#They don't really want to be ruled over again.

[vivwritesfics]

hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?

a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah

love youuuuuu

I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon

Verstappen reader

Warnings: light smut, fingering

When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.

It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.

She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.

So, he flew her out to Qatar.

For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.

But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.

Neither could Lando, either.

He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.

"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.

Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.

""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.

The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.

Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.

"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.

She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.

Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?

That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.

"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.

Fuck, he needed her now.

Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.

It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.

The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.

But he was the one who didn't want her.

As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."

She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"

He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.

She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."

[odinsblog]

Elie Mystal covered the ridiculous, “Presidential Immunity” (aka, “Why Can’t Trump Be Treated Like A Dictator?”) case before SCOTUS

Dreeben: "BECAUSE THERE WEREN'T CRIMES!" (he didn't yell, I did, but he said "because there weren't crimes." )

Oh God, now Roberts wondering if they should send it back to the DC circuit because he's worried about presidents getting prosecuted in bad faith.

Roberts: "The court of appeals did not get into a focused consideration of what facts we're talking about or what documents we're talking about... they did not look at what courts usually look at when... taking away immunity."

Is this motherfucker serious? His argument is "Every president coups, why is mine getting charged?"

Thomas: Are you saying there's no immunity even for official acts?

And... that could be the ballgame

Roberts, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh are more worried about a prosecutor going after a president for *political* reasons than A PRESIDENT TRYING TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT.

This is just about over.

And by "this" I mean the rule of law and by "over" I mean delayed indefinitely to help Trump.

Gorsuch suggesting that under the government's standard a president could be prosecuted for leading a "civil rights protest" in front of Congress and sought to "influence an official proceeding."

Yes, because Jan 6 and a fucking sit in are the same thing, Neil.

This is goddamn disgusting.

I'm going to keep listening because it is my literal job, but this is pretty much in the bag for Trump at this point. Remand to DC Circuit for decision on "official acts" and whether organizing a coup is one.

After November, if Trump loses, SCOTUS will return to the issue.

Alito: Are you really saying the president is subject to criminal laws like everybody else?

YES YOU DICK. THE PRESIDENT SHOULD BE SUBJECT TO THE LAWS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE!

Alito: "I'm not talking about the particular facts of this case."

WHY? WHY THE HELL ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS FUCKING CASE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?

The question I'd have for the SCOTUS now is: If you do this, why would a Republican president every peacefully transfer power again?

Democratic presidents will because Democrats follow rules that don't apply to the other side. But why would Republicans just leave *ever again*?

Alito: Couldn't FDR's decision to inter Japanese Americans during WWII be charged [as a crime]?

He says that LIKE THAT'S A BAD THING?

And Dreeben is trying to say that he couldn't.

This country, and specifically this court, is a fucking joke.

Now onto self-pardons. Alito is just playing all the Fox News hits now.

I'm going to smoke. Biden should send Seal Team 6 to Mar-a-Lago because according to Alito there's no downside.

Alito just suggested that the last election was "questionably decided"

I have left my body and am texting things I can't say aloud to my friends.

Kagan is like the first person to be asking about the actual criminal acts Trump is charged with.

I assume Alito is not listening because Kagan is a woman while Gorsuch is probably sitting there emailing the New York Times because they got something wrong on the Spelling Bee.

I see the internet is unimpressed with Dreeben but that's being a little unfair. The Republican justices want to do this, there's nothing that Dreeben could say to stop them.

What he *could* be doing was making their hypocrisy more clear for the non-legal media following along.

But... SCOTUS advocates have to preserve their ability to argue another day, and blowing up the justices in one case

A: Doesn't help them actually win the case.

B: Actively hurts them in the next one.

Kavanaugh: "Like Justice Gorsuch, I'm not concerned with the here and now of this case, I'm concerned about the future."

I don't know why this is acceptable. I do know that the justices are sure they are right about ignoring the facts of THIS ACTUAL CASE.

Kavanaugh... who WORKED FOR KEN STARR... is basically saying that Jack Smith is politically motivated and his appoint in unconstitutional.

It's... maddening. And most of the media reports will not even point out this hypocrisy.

The "independent counsel" law was rewritten into our current "special counsel" law BECAUSE of the shit Kavanaugh helped Starr do! Everybody was like "that crap can't happen again."

Somebody get @neal_katyal and @MonicaLewinsky on the phone to blow up this asshole.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Every time I try to no have a stroke listening to this bullshit, they say something even more risible and stupid.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Kavanaugh: "President Ford's pardon. Hugely unpopular when he did it... now probably looked on as one of his better decisions."

What? WHAT? WHO THE FUCK THINKS FORD'S PARDON OF NIXON WAS A GOOD IDEA? WHEN DID I DIE AND GO TO HELL????

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky This could be a men v. women 5-4 ruling.

Men: Let's kick this back to DC to further delay Trump's trial.

Soto, Kagan, Jackson: Why? That's fucking dumb.

Barrett: Ladies, I agree with you, but we shouldn't call the men fucking dumb. We should politely disagree.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky We're past the two and half hour mark for an argument where the Republican justices made their decision when they were appointed, some of them decades ago.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky KBJ is closing by trying to answer all of Gorsuch's questions, which would be effective if Gorsuch operated in good faith. But... he doesn't. So...

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I had hoped that *one* of the liberal justices would have made the point from the Common Cause brief, highlighting that the whole point of what Republican justices are doing is to give Trump delay.

Not a persuasive argument for the justices, but good for the media to hear.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky The case is submitted. Court doesn't come back till May 9th which will be a decision day.

But I think they won't decide *this* case until July 3rd for max delay. And that decision will be 5-4 to remand the case back to DC, for additional delay.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I wish I had better news for you. Thanks anyway for following along with our national descent into madness.

[drdemonprince]

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

[harlowhockeystick]

9 and 18 with coach!sid please <3

"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin?" & "i can tell when someone wants me" | poetic prompts | warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, i can redo if you don't want smut with these prompts!)

takes place after this fic.

