#i ended up writing a plot

[kkst0904]

[wrioluvr]

flirty playboy x mature male reader

this stupid ass meme had been on my mind forever and i realised how funny it would be to have a slutty playboy who just sleeps with anyone to seriously pine over a more mature, secure guy who doesn't fall for any of his shallow charms and tricks.... here are just some blurbs of their dynamic (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

his name is roman. he's a little toxic, but he just wants to be loved.

cw: some smut, top male reader

it all started with a little night out. you didn't do those often, due to devoting most of your time towards work and earning a stable career, but finishing this particularly gruelling assignment called for a celebration. at the bar, dancing with your friends, a good-looking man with a playful glint in his eyes approached you full of bravado. he told you how handsome you were, and had been eyeing you from across the room for a while now. but from a single glance, you could tell he was the type to break hearts. beach-blonde dyed hair, a tight fitting tank top revealing his muscular build, an eyebrow piercing, the way his mouth curled up so subtly into a little smirk.... he was everything you knew to avoid getting serious with. but a little hookup couldn't hurt, right? you deserved a little fun.

and it didn't hurt you at all. a few failed relationships had made you wise beyond your years, knowing to easily seperate the good guys from the bad. you knew your self-worth. roman, on the other hand, was absolutely smitten. no other man had fucked him THIS good, gave him such gentle aftercare, and even let him stay as long as he needed. the way you so effortlessly lifted his legs up to thrust in and out of him at a rhythmic pace, or fondling his tits and squeezing his nipples softly while you hit it from the back, or tenderly running your fingers down his spine, arching it sensually.... he loved it all. it was clear to him that you prioritised his pleasure as much as your own, and it showed in how he orgasmed several times before you even came in him once, panting breathlessly while wearing the sluttiest expression of his life. it was nothing like any of the men he had sex with before. afterwards, you let him stay the night in a guest room, and even brewed a cup of coffee for him in the morning.

roman was damn near tears when you offered to drop him off at his house before you headed off to work. if he was being honest with himself, his insecurities were the root of his constant need for sexual intimacy, so being treated with genuine kindness for once was new to him.

"is dropping you off here alright?" you ask, turning into the road of his apartment complex.

"y-yeah...." he looks out the window, unsure how to look you in the eyes.

"okay. thanks for last night. stay safe." your words carried an air of finality to them, like you were so sure the two of you would never cross paths again. he didn't like that.

"uh, uh......" he stuttered, all his usual flirtatiousness thrown out the window as he couldn't meet your gaze. "could i... get your number?"

your friendly smile froze on your face. "uhhhh.... sorry, i'm not really looking for anything serious right now."

he quickly regained his composure, charm turned up to the max. shifting his tank top so more of his chest was exposed and you could notice his nipples protruding, roman whispered in a low tone, "that's okay! we can just be casual... and fuck anytime you like." a wink. a hand on your thigh.

"jeez... okay, no offense, but i've heard rumours from my friends that you're a bit of a... playboy. i'm not interested in being your toy, sorry."

roman's face flushed in embarrassment, knowing what you said was true. except the part on him seeing you as a toy. that was untrue. he could feel a warmth growing from the pit of his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you. were these... butterflies?

maybe begging would work.

"okay fine, i am a bit of a player... but please, please, pleaseeeeeee.... let's be in contact, okay? as friends?" roman sniffled pathetically, shaking your shoulder in desperation. he needed to be in your presence. why weren't his usual maneating tactics working?!?!

"alright. here you go. just don't spam me or anything, okay? i gotta go for work. see you." you sigh, a little exasperated but choosing not to let it show. he immediately lit up, typing your number in his contacts and saving many hearts next to your name. you prayed your acts of basic human decency wouldn't cause him to catch feelings. you needed to focus on your job right now.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

3:02pm

[romanbabyxx]

hiiiiiii

[romanbabyxx]

i know you said not to spam you but like

[romanbabyxx]

i miss u

[romanbabyxx]

can we meet up at the bar for drinks or something like that? please?

3:10pm

you check the messages on your phone, rolling your eyes and ignoring them. he was probably sending this text to at least three other guys right now. he had a history of cheating, based on what you heard from your friends. you weren't going to be another one of his victims.

5:35pm

[romanbabyxx]

are u ignoring me?

[romanbabyxx]

im sorryyyyyyyy

[romanbabyxx]

pls hit me back when ur free

7.30 pm

[name]

sorry, just got off work. will be super busy this week, so not free. mb.

[romanbabyxx]

oh, its okay! next week then?

[name]

i'll see

this went on for a few weeks, you constantly evading his invitations, being polite and professional, never too intimate over text. roman was starting to get fed up. he's so used to getting everything he wants, he doesn't know what to do when he actually has to work for the one he desires. he actually hadn't hooked up with anyone since your one night stand, but you didn't believe that.

roman was at his wits' end. he could only think of one final plan to get your attention.

trying to make you jealous.

over the next week, he hooked up with any and everyone he met in the bar, not bothering to keep his slutting around discreet. he wanted you to hear the rumours. he wanted you to feel a sense of unease within your very being. he wanted you to feel possessive. he wanted you, to want him. the whole time, even as he was getting fucked, he could only imagine you caressing him, holding him close, loving him.

his deeds didn't go unnoticed. your friends told you about it, yet you didn't feel anything in the slightest. you were right, after all... he forgot about you within a week and moved on to whichever poor man he would leave high and dry next.

the next time you bumped into him at the bar, roman was his usual, party-loving self, excitedly slinging an arm around you, a drink in hand. his plan had to work, surely? you would be begging to have him back. but yet, when he offhandedly (yet so intentionally) mentioned how much dick he had been getting the past week, anticipating your change in expression, nothing happened. "oh. good for you." was all you said.

he sputtered, flustered by your calm demeanour. didn't you care? at all?! "but.... but.... aren't you jealous? that i've been hooking up with other guys?!"

you stare at him, a genuine quzzical expression plastered across your face. "why would i be? it's not like we're dating or anything. it was just a one time thing."

your words hit like a knife through his heart. he clutched his chest dramatically, a pout forming on his lips. "i'll be faithful! i promise!" his words came out more desperate than he intended. he felt so vulnerable, so naked, yet you were the face of serenity. your unimpressed eyes stared through his soul, as if you were scrutinising his very core. he knew you could heal him, make him feel loved, but he was starting to doubt there was any possibility you would feel the same.

"i'm sure that's what you said to the last guy you cheated on."

.

.

