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loverofallthingsfandom · 6 months

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I Will [Finnick Odair x fem!reader]

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Song Inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by The Anxiety Word Count: 2,713 Series: 1 | 2 | ? Summary: it's been years since Finnick was reaped. He came out victorious, as you'd prayed he would, but then disappeared from the public eye. It wasn't long before the Capital revisited District 4 for its next competitor. Fast-forward, you're the winner of the 75th Hunger Games, and can barely sleep. When the Capitol unveils its next phase for the Games, you're thrusted back into survival as old habits return... as do old friends. Warnings: cuts, use of blades, surveillance, depression, female rage, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, making out, mentions of sex Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

You've been back for three weeks now. It feels like three years. You are the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. Your life is even worse than it was before your games, which was not meant to be part of the deal. Your entire family was dead. When you refused Snow's offer to make you a prostitute he killed them all. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. You thought he was bluffing. Now, you spend your days perched on your windowsill looking down onto the bottom floor, watching the other victors live. It provides minimal comfort knowing just because your life has taken a giant halt no one else's has. The only time you move from this spot is to go to the bathroom. Your legs are so stiff from minimal movement that you must hang onto the wall to steady yourself. You haven't showered. You've barely eaten, discounting canned foods. You're still in the clothes you wore when you arrived back. The only difference was a massive woolly blanket, providing some warmth in your cold, depressing room.

Someone comes over twice a day. You don't know who it is because you never actually look at them, eyes glued on the window. It's not because you're purposely ignoring them, but because you're lost in your own empty nothingness. And, as hard as you try, you can't fight your way back to reality. Whoever it is delivers your food.

Today was different though.

You hear them come in and remove their shoes. You hear them ramble through the kitchen for omething. After a while, their footsteps come towards you. You feel them put a hand on your slump, left shoulder. This is unusual but the difference is that you feel the urge to see who it is. You want to know who has been taking care of me. You want to know. So you find out.

"Welcome back to Earth, my dear." They say seductively with, face blurred by your unused vision.

"Finnick?" My voice all scratchy from no use.

"Wow," the blonde man said, "way to thank your mentor. But, fawn away, my dear!"

A wipe of the eyes reveals their true identity. A blonde man, indeed, but not yours. You've seen him on television during the 74th Hunger Games, often at the hip of its victors Katniss and Peeta.

"I know you."

"I'd sure hope so." Haymitch chuckles, stepping away to some stuff on your bed, his back to you.

"You... you've been helping me?"

"Of course. I couldn't let a pretty, little trainee like yourself starve, now could I?"

"Train for what?"

Haymitch paused. "You didn't see the news, did you?" You slowly shook your head, clutching your blanket. "Oh, jeez." The older man sighed. He grasped his mouth and stood silently, contemplating his next words. Having found them, he knelt in front of you as if you were a goner. "I'm sorry, kid... you're up next."

[ time skip - an hour later ]

An hour. That's how long Haymitch gave you to have a meltdown. You exploded with the pain, anger, and power of a thousand nukes. You obliterated your room - never careing for it anyways. You would've destroyed the building had physics not failed you. While you finished off your rampage with a primal scream, Haymitch waited outside the door and checked his watch.

Then he knocked. "Uh, kid. Time to go." You flung your door open and glared at him, eyes low and insides dead. "Hope you saved some of that rage for your combat."

The two of you head to the bottom floor. The elevator ride is quiet, and anyone who hops on ogles at you. Your hair sticks to your sweaty face. Your eyes are sunken and baggy. Your adrenaline is falling but you're still shivering. You look like a wild cat in captivity; tired, bitter, and vengeful. But worst of all, trapped.

You get to the ground floor and follow Haymitch to god-knows-where. Passing by training victors and their mentors doesn't faze you. You've played this game before. You won. You weren't confident you'd do it again, you just didn't care.

"Let's test out that fire on a target." Haymitch brought you to an assortment table of knives, spears, swords, and blades. He waved a finger across them. "Take your pick."

You grabbed the mezzaluna knife and peeked at your reflection. Your eyes... you'd be scared of you too.

You used to be so sweet and naive. You cared about others, maybe too much. You were selfless, self-conscious, and spineless. Killing people in an arena will take that from you. In a way, one of those victims was the old you.

'Rest in peace,' you thought.

"O-kaaay." Haymitch side-eyed you. "You ough to warm up before-" Your knife hit the bullseye with a sharp thud. "...Or not."

You threw the knife over, and over, and over until your palm sliced open. By Haymitch's advice, you took a breather and sought bandage. First aid wasn't a priority in the training hall, so you had to wander to find some proper wrappings. You didn't care if looking around made you appear clueness, or crazy, or weak.

A permanent "vacation" didn't sound so bad.

On your search, you saw Katniss Everdeen talking to someone by the rope stand. All you could see was his back and blonde hair. 'Peeta looks taller than on tv.' You thought to yourself.

Katniss looked over his shoulder, straight at you. You nodded, and she nodded back, a semblance of respect established. Her boyfriend watched her stare for a moment before turning around. By then you'd already looked away.

As you think about heading back, something within you begs you to stay. To look again, for whatever reason. Having nothing to lose or gain, you turn your head, which takes a lot of energy, and actually look and see who it is. You nearly faint as it's the person you never expected to see.

Finnick Odair.

He's squinting as if to make sure it's you. Then his eyes widen. At the same time, you both start for each other. The announcement feedback rings out, stopping you and him in your tracks. You step back and idle by, moving eye contact to the cement ground.

"Attention, victors. Let me be the first to welcome you," you didn't care to listen to the rest. All your mind could think about was Finnick. You hadn't seen him in almost 6 years, when he was torn from you and reaped. Just when he'd learned you two shared a soul mark. You pulled your sleeve down to hide it, paranoid a councilperson will see and tie you to Finnick. "but most of all, make your districts proud. Happy training! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

You try not to cry as the speaker ceases. Biting your lip, you peek back at Finnick's spot. His chest rises as he's huffing and staring at you, begging to be reunited. He looks so much older and buffer. His tan only complimented his gorgeousness. You had to have him.