"girl, quit eye fucking and leave some room for the rest of us. i can tell your fantasizing, but i don't blame you."

"i'm not touching him, so how can i be guilty of anything?" y/n co-workers words snap her out of her daze as she teases back. it was the beginning of an emergency staff meeting, the meaning was unknown and it was causing quite the buzz around the gymnasium. teachers, admin, and athletic staff alike were sitting together asking each other what they'd heard, known, or if they were getting fired. there was a heavy level of anxiety sitting in the room amongst them.

"sorry," y/n mumbled and sitting up straight. her friend chuckled beside her. but she couldn't help but stare, it had been a week since their dinner together, and it was all she could think about. she'd had trouble teaching, would zone out when talking to carter, their scandalous encounter was taking over her life.

"what do you think they're gonna talk about?" the other teacher asked sitting next to her, sipping coffee out of her tumbler and scrolling through emails looking for clues. "i think they're gonna talk about staff relationships."

her words made y/n's stomach drop. did it get out? did someone see her car at his house? did carter say something? did carter find out? it's amazing how many questions can run through the brain in just two seconds.

"i heard that the boys tennis coach, thomas, is having an affair with the girls tennis coach. i think one of the players caught them in the athletic offices but they did something to keep the kid quiet." y/n feels her nerves calm down, but not all that much. her eyes met with sidney's and she felt like he was trying to silently tell her something but she couldn't pick up on it. they weren't that connected.

yet.

moments later the superintendent gets on the mic and announces to faculty that in fact, both the girls and boys tennis coach were let go due to their actions. the boys coach resigned, and the girls coach was fired due to threatening the school district since she didn't do anything wrong and she was a single woman.

she felt a ball coil up inside her stomach as the staff were reminded of the policy: relationships among staff must be brought before the board if they occur within the school year. it was a district policy, to keep drama out of the way, and to keep relationships private to the parties benefit. at least, that was the way it was explained.

-

that meeting was bullshit. sent 10:45 am

y/n's phone pings signaling a text from sidney. she reads it as her students are taking their test. she feels butterflies and anxiety at the same time. her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she plans a reply.

...but what did he mean? was he against the rule, meaning he wanted a relationship? or was it just a waste of time? yes, it was a waste of time.

i know, it could have just been an email. sent 10:48

he never responds, but she gets too busy with other class periods. she gets lost back in time once more, fantasizing about that night. during lunch break spent in her darkened classroom, a bowl of warmed up soup in front of her as she grades papers until the next class comes through.

but she gets lost, in the deep trance of the memory of him. if she thinks really hard she can still feel his tongue sliding against her slick core, she can feel herself coming undone again at the force of his skilled and talented body.

she can feel his calloused but soft hands sliding down her body, grasping at her breasts while he sucks all of the sweet juice that flows out of her. she remembers her back arching off his wooden dinner table while he lapped at her for at least ten minutes straight, before he slid his thick cock inside of her for another ten.

she's taken out of her daydream by the sound of the school bell. she has three minutes to get herself back in order to teach again. she considers assigning today a reading and catch up day...so she can continue to reminisce.

dinner at my place? sent 1:23 pm

hell yes sent 1:24 pm

-

"you're bad at hiding your feelings, y/n." sidney stated, flipping over the steak on the grill and setting his wine glass down on the granite countertop. y/n sat on the barstool across from him, drinking a cocktail she made herself.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she took a bigger swig of the alcohol this time, holding eye contact with him as he leaned onto the countertop with his hands, making himself appear bigger in front of her. it worked.

"i can tell when someone wants me. half the women in that school want me, but you're the only one who went for it." she feels like a crook who was caught. "i know you act like last week didn't happen, but it's all i've been thinking about." now he's standing just inches from her on his back patio, the smell of grilled steak and vegetables filling her brain and the firm but agonizing touch making her go weak.

"it's all i can think about too." his thumb glides across her cheek, his whiskey colored eyes staring into her soul, what it feels like for hours. he bites his lip and she thinks she's gonna pass out.

"tell me what you thought about, maybe we'll reenact it after dinner. can't have you eating cold steak, can i?"

[ghyulia]

Shouto Todoroki x reader, wc ~2.9k

tw: injuries, a little bit of angst if u squint rlly hard just dumb todoroki in luvv

There are three times with you when Shouto has to physically stop himself from kissing you.

The first time is when you two are cleaning up after the UA festival. You had offered to stay behind to clean up the little that was left while everyone else had headed to the beauty pageant. You didn't mind missing out on it, really. The performance with your class was already so much fun and left you feeling content enough for the rest of the day. Todoroki, upon hearing your offer, also decides that he wants to stay back and clean up. His excuse is that "Most of what's left is my ice anyway." You smile and say that you would definitely appreciate his help. You fail to notice how the tips of his ears change into a redder hue.

You two work in comfortable silence, getting rid of most of the ice. It stayed like that for a while, until you heard one of your favorite songs playing from somewhere on the UA campus. "Oh, I love this song!" You said, humming along. Todoroki couldn't help but stare. You look so happy. He felt something warm blooming in his chest again. At first, Todoroki had wondered why this only happened when he was around you. He thought he might be sick, but after these..weird phenomena in his body kept on occurring, he took to the web, which gave him a better insight into his strange feelings. Love wasn't something he was experienced in, as he didn't receive much as a child. It was his first time ever feeling this way...

He's so busy staring at you that he doesn't even realize when he stabs himself with one of the props.