.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

i intended for this to be lighthearted but why was it actually kinda depressing tbh

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[charmwasjess]

Whatever you do, don’t think about how happy Sifo-Dyas must have been that last time with Dooku on Serenno. He’d been fired as a Seeker, lost his seat on the Jedi Council, had the worst rounds of visions of his life, and finally, finally, someone is listening to him, someone believes him, someone gets it.

He’s back with his best friend who promised to help him save the galaxy, like the two of them were made to do together. Like they always knew they were going to do.

[dreamofbecoming]

i’m thinking about that one post that talks about how the ring doesn’t make the wearer invisible, but actually enhances whatever the wearer’s natural strengths already are- it multiplied sauron’s powers of control and raw destruction, hobbits are naturally sneaky, etc. basically how the reason the story tells us it’s an invisibility ring is because bilbo is the one telling the story, and he just assumed his experience was universal. isildur didn’t go into the river invisible and uninjured, only to get shot when the ring abandoned him and he became a target again, he already had multiple arrows in him when he went into the water, but only succumbed to his injuries when the ring stopped magnifying his numenorean longevity and damage resistance.

so i’m thinking about hobbits, right? like yeah, they’re small and quiet on their feet and invisibility totally tracks for them, but what if that’s not their most impressive skill set?

i’m thinking about how all five of the hobbits whose stories we hear in full traveled enormous distances on foot with minimal difficulty. they all managed extreme altitudes, rough terrain, heavy snowfall, almost lava???, swamps, trees, jagged rocks and gravel, and just about every other possible terrain, not to mention hundreds of miles, without seeming to flag heavily or (genuinely) complain overmuch. despite being used to at least seven meals a day, they were able to keep up their pace on minimal rations, on foot, without losing stamina until the very end, which arguably had more to do with the ring than the trip itself.

my point being that hobbits are almost unnaturally good at traveling massive distances on (bare!)foot, and what if the ring picked up on that instead?

what if instead of going invisible, bilbo could teleport?

[genericpuff]

my unabridged thoughts on 278-279:

[crystalflygeo]

Sinful voice. ft "Morax" + fem!reader (modern AU)

cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, uuhh fantasizing? petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, babygirl, darling).

notes: I literally had this sudden brainrot idea today at work (rip) and as soon as I came home I typed all this in a rush and bOI. That man's voice is just...... no words. Drives me insane, wild, crazy, feral.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You were starting a new chapter of your life, fresh into college, moving to a whole other city to dedicate to your studies and enter the “adult world”

You’d arrived a few weeks early to move in and start settling on your little space, it was barely a small room in a house you’d share with other new students. You’d even share a kitchen but hey, at least each one had a tiny individual bathroom for yourselves.

Tomorrow was the big day. Your first day. And although you’d heard many people say they would just take it easy or even skip the first few days (because “they were not that important” as schedules and teachers were still being organized) you’d heard just as many stories about how college was difficult and important and you gotta make good first impressions and familiarize and meet new people and blablabla…

It was pretty nerve-wracking.

So here you are, way past midnight, rolling over in bed unable to calm down.

You sigh and start messing around with your phone, bored. Maybe you can just skip tomorrow?

Or maybe…

You bite your lip. There’s a little something you can do to… relax.

Before you can even think, your fingers are already typing the familiar webpage name on the phone, already smiling mischievously.

In your search for a little “spice” for your solo pleasure sessions you often went for audios and ASMR content. The sounds and voices were much hotter than excessively raunchy lame crude run-of-the-mill videos in your honest opinion. All you had to do was get comfy, close your eyes, and immerse on the fantasy. It was bliss.

And so, a few months ago you had found him.

Morax.

Oh, that man had a voice to die for, deep and rich like syrup, making you shiver and whine every time. His content was absolutely top-notch and you’d been instantly drawn like a moth to a flame ever since you’d managed to drag out one of your best orgasms ever after listening and playing along for a few minutes.

And when you dug around and found his subscription page? Oh boy, you were a goner.

You can only imagine what your parents would say if they knew you spend money on something like this but hey, financial independence means you can spend your money (from part time-jobs and whatnot) on whatever you want.

And damn you want this sexy voice murmuring dirty praise on your ear.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing your earphones and getting rid of some of your clothes before settling down again comfortably, pillow propped against the headboard, almost giggling excitedly as you scroll around the page’s contents.

Morax was obviously an experienced dom. His content covered a myriad of different kinks and scenarios, many of which you had even only started to explore because of him. And though his voice was always calm and refined, with this sweetness and dominant tilt to it, his growls and groans could be just as wild. Morax sounded downright sinful when angry, scolding or degrading the listener. And his moans and soft chuckles? Oh, you could just faint with those.

Or come, probably. Yeah.

“Daddy fucks you in his lap” “Overstimulating my pet’s little clit” “Grind your sweet pussy on Master’s leg” “Waking you up with my big cock” “Making you my good girl” “Cum until you cry and beg”

You blush as you look at the titles, skimming around tags and descriptions looking for whatever strikes your mood tonight. Heck, anything would be fine if it was him though, you swore you weren’t even into the whole daddy kink before you heard Morax but now…

Oh.

Well lucky you, he’d just uploaded something new a few hours ago, you were one of the first views… ever the fangirl, huh? You click on it as you subconsciously lick your lips. Gods, your body feels hot and needy already, knowing what’s to come.

“Daddy spoils your little pussy” reads the caption, and you place your phone by your side, lying down, propping your legs and closing your eyes.

Oh, oh my god. Your breath catches as the audio starts off right away with some lewd wet noises. Usually, Morax would sweet talk for a bit first to set the scene and mood, but you sure weren’t complaining!

Your heartbeat speeds up as your hands start rubbing at your legs and over your panties, just trying to get your body up to speed.

“Hmmm… oh, there you are sweetheart.” Gods. Morax’s voice. You already wanted to moan at the deep baritone vibrating in your ears. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

How ironic that you couldn’t sleep yourself.

His voice drags, sounds a little tired and hoarse, it just adds to it and you picture him kissing and dragging his tongue along your skin “You like that don’t you baby? Feeling my lips… tracing your hipbone like this. I can feel the goosebumps blooming along your skin.”

Oh goosebumps alright, you shiver as you rub at your skin a little impatient, how you wish you really had his lips worshipping you right now.

“You don’t even have to do anything, you can even just go back to sleep, if you’d like.” He chuckles. “But daddy just needed you, he needed his… hmm… sweet babygirl.”

“Hng Morax yes… need you too, daddy.” You whisper softly, already shifting on the sheets.