But you couldn't, breaking your gaze. Not without drawing suspicion. So you bury alive your longing, conjure the numb beast born in your Hunger Game, and march over.

"Either of you know where to find wrappings?" You said, indirectly talking to Finnick but looking at Katniss. This was your way of tricking the cameras.

"I wouldn't, no." Katniss replied, scanning your body for the injury.

"I would." The man of your dreams said. Katniss looked at him, but you kept staring at her. "There's a kit cabinet, corner-east of the elevator. Should hold you down till the day's over."

You swallow the frog in your throat. It would be the first time you'd spoken to him since the day you lost him... You'd pictured that very moment countless times. The worst of circumstances had delivered. You couldn't even look into his eyes. Those beautiful, sea-foam eyes. You couldn't feel his eyes on you either. President Snow had control of you both, despite being nowhere nearby. It was no secret that man loved two things: using people as pawns and tearing people apart. You'd die before you let him do that to you and Finnick. Not again.

"And what if..." you cleared your throat, "what if I need another wrapping later on today?"

Finnick got quiet, picking up your breadcrumb. "There's a storage closet on the second floor. End of the hallway on the left. No one goes up there. Shouldn't be any eyes on you."

Eyes being cameras or guards, you understood. "Thanks."

Finnick started to say something else, but you walked away. Had you'd stayed any longer, you surely would've broken character and gotten the two of you killed.

[ time skip - later that night ]

Night fell and you were longing for Finnick's touch. Haymitch had finally fallen asleep, proved by his obnoxious snoring across the hall. You threw off your covers, revealing your blue, silk pajamas, and creaked open the door. Left, no one. Right no one. Empty hall. 'Thank God,' you sighed and tiptoed down it. The elevator button dinged and you jumped. You checked behind you, expecting your mentor or a guard. Empty hall still.

The elevator ride felt slower than usual. You lived on the 8th floor, so the 2nd floor shouldn't have taken that long. Then you remembered, making your face freeze and heart stop. There were cameras in the elevators. You curse yourself but evade looking at it. You should've taken the stairs. You hoped Finnick had.

'Finnick...'

The doors opened on the second floor. You walked out, almost robotically, and turned to the hall's end. 'End of the hallway on the left. Storage closet.' Finnick's words echoed in your head. You repeated it like a mantra as you headed that way. You finally got the storage closet door, no sign of entry. You reached for the handle when a dangerous feeling invaded you. You hadn't seen this man in nearly 6 years. You weren't the same, and perhaps so was he.

What if Finnick was deceiving you? 'No.'

What if guards are waiting behind the door?' No, he'd-'

What if Finnick was working with Snow? 'No, he'd never.'

How could you be sure? 'I'll prove it.'

You threw open the door and dove inside. Had you Finnick not caught you, you would've crashed into him. It was dark and dimly lit by a dying lightbulb. You saw illuminated Finnick's outline - his shape, really - but that was all. Not ideal circumstances, but they'd do.

"Y/N..." He was still holding you by the forearms. "Were you followed?" His voice read as serious, edging on emotionless.

"No." You said, hiding your dismay. For a moment, you regretted not bringing your knife. He had a hold of you, ambushed in a dark, small closet, in the middle of the night, and towered over you like Goliath.

Then a flashlight turned on under you. Once you saw his face, all the fear and paranoia dissolved.

"Good." He said charmingly with a sweet, gentle smile resting on his tan, god-like face. Suddenly he drops his Capitol self and you see another person not Finnick Odair but just Finnick. "I missed you s-"

You hugged him like you've never hugged anyone before. He rocked you side-to-side and you squeezed him tighter. You both chuckle as you break apart and look at each other.

"Gosh, Finn. You look so different." You gawked at his, well, everything.

"So do you, Y/NN." Finnick observed you with a sweet smile of disbelief. "Guess running for your life will do that to you." He joked, making you giggle.

Then it grew quiet as cruel reality set in.

You were both murderers. Both slaves to the Capitol. Both stuck inside a world you hate. Both surrounded by people you don't like. Even if he hadn't said it, his face told you. It had affected him too.

Your hands caress his cheeks as you mutter, "I wish things were different."

"I know what you're going through. I understand. And I felt terrible that I left without telling what," he sighed, "what you meant to me. I couldn't help you during your games because the Capitol wanted me to… take care of other business and Mags helped me a lot when I came home. So I should've looked for you, should've helped you, should've tried, because you deserve it."

You were too exhausted to cry. You contemplated aplogizing for not telling him about the soul mark. It happened so long ago that you couldn't recall if you'd said sorry then. When he was reaped and ripped away from you. So, you changed the subject. "You know why he killed my family, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I know why".

"You're a prostitute?"

"...Yes."

"To protect your family?"

"At first like you I refused then he killed my mother. The only family I had that was blood. Then he threatened to kill Mags. So I did it."

"I thought he was bluffing."

"I did too." Then Finnick's eyes fell to the ground, riddled with shame and uncertainty. "So... you don't mind? That I, uh..." his brows furrowed in angered remembrance, "that I'm... what Snow makes me do?"

You finally muster the courage to kiss him. His lips are salty and oh so plump. They mesh with yours perfectly. He grabs your face and deepens the kiss. You pull away to breath, eyes still closed and smiling. You licks your lips, relishing his citrus taste before being pulled into another kiss. Your heads move as your mouths devour each other. Your hands explore his back, sometimes tugging at his tanktop. He slides his tongue across your teeth, begging for permission. You open your mouth wide and let him slip it inside you. You suck on his long tongue and listen to his moans. As you suck and savor his slippery glossa, the idea of sex claws as you. You didn't want to soil the moment by [redacted]-ing Finnick.

Plus, you didn't have any condoms.

