#fandom concept

[i-have-dots-in-my-brain]

What if people wrote Y/N fics structured like choose your own adventure novels

Like.. the readers type out their actions (dialogue, movements, idk) in the comments the top one is the action Y/N takes/the author writes

Every chapter ends with a cliffhanger for the readers to work with

So many possible combos

And also no more “wtf I wouldn’t say/do that” when reading Y/N fanfic

Idk man I don’t read Y/N fic canon x reader fandom whaddya think

[ozzyeelz]

Some creeper concepts that I never posted here :P

[gorjee-art]

Character design commission for @cyanastrologist with their lovely cowboy jackalope character!

[thisnoah]

Partial nudity warning!!

Scar Maps + Cuteness Agression

[ervotica]

BRAT'S INSTAGRAM

rafe cameron x brat!reader

brat is your typical kook princess. prissy, a little stuck up, and has a taste for the finer things in life. she's got fangs and she's not afraid to use them, so watch out for spiteful words and sharp acrylic nails coming your way. she's a total nymphomaniac, of course (like rafe would have it any other way!) but not quite as evil as first meets the eye. sure, she's a princess, but she won't stand for injustice. and - much to rafe's displeasure - she became fast friends with the pogues. collectively, her and jj maybank make rafe's life miserable. but ward approves of her, wheezie comes to her for girl talk, and rafe - albeit begrudgingly - loves her very much. don't cross brat!reader, she might just hurt your feelings!

check out the tag rafey and brat for more of these two!

[uzuriartonline]

During the Ahsoka series, we learn that Baylan Skoll was once a general, so I wanted to conceptualize him during the Clone Wars along with his legion.

[intermundia]

i just read about the "narcissism of small differences," aka the idea that the more a community has in common, the more likely the people in it are to engage in interpersonal feuds and mutual ridicule because of hypersensitivity to minor differences perceived in each other, and i knew there was a reason my time in academia and fandom felt oddly similar lmao

[zephyrchama]

"It's a little hard to walk like this."

You knew this situation was less than ideal for Beelzebub, but you needed him to put up with it.

That's why you assured him, "I'll move with you. Just act normal."

Beelzebub thought that was easier said than done with you crouched under him. He stood in place while you held on to his lower thighs, feet planted next to his and head held low. You had a plan.

Lucifer was mad. You knew he was going to start nagging and never let go when he eventually got a hold of you. Wandering around in the House of Lamentation by yourself was dangerous for now, so you needed a shield. Someone who could hide you from another demon's wrath. Who better than Beelzebub? He's big. He's kind to you. He will protect you.

This wasn't exactly what Beelzebub had in mind when he said he wanted to protect you. This wasn't the danger he expected nor the method of protection he came up with. You intended to cling to Beelzebub with your hands just above his knee and your legs locked around his calves while in motion, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He took three large steps forward, lumbering ahead with an awkwardly slow and comically exaggerated gait. You were really channeling the spirit of humanity's tree climbing ancestors.

Beelzebub was unsure about the whole situation and paused. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Just keep taking big steps like that," you instructed. "I know this will work. I can feel it."

All Beelzebub could feel was your body flush against him and the heat spreading across his face. Endless gluttony was the least of his worries. He kept wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles, even after they stopped audibly cracking. A fidget toy would have come in handy.

"What are you doing?"

That deep, condescending tone could only belong to one prideful demon. You let out an "eep!" of surprise and tightened your grip in hopes Beelzebub would abscond the two of you to safety.

"Lucifer, hi." Beelzebub was far too polite at times to be a demon. You bopped your head repeatedly against his leg in a universal sign meaning "get me out of here! Run!" But the Avatar of Gluttony only created more distance between his legs. He stood in place like an inflexible kid trying to do a split and tried not to think about where you were.

You hesitated to look up. Lucifer looked like he ate a bowl of rocks for breakfast that morning and washed it down with cold medicine. That is to say, he was not happy.

"Beel," he started. "I'm not in the mood for games. Either you join us for what is going to be a productive discipline session, or you hand them over. Now."

A ring of sweat began to drip down Beelzebub's brow. He did say he would protect you, but also, he had plans to get a new jersey with insulated mesh while they were on sale. It was the last day of the sale. He wanted that shirt. He didn't want to linger on the way you were touching him or how you'd willingly let him take you anywhere he desired. You clung tighter and his brain sprinted a hundred miles a minute.

"I have to leave now," he admitted. It was a good thing the two of you weren't able to make eye contact.

"Nooooo!" You bopped your head against him again, this time in despair. Beelzebub lifted his leg with you on it, like he was offering the sacrificial lamb for slaughter. All he had to say about it was a quiet, almost inaudible "sorry."

Lucifer praised his little brother, "you made a wise decision." You felt his gloved hands hook under your shoulders and sensed malice at your back but you refused to go without a fight.

It was a short fight. The slippery Avatar of Pride hit all your ticklish points, ones you didn't even know existed. All it took was one instance of weakness, a reflexive giggle, and within seconds you were in his hold. Lucifer dangled you at arm's length like a wet pet. You pouted.