He continues to kiss and whisper sweet nothings about how he wants to make you feel good, kiss you and pamper you and make you relax, and you melt. His soft breathing and wet sucking and kissing noises turning you on instantly.

“Alright sweetie let’s take these panties off.” There’s a slight rustle of fabric in the audio as you quickly strip off your own underwear along. “That’s a good girl. Hmm… look at your sweet little pussy, already wet and swollen for me.” He groans and you whimper and buck your hips.

“Oh god please…” You’re so keyed up already. Morax simply has that effect on you, and you wish he would hurry so you can start touching where you most need it.

“Hmm… just relax sweetheart. Lie down and let daddy take care of you… of your cute little pussy.” More erotic noises follow as you picture him slowly going down and down until he kisses and licks at your folds. “Oh, that tickles sweetie?” Another sinful chuckle.

His voice, his voice was just so good. You’d wondered many times what kind of man would have such a deep hypnotizing voice. Surely he was older, but maybe not quite a silver fox. Dark hair, maybe? A large frame, broad shoulders, lean muscles but still elegant, a proper gentleman to go with his personality.

You knew he had golden eyes, that was a fact. Well, at least what he’d mentioned in a couple of scenes, it could very well be a lie but you wanted to believe in that mysterious domineering golden glow, staring up at you like molten heat from above you or between your legs.

Morax’s voice keeps feeding your fantasy, commenting how wet you are, how your body twitches, how he drags, slow and languid around your hole and oh, it’s like your body responds exactly the way he wants, guided by him.

“Darling, let me just… hmm… suck on your cute little clit like this.”

“Ah!”

A shock of pleasure runs trough your veins as you start rubbing on the little nub. His voice muffled, moaning as he sucks and licks and sighs deeply, clearly enjoying this.

“So sweet, so good for me. Oh, it makes daddy just ache for you sweetheart.”  

You want Morax’s cock in you yesterday.

His voice turns breathy and strained, the noises and tension intensifying as you rub faster, legs shaking, your breath coming out in gasps to match his, back arching off the bed. It’s all so good, his praise, his dirty words, his gasps, his moans.

“Come on sweetie, I know you want my big cock but first… hng… first daddy wants you to cum hah… do that for me princess? Come for daddy, come on.”

“F-fuck… fuck… hnnng” You mewl. “M-Morax…”

“I got you darling I’m right here, you can cum baby I want to taste you.”

“Ah A-Ah!” Your mouth parts into a silent scream and your whole body tenses and shudders, pleasure buzzing in your veins and under your flushed sweaty skin. Your juices spill against your hand but you imagine them wetting his chin as his voice groans and moans in your ears. You picture those half-lidded sultry golden eyes glowering at you.

“That’s a very good girl…” He chuckles, and your hazy mind can picture him nuzzling at your inner thighs. “Now, now get ready babygirl, give me your legs like this.” A noise of sheets shifting registers in your brain “Around my shoulder and let me just… hng… stroke my big cock ready for you.”

Oh you were floating, your head was spinning, you parted your legs, following his every command, fingers still rubbing at your oversensitive folds to simulate whatever he was doing. You moan at the slick jerking sound and vaguely lament not having something to fill you up as he would.

“Hmm… we’re just getting started, my dear.” He hisses.

The night was long and the audio not even halfway…

———————————————————–

Even though you ended up going to sleep way past any reasonable time you didn’t really feel tired. In fact, you slept wonderfully, warm and sated. And so, you headed up to class with a carefree skip and bright smile, excited to see what this new day and new year would bring you.

The classroom was rather big but looked pretty empty even though the professor was already there, you slid into one of the front seats and quickly checked the time. You weren’t late or anything, he was just… punctual and early, it seems. Which is more than can be said by the majority of the students… if they are even coming to the class.

Some general studies were mandatory classes, though you’d only had to take a couple courses before moving to subjects more in line with your chosen career. But for now, seems like you had to deal with… history.

The professor was, well… handsome, to be quite honest. And you found yourself quietly admiring him from afar. Prim and proper with long silky dark hair in a low ponytail, a perfectly neat and brown suit, and thin elegant glasses that only drew more attention to his striking gold eyes. Not a crease in sight, not a hair out of place.

He was rather meticulous it seems, with the way he organized his material, checking the time before starting the class on the dot.

“Greetings everyone, my name is Zhongli.” He smiles warmly. “I believe a welcome in is order as this is your first day of college, a new stage of your life.”

No way.

Absolutely no fucking way.

His voice…

“Seems like you’re stuck with me for your very first class.” He chuckles.

Low and deep and velvet.

Oh, you know that exact same sound.

Your eyes widen.

Oh shit.

Mr. Zhongli is Morax…

“Let’s hope this year shall be a good and prosperous one, hm?”

[celtrist]

I really want to see a more fucked up version of Charlie in canon. Like, okay, I am a die-hard for sweet bubbly girls in media. But I always see how some people make Charlie actually, oh I dunno... demonic? And it's so refreshing for her type of character. I could honestly see her having low empathy (and we kinda see this with how she handled Angel's situation or even Vaggie's nervousness about taking control on an activity). An exploration of that trait (if it was intended) would be interesting to see for a protagonist, especially when her main goal is about helping others. I would love to see her actually have a level of difficulty in understanding others' feelings from the other residents, sinners, and even her father.

But give her a fucked up side. Not a "she gets more power when she's angey uwu", but a "oh, she's a little fucked in the head". It would give so much to her character that she just doesn't have.

@/murmurmurena (don't wanna bother them so slash there we go) has some fun ideas with Charlie. I highly encourage people to check their stuff out! So many fun dark ideas with her character while also still keeping to her canon personality pretty well! Personally, I think Charlie being a bit more naive to her own messed up traits would work best but her also being aware of these traits can make for some interesting character for her.

THIS FIC, "A Game Between You and I". RIGHT HERE WITH THE FIRST CHAPTER. A bit of spoil for the fic here: but I love how they handled Charlie’s absolute ignorance as to why the idea of Russian roulette is horrifying to Angel Dust. It doesn't feel like her being intentionally malicious or aware that she's the odd man out here. This is also a pretty old fic going by only the pilot, but the point still stands that it was such a fun take for her character!

Charlie is one of my favorite characters in the show in part of the POTENTIAL she could have as being the most bubbly sweetheart character while also being the most messed up character in the show. I can't say I have strong confidence with the show's writing and fully expect them to stick with Charlie being the "nice girl but oh no, don't get her angry or she gets scarwy". Which isn't bad for a character mind you, there's just so much more potential to Charlie outside of that trope, especially when you get into the theories of her either being a doll, Roo's biological daughter, or what have you. And for the MAIN CHARACTER of the show, it would be not only interesting but also bring the spotlight back to her.