You let go of his tongue, which he rolled back into his smirking mouth. He dove in for another kiss but you caught his chest.

"I don't want to do it right away." You told him. You watched his face of arousal disappear, replaced by calm, and an understanding nod.

"I get it." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "We can stop here if you want."

Tears you resented stung your eyes. You bore into his chest, thoughts distant. "I don't think we can."

"Hey, hey," Finnick lifted your face, "what's wrong?"

"We're both victors, Finnick." You sniffled. "Do you really think they're gonna let two victors win again?"

It was true. Peeta and Katniss had gotten lucky. You and Finnick wouldn't be so, not if the Capitol could help it. The love you had would be destroyed, killed in the 76th Hunger Games. Not just the love between you, but one of you... one of you had to die.

"We'll find a way. Listen, listen to me. We will find a way. There's 59 days till the Games. We'll come up with a way to survive. Hide till it's over, fake our deaths, escape - whatever it takes. O-okay?" He plastered a weak yet hopeful smile. He brought your foreheads together. "I'm not losing you again. We just have to have faith. Okay?"

"We can't-"

"Promise me, Y/N. Please." Finnick begged, speaking and breathing softly. "Promise me you'll have faith in me. In us. Promise you will."

Every fiber of your being ignites. Faith didn't exist in the Hunger Games. Precision. Skill. Wit. Violence. Vigilance. Survival. That's what reigned. That's what would get you through the day. You hated doing it that way, but it had worked in the past. What Finnick was asking you was to basically abandon the protocol. To go against logic and defy the future, pretty much ensuring your demise. Could you trust what he was saying, or were your prior suspicions accurate? Could you use that against him, trick him as well? You just knew this wasn't going to end well, whatever happened. But for now, you'd play pretend.

"I will."

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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loverofallthingsfandom · 6 months

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Fandoms I'll Write For

Marvel (not Iron Man, Starlord, Loki, Thor, Doctor Strange, or Hawkeye, Drax, Victor Creed, Antman, Adam Warlocke, AG's Spiderman, or Cyclops)

DCEU (not Peacemaker, Killer Croc, JL's Joker, RP's Batman, or anyone from Gotham except Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska)

Scream Queens (not Chad Radwell or Pete Martinez)

American Horror Story (only Murder House, 1984, Freakshow, and Cult)

Hunger Games (not Gale, Maymitch, President Snow, or Cato)

The Maze Runner (not Ava Paige, Jorge, or Janson)

My Little Pony

Once Upon A Time (not Hook, David, Rumple, Neal, Peter Pan, or Zelena)

Pacific Rim (not the sequel)

Twilight (not Seth, Edward, Carlyle, or Jasper)

Stranger Things (not Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, or Jim Hopper)

IT (2017, 2019, and tv series) (not Henry Bowers or Pennywise)

Jurassic Park/World (not Owen Grady or Ian Malcolm)

Jumanji (1997 & 2017)

Zathura (not the dad or robot)

Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill)

Girl, Interrupted (not Jared Leto's character)

The Black Phone (not the Grabber or Mr. Blake)

Teen Wolf (the film & series)

Equestria Girls

Teen Wolf (not Peter, Jackson, Theo, or Derek)

The Office (not Jim, Ryan, or Dwight)

Now You See Me (not Dylan Rhodes or Merritt McKinney)

Descendants (not Chad, Harry, Ben, Jay, or Carlos)

Sky High (not Zach or Speed)

Percy Jackson films (not Luke Castellan)

The Umbrella Academy (not Five)

TMNT (live action ver. only)

Dance Moms (not the final season)

Ender's Game

Wednesday (not Xavier, Tyler, or the Dean)

Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse (not Mentor Peter Parker)

Unbreakable (not Hedwig or Dennis)

Big Hero 6

The Black Mirror

Dynasty (not Culhane, Adam, or Blake)

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Spy Kids

Sharkboy & Lavagirl

Clue, Knives Out, & Glass Onion

Back to the Future (not Biff), Breakfast Club (not Bender), Sandlot, Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill), Might Ducks, The Outsiders (not Dally, Two-Bit, Randy, Bob, Steve, or Darry)

I’m willing to write imagines for underage characters so long as there's no romance (examples: hang out with the Losers Club at the barrens; go shopping with Eleven and Max; play baseball with Finney and Bruce). I’m allowed to deny any request and the longest I should take ever to write one is about 2 weeks. I’ll write smut, fluff, angst, poly relationships, LGBTQ+, etc. Generally most of my x readers are female unless stated otherwise.

What I won’t write-

I won’t write anything to do with rape, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, romance with anyone younger than 18, gun play, anything about poo(sexually), anything about urine(squirting is fine considering it’s not technically urine), age gaps. See guidelines for more details.

Thanks for reading❤️

A.A. Walker

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loverofallthingsfandom · 6 months

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You mentioned using playlists to inspire writing... any song recs? Pref with autumn vibes? 🍂

Thanks for your query!

Song recommendations for writing are a breeze. Some of my best writing has come from listening to tunes 🎶. Music has the word 'muse' in it for a reason, I suppose. My taste is versatile: alt pop, pop punk, party pop, y2k bangers, 80s classics, hard rock, musical numbers, grunge, ballroom, folklore, rap... the list really is endless.

[ ~ that i call my own ~ ]

My current WIP is fantasy, philosophy, and fiction, so there are a lot of whimsical + adveturous + sad but motivational bops on my playlist. Perfect to close out 2023's autumn. 🍂

Without further ado, here are my song recommendations for any starting writer!