Beelzebub's quiet creep out of the room didn't go unnoticed, but you had a bigger problem now.

"You come up with the most ridiculous ideas," Lucifer chided. The first of many nags. "You should know by now it's futile. You're coming with me."

His clutch on you shifted to a more secure hold against his chest. It made writhing around and trying to run away pointless, so you challenged him with more head attacks. All this light head shaking was making you dizzy, but you were a fighter.

"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed.

Your gaze snapped up. You smiled and made an innocent yet logical suggestion. "Let me go?"

"No."

Into the locked office with Lucifer you went.

[cutielando]

prove you wrong | r.c.

synopsis: in which Rafe might just love you after all

a/n: based on this request !!

my masterlist

You should have known from the very beginning.

Everyone had tried to warn you about getting involved with Rafe.

He’s bad for you.

He can’t love you, he doesn’t know what love is.

He’s going to hurt you sooner or later.

You knew what everyone thought of him, and for once in your life, you didn’t care at all.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been together for so long, because you didn’t care if he was going to hurt you in the end. You just wanted to be with him, no matter what.

Bur you couldn’t do it anymore.

You couldn’t keep asking yourself every single day if he loved you, if he really wanted to be with you, if he truly even cared about you. You couldn’t keep second guessing everything about your relationship. You were supposed to feel safe and secure when you were with him, but lately, you felt nothing.

Ever since the beginning, Rafe had explained about his struggles when it came to showing you emotions and really expressing his feelings. Having grown up in a family where he wasn’t allowed to show vulnerability and weakness, you understood him.

You tried to help him come out of his shell, and you succeeded up until a point. But it wasn’t enough anymore.

This wasn’t a way of living, this wasn’t how someone was supposed to feel in a healthy and happy relationship. You were supposed to feel over the moon just at the sight of Rafe, not asking yourself if he really feels anything at all for you.

It wasn’t fair towards you, you were slowly realizing that.

No matter how much you loved Rafe and how much you truly wanted things to be okay, you knew that Rafe was in no place of becoming better at the moment.

You knew something had to change in order for Rafe to find himself and really figure out what he wanted from his life and your relationship.

And frankly, you had to be the one to make that step, because he would never even think about it.

Which is the worst part.

♡♡♡♡♡

The sun was shining brightly over the Outer Banks as you made your way towards Rafe’s house.

You had been up all night the day before, thinking and thinking about what you had to do in order to get your life in order.

And yet, no matter how many scenarios you went through, they all ended with the same conclusion: you had to break up with Rafe.

As painful as it was for you to come to that conclusion, you figured it was the best decision for the both of you, even if he wouldn’t see it like that at first.

That’s how you found yourself in your car, driving towards Rafe’s house at 10 am, determined as ever to finally put an end to things.

You had let yourself into the house, having been a key by Rafe after a year of being together, for emergency purposes as he had said.

Slowly making your way up the stairs, you made your way towards Rafe’s room, opening it without knocking when you heard the shower in his room was on.

“Rafe?” you called out twice, standing in the middle of the room.

“In the shower, I’ll be out in a second” he called from the bathroom, his voice slightly muffled by the shower jet.

You sighed and looked around the room, the room which held some of your best and worst memories with Rafe. Everything in the room screamed Rafe, and then there would be little trinkets that were so obviously yours, bringing a little personality to the otherwise dully-decorated room.

Smiling fondly, you took a seat on his bed and started playing with your fingers so you could pass the time, until something caught your eye.

Wide open on the bed next to his jeans lay Rafe’s wallet, but that’s not what had caught your eye.

You picked it up in your hands and inspected it closer, biting your lip once you realized what you were looking at.

There, right next to his driver’s license, lay two pictures you had not known were in his wallet. The first one was a picture of you he had taken while out at the beach and the second one was your absolute favorite picture of the two of you, taken by Wheezie at Midsummers earlier that year.

You smiled fondly as you looked at the pictures, the gesture so simple and yet in that moment, it meant everything to you.

All those thoughts about Rafe not giving a fuck about you or your relationship, all those insecurities about what Rafe really felt for you slowly disappeared as you stared at the photos he carried with him every single day to remind him of the one person he cared about more than anything in his life.

You.

And in that moment, your entire plan and speech you had spent hours perfecting, everything went out the window. In that moment, breaking up seemed like the stupidest decision in your life.

Faintly hearing the shower stop, you snapped out of your thoughts to see Rafe standing in the threshold on his bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist and another drying his hair.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?” he said, flinging the towel somewhere on the bathroom counter as he walked towards you and leaned down to peck your lips.

His eyes immediately gravitated towards your hand, smiling widely once he saw what you had been looking at while he was showering.

“When did you put these in your wallet?” you asked him, leaning into his warm body as you both looked at the teo tiny pictures, so many memories of your relationship being encapsulated in such tiny photographs.