There's really no question that the side characters steal the show, particularly all the male characters. If I'm honest, Charlie does not feel like she gets a lot of love from the show itself when she's supposed to be the main character. She feels far more flat compared to the rest of the characters (again, the male cast in this "female-lead" show has more depth than most of the female cast currently. I wouldn't be pointing this tidbit concerning the genders of characters if it weren't for the fact Viv defended Helluva's lack of development with their female cast by saying "Hazbin is a female-lead show and Helluva is a male-lead" and Hazbin ended up with it not feeling female lead (to me) and the male cast just completely stealing the show. I don't normally care about gender stuff, especially since I do personally lean interest towards male characters. But using one show as a defense for poor development of the female characters, and then that show not really holding up with no very interesting well-developed feeling female characters irritates me. It's just very clear that these shows don't seem to care much about the female cast :/)

If you like how Charlie is written that's totally fine. PERSONALLY, I just think they're missing so much opportunity with her character by just making her the standard female character type. I honestly don't have a lot of faith they'll actually do something with Charlie's character though. She's a pretty static character in S1 being the same from start to end. Not changing or learning anything to create any development. What does the end of season Charlie do that start of season Charlie wouldn't do? Fight back? Because we see with the pilot (which is the “first episode”) that Charlie does fight people if pushed like with Katie Killjoy and even Valentino. Static characters can work in media depending on the show or their role. But Charlie is the MC of a show about “bettering one's self”. So to have her as a static with not a lot of strong dilemmas for herself (like we see with Angel Husk Al and even Vox) seems silly. Plus, considering Hazbin is telling a whole story and it's not a fun episodic thing, characters are expected to grow on some level. Or else, what was the point of their hero's journey?

[updownlately]

it's my right to be hellish (i still get jealous)