"Todoroki, Oh my God! You're bleeding!" You yell as you frantically rush over to where he is. "Oh. I am." The boy murmurs. You grab his hand without a second thought and inspect the damage done. "It's not that deep, which is great! You should probably put a bandaid on it though." You say, flipping his hand front and back. You're so close. Shouto has to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking to kiss you. You two had finally started getting closer. If you didn't see him that way, or if you just didn't want to kiss him, Todoroki thinks he would probably never recover. Ever. So he just tries his best to avert his gaze from you. "I should probably head over to Recovery Girl, then." Todoroki mumbles, still not looking directly at you. "Actually, I think I have a bandaid. Wait one sec!" You abruptly let go of Todoroki's hand before running over to where you left your bag. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and tries his best to calm his nerves. You dig in your bag for a while, before finally jogging back to where you left the boy. "Here! It's a bit childish, so if you don't want to wear it I totally understand, haha." You smile.

The bandaid is pretty childish. It's hot pink, with little kirbies and yoshies plastered all over the flimsy material. Todoroki can't help but crack a smile. "I'll take it. Thanks, (Name)." You smile at him before getting back to work.

30 minutes later, everywhere is clean. Todoroki bids you a short goodbye before heading to the auditorium's exit.

"By the way, Todoroki?" "Your hands are really pretty."

Todoroki swears he can feel his heart explode. He utters a quick "Thank you" before hastily exiting the room.

He never ends up using your bandaid, instead opting to keep it safe in the confines of his wallet. (He just wants to have it forever and stare at it. It's his first gift from you, after all.)

The second time is during your hangout together. Upon visiting Todoroki's dorm a week prior and finding out he had never done the fun average teenage stuff (Amusement parks, zoos, aquariums, the like) you insist on taking him out along with a few other classmates to paintball.

You explain how it works and the rules, and he listens, head nodding up and down like a puppy. Cute, you think.

Paintball is a blast, is all Todoroki can think. The first round was pretty calm, with everyone trying to get into the feel of the game. The matches afterward are pure chaos. The good kind. Everyone is doused in paints of various colors. Hours go by, and everyone decides to have the final match before going to lunch. You and Todoroki are on different teams, which disappoints him a little, but nothing he can't handle of course. (He's sulking miserably.)

The game progresses, and still no sight of you. Todoroki lets out a small sigh before scouting the area for a potential target. He doesn't notice you sneaking up behind him. You decide that instead of shooting him, it would be more surprising if you just throw all of your paintballs at him. By the time he realizes you're behind him, it's too late. "Gotcha!" You shout. Todoroki's covered in paint from head to toe now, but he knows that your arsenal is wiped out. He gets to work, quickly trying to grab his gun and extend the distance from you two. You don't allow that though, closing in on him even more and attempting to grab the gun from his hand. As a last-ditch effort to get you, Todoroki tries to reach for the paintballs attached to his thigh. You frantically grab his hand and intertwine your fingers in them, pushing him backward until you both fall over. At this point, you both are rolling, trying to take the paint on Todoroki's thigh until you roll right into a designated trap that ends up spilling paint all over the both of you. You both stop and blink. You guys look like a mess. You burst out into a fit of laughter, and Todoroki just stares at you. He didn't even realize the proximity you two are in until now. You smell like green apples...or something else that's fruity. He can feel your breath as you laugh, and he swears he might just kiss you right now.

You finally realize that one of your hands are still intertwined together, and blurt out a quick apology before wiping away some paint from your eyes. Todoroki gets up and offers you his hand, smiling wider than you've ever seen him do before. You take it, and he doesn't let go until you reach the paintball locker rooms.

The rest of the day is just as fun. When the evening rolls by, Todoroki offers to walk with you back to the dorms. "Today was really fun, wasn't it Todoroki? Next time I think we should totally go to the aquarium! Spring break is coming up soon, so we can ask Mr. Aizawa beforehand for permission if you want!" You beam. Todoroki smiles.

"Yeah."

(And it was on that trip to the aquarium where you two ended up on a first-name basis. Todoroki thinks that the paintball and aquarium trips were genuinely the happiest he's ever been in his life. The pictures from those days hung up on the wall in his room attest to that.)

The third and final time is when you get badly injured. Due to Todoroki's feud with Yoarashi, and Bakugou's poor performance during the rescue section, They had both failed to get their provisional hero licenses. You however had successfully gotten your license and had started your hero intern studies with the rest.

You were doing your internship with Ryukyu and were enjoying it for the most part. It was hard, but you were learning new things, so it was pretty rewarding. You hadn't really talked to Shouto much as you were busy with your work and he was busy taking his supplemental makeup lessons. You would occasionally say hi and bye, but that was pretty much it. Shouto was losing his mind. He already felt annoyed that he had let his feelings about his old man get the better of him during the test, causing him to lose his license, but he was losing way more now. He was losing time with you.

Eventually, you and a few of your classmates are pulled into an operation regarding the Shie Hassakai. You learn about the plan to defeat Kai Chisaki, the mastermind of this yakuza group, and to save a girl named Eri. You hear about the horrors being done to her and it sickens you to your stomach. After the briefing, you, Midoriya, Ochaco, Kirishima, and Asui are sworn into secrecy. You can't tell anybody about the mission. (but you so badly want to tell Shouto.)

The days leading up to the mission are horrible for you. You feel so nauseous every time you think about poor Eri. How could Chisaki do this to his own kid? The rest of 1-A seem to take note of the damper on a few of you guys' moods, with Iida always offering an ear to any problems you may be facing. It doesn't go unnoticed by Shouto either. He hates seeing you look that way. He's never seen you make such a sad expression. He doesn't know what to do or how to approach how you're feeling, so he just watches from afar. Occasionally, he offers you some of his lunch. You just force a smile at him and politely refuse, making him feel even more useless. He was so frustrated with himself for not being able to make you smile like you did that day. (His mind wanders back to the paintball trip...).

(You yourself were in your own turmoil. Every time Shouto talked to you, offered you a smile or some of his lunch, you fought the urge to just spill everything and cry in his arms. When did your crush on him get so bad?)

Shouto decides to let it go for now, resolving to visit your room later and ask force you to tell him what's wrong.