“Right after Midsummers, I think. We looked good and I knew it was your favorite picture of us, and that picture is my favorite one of you. I wanted to always carry you with me and remind myself of just how lucky I am to have you and our relationship” he confessed, and your heart started beating faster than ever.

This had probably been the most sincere and romantic thing he had ever let himself say in front of anyone.

How could you even think about breaking up with this man only mere hours before?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked him, looking up at him for the first time since he had sat next to you.

He shrugged, looking down at his lap.

“I don’t know, just slipped my mind I guess. It seemed like such a little thing to do, you know. After everything you’ve done for me, it seemed like the least I could start doing to show you how much I appreciate all of it” he explained, making your heart explode with so much more emotion than you thought it could handle.

“Rafe” you pouted, putting his wallet next to you and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you” he whispered against your neck, making you smile over his shoulder.

“I love you too, Rafe”

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[joelchaimholtzman]

In celebration of the upcoming Avatar series I made three illustrations depicting key characters. Here is Sokka, the boomerang wielding warrior from the Southern Water Tribe.

Please let me know what you think and if you are going to watch the show!

All the best,

Joel

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Beauty is a beast that roars

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: You quietly long for Eddie’s attention, and when things with Chrissy start to look serious you resort to desperate attempts for him to look at you the way he looks at her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt (no comfort), Eddie is kinda a dick, obsession, hurtful notes being passed, mentions of bulimia/eating disorder, mild stalking, low talk about self image, societal pressure to look a certain way, mental health struggles, characters are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @reveriesources

It started as a slow burn inside of your chest. You blamed it on the stress of finals but the more you saw them together, the more that burn worsened into a blaze; scorching your heart and tarring it black.

You didn’t think it possible to be obsessed with someone that you didn’t love- but you worshipped the very ground that Chrissy Cunningham walked on. At times, you thought she was able to read your mind. The way she effortlessly flicks her natural glowing golden hair over her shoulder as she laughs, looking like she was sculpted by Aphrodite herself- or how she presses her perfect rosy lips in peppery and sweet kisses to Eddie’s cheek. She had him wrapped around her skilful fingers. You couldn’t stand it.

It twisted your insides into a rope like knot- so tight and big and uncomfortable. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think straight when you looked at her. At them. Your brain harbouring thoughts of envy, rotting from the inside out with lightless horrid concepts.

You couldn’t help but follow study Chrissy. Her signature blue eyeshadow that adorns her gorgeous blue eyes, her tiny upturned nose, her well proportioned features- her body. You had never repeated this information to anyone before, not even Eddie, because not only would it expose your research into Chrissy, but because you definitely weren’t ever supposed to find out.

You had walked in on her one day in the bathroom. She was hunched over in a stall, her white sneakers peeking out from beneath the cubicle door. She was vomiting. Harshly.

At first you thought she may just be sick, and she was, but it was a different conversation. You entertained that thought until you walked in a second and third time to her in the exact same position- her fatigued body draped over the toilet bowl. You understood how she maintained her physique. It broke your heart; momentarily.

What broke your heart more was that Eddie evidentially had no idea. You knew, deep down, Chrissy was just like you. A sad, broken girl. But she was better at hiding it. The Duchess of disguise. The Queen of your psyche. Your admiration of her was unhealthy, you knew that much. You just couldn’t stop. You needed Eddie to look at you the way he looks at her.

So you cut your hair into a fringe, and you change your clothes. You find your own signature colour of eyeshadow and you even purchase a few skater skirts. Sports had never really interested you until now; now you were trying out for the cheerleading team. And with being Chrissy’s friend- of course she gave you direct entry.

Because despite her beauty, Chrissy was also kind. Which made the knot in your stomach grow firmer, imbedding itself within you permanently.

-

“Hey, Eddie!” You make sure your voice is dripping with the sweetest form of honey as you bat your mascara thick eyelashes at him. He glances at you from his magazine, quirking a brow at your chirpy energy.

“Hello… What’s up?” He asks, his words clipped as his eyes focus back on the flimsy book he holds sturdily in his hands. God… his hands. The rings that compliment his slender fingers and the bracelets that dress his wrist. You couldn’t get enough of it- of him.

It was impossible for you to hold his attention for more than a few seconds, and you had bound into the library full of hope and partial confidence today. You had pieced together one of your best outfit. A denim jacket draped over your shoulders, a white tank top (with no bra) and a cute skirt in your favourite colour which also matched your eyeshadow. Your hair was in a voluminous pony tail, held up by a great big scrunchie and your eyes were bright with popping colour. Your cheeks were dusted with blush and your nails painted perfectly; with the help of your mother.

You couldn’t think of a reason why Eddie wouldn’t look at you. You looked totally bitchin’!

“Uhm…” you stutter, your small confidence wavering at his lack of interest, “We haven’t really hung out in a while… I thought maybe we could? If you like!” There is a festering in the pit of your stomach, a panic that grows with every anticipating second, “We don’t really hang out anymore... just us, I mean.” You add, hoping further context will make you sound a little less desperate.

You and Eddie used to hang out every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the whole group. But lately… things have changed. And you know the reason why.