| leah williamson x reader | fluff | 1.6k | a/n: got this req a while back and i just got around to it. my bad for the wait amigo and thank you for being patient! not really sure how this turned out tbh but i hope you like it! happy reading folks! 🫶

~~~

"That hoodie's not yours, and it most definitely isn't mine..."

The voice behind you caused you to jump in your place, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as your were shook out of your thoughts by your favourite blonde.

Turning around with a smirk on your face, you tilted your head in challenge.

"You're right...it's not yours and it's not mine."

You watched as Leah's eyebrows rose at your words, the blonde stepping closer to you as her arms settled on either side of the countertop beside you, effectively trapping you in.

Eyes tracing her jaw as you watched it clench, you bit back a sly smile.

You absolutely loved this side of Leah, her possessive nature never not welcome by you.

Wanting to tease her a bit more, to drag this interaction out for as long as possible, you bent your head down, pretending to examine the hoodie.

"Still though, this might have to be one of the most comfortable things I've worn in a while..." Grasping the fabric tightly in your hand, you hid your smile, not needing to take a peek at Leah's face to know her reaction. You could practically imagine the slightly icy look in her eyes at your words, posture probably straightening as she took a deep breath in.

"Even softer than my hoodies that you steal?"

The midfielder's voice was audibly lower this time, the challenge clear in her voice.

Keeping your game up, you shrugged your shoulders and looked up to meet her eyes, shuffling ever so slightly back into the countertop so that it pressed against your back.

"I mean...it's up there for sure, y'know?”, an amused look crossing your face.

At your words, you could see Leah's body tense, forearm muscles already more apparent than before, neck vein joining the party.

"Yeah? And who might the owner of the hoodie be? Just in case I wanted to ask them where they got it?”

The way the Arsenal player tilted her head down towards you at the end of the sentence let you know you were successful in your attempt to rile her up, the dark look in her eyes a clear indication of the storm brewing inside.

Not bothering to hold your grin back anymore, you tilted your head back, mischievous eyes meeting Leah's, watching as her stormy blue eyes slowly turned into something slightly softer, a tad bit more playful, as she recognized the look in your eyes.

"You're being a little shit, I hope you know that." The words came out deep, her stepping closer to you, arms coming to trap you right between her body and the counter, not giving you much room to move.

Hands skimming your torso as she closed the gap between your bodies, you held your breath, lips pursed.

Slightly breathless, your words came out airy, the close proximity of your girlfriend making your head hazy, body involuntarily inching towards the blonde, trying to get closer.

“Yeah? And what about it?"

You shot Leah a sweet smile as she took in your words, doing your best to hold back your laughter at the situation.

The tables were very quickly reversed though, Leah moving even closer to you, causing you to hold your breath. Clenching the edge of the tabletop behind you, you stopped yourself from wrapping your arms around her neck with every ounce of willpower you could muster.

However, your eyes involuntarily fluttered shut as her breath fanned over your face, you letting out a small sigh, your plan to tease the blonde quickly forgotten as her perfume wrapped around you sweetly.

"If you tell me who's hoodie this is, I won't start hiding my old national hoodie from a few camps ago..."

Your eyes snapped open at Leah's words, mouth opening and closing a few times as you stood there bewildered.

“Wait wha- What??…No!” Snapping out of your haze, your eyes went wide. "I love that hoodie! And you know it!" You protested, mouth hanging open at the lengths Leah was going to.

"I mean, you said it yourself- this raggedy, old, faded hoodie is your favourite right now, right?"

You audibly gulped at her words, goosebumps rising on your skin as you felt Leah's hands trace the fabric near your hip, her grasp around your torso getting just perfectly tighter, causing your heart to beat faster.

"I- uhm..." Distracted by the touch, you tried to find your composure, a chill running up your spine as the Gunner's hand skimmed the small of your back.

"You what? You wanna continue having your little fun? Or do you wanna finally be good and tell me whose hoodie you're wearing? Because we both know the longer this goes on, the more difficult this is going to get for you. So make it easy, yeah? Might just even let you off lightly even though you tried to rile me up..."

Just barely managing to register Leah's words, her ministrations and low voice intoxicating, you nodded subconsciously.

"That's what I figured..."

Snapping out of your trance briefly at the tone in her voice, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Cockiness doesn't look so good on you love..."

"Neither does this hoodie on you," came the quick quip, a singular eyebrow raised and a smirk dancing on Leah's face.

Throwing your head back, you let out a small groan. Of course you couldn't get out of this, Leah's possessiveness too much for you to tease the blonde to your liking.

"Leah, you're ruining my fun here!" Whining, your shoulders dropped, nose scrunching in playful displeasure.

"What can I say, something about seeing my girl in someone else's hoodie really kills the comedian in me..."

Seeing Leah smile at her own words, you wondered if you could somehow still continue your little game.

Your thoughts were cut short though, Leah reading your mind nearly immediately.

"Don't even think about weaselling your way out of this one..."

You sighed at her perfect read of you.

Just great- the joys of dating for nearly a year.

"Alright, fineeeee...it's Steph's hoodie okay? She gave it to me after it shrunk in the wash a few weeks ago…,” you pouted, very much displeased at the fact that your little mission had to have been aborted, you not afraid to express it.

"Steph? As in straight Stephy on our team right?"

Nodding your head you scrunched your nose.

"Yes Lee- our teammate Steph."

"Oh..."

"Just ‘oh?'" You asked, mind shook at the fact that this was the only reaction you were getting.

Eyes focused on Leah as you watched her take a step back from you, her eyes running over you and the fabric you wore, you tilted your head in curiosity, waiting.

"It's just Steph, it's not that bad."

Not content with your teasing from earlier being cut short, you decided to give it another shot.

"So you won't mind if I wear this more often, right?"

"Oh fuck no!"

And with those words, Leah stepped right back to you, hands coming to grab at the hem of your hoodie, tugging it not so gently, silently asking you to raise your hands.

"Leah!"

"What?" The blonde feigned innocence, actions not ceasing.

"You can't just make me take the hoodie off!"

"If you rather I take it off in another setting, I can make it happen," she smirked, a wink shot at you as her hands stopped their movement, instead now grasping the hoodie tightly. 

"Leah!"

"This isn't quite the situation where I pictured you screaming my name, but I'll take it." The forward response had you hitting the blonde, scrunching your face in clear displeasure.

Realizing you weren’t going to take off the hoodie, Leah spoke again. “Come on! You're my girlfriend- you're supposed to wear my hoodies! Not Steph's!" she groaned, stomping her foot petulantly.

“It's just a hoodie, Leah,” you shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing at her antics.

“Yeah, well so are mine. Wear those! Plus, you look better with my last name on your back- the world's gotta know your mine, capiche?” 

Shaking your head, you chose to finally put the taller girl out of her misery, a shy smile overtaking your face at the last sentence.

Letting the blonde rid you of the hoodie, you didn’t complain one bit as that simple task turned into more than just your hoodie being removed, the English skipper’s lips dancing around your neck and collarbones, slipping up along the slope of your neck in satisfaction of ‘winning’. 

As Leah kissed you to the point where you forgot Steph's hoodie even existed, you silently appreciated the little green monster inside her heart, her possessiveness most definitely not something your minded.

And later that night, you smiled as Leah handed you her old England hoodie as you both got ready for bed,  the two of you dead tired from an exhausting evening of strenuous activities, you silently thanking Steph’s dryer with a smile on your face.

Turning off your bedside lamp, you cuddled into Leah’s side in the dark room, placing a quick kiss on the blonde's lips, a sneaky smile on your face. 

Choosing to let her in on a little secret, you got comfortable in her hold, waiting until she had settled down so that she couldn’t tickle you like she likely would have. 

“Fun fact- Steph's hoodie never had a chance on any of yours...it didn't smell like you."

