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Hii could u do one where the hero and civilian are friends (both female) they go out to a bar and villain (male) is there and he comes over to them to ask for a dance and the hero thinks he's asking hero but he's actually asking civilian, and civilian wants to yes but thinks he's joking or she doesn't want to break the "friendship code" (whichever option u prefer) but the hero actually encourages it.
Just a little something I think about
If u understand what I'm saying
The Matchmaker
Warnings: Slightly flirty. Soft romance. Mentions of alcohol.
"You are coming with me, Civi, like it or not," Hero claimed earlier that day, when they were still in Hero's apartment as the crime-fighter ransacked her own wardrobe, throwing dresses out onto the floor because there was no place on her bed anymore. "Where is that thing?!" She groaned, in search of something that seemed to be evading her.
Civilian sighed - not angry, just exasperated with her persistent friend. Don't get her wrong, she loved Hero with the entirety of her pure heart, but partying was never her go-to activity on a Friday night. It was reading. Baking. Crocheting. Anything on this Earth except for clubs and dancing. She felt awkward in any remotely public setting, let alone in a club or a bar where people go to socialise. Deliberately. Ugh.
Why would one do that? Civilian couldn't tell you.
"Hero, pleease-" She started with a whiny voice and her best pleading-for-mercy expression, but Hero interrupted her with a definitive no.
"No. No exceptions. It's my birthday, you owe me that much," Hero had insisted, earning a pitiful whimper from Civilian who already knew she could not refuse her best friend - on her birthday, no less. âToday has to be a good day for both of us.â
Hero grinned, satisfied with her victory, but then her eyes landed on the dress she had been looking for, and she emerged from the wardrobe with a victorious yelp. "Aha! Found it. Now, come on, put something decent on."
She aimed the dress at Civilian's head and earned a very improper gesture in response, but laughed it off. Today had to be fun; she didn't care if it took blackmail, manipulation, or outright forcing Civilian out of the comfort of her (or Hero's) apartment.
The bar was packed beyond belief. Or so Civilian thought, because there were about fifteen other people there, and that was too much. Hero had scoffed at her displeased demeanour the moment they had walked in and chose to ignore the tiny, frustrated sighs her friend let out every now and then. As if the crowd wasn't enough, Hero had put her into an outrageous dress (above knee length) and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, leaving Civilian feeling vulnerable and... alright, maybe she blushed when Hero called her effortlessly hot, and she might have liked the idea of being attractive, but it still felt like she was trying too hard. Hero called her ridiculous for considering a cocktail dress "too much", but given that Hero was wearing a sequin jumpsuit, Civilian thought she had no say in the ridiculousness domain.
They were about an hour into the celebration of Hero's year around the sun (read: five shots for Hero and an already-warm Aperol Spritz for Civilian in) when the atmosphere in the bar shifted. They didn't immediately see who came in, but even the usually oblivious Civilian sensed a change in the ambience of the place. Everyone seemed to be quiet; even the music sounded toned down. Then came the looming figure of Villain, wearing a black suit (not the place, dude!) and his signature cocky smirk. Hero's nemesis, the resident criminal, pain-in-the-ass, call him whatever.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday girl," he drawled behind Civilian's back, making the hair on her neck stand. He was staring Hero down, but she didn't even twitch, smiling the same self-assured smile she always wore. "Celebrating your royal highness?"
Hero chuckled. Confident, bold, carrying herself with dignity in every situation - be it battle or a night at a bar. Civilian mumbled somewhat of a confirmation.
"Congratulations," Villain clinked his glass to hers, then to Civilian's leaning over her shoulder, causing her to squeak in surprise. He raised an eyebrow at that, his gaze lingering for a moment before he left, disappearing in the growing crowd. Civilian exhaled, her hands trembling slightly, and took a big gulp of the drink she was still nursing.
It wasn't until later, when the music was loud enough to dance, that Villain reappeared, swaying to the rhythm as he approached. Hero narrowed her eyes at him the second he stepped into her view. They were still seated because Civilian refused to dance while the lights were still on, claiming she felt like people were studying her. And if there was a pair of eyes glued to her with captivated intensity... well, a certain criminal had nothing to do with it.
Villain tilts his head, his gaze flicking over to Civilian nearby, ordering water before he opens his mouth to speak.
"Not. A. Chance. None, Vil," Hero cuts him off before he can even utter a word. Not because she hates him. Because he's like an annoying younger brother in her mind that she has to babysit, so he doesn't mess up the city.
But Villain looks unfazed. He lets out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "Actually, I was wondering if your lovely friend would dance with me." He informs, preventively maintaining a bit of a distance in case Hero goes for an immediate attack.
Except, her eyes don't narrow with suspicion, nor do they widen with sudden rage or offence. They sparkle. With excitement.
"What?" Villain asks, sounding sheepish but utterly adorable (to Hero, otherwise, he's formidable, he swears) at the same time. Hero's face brightens with the widest grin Villain has ever seen on her. What is happening..?