Eddie acknowledged you with a hum, finally placing his magazine down and narrowing in on your appearance. You thought you wanted him to look at you, but the intense confusion on his face made you long for the earth to gape open beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Looks like ya did a deep dive through Chrissy’s wardrobe.” His chuckle makes your ears heat and your face flush as his fingertips pluck at the sheer scrunchie wrapped in your hair. You can’t tell if he is joking or not— but to you, it’s a compliment nonetheless.

After a moment of pause and total excitement you gather your composure quickly and cough a meek reply, “I’m trying something new.”

You’re trying to be someone new.

“Hmm,” He examines you further, “I dunno,” Eddie scratches at his chin, his once soft and playful features now express something more distasteful, “I personally prefer your old style— this seems… out of character.” There was a lilt to his deep voice, which made him sound interrogative.

“You.. you do?” You curse inwardly at the stutter in your airy voice. To say his words shocked you was an understatement. They had your jaw hanging loose and your eyes opened broadly. Had you gotten it all wrong? Were you really just as pretty before all of this? Or was he teasing you… was he trying to make you feel better? Was this his attempt at telling you that you look like an utter clown in comparison to Chrissy?

You’d never know… because you would never ever ask him such things.

You think back to a note that got passed to you in class not too long ago- you weren’t sure of the culprit (you suspected Jason) — it read along the lines of,

‘Apply all the makeup you want, but at the end of the day it’s just lipstick on a pig.’

Were you a pig? Was this all just a feeble and comical attempt at beauty? To be desired. To be wanted. It’s all you longed for. It’s all you dreamed of.

You wanted Eddie to see you. To want you. And at this rate, you were losing all hope.

“Yeah,” alongside a small laugh he also flashes you a toothy smile, a mocking smile— and you clamp your jaw closed to stop yourself from shaking out a sob, “Listen, you’re free to chill here with me if you want but— hey!”

You couldn’t take it. The embarrassment. The knife twisting in your chest and puncturing your heart. You flee from the table abruptly before Eddie even has a chance to say anything more to you.

What was wrong with you? You wanted his attention, you wanted him alone and when you got it you despised the humorous way he gazed at you. You didn’t want to be entertaining or funny— you wanted to be loved.

Loved by him.

To please him.

To make him proud…

On exiting the library you pass Chrissy who was entering through the heavy fire doors, clearly she is on her way to meet Eddie. It was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.

The blonde spares you a small smile but not without a worried and intrigued glance at your attire before she is muttering a quick ‘Hello’ which you don’t even bother to return. You are too focused on your pursuit to the bathroom where you can hide yourself in an empty stall and cry without judgement. The only issue? You didn’t bring any makeup wipes for the mascara that has plagued your face in splotches and streaks of black tears.

Your eyes sting furiously and your bottom lip quivers outwith your control. It’s hard to believe that you have allowed yourself to stoop this low, crying shamelessly on campus in front of your peers. Their sympathetic eyes and taunting grins don’t go unnoticed by you as you finally make it to the bathroom, bursting into the void room like a bat out of Hell. Slamming the cubicle door closed and sitting on the toilet bowl where you start to question reality.

What are you doing?

You despise the fact that you know, no matter what, no matter how stupid you look- how ridiculous your clothes are and your sorry attempts at looking pretty, you would continue to do it. Even if people stared, gawked, whistled, laughed… you would continue on this descent into madness. The chase of perfection. The downward spiral of your mind had only just begun and you had a far distance yet to fall.

-

Whilst classes had finished for a long weekend and everyone was outdoors enjoying what was left of the sun before Fall crept its way in, you were sat in front of your bathroom mirror. 

Pulling, pinching, tweezing, twisting, sucking, shaving, grabbing and crying.

God, you couldn’t stop crying.

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t cry.

To you, winter was already here. You were chilled to the bone, hollow in your chest. Insides were sunken. You felt vacant of any joy.

“Honey!!” Your mother yells suddenly from the bottom of the staircase, her voice is cloud like and warm, “Someone is here to see you!” There is a mutter of something inaudible, “Chrissy!” She confirms snippily and your face drops heavily into a worried frown.

“I’m in the shower!!” You shriek back dishonestly and you are reminded that you have a heart as it shudders inside of your chest. You aren’t ready to see her— you don’t have a lick of makeup on, your hair isn’t done and you are still wrapped up in your bath towel. 

Your first thought is how do you get rid of her? How do you lie your way out of this?

You couldn’t.

“Okay, she’ll be waiting down here for you then…” Your mother’s voice dies out and you can hear her offering Chrissy something to drink and eat; which Chrissy declines.

You move around your bedroom agilely, hustling to get as presentable as you possibly could to face the girl waiting downstairs for you. It doesn’t quite register that Chrissy is sitting with your mother, chatting and possibly gossiping. All you care about is getting some makeup slapped on your face and some nice clothes hugging your body.

Your hair can be brushed, but you don’t have time to style it— that’ll have to come later. After multiple a few sprays of your favourite perfume that smells like vanilla and a tinge of cedar wood you feel ready enough to leave your sanctuary.