Soldier, Poet, King by The Oh Hellos

Off to See the World by Lukas Graham

Warrior by Chloe x Halle

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men

On Our Way by Royal Concept

Love Me Not by Whitney Woerz

Shine Your Way by Owl City ft Yuna

Hideaway by Karen O

Exploration by Bruno Coulais

Glitter by Benee

Runaway by Aurora

Kids by OneRepublic

The Greatest by Sia ft Kendrick Lamar

Run Boy Run by Woodkid

Still Don’t Know My Name by Labrinth

Pompeii by Bastille

Find Me by Sigma ft Birdy

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

Night Changes by One Direction

Story of My Life by One Direction

My Future by Billie Eilish

Graveyard by Halsey

Campus by Vampire Weekend

Want to Learn More About Writing?

Follow me here (theaawalker)

...On Instagram (_.sincerelyme._)

...On Twitter (theaawalker)

...Or Tiktok (@.the.aa.walker)

I post my fandom imagines, too. Check out my masterlister (pinned), and my latest one here.

Did I mention I'm publishing a book soon?! If you're interested in YA fantasy, fiction, and philosophy, then see my website, newsletter, or email me at [email protected] for updates.

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loverofallthingsfandom · 6 months

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| -> my dear colleagues...

Thank you for all the likes, reposts, follows, and love. I'm at 15 followers right now... with a 2-week old account. We did it, besties! Let's see if we can get to 50 before the year is over. Also... I've been really busy this past week. I got LOoOoOoOts of stuff on the way. I'm talking smut imagines, book edits, and writing tips (cause my inbox is filling up). Get excited!!! >0< PS: Should I give my followers a name? "Followers" sounds culty... do you all wants a name? Like the Barbz or smth? Lemme know, via comment of dm! Love ya!

STAY SWEET! <3

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loverofallthingsfandom · 6 months

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| -> my dear colleagues...

STAY SWEET! <3

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loverofallthingsfandom · 7 months

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My Writeblr Intro

Hey, I'm A.A. Walker! I'm 19 and live in southeast America. I've been into writing and fandom stuff since I was 8 years old. I have situational anxiety so it's been a battle to actually put out what I've written. I've had my work copied in the past, but thanks to my legal rep that's no longer a concern. I work at B&N and I'm in college studying psychology.

I read philosophy, fantasy, YA, biographies, and the occasional horror (the older, the better). I write philosophy, fantasy, and YA, and am revising a book series as we speak. Most of my imagines (masterlist) were pre-written by teen-me but never posted. I'm on TikTok (𝚊esthetic.𝚊uthor), Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, and I have a profile on NaNoWriMo. This blog is for posting imagines, sharing author tips, and promoting my upcoming book.

In 2019, I survived something that left me traumatized for life. Then, in 2020, it happened again. I've only recently decided to get back into what I love: reading/writing worlds that bend imagination. And I'd love for you to come along for the journey! 🌎 ❤️ 📚

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loverofallthingsfandom · 7 months

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Delusional | Lex Luthor x Fem!OC [1-Shot]

Pairing: Lex Luthor x Rose Holloway Song Inspo: Delusional by Simon Curtis Word Count: 2,433 Summary: desperate to get out under her tyrannic mother's corporative thumb, executive secretary Rose Holloway submits an application for an opening at LexCorp. Much to her surprise, she is asked to interview the next week. The pay is pretty good, and this Lex guy couldn't be as awful as her mother. What could go wrong? Warnings: mild mentions of parental abuse Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Last thing I remember from my dream was having to tell my angry mother the news about my job. That was enough to get me awake. I scrambled around in my covers and opened my eyes, squirting as the light from the curtains hit my face. At first, I just closed my eyes to block them from the sunlight. But then I realized it was morning, and I forgot to set my alarm last night! I was going to be late on the first day!

I pushed my covers off my body and climbed out of bed, ignoring my slippers that awaited my feet. I looked at my alarm clock, and, as if taunting me, it read 12:21 PM. I grabbed my already ready work attire and took a quick shower. I put on my clothes, did my hair, applied some makeup (not too much, because I don't wanna look as desperate as I was), and brushed my teeth. Into my mall closet I went, searching for some shoes to go with my outfit.

I did my best to fix myself a nutritious breakfast. Nutty bars seemed like the way to go, but they get stuck in my teeth. The last thing I wanted was to be humiliated on my first day - I hadn't felt like that since high school. I managed to make due with a glass of orange juice; just when I put the cold glass to my mouth, a car honked outside. I groaned to myself, knowing who it was, "Mom."

Rushing out the house, I barely remembered to lock the door. I hadn't told my mom about my application for LexCorp, so I knew she was gonna drive to her building instead. That meant I had to somehow sneak past her and make it to LexCorp in time. It's not that far... I hope.

I swung my business bag around my shoulder and got to the car. Only it wasn't my mom's car. It was... nicer and more modern. The windows were tented so I had no idea who was inside. I didn't know what to do, so I sorta stepped back. The window suddenly rolled down, revealing a face I had known for my whole life.

"Mary!" I squealed with delight, and relief.

"Get in." She ordered. "Or you're gonna be late." I had told her about my application. Well, I told her not to tell our mom about the application. "I can't thank you enough, Mare Bear." I said as I hopped into the nice vehicle. Mary looked at me as she took the wheel.

"You can start by not calling me Mare Bear, Nose." I had to smile at that. She and I call each other cute names sometimes. She calls me nose because, apart from my lips, my nose is my most dominant feature.

"Hang on, little sister." She said, pulling out of my driveway. "LexCorp, here we come."

(Time Skip - At LexCorp Parking)

Butterflies fluttered in my thin stomach as we approached my future workplace. It was so weird; seeing it on the computer was one thing, but being there was another. The building looked so full of purity, energy, and technology. I started to wonder if I could really help improve it. I mean, I wasn't anything more than a secretary of a fashion magazine editor. Also, I had no idea if they'd even accept me. I knew that my mom would hire me because she knew me, but this Lex Luthor probably didn't even know I existed until last week.

"Well, here we are. LexCorp Industries." Mary gave an introduction. I released the sigh I'd been holding in since we pulled up. "Aren't you going in, or...?"