He doesn't manage to finish the thought when Hero claps her hands together. "That is such a great idea! Two of my favourite nuisances together, aww..."
Villain gapes at her excitement, blinking slowly like he has lost the plot entirely.
"But she needs prep," Hero sobers up from her sentimental feelings, turning serious again. Villain still looks confused, so she elaborates. "She's shy and thinks you're a real threat and not just my play partner."
"Excuse you?!" He exclaims, offended beyond belief. "I'm a professional villain!"
"Sure you are, sugar," Hero muses, teasing him for the sake of the blush colouring his ears. "But for our cause, you need to seem noble."
"You stop that," Villain hisses, pointing an accusatory finger at her, but changes his tune once he processes that second sentence. "And tell me more."
When Civilian returns with her bottle of water, Villain is gone, and Hero has a peculiar glint in her eyes. "You know, I'm quite ready to leave," Civilian starts, trying to approach from afar, but Hero sees right through her.
"In your dreams, Civi," she counters, leaning closer. "Have you noticed a certain someone cannot take his eyes off of you since he walked in?" She asks, her tone too coy to be ignored, but Civilian was never that perceptive.
"Hm? Who do you mean?" Civilian glances around, stumbling upon Villain's intent gaze but darting away instantly.
"Mhm. You know who I'm talking about," Hero hums, satisfied with having planted the idea. "You should go dance with him."
"N-no, I- I can't," Civilian objects instantly. Not that Villain isn't attractive - he's gorgeous, quite honestly. Yet she thinks it's inappropriate. Friendship code and his enmity with her best friend aside, it's Hero's birthday. Today should not be about Civilian at all.
"I can't do that," she repeats, attempting to convince both Hero and herself. "And besides, why would he be looking at me?"
"Are you kidding?" Hero crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a disbelieving laugh. Is this girl blind? "Look at him. The guy's drooling."
"Hero!" Civilian can try to protest all she wants, but the way her neck reddens gives away her true feelings. "He's probably just joking... or trying to see if he can get to you through me."
"You take that back!" Hero snaps like Civilian's self-deprecation is offensive on a personal level. Unbeknownst to Civilian, she motions for Villain to come over while she continues laying the ground.
"Hero..." Civilian mutters, voice full of complaint. Hero exhales. Here comes the whine that means 'I want to, but I'm scared and doubting myself'.
She grips Civilian's chin, demanding eye contact. Her expression hardens into unyielding conviction. "Civi, shut up and get up. Now. That's my birthday wish."
Civilian is about to protest again when Villain coughs, gently attracting her attention. Hero shoos her out of her chair before Villain even has the chance to extend his hand. And Civilian has no other choice but to take it, blushing more profusely than Villain Hero winks at him, encouraging him to go on.
Over two hours later, Hero watches them still swaying to the soft music. The bar is empty now, not a soul left behind when Hero nods to the bartender, places her empty glass on the table, and leaves, smiling under her nose as she walks down the empty street.
Today was certainly a good day. For all three of them.
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Masterlist
A/N: Hello darling! Thank you so much for this request, I had so much fun writing it! I hope you will enjoy reading this just as much. This reminded me of my first stories here - a little more on the cute flirty side than suggestive or dark.
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Don't you mean classist Typo, as in discriminating against poor people, and not classicist, the type of academic who studies antiquity in southern Europe?
â§ Broken ribs suck. You donât just âwalk it off.â Breathing hurts. Laughing hurts. Existing hurts. Characters with rib injuries wonât be doing heroic sprints.
â§ Concussions arenât instant naps. Dazed vision, nausea, dizziness, maybe even personality changes, but theyâre not going to collapse neatly like in the movies.
â§ Blood loss is sneaky. Itâs not just about dramatic pools of blood. Itâs dizziness, confusion, and the body getting cold as circulation tanks.
â§ Adrenaline lies. Someone can take a serious injury and not feel it until the fightâs over. That âI didnât realize I was bleeding until laterâ trope? Very real.
⧠Twisted ankles are brutal. One bad step and suddenly running is off the table. Even walking hurts like hell. Perfect way to ground a chase scene.
â§ Burns linger. Even small burns hurt more than most people expect. Blisters, infection risk, constant pain, itâs not just a cool scar later.
â§ Dislocated shoulders = useless arm. Characters canât keep swinging a sword or firing a gun. Theyâre basically fighting one-armed until itâs fixed.
⧠Shock is a thing. Pale skin, trembling, rapid heartbeat, and eventually disorientation. A character might not even realize how bad their wound is.
â§ Stitches arenât magic. Getting sewn up is painful and recovery takes time. Theyâre not instantly battle-ready after a needle and thread.
â§ Scars tell stories. Some fade, some donât. Some stay sensitive forever. Donât forget the aftermath when the wound becomes part of the character.
âwhen theyâre dramatic for no reason. like⊠you could just stab the hero quietly, but no, you needed a monologue, thunder, and a cape swirl. iconic.
âvillains with hobbies. like the warlord who secretly knits socks or the assassin who bakes pies on Sundays. i live for the duality.