But that resolve is quickly crumbled upon making his way to your dorm, hearing the faint sounds of sniffling and muffled sobs. Shouto freezes in his tracks, unsure of what to do. Should he still knock? He knows you'll pretend to not have been crying. He doesn't how he would comfort you...

And so he decides that tomorrow, he'll definitely talk to you. For tonight though, he'll think of all the ways to make you feel better.

As it happens, tonight turns out to be the night of the operation. You slip out of your room at an ungodly hour and meet up with the others.

The mission goes as it goes. You end up separated from the others, left to fight some of Chisaki's goons. You hold your own, making them bite the curb. You only sustained minor injuries, to your luck. You're about to go regroup with the others when some of the underlings inject themselves with a quirk booster shot and all but pounce on you. You grit your teeth and prepare for a rematch. Does it even count as one? You think. You fight, but it feels never-ending. The enemies just keep on getting stronger. Eventually, you're bruised, bloody, and losing stamina. You feel yourself getting weaker. Your field of vision starts to distort, leaving you queasy. You need to wrap this up, quick. One of the enemies manages to leave another deep wound on your abdomen, but you fight through the pain and use this moment to land a fatal attack yourself. After fifteen more minutes of gruesome fighting, you finally land the dealing blow on the last of the goons. You think you did until you see him get up again. At this point, you're bleeding from too many places to count, and you can barely hold yourself up, let alone attack again. So you brace yourself for an attack that never comes. You open your eyes and realize that the enemy couldn't even handle the quirk booster in his system anymore, passing out from the strain. Thank God. The adrenaline wears off, and you pass out, lying in a pool of your own blood. The only thing you can think of before you're out is Shouto and his smile. That day you two went to the aquarium was really fun.

When you come to, you're in a hospital bed. You blink, trying to adjust to the light. You dart your eyes around, observing your surroundings. Is it over? You think, before slowly sitting up. Your wounds don't hurt as much as you thought they would.

You later learn from the Doctor that you had been asleep for almost two days. She also tells you that since your injuries seem to be healing well, you should expect to be discharged by tomorrow. And you do along with the others.

You're greeted at the dorms with a warm welcome and a 'great job!' from most. You look around for Shouto and spot him sitting on the couch saying something to Bakugou. You want to talk to him and catch up on things, but maybe that should wait... You opt to talk with Mina and Hagakure instead. (Once again, You fail to notice the boy staring intently at you.)

You decide to retire to your dorm for the night, feeling tired yet relieved. With the whole operation done and Eri saved you felt like you could sleep peacefully--- for the most part. A part of you really wanted to talk to Shouto. It felt so long since you two had done that. He didn't say a word to you today. Was he mad you didn't tell him about the operation? You tried to talk to him after your conversation with Mina and Hagakure, but by the time you finished, he was gone. You let out a sigh and wait for the elevator.

"(Name)." You turn around to face the white and red-haired boy. Your heart does a little jump for joy. "Hey, Shouto! It's been a while hasn't it?" You attempt to make small talk, but it seems like he isn't having it at all. The elevator comes, and you both get on. It's silent, but not the comfortable kind. You feel him staring at you. "Is something wrong?" You inquire, smiling politely. "Yeah." Shouto leaves it at that and you turn to face him. "Oh..do you wanna talk about it? I was heading to my room if you wanna come with." He nods, not saying anything else until you close your room door.

"So..What's up?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. You take a seat on your bed and pat the spot next to you, motioning the boy to sit. He does. Shouto doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know what to say, so he just exhales and lets all his feelings pour out.

"You...When you first began your work-study you got really busy...Which is normal, of course. We didn't get any time to talk to each other anymore, which hurt me a little (A lot). Then the special operation came along, and you got really gloomy. I know why now, but at the time, I didn't. And I didn't expect you to tell me why you were down in the dumps because it was obvious you didn't want to tell me, but it was still hard to watch you be so sad. I hate watching you make such a pained expression, (Name). I felt helpless. I just wanted to make you smile and laugh like you did for me. Whenever I see you smile, it makes me want to smile too. To make things worse, I wanted to talk to you about your feelings, but I froze when I got to your room after hearing you crying. I hate myself for it. I told myself that I would do it the next day, but by then, you were gone. I regret it so much. Fuck, I really wish I had just knocked on the door. And then I heard that you got seriously injured during the mission and it felt like my heart was being clawed out from the inside. I hated that feeling so much, (Name). And honestly, I lied. Not talking to you hurt me a lot, because I love talking to you, (Name). I love..." Shouto stops and looks at you.

You stare at him for a while, processing everything he said. "I didn't know you felt that way, Shouto." You moved closer to the boy before placing your hand on his. "I...felt the same way, for the most part. I hated not talking to you as much, too. And also, I did want to tell you about everything. In fact, you were the only person I wanted to talk about it to. But I couldn't. But I should've at least talked to you on a general level. Also, I didn't know you heard me crying, hehe. You shouldn't blame yourself for not coming in. You were going to come the next day, weren't you? It was just bad timing. And I love making you smile too. For me, just being around you is usually enough to lift my spirits too. During the operation, and even in my fight, I was thinking about you. So don't blame yourself, Shou."

Shouto just stares at you. All he really wants to do is kiss you, but he stops himself because he's unsure and anxious. He doesn't want to ruin things. He likes you too much to run that risk.

But when you intertwine your fingers with his, lean in, and press a chaste kiss to his lips, Shouto stops denying himself heaven and crashes his lips against yours.

a/n: ahhh that's it!! I actually really like this and I love todoroki sm :))) I hope ygs like this as much as I do!

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

How to Writing multiple characters in a scene!!

Writing tips w/ Sunny (part 1, because I ramble and im positive ill end up doing this again if people want or for my own satisfaction)

This is just my methodology put in a way I think makes sense, if this doesnt apply to you thats okay everyone has different stradegies that work for them <33

SO lets begin.