"What if I'm not good enough, Mary?" I blurted out my worry. Mary gave me an eye roll and held my shoulder. "Look. These guys may have worked here longer than you but that doesn't make them better. For all you know, by this time tomorrow you could be doing all their jobs. Besides, any treatment you get is better than mom's." She had such a good point. It was either this or back to being paid to be yelled at by your mom.

"Okay," I finally said, "I'll-I'll do it." She gave me a nod, and I nodded in returned. We leaned in for a hug, and she wished me luck one last time. I bet was gonna need it. I can't focus when I'm nervous, and when I can't focus I screw things up. But there was no way I was spending another day at that fashion hell. So I picked my bag up and got out of the car.

Mary waved at me as she drove off. I waited until she was out of sight, and slowly spun around to face the building again. It looked so massive and complex. This may sound weird, but it kind of terrified me. I shook if out though, and marched toward it with a high head.

Inside was not much different than the outside. People were scattered everywhere, and they all looked worthy of being there. One lady walked past me wearing all black with the coolest haircut. I touched my rough, brown hair to find it a plain straight. I never thought I'd say this but I wish I had a rubber band right about now. The place wasn't crowded, but it was far from being empty.

I looked around for any clue to where Lex's office was. I had an interview with him in ten minutes and I couldn't even find him. I decided to ask one of the employees. I walked further into the work hall until I saw something out of the ordinary. There, in the middle of the room, about six men were playing basketball. I tried to process an excuse for what I was seeing. 'Maybe they're testing their body maneuvers for a video game?' was all I could think of.

Basketball or not, they didn't look as intimidating as everyone else. So I walked up to the court and tapped on the shoulder of closest one, who appeared to be in the middle of shooting.

I cleared my throat.

"Excuse me." He turned and smiled at me. He had strawberry-blonde locks that curled by his jawline. His eyes were blue and playful, and reminded me of two blue balls. He was shorter than me, but only by about an inch. "Sorry to interrupt your game, but I was wondering if you knew where Lex Luthor's office is." He gave me and odd smile.

"Hm. You must my new secretary. How are you? Lex Luthor. Welcome to my little LexCorp." The man held out his hand to me. I looked at it, and, ever so hesitantly, shook it.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked. "You're Lex Luthor?" He odd smile turned into a cheeky one as he giggled.

"Indeed I am. Alexander Luthor Jr., in your presence." He said, slight bowing his head. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't confused. He looked so young, way too young to be running a business. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. You look so..."

"Young? Well..." he turned away for a second to throw the through the hoop. "Age is just a number, correct? And there are infinite numbers to compare to mine, so there's no use in trying to be any other."

I just looked from him to the net and swallowed. "I guess that sounds right."

"Great! Hm. Yes, yes. You are here for the job." He said, eyes darting down in remembrance. "Executive secretary if I recall." Before I knew it he had his hand on my shoulder blade, and we began walking down the hall to I-have-no-idea-where. But I simply nodded and played along.

"Um, yeah. I used to work as one at my old job."

"Old job, mm? Might I ask where?" I didn't bother looking at him to answer, I just kept my head forward. And judging by my sight, we were headed for an escalator. "Nowhere special. Just a stupid fashion magazine corporation." I scratched my forehead as we boarded the escalator. I let Lex go first, being as though I had no idea where to go beyond the escalator. The rising staircase made my body feel like it was lifting by itself.

"I see," Lex said. "That explains your chose of clothing décor. Anyway, tell me- Wait! Silly me. I forgot to request your name." He addressed, stepping off his step and placing his foot on the smooth, white tile floor. I copied his movement and we returned to our original pace.

The hallway was all white, and filled with white doors. Any one of those could be mine. All I had to do was get an interview with Lex. First, we had to get to his office.

"My name's Rose. Rose Lee Holloway." I offered a kind smile, one which was returned.

"Rose. Hm." His eyes darted up in thought. "The Latin origin of rose, a flower name from Rosa." He looked back at me. "Did you know the Normans brought Latin to Britain in the 11th century?"

I shook my head. Lex just put his hands in his pockets and stared ahead. "Are you interested in alien studies and research?"

"Um, no. Only what I read on the news about Superman. But do find the fact that one is living here funny."

This made Lex chuckle. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, an alien protecting a species that's not his own just makes us look inferior. Why should we rely on a humanoid destructor rather than weapons of defense? It just sounds dumb."

Lex snapped his finger and pointed at me. "Exactly, Rosie. May I call you Rosie?" 'If I get this job he can call me anything he wants.' I thought.

But I simply replied, "If you want."

We reached the end of the hallway, where, to our right, sat a giant silver door.

"Follow me." Lex led us down the pathway and opened the giant door for me. "In you go." I slipped past him and almost tripped when I saw Lex's office. That place was like two master bedrooms in one giant space. There were chairs in there I've never seen in my life! And that's saying something since my mom used redecorated our living room almost every year.

I was so in shock that I didn't even notice Lex walk past me to his desk chair. I strolled to the front of his desk and sat in small chair, where Lex was seated on the table. He grinned at me, making me even more nervous. We both knew what was about to happen.

"Humor me. What got you interested in this position?"

"I've had previous experience with executive assistance, such as memoing, filing, answering phone calls, and prepping schedules. I also dabble in digital art, so if you need any promo or posters, well, I'm your gal." I chuckled nervously, and he just stroked his chin. "Ahem. I admire what this company has done for the ecosystem repair in other countries. Between partnering with other green companies and philanthropy fundraisers, it- you have really great work." Then it got quiet. "...yeah."

Lex leaned forward, knuckling his silvery desk's edge, and looked into my soul. He studied every inch of my face, my eyes... my soul. It was like he was trying to read my mind. When he got his answer, he exhaled.

"Hm." His lips twitched. "Hm-mm, yes. You have the gaze of a woman on the run." Lex said softly, almost sorrowful, like a therapist. "A lioness, mm, trying to strike out of the pride, make it on her own. Tell me, dear Rosie, who-oh-who are you running from?"