A bashful grin on your face, you carefully watched for the midfielder’s reaction at your next words, absolutely loving the way she rolled her eyes at you before tugging you impossibly closer, a gentle kiss placed on your lips before soft words were spoken against them.

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine- now and forever.”

And that’s how you two fell asleep- soft smiles on both your faces, limbs tangled together, breaths mingled, hearts more than content in each other’s presence.

[angy-grrr]

SJ's internal changes (I recall it was the editor in chief, someone really influential) happening JUST at the same time it was announced the epilogue would be 5 chapters (same week) + the ending not bringing up huge plot points (where the other villains are, why theres no actual Himiko corpse and instead we got Ochako's grief over that assumption, what happened to Dabi, what was the All Might vestige, why the bkdk handhold was off screen when its a big deal for them, who is Deku's dad, etc), letting them linger in the air while trying to make an okay ending + that strange two week break because of "schedule conflicts" + choosing to end BNHA under even more pressure even tho its one of the most important manga in SJ + Horikoshi talking about the ending days after the official release and bringing up how grateful he is for being able to work in SJ, as in past tense (like he is grateful he worked here, but isnt happening again; I say this bc I expected him to say something around the lines of "I hope im able to create something good here again soon!", considering we already know he has another manga project, if I remember correctly)

Thinking about it.

Thinking about how he could let it as it is, or try to pick it up and confirm the things that do matter to his story.

Btw, im not talking about the handhold as a shipper -it was genuinely important for them, as it symbolizes both their new mutual understanding and an acceptance as the new All Might duo thanks to their respective heroisms. It wouldn't be weird to add it in the epilogue, especially considering so many characters hold hands in non romanitc ways, so to choose not to when its arguably the most important one... Idk, it felt really weird as it was the only thing I was sure would get sooner or later.

[afewproblems]

Prompt 53. "I'm flirting with you!" Part Two

A follow up to This Post

@happymediummm I promise the answer to your ask will be up soon in part three!!

Eddie stews in his room for three days following the incident at Steve's house. 

Wayne attempts to coax him out with food and coffee, even opening up the pack of bacon they'd been saving in the freezer, anything to try and get Eddie to talk to him. 

"I'm just worried s'all," he says softly from Eddie's doorway on the third day, his expression pinched in that way Eddie hates, "you should go out, do something, come on".

Wayne claps his hands together and disappears for a moment only to return with a tape case from the living room.

"Wayne, no--"

"It's overdue Eds, just bring it back for me would ya?"

Eddie groans into his hands at the triumphant expression on his uncle's face as he gets up from his bed and tugs on his leather jacket. 

"Since your friends work there," Wayne says brightly, gesturing with the tape as he hands it over to Eddie, "you should see if they waive the late fee for us". 

"I agreed to take it back, not talk to people," Eddie grumbles under his breath as Wayne shakes his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"At least you won't be growing mold anymore, sitting there in the dark," Wayne says with a wink, ignoring the indignant scoff Eddie makes.

"Store closes in a half hour kid, you better hurry!"

Shit.

Eddie grumbless petulantly as he hurries out the door, ignoring the way Wayne compares his groans to a haunted house door.

He doesn't smile at the jib, and it doesn't make him laugh for the first time in days as he gets into the van, it doesn't!

The parking lot of Family Video is empty, but what did he really expect on a Wednesday at half past eight in the evening. 

The Open sign is still on at least but the low lights in the building and the bright copper glare of the sunset make it so much more difficult to see who is working tonight. 

He could just toss the tape into the return slot and wait out the late fees, he's sure another video store will eventually open up in Hawkins, they can take their business there.

Eddie sighs heavily as he shuts off the van and yanks out the key, "dammit Wayne," he mutters under his breath as he gets out and makes his way to the door. 

Eddie winces at the sharp jingle of the bell above the door and looks around, his head on a swivel, looking for any sign of Steve and his big, stupid, hair.

Robin waves from the counter as Eddie spots her, she's grinning at him with a sly look on her face as she leans against the counter, the multiple buttons and pins on her vest clink against the glass surface.

"There he is," Robin crows, drumming the counter, "I was beginning to think Steve had kidnapped you or something, were you allowed out for good behavior?"

She seems to realize what she had just implied and winces, shaking her head as Eddie snorts mirthlessly. 

"Uh, no, I just came to return this for my uncle," Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes level with the counter rather than Robin's eyes. 

She frowns at him, taking the tape he slides across the counter and scanning it without dropping her gaze. 

"What's with you?" She says suspiciously. 

Robin drums her fingers lightly against the counter, as the large computer beeps acknowledging the return.

"Nothing, tired," Eddie shrugs, he's not about to tell Robin about what happened, though it is weird that she doesn't already know? 

Maybe she wasn't in on it, he can't imagine that Buckley would approve of a prank like that on another 'friend of Dorothy' but she was Steve's best friend first and foremost.

A song comes on over the small Family Video speakers, humming in the background. 

'All I wanna do when I wake up in the morning is see your eyes

Rosanna, Rosanna…'

Robin wrinkles her nose, her eyes traveling towards one of the large speakers in the corner before looking back to Eddie, a large grin in place.

"God this sappy shit, I told Steve not to put this one on the tape, you must hate Toto".

Eddie shrugs again, glaring at the floor, wishing he could burn a hole into it that he could escape through. 

"He did play it…didn't he?" Robin asks quietly, a small trace of anxiety in her voice as she leans away from the counter.

Eddie stops himself from rolling his eyes; if he was being honest, the tape was a nice touch --really sold the whole prank, honestly.

He looks back up to find Robin staring at him, and sighs heavily, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," he huffs, taking a step back towards the front door, Robin's eyes follow his path in confusion, "I wasn't much of a fan of the choices".

"But it's fine right," Eddie scoffs, "he can use his little tape on someone his shit will actually work on next time".

"What?" Robin says incredulously, her face scrunches into a frown as Eddie laughs.

"You know Buckley, I'm surprised you were on board with this?" 

"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?" Robin hisses, shrill and loud, as she finally walks around the counter towards him.

"Oh don't give me that, he's your best friend, you're going to tell me he didn't tell you about his plan?" Eddie shakes his head as a high pitched laugh bubbles up out of his chest.

"I don't know what plan you're talking about Eddie," she says in a low voice, her eyes wide and angry, "the only thing Steve was going to do that night was tell you how he felt about you". 

"Yeah right, Steve Harrington, wants me? And that's not a fucking joke?"

She sucks her teeth, letting her eyes roam over his face, "this was such a mistake, okay, get out". 

Eddie sneers sharply, "a mistake?"

"Yeah, I never should have gotten his hopes up". 

Robin crosses to the window behind the counter and shuts off the second neon open sign before breezing past Eddie to pull the cord on the other sign, nearly hard enough to yank it down. 

No, no, no, no, it's not true, she's just saving face, she has to be…

Robin stands beside the door, a furious glare aimed at Eddie, "we're closed, get out, I need to go check on Steve". 

Unbelievable, Eddie does roll his eyes at this and heads towards her for the door, he takes the push bar in his hands and leans on it to swing the exit open before turning to Robin one last time, he wants so badly to have the last word it hurts.

"Better go check on King-Steve, I'm sure he's devastated," Eddie snarls, the furious fire from before burns bright in his chest as he watches Robin stiffen in the doorway.

"I haven't talked to him since Sunday Munson, until just now, I thought he was with you!"

Robin reaches out to grab both doors in her hands.

"Asshole," she scoffs, her eyes never leaving his as she locks the doors in his face. 

***

1980, Hawkins, Indiana

Eddie sniffles as he walks home, he can feel blood trickle down his chin from the split lip Paul gave him while his knee aches from where he hit the ground. 

He's not even sure what he did.