"Rules" of writing multi character scenes + arcs, (First half is how to add them into a scene, second half is maintaining and not letting them vanish)

AHEM- Well there are four ways to place a character in a scene

Narration POV Aka the protagonist, this is the perspective ever present unless you CLARIFY the story is now through the lens of another character (Take for example my fic, while I play with multiple perspectives- a bulk is from Tims POV)

Secondary POV This is the character that DIRECTLY interacts with the narrator aka their "first point of contact" so to speak, they ground the narrator in the scene as not alone and is actually interacting with other people. (This DOES NOT have to be a speaking role, it can be purely observational if need be- but its the character that gets the most attention via the narrators perspective SIDE NOTE- THIS CAN SWITCH AS WELL)

Interactive POV Now we get to the "filling"- since Secondary doesn't need a direct tie to the narrator, you can have another character interact with the secondary character. But since they are not the focus of the scene its good to have a REASON they "Enter" or else if you spend so long giving the narrators perspective on #2 then you risk having someone "Materialize" in thin air. (This isnt really a concern unless you wait too long into the scene to go "Oh this guy exists-" you have time as you paint the reader a picture of the new enviornment/scene)

Enviorment POV Last but most certainly not least (and the one i've seen people struggle with the most) is the character that is PRESENT A N D NAMED- But serves no plot importance/relevance (to the narrator) during the opening part of the scene.

To put in better perspective- think of being in a room, The Narrator is you observing your surroundings (depending on POV style how "into the mind" of the narrator we go)

Secondary is the person you focus on, you hear their conversation, see their body language, expression, clothing, etc. They are the personal "focus" (there can be multiple as well)

Interactive is people SURROUNDING the focus, those who still play a semi active and visible role. They can either be within your line of sight interacting with the enviorment or speaking to a secondary/narrator character.

Enviorment is the person in the back of class that you know, but don't really register unless they do/say something- but you are still AWARE of their presence. CAREFUL NOT TO INTRODUCE THEM TOO LATE, OR ELSE YOU HAVE THE "MATERIALIZE" PROBLEM AGAIN

Now into a scene(aka recycling an old one)

Tim starred ahead silently from his side of the couch, watching Jason fidget with the soda tab on his shitty off brand Doctor Pepper he always insisted on getting. Around and around over and over, it was giving him second hand anxiety.

Thankfully they weren't forced to stay in the moment as Dick leaned over and pressed his shoulder into Jasons with a beaming smile "Oh come on it'll be fun"!

"Says you golden boy" Steph teased, half hanging off her chair and a foot almost knocking over Cass chip bag, only stopped by the fact Duke snatched it and moved it further along the table.

Well at least Damian seemed to be reacting rationally, seeming intent on slouching in on himself the more Dick tried to pull him and Jason together into a "group hug". It was a wonder his arms could even reach that far- even more so that they were still intact.

But Jason, like the rest of them, was weak to Dicks puppy dog eyes. Tim saw the moment he gave up a losing battle and his shoulders slumped in defeat, though his scowl ever present. "If I say yes will you fuck off"

"Ah ah language, we have children here"! Dick gasped, placing his ears on Damians ears which only earned him a snarl in return.

"I don't think Damian counts as a kid- and I just turned 16 which is basically an adult" Duke tried to defend, but his 'fierce glare' had less effect with his hand stuck in a bag of gummy worms.

Tim huffed- if Dick kept it up, they would end up with "family night", and he doubted all of them would come back alive.

(END SCENE)

Now to break down- Tim was of course the "Narrator" perspective that was viewing the scene, we get his insight even while not directly interacting with the characters just by his description tone.

Jason was of course the main "Secondary"character (though Dick was a mix as well) where the scene introduced by Tims perpective and tone by someone else in the enviornment.

Then you have Dick who is a perfect mix of Interactive character (how he entered the scene via movement, placing himself in perspective to the established other two) while shifting to have the most "scene impact" whilst still not being Tims focus.

Finally you have everyone else serving as Enviornment characters, with either a simple Line-action (ex-Steph) or a name drop in general placement (Cass) or establishment through movement, and only relevent later in the scene (Duke).

Damian kind of floats between, he is introduced via a reaction + Narrator observation, but then is mostly just an eviornment character. He is THERE but not really awknowleged beyond that.

NEXT- If that doesn't help much you can rely on "Environment rule"

Aka everyone is always doing something in any space they occupy- apply that to your characters. It can be as simple as when you have one character speak loudly to the narrating POV, another character shifts away or laughs.

They didn't need to speak nor did you need to detract from the tension/pacing of a scene by describing in detail their expression, positon, etc.

BUT in that moment your reader just clues in to "Oh okay x is here-" that is established, and whether or not x plays a role in a future scene within that enviornment doesnt matter much.

This is also the PERFECT oppertunity to give characterization. If a tense moment is going on you can have the narrator notice another character stiffen/flinch (aka affected by the conflict, even if not an active participant)

FINAL PART- MAINTAINING

This is where shit can hit the fan f a s t- getting a bunch of characters in a scene is one thing but keeping them there?? Hell at times.

But once again this all relies on "Narrator perspective" and unless you are switching narrators, you need a "cone of vision" to determine what is or isn't important unless you might break the tension of a scene.

Methods include-

Reactions

Two+ background characters interact (verbal or not)

Interact with enviornment

Enter/Leave a space (of note)

A sound registered but not explored (a chair creaking back, a glass dropping, snack bag rustling, or even my favorite which is the sudden absense of sound implying an audience)

"Incidents" (Someone drops something, attention goes to them for a sec- apology/oneliners, then switch back)

Check ins from NON NARRATOR, (or narrator, but usually works better to keep track of who is focused on who)

Characters don't need to be "ever present" just remind your reader they exist somewhere generally in the scene (and keep them in your back pocket)

But The best possible tool at your disposal?? BANTER.

Let characters interact, feel out their dyanmics- If you dont know how they interact in non tense situations, how does that change when tension amps up. Have a background character throw in a one liner- or the narrator observe a conversation they aren't a part of.