My head drew back and I nearly gulped. Was this man actually telepathic? Either way, he seemed to have me figured out. There was no use in denying it further. If honesty got me a job, then honesty it'll be. I just wish it wasn't such a sore subject.

"My mother." My tongue suddenly tasted foul and acidic. "She's not a very nice mother. Or boss."

"Mommy issues," Lex gestured to me, "meet daddy issues," he gestured to himself, making us both chuckle weakly. I supposed it made sense, hurt child meets hurt child. I wondered to what extend his father hurt him, but put off the question as taboo for an interview.

"Anyhow," he leaned back and continued, "mind if I ask you some professional questions?" He asked, making a yuck face as the word 'professional'.

"Yes, go ahead." I straightened my posture.

"Alrighty. How did you like the building so far?" That was not the question I expected him to ask first, but it was his company. 'Get hired, Rose, get hired.' I cheered myself on.

"Ummm... It's very detailed and finely organized, Mr. Luthor. It's techy but also really chill. Just feels like a good environment people-wise." If my resume didn't cut it maybe sucking up to him would. But he just waved it off.

"Please, call me Lex. It's only fair since I'm calling you Rosie." He had a point. "But does it look like the kind of place you want to work at?"

I looked around the spacious, flawless, white room and sighed. Such a long way from that undersized, secretary desk my mom forced me in.

My pitiful eyes found Lex again. "Very much."

Out of nowhere, Lex suddenly clapped near my face. "Fantastic! Then congratulations, Ms. Rosie. You're hired!" I had to clear my ears to make sure I heard him right.

"Wait, what? I'm hired?" He just nodded like an excited child. "But what about the interview?" I asked, still not understanding his reasons behind hiring me. He bent from his spot on the table to open up a drawer beside his legs.

"That was the interview, my dear Rosie. It began from I first introduced myself." He then pulled something out of the drawer; a red cylinder candy, and offered it to me. "Jolly Rancher?" I gave a clearly puzzled look, raising my eyebrow. "It's cherry." He offered again.

With nothing to lose except my job there, I accepted.

"Okay." I smiled tightly.

But instead of handing it to me, Lex leaned in to put it in my mouth himself. For a second, I felt his cold, steel fingers brush on the tip of my lips before departing. Then he licked those fingers and smiled from ear to ear like nothing happened.

Being the kind person I am, I gave the smile back. He might have been a bit odd, but I had a feeling Lex was gonna grow on me.

#lex luthor#dc#bvs#imagine#imagines#DC imagines#dc imagine#lex luthor imagine#lex luthor x reader#lex x reader#lex imagine#bvs imagine#batman vs superman#reader insert#reader#xreader#fandom#multifandom#request

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loverofallthingsfandom · 7 months

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My Writeblr Intro

I read philosophy, fantasy, YA, biographies, and the occasional horror (the older, the better). I write philosophy, fantasy, and YA, and am revising a book series as we speak. Most of my imagines were pre-written by teen-me but never posted. I'm on TikTok (𝚊esthetic.𝚊uthor), Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, and I have a profile on NaNoWriMo. This blog is for posting imagines, sharing author tips, and promoting my upcoming book.

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loverofallthingsfandom · 7 months

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Character tropes are a writer's bread and butter, for better or worse. Because of this, it can be easy for your characters to be mistaken, copied, and boxed in with others. Especially in this industry, it's important to stand out. What’s the difference between a flat character and a well-rounded character? How do writers bring a character to life on the page? When it comes to character development, these are central questions—especially when it comes to using character tropes...

[ ~ a world that's waiting up for me ~ ]

What Are Character Tropes?

The word “trope” refers to a common motif or pattern in a work of art. In the context of fiction, character tropes refer to common attributes or even entire stock characters. The word trope comes from the Greek word 'tropos' meaning “to turn.” Originally it referred to rhetorical devices that a writer uses to develop an argument. Character tropes can be useful in fiction, but when overused, they can detract from a story.

Common Character Tropes

Every genre of storytelling has its own stable of common character types, and as a storyteller it’s worth being aware of them. Here are nine of the most common:

1. The chosen one: The chosen one is a common fantasy trope. Their identity typically revolves around a task that’s been set aside for them, which they typically pursue without much hesitation or complication. Like Frodo Baggins, Luke Skywalker, and Harry Potter, the chosen one is often, conveniently, an orphan.

2. The damsel in distress: One of the most common and pernicious types of female character tropes, the damsel in distress, whatever form she takes, is a passive figure who exists mostly as an object for the hero to save. Even versions of the character who turn out to be a little more plucky than expected (think Princess Fiona from Shrek or Princess Leia from Star Wars) have become their own subset of this creaky old trope.

3. The femme fatale: A mysterious and seductive woman who uses her sex appeal to seduce and entrap her enemies, the femme fatale is a popular character trope in hardboiled mysteries. In many ways, the femme fatale is an updated version of supernatural witches or sorceresses. It’s no spoiler to say that she nearly always leads men to destruction. Sharon Stone, Uma Thurman, and Eartha Kitt are the queens of this trope. <3

4. The girl next door: The small-town girl with a heart of gold is, in many ways the opposite of the femme fatale. A common film and TV trope, the girl next door is innocent, kind, and wholesome. In other words, she’s the embodiment of domestic femininity and typically a candidate for the male protagonist’s love interest. Take Mary Jane Watson for instance.

5. The mad scientist: Going back to Dr. Frankenstein (or any number of sorcerer antecedents), the mad scientist is usually a villain, driven by an eccentric, antisocial personality and unrestrained hubris or a desire to play god. The mad scientist’s benign counterpart is the nerdy “absent-minded professor” who’s so engrossed by their work that they struggle to relate to “normal people.”

6. The trusty sidekick: Like the damsel in distress, the trusty sidekick typically has no life outside their relationship to the main character and their quest. Whether the sidekick is a loyal companion, like Samwise in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, a faithful butler, or a chatty best friend—as in any number of romance novels—their main quality is that they have no story of their own.