Paul had been so nice recently, talking with Eddie almost every day, eventually taking him under his wing. Paul was a year above Eddie at their Middle school, and when he had told Eddie to meet him under the bleachers after school, how could Eddie say no? 

It didn't help that Paul had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the nicest laugh Eddie had ever heard.

What Eddie hadn't been expecting was Randy and David, also in Paul's grade, to be waiting for him. 

He breathes out a wet sob and keeps walking, scrubbing his face harshly as their trailer in Forest Hills comes into view, almost home.

Eddie reaches into his pocket and winces when he realizes his keys are gone, alongside his backpack.

They must have fallen out of his pocket in the scuffle.

The backpack was a different story.

He limps up the steps of their porch, wincing as the fabric of his jeans pulls at the drying blood on his knee, and knocks on the front door.

"Comin," Wayne calls from inside, "coming, wasn't expectin' anyone-- Ed?" 

Wayne's face goes through a series of expressions, from surprise, to anger, before settling on concern. 

He leans down and brings his hands up to Eddie's face, turning it gently to see the damage.

"Who did this," Wayne says quietly, he stands up to his full height, looking around the trailer park behind Eddie while tucking him closer.

"It was at school," Eddie sniffles again, his voice growing tight, "I'm okay". 

Wayne looks down at him for a moment before shaking his head and moving out of the door to pull Eddie inside.

"Hurt anywhere else?" Wayne asks as he walks Eddie to the kitchen, one arm around his shoulder as though afraid the fourteen year old will collapse at any moment.

"I fell, my knee hurts," Eddie mumbles as he sits at the kitchen table in the corner while Wayne crosses to the cabinets and busies himself with grabbing two clean wash clothes and peroxide from the cupboard above their stove.

It's quiet for a moment while Wayne wets one of the clothes at the sink and makes his way back to Eddie.

He kneels on the floor, balancing his weight on his good knee while the other remains bent at a more comfortable ninety degree angle. His joints creak slightly as he gets comfortable but he still smiles at Eddie all the same.

"Won't you be sore after this?" Eddie sighs, wishing Wayne would just let him go to the washroom now to clean himself up. 

"You let me worry about that," Wayne grumbles as he reaches up to wipe the blood and dirt from Eddie's face with the wet cloth. It's warm from the water and Wayne's gentle hand.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Wayne asks softly, as he reaches for the bottle of peroxide and tips it into the second cloth. He tilts Eddie's face to dab gently at the now dirt free cuts.

Eddie sucks his teeth at the sting and closes his eyes.

He doesn't even know where to really start. 

Paul hadn't been the one to push him off his feet, that had been Randy, but that hadn't stopped Paul from laughing and calling Eddie a fairy. 

David had been the one to take his bag, dumping everything out into the dirt and ripping it until the zipper broke. 

Luckily all of his school books were still in his locker, but all of the campaign notes from his most recent D&D game had been in there, along with the worn copy of the Hobbit his mother had given him. 

All of it was still sitting in the mud and grass by the bleachers, stomped into the ground by David's white sneakers.

Eddie shrugs as Wayne leans back slightly. He takes Eddie's leg and slowly bends the knee at the joint, his eyes search Eddies for any sign of strain. The only sting comes from the way the jean material pulls at the drying blood from his scrapes.

Wayne breathes out and scrubs a hand over his tired face, his fingers catch on the grey stubble as they slide down and drop into Wayne's lap.

"I'll make an appointment on Monday with the principal," Wayne says as he stands up with a stifled groan, turning away from Eddie who shakes his head like a wet dog. 

"Wayne you can't--"

"Edward, what do you expect me to do? You come home lookin' like hell and you won't tell me what happened?" 

Eddie bites his split lip hard enough for the faint taste of copper to stain his tongue once more, how could he tell Wayne just what those boys had yelled at him as he sat in the dirt cradling his head, wishing he'd just gone home.

Wayne sighs loudly as he raises his face towards the ceiling, his lips move slightly but Eddie can't make out what he's saying before he looks back at Eddie, his expression worn.

"Okay, okay," Wayne murmurs, walking back towards Eddie, he pulls one of the other mismatched chairs towards himself and sits down, "I won't call, but you have to meet me halfway, alright?" 

Eddie hesitates, swallowing roughly, maybe there was a way to tell Wayne without telling him everything.

"There were some boys at school, um," Eddie picks at one of the holes in his blue jeans, pulling at the frayed thread absently, "I guess just, one at first but…".

His eyes burn suddenly as the words rip through him once again.

"He told me to come to the bleachers and then," Eddie's voice wobbles this time as his throat tightens, "there were more of them and they…called me--" 

Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down to hide his shining eyes, he doesn't notice Wayne coming closer until he feels a hand in his hair and the dam finally breaks.

Six years later, Eddie can still remember what his uncle told him that day as he cried in his arms.

"People can be cruel, especially when they don't understand, and sometimes that means being careful of who you open yourself up to. But you can tell me anything Ed, and I'll love ya no matter what. You always have home to come back to". 

Eddie knew people like Steve Harrington. He'd been around them his whole life. 

Sometimes they went by Paul, sometimes by Jason, or Billy.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous, any less capable of inflicting hurt on people that were different. 

So, Robin could say that Steve wasn't like that until she was blue in the face, because she was…wrong…

Wasn't she?

Taglist: @ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality

Part Three now up!

[valtsv]

Do you write stories?

occasionally, but mostly i just come up with ideas that never make it past the worldbuilding stage

[lazuliquetzal]

I keep on telling people you're the only one who knows how to plot. Can you teach all of us how to plot, please? I love you.

I AM SUMMONED? PLOT BRAIN SUMMONED?

I love plotting. It's my favorite part of the writing process. Plot is "things that happen" and the best part of writing is imagining things that happen. I'm going to assume that whoever may be reading this knows how to imagine The Happenings, so I'm gonna be talking more about structure, but in like, a kinda abstract sense.

A good plot is a little bit more than a string of events. Plot is like music: there's variation in rhythm and sound and melody, but ultimately there's cohesion, because it's all one song. You can have a bunch of wild things happening, but no matter how strange, there should be something that links them all together, because you're telling one story.

Plot structures are patterns in stories. I'm pretty sure most of them were developed as analysis tools (as in, story already exists > look! it follows this pattern) rather than as writing tools, but people use them as writing tools because it's a neat little way to organize the chaos that is "shit happens." Stories follow patterns for the same reasons music follows patterns: we enjoy the certainty of hitting certain beats. But we also like being surprised. A good pop song doesn't sound like a random collection of sounds, but it also doesn't sound like the middle slider of other songs.

There is this shared concept in both music and writing: the idea of tension and release. Basically, you're playing with reader expectation: there's an imbalance in the experience (tension), and we want to see that imbalance resolved (release). All the common plot structures deal with this basic pattern:

You set an expectation

There are complications to the expectation

You meet the expectation

And this rhythm is happening on multiple levels in writing. Scenes follow this structure (we're gonna get past that door, we're gonna find the murder weapon, we're gonna collaborate and come up with a plan) and all those scenes feed into the overarching expectation (we're gonna solve this murder!). I usually think of chapters as their own mini-story, part of the larger whole. And I think of scenes as their own mini-story, part of the larger chapter. I have engineer brain. I see the gears spinning in the clock. That's why all my chapters have at least One Important Thing happening, because that's that particular chapter's Step #3.

And One Last Important Thing:

In music, a delayed resolution is almost always more interesting than the standard resolution. In writing, that means you wanna drag out Step #2 for as long as you can. That's where the bulk of the story is happening, that's how you build tension, that's how you get people to turn the page.