LET PEOPLE BE PEOPLE- And they basically write themselves

Last but not least- if you feel stuck or lost?? Treat EVERYONE like a narrator.

Who are they paying attention to? What are they seeing? How do they REACT to that? Do they speak up, do they tense, do they try and slip away or stay strong?

You don't need to know this for EVERY scene- but sometimes it helps out of a rut moment

ANYWAYYSS- This is my rant and personal methodology of how I place/maintain multiple characters. I hope this helps for anyone interested, if not find what works for you!!

My Asks are open if anyone wants me to give any other advice, tips, or just general ramblings about writing.

Otherwise,

Happy writing!!

[prythiansfavoritefox]

The first time he went back --> Tamcien, ACOFAS

"Tamlin." Lucien's face was carefully neutral, his limbs loose, nothing in his scent or his body language giving away anything about how he felt to be standing before his once High Lord again.

"Lucien." Tamlin was relieved, at least, to see that his old friend had not adopted the Night Court fashion, opting for a blue and silver tunic instead. "I see you've been keeping this place clean in case I decided to come back," he said sarcastically. Then, there was a strong scent of rust and embers as Lucien began using his magic to move some things around. "There. At least it's somewhat livable now. Don't you have servants, Tamlin?"

Tamlin didn't fail to notice that Lucien called him by his full name rather than by his nickname. Lucien had called him Tam practically from the moment he'd arrived despite Tamlin's insistence that he show him the respect due of a High Lord, and decorum, blah blah blah. After some point, he stopped fighting it because he liked that Lucien had a special name only for him.

"Some. Most are too scared to question the state of the place. Many have left." Tamlin stared blankly at a wall. He had no fight left in him. All his anger had left him the moment he'd brought Rhysand back to life. There was no one left to be angry at. Nothing left to fight for.

Feyre had ruined him, and yet Tamlin had done that. Why? Why did he still love her? Why did it still hurt that she chose him? How long would she be able to hurt him?

As long as he loved her.

But how did he make it stop? How did he make this love go away, stop it from carving his heart out of his chest?

"You ignored me. After the war." That's what Lucien wanted to talk about? Surely he'd understood how painful it was to see him in Illyrian leathers, how painful it was to see him so quickly accepted as part of another group, how painful it was to see him away from him. For the longest time, Lucien had been his, and his alone. Now he had a mate and a whole other court and family. He wondered now if he had possibly taken Lucien for granted.

Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-

Little did either of them know how those words would turn out to be prophetic. Fitting, he supposed, with that seer mate of his.

"The sight of you in Illyrian leathers disgusted me," Tamlin replied dully. Lucien snorted. "What else was I to do? I didn't have anything else to wear; all my clothes were back here."

"You could've just stayed with me," Tamlin replied. A stupid thing to say, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Rhysand would never understand and appreciate Lucien's value like Tamlin could.

Lucien leaned back against a wall, putting his hands behind his head. "Right. And continue to watch you listen to the female who raped me over me, the person who not only loyally served you for centuries, but has connections to every damn court in Prythian. If I had a little more power, I could rule this whole damn place, I know so much."

Tamlin snarled. "Don't remind me of that. Believe me, I am well aware of my transgressions."

"Then surely you see why I had to leave. Even if my mate were not trapped in Night, your attitude would've eventually prompted me to leave."

My mate. The words sent shards of glass into his heart. "The mating bond is a curse," he rasped. It had to be. Why else would it mate his parents together, Rhysand's parents together, and his Feyre with Rhysand? Why would it mate Lucien with Elain, thus taking his Lucien away from him?

"The mating bond is a blessing from the Mother herself," Lucien insisted.

"Don't just blindly spit back the bullshit the temple taught you," Tamlin snapped. His claws emerged from beneath his skin, trembling rage filling his body. "God can offer us many beauties, sure, but we already know that She can also be cruel. Is it really so hard to believe that the mating bond is not what it's made out to be? Imagine a bond compelling you, forcing you to be with someone you don't want forever."

"Who said I don't want Elain?" Lucien whispered. Tamlin stilled. Those glass shards twisted in his heart a little bit more. "You think it's just a bond compelling me to stay with her? I thought you more intelligent than that, Tam." Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, slumping against his chair. Heartbreak was all too familiar a feeling to him at this point.

"Look, Tamlin, I'm trying here," Lucien said, his voice sounding as though he were repressing some emotion. "I know it hurts, Tam. Please, let me help you. Don't push everyone away like you always do. Don't try to go it alone."

Tam.

As though drawn by a magnet, Tamlin's eyes lifted to Lucien's. The handsome lord stared at him with an earnestness that threatened to melt all that Tamlin was into nothing. He could never resist that soft look, and that wasn't about to change.

At last, he lost control. His shoulders caved in and he began to cry into his hands.

"Tam." Lucien closed the distance between them, kneeling before him. He placed his palms on Tamlin's cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry," he murmured. "I'm here. I am here, I am with you."

Tamlin sniffed. "You should hate me."

His former emissary gently pulled him by the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. "I know," he answered quietly. "But I don't."

He pulled away, offering a hand to stand up. "You look terrible, Tam. Have you been sleeping enough?"

Sighing, Tamlin shook his head. "Not really."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Go sleep, Tam."

Tamlin just crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Lucien raised a brow at him, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You think because you're the High Lord, you can do whatever the hell you want. Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-"

The Spring Court lord grinned as the words sparked a far more pleasant memory of the two of them, leaping up in an instant. "As you wish, Lucien." The Autumn Court faerie smirked as he placed a hand on Tamlin's back, guiding him to the bedroom.

After tucking him in, Lucien was about to leave the room when Tamlin called out weakly, "Lu?"

He turned around, cocking his head. "Tam?"

Tamlin hesitated, a blush coming over his face. "Do you think- well could you...stay with me?"

Lucien sighed exasperatedly. "Just sleep, Tam."