7. The wise old man: Sometimes an actual wizard, sometimes just an old guy who’s seen his share, the wise old man is a long-enduring stock figure who usually imparts some special wisdom to the protagonist. Dumbledore, Master Oogway, Gandalf, and Master Miyagi.

8. The dumb muscle: Based on the idea that it’s impossible to be smart and fit at the same time, the dumb muscle is an exceedingly common minor character, especially in action and adventure stories. As a bad guy the dumb muscle is easily outsmarted or otherwise bested by the main character. X-Men's Juggernaut is a prime example.

9. The antihero: Antiheroes are typically cynical loners with major personality flaws, often darkly appealing bad boys. Like normal heroes, the antihero still drives the story, but often to a more amoral place. Tony Soprano, Red Arrow, Emma Frost, and the grittier versions of Batman are all prime examples of modern antiheroes. These days, antiheroes are almost as common as idealized heroes.

5 Tips for Avoiding Character Tropes

Character tropes aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. In some types of fiction, especially epics, satires, and more plot-driven forms of fiction, the use of stock characters can be expected and even desirable. The problem is when writers lean so heavily on these tropes that they’re no longer telling an original story. This is the point where archetypal characters can bleed into stereotypes. In order to avoid (or at least complicate) character tropes, you’ll need to develop a richer sense of your characters. Here are a few tips:

1. Figure out what your characters really want. One reason writers lean on stereotypes is because they don’t know their characters well enough. Instead of playing to type, spend some time figuring out what really motivates your characters. Are they driven by a need to belong? By a thirst for knowledge? By a desire to be recognized? These super-objectives may lead your characters to buck their outward roles in interesting ways.

2. Look for opportunities to subvert tropes. If you find yourself drawn to certain tropes, look for ways to undermine them. While this sort of self-conscious style may not be right for every story, it can be especially compelling in the context of genres that traditionally rely on tropes: think fantasy novels, horror movies, love stories, westerns, and other popular genres.

3. Get to know your characters outside the story. A common writing exercise is to develop backstories for your major characters. Imagine them in real life. Ask yourself questions about your characters, like: What was this person like in high school? What objects are on their nightstand? How do they get along with their families? While seemingly inconsequential, these questions can help you get a sense of the individuality of your characters, rather than just thinking of them as adhering to a common type.

4. Allow your characters’ personalities to change. Again, there are types of stories where characters may remain static, but in general, it’s important for readers to feel like your character changes (or at least has the potential to change) over the course of the story. Remember, the change need not always be positive, but there should be some sense that the experience they’ve had has marked them in some way.

5. Avoid clichéd situations. Sometimes the issue isn’t with the characters you’ve developed but the scenario in which you’ve placed them. If you’ve created a pair of star-crossed lovers who are meant to fall for one another at first sight, it’ll be hard not to make the situation feel hackneyed—no matter how well-drawn your lovers are. If you’re only thinking in terms of common plot tropes, it may be hard to get your characters out of them. If you’re working in a science fiction or fantasy setting, this is where worldbuilding might help you find more interesting angles to explore.

Want to Learn More About Writing? Follow me here (theaawalker) ...On Instagram (_.sincerelyme._) ...On Twitter (theaawalker) ...Or Tiktok (@.slideshow.central.) I post my fandom imagines, too. Check out my latest one here. Did I mention I'm publishing a book soon?! If you're interested in YA fantasy, fiction, and philosophy, then see my website, newsletter, or email me at [email protected] for updates.

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loverofallthingsfandom · 7 months

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Any advice for writer's block?

Thank you for your query!

Curing writer's block is no small task. The reason being is the idea is a myth. 'Cure' is defined by an infinite remedy to a recurring ailment. Sadly, there is no 'cure' this author ailment. But there are concoctions, so to speak...

[ ~ i close my eyes and i can see ~ ]

Eliminate distractions Limit your intake of anything that doesn't feed your writing spirit, be it scrolling through TikTok or watching reality TV. These external variables fuel your writer's block like a stack of papers. It piles, piles, and piles the more you purchase paper. Granted, that metaphorical paper stack can be used to write on, but it takes you to fill those blank sheets. Revisit your writing inspo's Go back to the thing that made you love writing. For 8-year-old me, it started as an outlet for trauma. Soon, it grew into something more, courtesy of My Little Pony, X-Men, Narnia, The Avengers, Rise of the Guardians, The Outsiders, and Disney classics. Read other people's work Growing up, I was an avid reader. I read anything I could ingest, from Jelsa fanfiction to 13 Reasons Why. As of today, I read a book every two weeks. If you wanna know how, ask me here. Read your own work If you have previous work, go back and read that. It could be your diary, school essays, or (if you're a wattpad or quotev girlie) online publications. If you don't have previous work, cautiously read your current work-in-progress. Give yourself grace and remember it's called a work-in-progress for a reason. Imitate your heroes Personally, I study work by authors such as J.R.R. Tolkien, Anne Lamott, C.S. Lewis, Lemony Snicket, James Dashner, and S.E. Hinton. I don't consider any of them my heroes, but they are undeniable trailblazers. As such, I follow their methods and styles, but will pave my own route to success. I will be legend like them, and this is my "day one". Write in pieces Don't write 1k per day. That's a good day's count, but should not be the norm. Have a word count goal that's calculated by your ideal page count. For example, my goal is 300 pages, so my word count goal is 90k. I write 300 words per day; as you can see, it's aligned with my page goal. If yours is 250 pages, that's your daily word goal. Follow an outline THIS IS IMPORTANT! Please outline your work before you begin writing. Preferably, this would be between the planning phase and writing phase. The brainstorm is over, now you can write chronological plot-lines (divided either by chapters or start, middle, and end). IF YOU'VE ALREADY STARTED WRITING, outline wherever you left off and go to the end. Here is an example: [the ogre, Shrek, spends his day at swamp] [come night, hunters come for him to scare] [he runs into a donkey begrudgingly befriends him] [creatures invade his swamp; cause: lord farquade] [shrek and donkey confront him and strike a deal] [shrek goes to rescue a princess for the lord in exchange for his swamp back] [they venture back to the lord's castle, and end up falling in love, 1-3 chapters] [the princess, fiona, is also an ogre] [shrek and fiona have a spat] [the lord retrieves her and shrek goes home] [donkey convinces him to invade the wedding] [shrek confesses his love for her] [they live happily every after]. Feel free to expand your outline as you write on. Write now, edit later Summarize if you must, just get it done. Write whatever your heart desires. For me, I wrestle with over-description and lengthy sentences, so I'll take my advice too lol. And you know what? That's perfectly fine. I can shorten, i.e. edit, anything later. For now, just let it all pour out and enjoy it. Make a playlist to fully immerse yourself in your imaginary world. Writing should be a fun, magical experience, and being self-critical ruins that. So, to summarize, keep calm, make it fun, and edit when the story's complete.