Nearly tripping over your entire wardrobe that covers your bedroom floor you fly toward the door handle, bracing yourself at the top of the staircase before you descend.

Time to meet your maker.

Your intense gaze flicks hurriedly between your mother and Chrissy as they both stand to meet you as you enter into the lounge room. Chrissy’s hair is twirled and curled to perfection and a short pink summer dress embraces her small frame. On her feet is a pair of red Mary Jane heels and you catch a peek at the silver jewellery strung around her neck and her wrists.

“Hi,” you say, feeling like it is the first breath you take since entering the room.

Chrissy bounds over to you, stringing her arms around your shoulders and pulling you in for a quick but sweet hug, “Hi!” She giggles in a sing song tone before pulling away, “You smell amazing by the way! You’ll have to let me know what that is later!” Her fingers linger on the exposed skin of your bicep and you cringe away from her touch.

“Thanks,” Your mother has long left the room and you walk a few paces away from Chrissy.

“We were heading to the movies, you wanna join? It’s meant to be such a warm night tonight!” To your disadvantage Chrissy follows behind you closely, closing the distance you were trying to create between the both of you, “The whole group will be there! Plus, it’s a thriller which I know you love.” She winks at you and you hate that you can feel your lips curving up into a minuscule smile.

“I dunno, Chris.” Your hand palms at the back of your neck, you feel hot with discomfort and to be quite frank all you want to do is lay in bed and mope.

“Please!” She clasps her hands together, inching closer to you— if that were even possible, “I’ll even buy your ticket!” Her pillowy bottom lip pouts out slightly, “I just wanna hang out with you, it’s been so long.”

And she was right. It had been a long time. You had been so swept up in this horrible pursuit of yours that you forgot you were actually friends with Chrissy. Long before you even knew of Eddie’s existence.

A defeated sigh leaves through your nostrils and you raise your shoulders to your ears, “Fine.” You smile, a smile that feels the most genuine it has in weeks.

Chrissy squeals with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot before taking your hand into hers. Interlocking your fingers so she can make sure you don’t make a run for it, “Let’s go, tiger!”

-

You all find your seats quickly, settling into them with your snacks and beverages. You partially regret not getting a drink but you decide that you’ll be able to soldier through. It’s what you do.

It was no surprise to you that Eddie was there too, but you couldn’t help but panic at the sight of him waiting for you and Chrissy to arrive at the theatre. His tatted arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a love filled smile teasing at his lips as Chrissy trotted over to him, practically jumping into his arms for a hug.

You fell behind them, ensuring you left as much distance as you possibly could. The sight of Eddie alone was enough to send you tumbling into a frenzy of inky feelings.

You could smell Eddie’s cheap cologne mixed with a hint of powerful weed and for a moment it clouds your senses. Taking hold of everything you knew— past, present, future. You couldn’t think about any of it, not with his scent engulfing your nostrils like second hand smoke.

Once the group had settled into the dimly lit theatre you sink into your seat behind Eddie and Chrissy, your shoulders slumping as you wish for the seat to turn into some sort of magical trap door that will transport you to another universe. But of course, you could never be so lucky.

The movie begins with a deafening introduction and you wince at the sound, your finger tips brushing over your ears gently to make sure that they hadn’t been blown off of the side of your head.

Steve occupies the seat next to you, and Robin is next to him with Vickie. You had grown to quite enjoy Vickie’s company. You loved how happy Robin got when she was in touchable reach… you pined for a connection like that.

Normally, you would be in your element as you watched a thriller movie, but something in front of you proved to be far more interesting.

Eddie and Chrissy were whispering sweet nothing into one another’s ear, Chrissy giggling and blushing at whatever it was that Eddie had said— probably something dirty and ridiculous.

And you could handle that. You could endure that.

But what you couldn’t take was watching as their tongues battled it out in a sloppy and erotic kiss. Chrissy had asked you to come and see this film— was it all a rouse just so she could show you who Eddie truly belongs too? So she could dismiss your attempts and break your heart further?

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had clocked the expression on your face. Tears glossing over your eyes, your front teeth gnawing on your bottom lip to try and contain whatever this was that you were feeling— but most importantly, he noticed the newfound stiffness in your body. He could feel you going rigid next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is low and kind and you should have paid more attention to his attentiveness but you don’t.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Is all you reply before lugging all of your stuff loosely and lazily into your arms and bolting for the theatre isle, but not without earning a few confused looks from Robin.

You bypass the restrooms, your eyes focused on the colossal glass doors which would separate you from Eddie and Chrissy officially.

The humid air hits your skin in an agonising envelop of warmth and you pull your sleeve over the palm of your hand to rub against your soaked cheeks.

Your chest feels heavy with every shaking intake of breath that you manage to pull into your lungs. You are heaving, gasping for air as you sob into the thick material of your sweater.

