starts visiting the fair to take his mind of things and meeting this handsome carnival worker who he definitely would have recognized in a small town like this.
LexCorp frames Wayne enterprises for some shady dealings putting the company under investigation which might even lead to it filing for bankruptcy. While Fox and others fix this, Bruce, as the face of the company, is advised to lay low and leave Gotham for a bit. He decides to get an apartment in the cheap side of Metropolis, since all his assets are frozen and he only has one working bank account. On top of that he has to deal with his hot new roommate (or neighbor depending on how you write it) who keeps leaving and coming back at the weirdest hours while also trying to keep tabs on Gotham and maybe getting himself a job in the mean time. (to be clear Clark is the roommate)
During an argument batman says he could easily do superman's job and superman says the same. So they swap cities for two weeks. First to call for backup looses. (feel free to add romance if you want but it's not compulsory)
Clark final gathers the courage to ask out batman but right before he does, green lantern starts flirting with batman too. Harvey dent is recently released from arkham and claims to be reformed and wanting to rekindle his well known public relationship with his collage sweetheart Bruce Wayne. This causes Oliver queen to also try to win his childhood best friend's heart. It's a very long week for Bruce. (all povs if possible. Also Bruce knows everyone's identities but no one knows his. This also doesn't have to end up superbat, choose your favorite ship. Make this love-pentagon as messy as you can)
These are just a few of my personal favorites. I have a lot more. Let me know if you want me to post them. If fics with these premise already exist let me know coz I would love to read them. You can make it as explicit as you want or make it for general audiences but for my sake please add fluff. If you use these prompts also make sure to tag me here or on AO3.
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hellosweetie99 · 2 months
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Here’s a list of my fav fic tags I’ve seen…Enjoy
Chekov’s sex bag
SWORD IN ASS SATURDAY
Homoerotic fossil collection
Passive aggressive nakedness
Blatant misuse of watermelon
The mortifying ordeal of getting your head stuck in a peanut butter jar
This is set in America…sorry
Possessed squirrel
The trio suffers
The grapes are their own character
Dark Ratatouille
Whiny boyfriend doms the undead
Pranks are meant to be silly…like mpreg
New year new kink
Hahaha ouchie
Cock cage (romantic)
Being a lawyer is kinda gay like wdym your job is getting guys off??
Starfire strap color discourse
Science fiction written by a liberal arts major
Doing cute stuff with a decapitated head
HEY MONSTERFUCKERS PSPSPS FOOD FOR YOU
Jealousy as lube
Basically I took one good look at canon and went 'no'
he gets laid in FUCKING JORTS
Kink is just LARP that makes you cum
I wasn't even planning that but the bisexual gods spoke to me
Barry Allen is a human vibrator
Traveler, that Kavehussy got me acting unwise
Evil cuddling
CBT; As In Cock And Ball Torture In Case You Think I Mean Cognitive Behavioral Therapy
Women topping the fuck out of men
Pussy can't heal a broken man but pegging can make him rethink what he's done.
I'm about to slap him on his he/him pussy
Angelic Grace as Lube
Not a cinnamon roll or a war criminal but a secret third thing
Don’t YOU go adventuring with your pussy out?
Weird freaky cannibal sex
Fellas is it gay to receive a dick pic from your archenemies
scott pilgrim vs the 97 lost dr who episodes
10K WORDS OF FOREPLAY AND A BJ
Sorry, it’s for the vibes
Blood sacrifice? More like their wedding
This is true 2009 faggotry
DO NOT USE PAINT AS LUBE
He’s so stupid I need to fuck him
Vampirism or sodomy?
Viktor’s unfortunate foot thing
This is zero percent furry sorry
The ugly duckling but in a really freak way
The Doctor - - -> nest parasite
Accidental pet acquisition (dragon)
Stimming with a deadly weapon
Oh my god it’s fish porn
Clit reveal!
Petition to name it Lesbian Who
Eating a meal with the man you want to study under a microscope
Spydoc are pegging eachother in my Google docs
Psychosexually torturing an old man as quality time
Lan Wangji is a loser trapped in a hot man’s body
Is Xie Lian brat taming? He just might be
They don’t fuck. They do however get a bit bloody
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