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loverofallthingsfandom · 9 months

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(via Bet You Cant Name These Celebrity (Y2K Edition)) #y2k #celebrities #celebrity #y2kcelebrities #trending #200s #celebrity #popculture #namethis

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loverofallthingsfandom · 9 months

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Euphoria or The Idol?

#euphoria #euphoria fanfic #euphoria hbo #the idol #the idol hbo #the idol review

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loverofallthingsfandom · 10 months

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GAYS IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM - THE OFFICE

The Scranton branch has officially absorbed the Stamford branch, and as a show of good faith, Michael calls everyone into the conference room to explain why [Oscar] being gay is okay.

WC: 734 words

Song Inspo: I Can See You by T. Swift

The staff were sitting in the conference room. A beige table was set up in the center with tan chairs inside it and around it by the three, beige walls. The fourth wall had a whiteboard, inches apart from the open door. The gray carpet was well-vacuumed and the white window shades were shut. Self-explanatory, the room made for an exciting meeting.

"Oscar is a good person." Michael spoke as he paced in front of the whiteboard. "You know, it should've matter if he's gaaayy or normal," Jim side-eyed the camera, "he's a human being, man. I...," Michael sighed and grabbed his hips, "I just don't understand how people could be so hateful."

"Michael," Kevin's deep voice rose from somewhere behind Karen. "We don't hate Oscar because he's gay... At least, not all of us." The large man mischievously glanced at Angela.

"Hmph." Angela crossed her arms, Bible in hand. "I don't support that lifestyle. It's impure, ungodly, unsanitary..."

"Unprotected- that's what he said!" Michael chuckled then caught himself. "No. No! I meant that as in unprotected because they are unprotected in this country. So anything you took from that is anti-gay. Case closed."

Dwight nodded along and took notes. Andy stroked his protruded chin and squinted with pretend intrigue. Stanley did his crossword puzzles in the far-left corner. Meredith's mouth hung agape and her eyes were red, clear signs of early intoxication. Pam looked uncomfortable between Karen and Jim but said nothing. Jim condescendingly smiled and did routine stares at the camera. Erin sat closest to Michael and the door, in clear view of Karen. While Michael went back-and-forth with Angela, Karen watched Erin doodle in her notepad. Fillipeli's cheek found her shoulder and her eyes found a tranquil lowness. Amongst all the speel and chaos, nothing seemed to matter then.

"-I refuse to give my American right to practice religion. Seriously. Whatever happened to freedom of speech? My first amendmant right-"

"Second." Dwight coughed.

Angela eyed him then returned to Michael. "If you can't afford me that right, I'll just have to pray for you." She smirked and patted her Bible.

Phyllis looked at her with terror and sadness, having the displeasure of sitting right next to the blonde woman.

"Can I ask," Karen turned around to her, "what type of Christian are you?"

"Excuse me?" Angela raised a brow.

"Catholic? Mormon? Jehovah witness? Baptist? Born-again?" Karen listed off the sects.

"I'm a devote Christian, old testament." She specified, enunciating the last part. She looked around the room with a finger up, as if expecting someone to oppose her.

"I grew up Catholic. Read the Bible every Christmas."

Angela smiled a bit, then cleared her throat, lifted her chin, looked at the floor, and raised a brow. "Favorite passage?"

"Easily Psalms 139:7." Karen scoffed. "Arguably the best passage, aside from Leviticus and Luke, of course."

Angela pouted a smile, almost holding back delight and disdain for not needing to correct Karen.

"Wow, Karen, I never pegged you for a Bible thumper." Kelly stated what the room was thinking.

"That's because sinful women like you wouldn't know a real holy woman from your left elbow, Kelly." Angela spat at her, making the Indian woman gasp.

"Ryan!" Kelly called for her boyfriend's aid, but he just shrugged.

"Invite Oscar back if you want. Invite the AID's epidemic right along with him. I don't care anymore." Angela shrugged. "As long as I have this," she held up her Bible, "and my undeniable faith, I'm safe."

"From gay people?" Jim replied. "You think the book wards off gay people?"

"I do." Angela said matter-of-factly.

"What'll happen if I say I'm gay and I touch it?" Kevin asked on top of his question. "I'm not." He addressed the room. "But it'd be funny if I was, right?" He laughed throatily.

"You'd burst into flames." Dwight answered.

"Not accurate." Andy counteracted.

"Oh, how do you know, Cornell?" Dwight looked him up and down.

"Can I see it?" Karen cut him off. "It's been so long since I've held one that wasn't mine."

"Sure, Karen. I trust my fellow God warriors." Angela sneered at Jim as she outreached her black little book to Karen. Granted, this was Angela, so she never let go, but Karen did stroke it's cover.

"Whoa. Leather. Very nice." Karen complimented her.

The scene cut to Karen's interview.

"I'm also a lesbian."