The sound of passing cars hits your ears and you slightly angle yourself away from the access road connecting the theatre to other public establishments. The images of Chrissy tongue down Eddie’s throat plays over and over in your mind— you don’t even know what the film was about because you were so hyper focused on them.

Your skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right over your skeleton and you grab at the material of your skirt, fisting the fabric as you try to ground your raging emotions.

You catch a whiff of theatre food and it causes bile to raise up the back of your throat, vomit threatening to project from your mouth.

People pass you by, their out of context conversations entering one of your ears and leaving the other. You felt so overstimulated— so riddled with anxiety that your brain hadn’t had space to even register Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

But when you do, you flinch away from him, taken aback by the horror stricken look on his soft features, “Hey… what’s going on?” His voice is low, a whisper as he tries to contain the situation between the two of you. Not wanting whatever this is to spill into the public.

You shake your head, your strong walls flagging up, “Nothing,” you dismiss him, “That movie was just… really scary..” you lie through your teeth and your watery eyes betray your words as tears continue to stream down your flushed skin.

“Bullshit.” He spits, his eyes turning to slits as he inches in closer to you, “Tell me what’s wrong right now.” His thick eyebrows have furrowed deeply on his forehead and you continue to deny him of any information.

“Steve— I’m fine! That movie was scary, I’m scared! That’s all… and.. and I needed some fresh air.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping that the messy headed man would leave it at that but he replies to your dishonesty with a discontent shake of his head.

“You’re fucking lying. Why are you lying to me?” He is so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning onto your face, “We’re friends, right?” He cocks his head slightly to the right, his eyes becoming a bit more gentle, “Right?”

“Yes!” You respond instantly, “Of course we are friends-“

“Then tell me what’s going on! What is all of this about!” He gestures to your face, but his eyes scan across your body as well. He wants to know the whole truth, and you aren’t going to give it to him.

“I just told you!” You try not to yell, and thankfully your despair is doing a good job at strangling your voice, “I needed air—“ Steve cuts you off.

“Stop it. Stop it now.” He takes a hold of your arm, hurrying you away from the movie theatre entrance, “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can help! I can help, okay? There’s nothing too big.” You stare into his honey suckle eyes, seeing your owe reflection staring back at you. It causes your stomach to flip with disgust.

“Why can’t you just let this go? I’m fine, Steve! I’m fucking fine! I just wanted air because I felt sick and you’re causing a scene!” You’re yelling now, your once sadness provoked tears turning to anger.

“I’m causing the scene? You’re the one lying to me and busting my balls! I just want to help you!” He takes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone, I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself— you don’t get it! You’ll never get it, Harrington!” You jab at his chest, your body shaking with adrenaline.

“Harrington? Wow, okay. Something is definitely bothering you because you only ever call me that when you are really fucking pissed and I know I haven’t angered you this much so just tell me.” He circles you like a shark in murky water and you flee from him, needing some breathing space.

“Tell me!” He demands, charging after you.

You swing around to face him, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to combust.

“You wanna know, Steve? You really wanna fucking know?!” You march toward him, stopping a few paces away from his large frame.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Your voice is an unattractive squeak, “Is that what you want to know, Steve? Are you fucking happy now?” You’re trembling now— a mix of rage, melancholy and dread.

“I am in love with someone who will never love me back. I… I have tried so hard to win him over.” You pluck at your t-shirt, scoffing at the silliness of it all, “I tried to change everything about me. I tried to be the one he would want but he doesn’t want me. He’ll never fucking want me, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a form of defensiveness, “I’ll always be second best— no.” A moment of ugly realisation hits you, “I’m not even on his list. I’m not even a back up option to him. I’m a nobody. I can’t compete— I can’t compare.”

You’re a mess now. Smudged eyeliner. Smeared lipstick. You are a museum of failed art.

“I am in love with Eddie Munson and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

You try to lessen the blow of your own words with a tight lipped teary smile and a shrug of your shoulders… but whatever was left of your bruised heart was now torn to shreds. Unfixable. Unlovable.

“No one wants me.”

Through your distorted vision you hadn’t even noticed the tears pricking at Steve’s own eyes as he watched you fall to pieces in front of him.

Gently he brings you to lay flat against his chest, one of his hands rest tenderly against your hair whilst the other it draped over your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you silently and allows you to sob into his broad chest— your makeup destroying his pristine white shirt.

A few moments of the embrace pass and that’s when you hear a muted voice from behind Steve’s large frame. A voice you had hoped to not hear— a voice that belonged to someone you had prayed would never ever hear you confess what you just had. A voice that was laced with what you could only pinpoint as malice and repulsion.

Eddie.

“What.. the fuck?”

And as Steve’s body tensed against yours, you blinked away the last of your tears and accepted your fate.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers

[boomxyzu]

“This feels like home. Is this our home?” She wants to ask. She wants to know.

She wants to remember.

what if Zelda doesn’t remember anything after her dragonification. Pt3

>>1<<

>>2<<

>>3<< you are here

[stealingyourbones]

Never will I stop with the steadfast notion that folks in the DPXDC fandom should interact with at least some form of canon DC media.