"I can't. I've been trying for the past several days." Lucien took a deep breath, pinching his nose. "Fine. But don't expect to see me here when you get up."

"Ok." Lucien strode towards him and hopped onto the bed, leaning his head against the bedframe. Tamlin crawled towards him, placing his head on his lap. Lucien just scoffed.

"What are you, a six-year-old child?" he asked, but he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. Tamlin purred.

"After all this time, you still purr like a goddamn kitty cat whenever someone touches your hair," Lucien muttered, and those were the last words Tamlin heard before sleep overtook him at last.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 2.1 - hollywood nights

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 1600

☾

She stood there bright as the sun on that California coast He was a Midwestern boy on his own She looked at him with those soft eyes, so innocent and blue He knew right then he was too far from home

☾

September 1983 - junior year

You sat on the wooden picnic table, leg bouncing up and down with a buzzing sense of anxiety.

Eddie was late. And you fucking hated when people weren't on time.

Honestly, you had nothing else to do for that entire evening, let alone the whole weekend. So his tardiness didn't really affect anything. It was the principle, though. A general respect for another individual's time. 

So the scowl on your face felt appropriate as you watched him stroll towards you. His black boots kicked up dirt around his feet, an air of cockiness hovering over him like a rain cloud.

"You don't look very happy to see me, sunshine."

Eddie Munson was your first and last choice for the tattoo. You were only 16, almost 17. And even if you were old enough, the closest tattoo parlor was several towns away from Hawkins. 

So your next logical thought was a risky homemade tattoo. Who in town wasn't a nark and had tattoos? Eddie fucking Munson. 

Normally, you would steer clear of the loud, unpredictable creature. You preferred calm things… things you could maintain control over. You kept your circle small. A quiet bubble of mundane peace. Eddie was pure chaos.

You noticed the metal lunchbox in his hand as he set it down clumsily on the table next to you. Instead of sitting down on the seat of the picnic table, Eddie perched himself on the top of it, looking down at you.

You sighed, "Let's just get this over with." His worn out boots were too close for your liking.

Ignoring your displeasure, the brown-eyed boy slowly leaned back on his elbows in a relaxed pose. The chains on his pants were the only sound in the quiet wooded park.

"How was your day, Y/N?"

You placed a palm to your face, dragging it down until you scratched at your neck. Be nice, Y/N.

"Um… it's Friday… and the weather is still warm, too. So I guess I had a good day?"

Eddie stared up at the trees above them. "You literally sound like an alien who is trying to figure out what a real human is supposed to sound like." 

Keeping your expression deadpan, you found little amusement in his teasing.

"So, should I take my pants off or what?" Standing up, you began to unbutton your jeans. "I didn't come here to have a heart-to-heart with y-"

"Woah, woah! Take it easy!" Eddie gestured wildly at you like he was trying to shield his eyes at something.

Looking around, you stood there with your pants undone. 

"I thought you came here to give me a tattoo. I told you, I want a quarter sized half moon on my-"

Eddie interrupted you again, which was also something that ticked you off. 

"Y/N," he stated coolly, "I have the memory of a fucking elephant. I remember what tattoo you want."

"So what's the problem here, Munson? I don't have all day. And you were late to our meeting to begin with."

"A real businessman, you are," the boy mumbled, staring at your bare stomach that he could see near your undone zipper. "It's just never been this easy to get a girl naked before."

"Ugh!" You threw your head back, hastily buttoning your jeans back up. He might have the memory of an elephant, but you had a fuse that was probably shorter than his cock.

With a huff, you sat down on the bench with your back to him.

"Why do you want the tattoo anyways? Does it have some kind of special meaning? You don't seem like the kinda girl to be breaking rules."

"What kind of girl do I seem like?" 

You looked at Eddie, who was back to gazing up at the canopy of green leaves. It was still basically late summer and the trees hadn't begun their transition into autumn yet.

Though his head was tilted back, his liquid dark eyes were now peering down at the frustrated girl.

"Hmm. I dunno. Y/N Buckley. French Club… good grades," Eddie pondered for a moment. "I've seen you hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and Harrington. That says a lot." 

His voice was almost resentful at that last statement, but you listened as he continued. 

"Your clothes are abnormally clean. Like, I'm surprised you're even sitting on this old ass bench with me right now. If I scuffed your white Converse you'd probably claw my eyes out."

You snorted, but you wouldn't ever dream of telling him that he was kind of spot on.

"Alright, enough of that. Can we please just do the tattoo so I can go?"

Eddie seemed scatter-brained and easily distracted. If you could help it, you would have already gotten the damn tattoo done and over with so you would never have to talk to him again. This whole situation was screaming Last House on the Left.

Digging in your pocket, you slapped the crumpled up five dollar bills on the top of the table.

☾

He'd headed west 'cause he felt that a change would do him good See some old friends, good for the soul She had been born with a face that would let her get her way He saw that face and he lost all control

☾

"So, are you gonna tell me what this whole thing is for? Seems like getting a tattoo means a lot to you."

Thankfully, he was almost done with the hand poke tattoo. You weren't exactly the best of company, in Eddie's opinion. 

But for fuck's sake, he could basically smell the sun on your skin while he was touching you. Hiding the hard-on in his jeans afterwards was going to be a legitimate problem.

So asking you questions was really the only effort of distraction available to him.

Suprisingly, after ignoring him for the last 20 minutes, you picked at your fingernails and grumbled a reluctant response.

"I just want something to keep secret."

"A secret? From who?"

He snuck a quick look at the girl, laying uncomfortably across the top of the sketchy picnic table. You were focused on your hands and inspecting your cuticles. You didn't seem fazed by the pain of the needle on your exposed hip.

Forcing his eyes away from your enigmatic face, he fought the urge to adjust his jeans. He had to keep the latex gloves on his hands sterile regardless of his dick being crushed by his pants. Completing your tattoo with precision and no infections meant a lot to him at this point.

And maybe, if he was lucky, you two might become some resemblance of friends after this.