So when you write a fake dating fic, those bitches better not get together until the very end. I came here for fake dating, not for real dating, damn it. If you resolve that expectation early on, you better replace it with a different expectation that's just as engaging.

But also don't drag it out for too long. Sorry. The hard part of writing is learning the difference between too short and too long. Writing is unfortunately a nuanced skill which is why my advice is like "do this but not too much teehee." But tension and resolution is just rhythm, you can build a sense for it if you engage with enough stories.

[chaocollective]

thinking about the trans apollo justice tag on a03

theres really not enough going enough on it. most of it is just porn. which is cool and all, but I'm tired of sorting through the tags down to what I want to read and getting about 20 results; and almost all of them being oneshots or being almost completely irrelevant to the fact apollo is trans in the story.

I get it that sometimes transness doesnt have to be the main point of a story. but like... it affects so many facets of your life at the time and I wanna see that explored in my favorite media.

so I'm thinking im gonna just do it myself, like a story that's relatively canon compliant, following the events of aa4 and maybe aa5/6. I dont know about those though since I havent played aa5/6 yet and I'm currently stuck on turnabout corner in aa4. either way I'm thinking I'm gonna write a sfw trans apollo justice fic. autism blast go go go!!!

[fluffypotatey]

To be honest I am a huge Nalu shipper. But the thing is I want to know the difference between the way Natsu cares about his guildmates and Lucy. Like what is the obvious difference since that boy sees every as Nakama so how can we say that the wag he cares about Lucy is different?

Like even when Erza passed away? (All the way back in first season there was a segment where the guild was gathered at her grave and all) Natsu was still very reactive. Plus he was also said to be depressed even when Lisanna passed.

What's the difference between all of them and Lucy?

the fact that he stayed. the fact that before he met Lucy, Natsu wasn't one to stay in a group or even want to work with anyone besides Happy at the start of the story. hell, he was ready to just file Lucy down as "New Guildmate" once they reached Fairy Tail

but then, Lucy doesn't leave. she follows him on his mission to save Macao despite her not needing to or even really understanding everything about it. she stays and then fights with him and saves him. it's no secret that Natsu is strong and can take care of himself really well. he's been going on solo missions for years now, and no one has really stopped him, but that means he's been in a lot of sticky situations where he and Happy are on their own and have no backup. and yet, without asking, Lucy offers it

and i think this is the moment when Natsu considers that maybe it's okay to have someone there to have his back (sans Happy)

"but Natsu only needed Lucy for the next quest because of the requirements," well, Natsu also wouldn't have taken or even considered that quest if it weren't for Lucy, yeah? he was not a team player (in the picking job's sense) or really wanted other people to help him on his quests sans Happy. and then he goes and picks a job that caters to their team whilst ensuring that Lucy can't say no

or maybe i'm reading too much into it 🤷🏻‍♀️

or maybe Natsu's got horrible abandonment issues that he will latch onto people so fast (Igneel & Lisanna) but also cause him to distance himself so far when left behind (his 1st time at the guild, Lisanna's death). Erza and Gray are Natsu's closet friends after Lisanna and yet they cannot reach him when he closes himself off. and then we have Lucy, who stuck by and had his back, so who is to say Natsu didn't make some contingencies to ensure whether or not she'd join him?

but maybe it's the rose, colored ship glasses i have on

because yeah, Natsu cares for all of his guildmates. the power of friendship is his biggest motivator. when we meet Natsu, our first introductions of him is defending his guild's reputation from Bora (who was using it as a guise for human trafficking) and saving Macao. and our 1st big arc (Galuna Island), where Natsu adamantly refuses to allow Gray to use Ice Shell and sacrifice himself despite how antagonistic they've been to each other. we get Natsu 100% at Erza's defense throughout the Tower of Heaven and he is even ready to defend Wendy though they only met hours ago

Natsu is a character with a bleeding heart and cannot help but wear it on his sleeve, but we don't really see him allow others to fight his battles or have his back until Lucy comes in. to be honest, i don't even think he had his heart on his sleeve until Lucy. he still has a bleeding heart (i don't think anything could stop that), but he was not ready to be open in receiving company because he was so used to it being ripped away from him

that being said: of all the characters he interacts with, he finds Lucy to be someone compatible enough for him to start going on team missions and inviting her on them (for example, his 1st S-class mission, which he stole, he went to her house to show it to her. the fact that part of the reward was a celestial key might be a coincidence, but i wouldn't doubt it as Natsu and Happy's trump card in case she refused)

but yeah, the difference is that he stayed and didn't push her away at the beginning, but instead continued to invite her along with him to the point that doing a mission without Lucy wasn't his regular anymore. compared to the rest of the guild, of whom he spent most of his childhood with, even if he spoke to no one, they would still be around and talk to him anyway. he might not invite them on job and only challenge them to fights, but the guild is his home and a constant in his life, a constant he needs (bc heavy abandonment issues).

"okay, but he still pushed her away after he watched Igneel die right in front of him. and he left the guild for a whole year, too. so what's the difference there?" you may ask.

so 1) Natsu never thought the guild would disband. he returns to Fiore after a year and is the last to know that they disbanded. he assumed, like all the other times before and while he and others were sealed for 7 years, that Fairy Tail would still be there when he returned. he assumed that his disappearance would not impact so hard because the guild would still be around and Lucy would have the others with her

which, did not happen :)

and like, so many guild members go off on jobs, quests, or even just leave for an indiscriminate amount of time (which i, personally, believe was his rationality for leaving), so him being gone for a year was nothing! right? no harm, eh? his plan was never to be gone forever :))))

2) he just watched his father die and lose any chance of having some semblance of a long term reunion with Igneel. he literally lost one of his main driving motivations for getting stronger and taking jobs. before Fairy Tail, before anyone, it was Igneel. and to learn that a) Igneel was always with him to begin with and b) he only got to see him for less than a day after 14 years of nothing......i would feel lost too ngl

man's needed space from everybody. and he also needed comfort, but Natsu has been shown not to really be the character who asks to receive comfort (and when he does receive it, it's usually when he's already emotionally compromised). he is in the habit of shutting people out after being abandoned or losing someone close to him, with his next rationale being to "get stronger" in order to prevent what happened in the past to ever happen in the future.

anyway

what makes this different? well for one, he sent the letter only to Lucy (or it's implied since no one else is shown getting one) because of how the two spend most of their time together. even the line that goes with the panel makes it sound like Natsu is unsure on how the note will be received (maybe even hesitant? but that could be my own hopes)

and one of the 1st people he reunites with after a year is Lucy and we get such a similar parallel to the first chapter of Fairy Tail between the two as if the narrative itself is slotting them together to say "ah yes, now everything is back to normal and new journeys can begin"

but yeah, this is just a long way of saying, that Natsu does love his friends and guildmates but even when he is close to them, he kept to himself (and Happy) and sort of stayed in their orbit but always with some emotional distance because of his fear of abandonment. and then you have Lucy where he will stay for and allow her to orbit around him and he will invite to new adventures no questions asked

that's the difference

[demigod-shenanigans]

Trying to write a fic that was purely meant to be fluffy shenanigans but then decided I needed to figure out which universe it’s set in and accidentally made the backstory way more angsty than I meant for it to be. Whoops.

I stand by my choice that using Reyna’s dogs to get out of the burning maze prophecy is objectively very funny but this also means Piper and Leo may or may not have spent some time stuck with a severely injured Jason who they couldn’t take to either camp