There are comics, tv shows, radio dramas both old and new, podcasts, movies, magazines, so much shit that intentionally avoiding the media is simply preventing yourself from spawning new ideas and gaining a new appreciation for a fandom that you’re already in.

The Superman Radio Show has episodes 11 minutes long. A lot of the TV shows don’t have episodes that surpass 30 minutes and most are nearly fully clipped on the official DC YouTube channel. The amount of fan made motion comics is astounding. The amount of fanmade animations is equally as incredible.

[dervampireprince]

something about being ruined. not just fucked or teased or even used, but ruined. someone making you unable to think, unable to speak, just moaning and twitching and leaving you unable to ever be satisfied for anyone else, anything else, always needing them, craving them, every hour of the day, being unable to control your arousal anymore, how wet you get, how hard you get, how flushed you become, all because they’ve ruined you.

[mushramoo]

did it very fast so I know it’s cringe and yucky etc but I want more first interactions between the Emilys and Aftons in game

[yandere-writer-momo]

This is more Harvey Dent centric, because I’m obsessed with him. So here is a part of something small, I can’t guarantee y’all make another part. I also noticed a trend with a neglected reader, so I wanted to do something different. I love the idea, and I might explore that in the future, but I wanted to do wife who was disinterested in Bruce. This is mainly a self indulgent piece. I hope everyone enjoys.

Harvey Dent would be so delulu. Fight me if you disagree

Yandere Batman Short Stories: The Heart Wants What It Wants

Yandere Harvey Dent x Married Fem Reader x Yandere Bruce Wayne

The chirping of birds filled the autumn air as Bruce sat at the dinner table in the Wayne Manor. His blue eyes studied the elegant figure of (your name) who enjoyed the breakfast Alfred had made.

“There’s rumors going around that you’re close to Harvey Dent.” Bruce’s fist clenched around his silverware to the point his knuckles turned white. His gaze narrowed at his plate.

“I do work at the legal office with him, Bruce. We’re coworkers.” (Your name) sighed as she rubbed her temple from the already oncoming headache. She’s been the Distict Attorney’s assistant for a few years now, so she wasn’t sure why it was an issue as of late… “Harvey is a really nice guy-“

“So you two are on a first name basis?” (Your name) sighed at Bruce’s jealousy. He had never been much of a fiancé prior to marriage and now he was a jealous husband. It made no sense to her since he had always instilled in her, since childhood, that there would be no romance attached to this arranged marriage their parents had set up ages ago.

“Bruce, I truly think you’re overthinking this. Harvey is just a really amazing friend.” (Your name) sighed. “If this is about the Wayne family image, you have nothing to worry about-“

“He’s in love with you.” Bruce’s blunt statement effectively cut her off mid sentence.

“Excuse me?”

“Mister Dent is in love with you.” Bruce repeated it as if that would magically make her understand his assessment of her coworker.

“What makes you think that?”

“The way he looks at you.” Bruce’s blue eyes are like a tropical storm of emotion at the moment. “You’re my wife.”

(Your name) sighed before she placed her silverware down and rose up from her chair. She cast Bruce a glare.

“On paper. There’s no romance involved in this arrangement, remember?” (Your name) walked through the door as she headed to her room to finish getting around for work.

Bruce sighed and put his forehead in his hand. He hated his younger self for what he had once told her… because he no longer felt that way.

.

.

.

Harvey came over to (your name)‘s desk with a bag of pastries in his hand.

“Good morning, (your name).” Harvey gave her a warm smile as he set the bag down in her desk. “I bought some muffins if you’d like one.”

(Your name) gave Harvey a weak smile.

“You’re always so sweet. Thank you.” (Your name) picked out a banana muffin, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment.

“I think you deserve more sweetness in your life, (your name).” Harvey gave her a charming smile before he grabbed the bag. His blue eyes lingered on her for a few seconds longer than what was comfortable before he went to his office.

Harvey shut his office door before a blush enveloped his cheeks. Their fingers touched… god he was so pathetic. (Your name) was a married woman. Harvey couldn’t even have her… she had her fate chosen for her since a young age. One that he could not interfere with.

Harvey picked up his double sided coin off his desk as he absentmindedly flipped it. Would she have even chosen him if they would have been able to have a life together? Harvey didn’t have the same wealth as Bruce, but he would have been able to buy them a beautiful suburban home… give her a few children if she wanted them. The standard, American white picket fence life.

Harvey gazed at the files on his desk for his next, big case. (Your name) was truly a skilled and organized assistant, one he was grateful for. The two of them had worked so many long nights together on this… all for their mutual goal to better Gotham.

Harvey couldn’t help that he had fallen in love with her… he just wished she’d see his feelings. That they were soulmates- he was so corny.

Harvey was so pathetic for the way he felt about a married woman… but he knew she wasn’t happy. That it was all an arranged marriage. A union her parents forced on her.

Harvey could treat her infinitely better than some cold, Playboy billionaire. he would never run around on her, nor would he ever make her doubt that he had nothing but love for her.