"I don't know. My parents. Everyone around me," you shifted slightly. "Are you almost done? It's starting to get dark out."

"Stay still, Y/N. I'm just about done, then you can make your grand escape."

"Right? I'm surprised you haven't pulled out a knife yet."

Eddie held in a chuckle, trying to focus on the tiny moon. "That's the real plot twist. I'm going to wait until the tattoo is done to kill you."

"Not funny, Munson."

"You know, this isn't really a secret tattoo."

"Yes it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because I know about it."

Silence. Several minutes passed.

The half moon was borderline microscopic compared to some of his own meaningless tattoos, but in all honesty, Eddie admired it. He could only think of a handful of girls at Hawkins High with ink on them. 

But then, after a second, he suddenly felt wrong about comparing you to other girls.

"Alright, all done. Let me clean it up so you can see it."

Holding out a hand to him so that you could get off the table without rubbing the tattoo on your jeans, you looked down at your hip and sighed.

"Well, shit."

"What? Are you realizing this wasn't worth getting murdered over?"

For the first time, you let out a little laugh in front of him. Eddie was slightly stunned, and he would have fallen over in shock if he wasn't still seated on the bench of the table. The wicked Y/N Buckley actually expressed an emotion.

"No, not at all. I'm actually surprised that I like it."

"Gee, thanks, Buckley. I'm flattered."

"Do I need a bandage or something?"

Eddie reached into his lunch box for the extra-large Band-Aids he packed. Your tattoo was small enough that a dab of Vaseline and a big bandage would do the trick.

"Yeah, c'mere."

You still stood a few feet away, scowling at him.

He let out a bark of laughter. "What the fuck? Come here, I don't bite. You've been laying in front of me for a half hour without that damn look on your face."

Scuffling over to him, you seemed to have run out of abusive comebacks. He quickly applied the Band-Aid and turned away so you could button your jeans.

The snap of his latex gloves while he removed them was intentionally noisy. He wasn't sure about you. Hell, he was so used to not trusting anyone that it made him kind of angry that he wanted to trust you.

"I guess you're right," you whispered, almost inaudible.

"Hmm?" He had his back to you, cleaning up the table and packing up his box.

"This isn't a real secret."

Eddie leaned back, craning his neck behind him. You looked almost sad.

"Not exactly. But that's okay. I'll be one of your secrets, too."

☾

That was Hollywood nights In those Hollywood hills It was looking so right It was giving him chills In those big city nights In those high rolling hills Above all the lights With a passion that kills

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Hollywood Nights" by Bob Seger)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[tomssexdoll]

hiiii i know it’s not smut even though you do smut often but you are my favourite writer and i don’t know who else i should ask this so devilish era Tom and y/n meet at some kind of festival or something cause their parents are friends and they become close friends quickly but they both have crush on each other and they kiss later sorry if it doesn’t make sense i just need some fluff😭

girll you can request anything you want dont worryyy, if its by my rules its ok <3

I was at some festival my parents dragged me to, I honestly didn't want to go but when I heard the games that were there I rushed into the car, driving off with my parents.

As I arrived I stared in awe, bouncy castles, huge rides, food stalls with huge delicious looking food. My mother stumbled across one of her friends, 2 sets of twins standing beside her, I smiled at one of them, he had dreads and a lip piercing.

He blushed softly and smiled back, waving.

Bill chuckled at his pathetic attempt to flirt and walked off, going onto the ferris wheel. As our mothers talked, we wondered off with each other.

"So what's your name?" I said, turning to him. He was a little bit taller, slightly towering over me. "Tom! What's yours" "y/n!" I giggled, running off to one of the scary train rides.

We continued to talk for hours, not one moment of silence or awkwardness. It started to get dark, I sighed and knew we'd have to get back home soon, "I don't want to leave, I love spending time with you" I frowned, holding his hand.

He chuckled, "me too, but we can see each other any time we want, our mothers being friends makes it so convenient" I nodded and smiled, our fingers intertwining and eyes locking.

His soft brown eyes staring deeply into mine, his other hand came to my cheek, caressing it softly. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, they were soft and plump.

I felt my cheeks burn up, eyes wideneing when he pulled back. "Sorry.." he giggled and kissed me again, snapping me out of my trance. I smirked and leaned in, kissing him back.

"I know we just met but I really like you.." he whispered, forehead pressing against mine. "Me too Tom.." I smiled softly.

tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @ge-billsgf @ballhair @estxkios @charliesgoodboy

[madametamma]

What if after Danielle is stabilized, she goes to the ghost zone where through a series of adventures, she discovers that she is the ghost zone princess because Danny is the king by right of conquest.  She is technically next in line to inherit the throne, provided that Danny is not overthrown also by conquest/ has no offspring of his own that come of age. 

She goes through this amazing journey, first discovering the truth, then growing to understand what kind of princess she wants to be, and amassing a following of ghostly subjects after committing dangerous and grand feats of heroism that help her people and inspire them.

When she meets up with Danny again, much later, she’s become this elegant, shining armored, warrior princess, and Danny....

Had no clue he was king this whole time.  No one told him. This is how he found out.

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[introspectivememories]

touch-starved bernard dowd is sooo canon to me

[kittyhazelnut]

had a nice long cry over the fact that the tour I've been waiting to go to with my best swiftie friend for four years is no longer selling any tickets. almost puked a few times in the process. now I'm gonna spend the money I would've spent on concert tickets ordering delivery for chicken tenders instead.

[bubonicpain]

Bad news lads.... i didn't like the Barbie movie.

I'm gonna rant about my take in the tags please don't send me messages for why I'm wrong this was my personal take away if you don't like it and it makes you mad please just block me.

[the-busy-ghost]

Knowing very little about clothing construction beyond the basics of how to hand sew in a straight(ish) line, combined with machine made fast fashion garments that fall apart easily, means it takes me waaaay longer to fix a button or a ripped pocket than it really should