(Your name) deserved to be pampered like a princess. She deserved soft and gentle… something Harvey was.

It was just such a shame he had been hearing strange voices in his head… perhaps they were merely auditory hallucinations from the stress of this upcoming case against the Falcone family?

Yes… that was it. Harvey Dent wasn’t a madman. He was a normal, upstanding citizen. The district attorney! Harvey “Apollo” Dent.

He was not crazy… even though he kept hearing a raspy voice in his head that wanted to snatch up his assistant for his own. She needed to be properly claimed and ravaged.

Harvey was just too scared of his own mind sometimes…

.

.

.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Bruce always recalled memories of a younger version of (your name). Back when she still made an attempt to get close to him. To the times she’d visit the manor to check on him since he was always ‘brooding.’ Bruce appreciated the gestures but never outwardly expressed it.

(Your name) was always so kind and sweet… yet he didn’t want to fall in love for fear she’d leave him or she would perish. Bruce now saw this logic as flawed since another man was now in the picture.

Bruce would be damned if he let a man like Harvey Dent snatch up what was his.

.

.

.

(Your name) was surprised her husband waited for her when she came home. She sighed when Bruce came to help her remove her coat.

“What are you doing?” (Your name) didn’t even put up a fight when he gently slid the suede trench coat off her shoulders.

“Can I not help my wife take her coat off?” Bruce asked with a quirked brow. (Your name) hated when he’d act like a doting husband. He was never interested before so she wasn’t sure why it changed now.

“You’ve been odd… or are you afraid I’m going to run away for some fantasy love affair?” (Your name) laughed at the expression on Bruce’s face. “You’re joking… you can’t possibly be jealous.”

“So what if I am?” Bruce asked softly. “Feelings can change.”

(Your name) sighed once again. “Bruce, I’m not interested-“

“Is it because of Dent?”

“No. It’s not because of Harvey.” (Your name) glanced at him. “I… I just haven’t no interest in romance with you.”

“…” Bruce remained silent for a moment before he pulled her into an awkward hug. “Let’s work on it then. I won’t push you away anymore… let’s make this real.”

(Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion but she didn’t put up much of a fight. She was too tired to argue.

.

.

.

(Your name) sat in her office as she watched the news. Harvey had a huge case against the Falcone family… the two of them had worked on his case together for months on end. She was hopeful the Falcone family would finally be knocked off the map… but she was horribly wrong.

(Your name) audibly gasped when she saw the reporter loudly scream and explain that Harvey had just been attacked. How was she attacked? It was a court room…

Turned out, his witness, Sal Maroni, threw acid on half his face. What kind of monster would do that?!

(Your name) rushed up from her desk as she grabbed her coat. She needed to get to that hospital and quickly, Harvey would need all the support he could get.

.

.

.

Harvey woke up with a start when he saw he was in the hospital. Agony consumed his entire being yet he couldn’t understand the warmth he felt inside him- (your name)?

Harvey was shocked to see the beautiful young woman beside his hospital bed in a chair. Her other body draped on the mattress, her fingers into locked with his. Had she… spent the night? Was there a possibility she loved him too?

Harvey’s fingers brushed a few pieces of hair from her face, his breath hitched at the contact. This wasn’t a dream… yet neither was his accident.

Harvey felt a sense of pride fill him when he saw that her phone vibrated with notifications from her ‘husband.’ He wanted to gloat in the other man’s face but he was more concerned about his face at the moment.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like (your name) would hate him… she loved him. That’s why she came to be with him… and he’d make sure she knew just how much he adored her too.

.

.

.

Bruce slammed his fist into the wall, a small hole now there like a centered frame. Why wasn’t his wife answering his calls? She was supposed to be home yesterday. We are on this green earth could she be?

Bruce angrily ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugged a bit at the black strands. There wasn’t a possibility that she was with Harvey right? She told him that she wasn’t interested in Harvey that way… he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that ate away at his mind.

He needed to find (your name) and fast. Bruce had a sickening feeling that she wasn’t safe… he needed to save his wife.

.

.

.

(Your name) stirred awake to find Harvey with his fingers in her hair. Her brow fur as she set up, her lips drawn in a thin line.

“ Harvey? Are you all right? I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”

Harvey shook his head to reassure, the bandages obscured his handsome face from view. There was no doubt in her mind that his face was permanently destroyed from the acid.

“I’m… I’m here.” Harvey gave a dry chuckle. (Your name) could tell he was on a verge of a mental breakdown. One of his eyes was twitched while his hands shook. She couldn’t bear to see such a wonderful man completely fall apart when she was there to catch the pieces.

“Harvey… come here.” (Your name) held her arms wide open for him, the man melted instantly. His arms wrapped around her like the coils of an anaconda. His grip was tight and escapable as his body was sob.

Harvey couldn’t say a word as he held her like a lifeline, but there was only one thing that was clear in his mind… she loved him too.

It had to be fate that she felt the same way… now all he had to do was get her to leave her husband and be with him. Where she belongs.

The heart wants what it wants…