âwhen theyâre bad at being evil. they try so hard, but something always slips, the planâs genius until they forget step 3.
âthe petty ones. âyou stepped on my shoes in 2009 so now your kingdom must burn.â i respect the commitment.
âvillains who are polite. âsorry iâm destroying your city, trafficâs a nightmare today.â like⊠thank you??
âones that accidentally make good points. the heroâs sweating because, yeah, actually, capitalism is terrible and the villain might be right.
âwhen theyâre obsessed with the hero but in the most unhinged way. not âiâll kill you,â but âyouâre my nemesis, my muse, my only friend, marry me.â
âvillains who have a favorite outfit. like theyâre about to fight to the death but god forbid you touch the Dramatic Coat.
âthe ones who canât keep a secret. they get so excited about their evil plan they just blurt it out. love a chatty villain.
âwhen theyâre scary but also just a little pathetic. like yes, youâre terrifying, but also you tripped on your own cloak, babe.
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✠People hum or whistle without realizing. Half the time itâs the same tune on loop until someone else points it out.
✠Nervous habits arenât always obvious. Some tap their foot, others pick at labels, twist jewelry, or re-check their phone screen that hasnât lit up.
✠Everyone mispronounces a word. Even smart characters have at least one word theyâve been saying wrong their whole life.
✠Sleep habits are personal. Some sprawl like starfish, some curl into tiny balls, some talk, kick, or even laugh in their sleep.
✠Food quirks add personality. Characters might hate crusts, eat fries before the burger, or insist on separating all the M&Ms by color.
✠People zone out mid-conversation. Not out of rudeness, sometimes their brain just⊠drifts. A perfect chance to show inner thoughts sneaking in.
✠Signature laughs are a thing. Snorts, wheezes, silent shakes, a laugh can tell you as much about a person as their dialogue.
✠Everyone has a âcomfort item.â A ratty hoodie, a chipped mug, an overplayed playlist, something small that makes them feel safe.
✠Body memory is real. Someone might instinctively check their pocket for keys, tug their sleeves down, or crack knuckles without thinking.
✠Little clumsies matter. People spill drinks, drop pens, trip over their own shoes. Perfection is boring, quirks make characters HUMAN.
â§Â Crying isnât pretty. Itâs snot, blotchy faces, gasping for air, and red-rimmed eyes. Forget the single tear rolling down like in Hollywood.
â§Â Anger often hides hurt. People lash out, slam doors, shout, not always because theyâre just mad, but because theyâre covering up fear or pain.
â§Â Shaking is common. Stress dumps adrenaline into the system. Hands tremble, voices break, knees wonât stay steady.
â§Â People go quiet, too. Not all breakdowns are screaming and sobbing. Some are dead silence, staring off, numb responses. Equally devastating.
â§Â Exhaustion hits after. The âpost-breakdown crashâ is real ... headaches, sore eyes, complete emotional hangover. Theyâll want to sleep for hours.
â§Â Words get messy. Rambling, repeating the same sentence, stuttering, saying things they donât mean. Emotions trip over themselves on the way out.
â§Â Breathing changes. Short, shallow breaths, hiccupping gasps, or holding their breath without realizing. Sometimes it even feels like theyâre choking.
â§Â Embarrassment creeps in. Once the wave passes, a lot of people feel ashamed, apologizing or avoiding eye contact. Vulnerability often leaves guilt in its wake.
â§Â Physical pain shows up. Tight chest, stomach aches, tension headaches. Because emotions donât just stay in the mind , the body carries them too.
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Weâve all read her. We may have even written her.
Leather jacket, five knives, endless snark, but no depth.
The FMC whoâs ânot like other girlsâ.
You want a badass FMC? Cool.
But she needs substance, not just cool-girl props.
Hereâs how to keep her dangerous, capable, and not a cardboard cutout.
1. Give her skills, not vague âstrength.â
âShe can fightâ means nothing if we donât know how.
Hand-to-hand combat? Weapons training? Emotional manipulation? Lockpicking? Pick something concrete and show it in action.
Specificity makes her competence believable, and memorable.
2. Let her be wrong.
A flawless FMC is boring as hell.
Give her blind spots. Let her underestimate someone, make a bad call, or get knocked on her ass.
The point isnât to humiliate her, itâs to make her human.
3. Control â Coldness
Your FMC can be emotionally guarded without being a brick wall.
Let her have moments of vulnerability, but make sure she chooses when and with whom.
Power is more interesting when itâs deliberate, not default.
4. Make her dangerous in her way
She doesn't have to copy the MMC's style.
Maybe he's brute force, she's surgical precision.
Play with contrasts, it keeps both characters sharp.
5. Don't make her dominance cosplay.
If she's dominant, let her stay dominant unless she chooses to give it up.
Don't have her crumble at the first sign of male attention, that's not strength, that's a bait-and-switch.
6. Keep the romance from being her entire arc.
She can fall in love with out losing her spine.
Make sure she has goals, motives, and stakes outside the MMC.
If he disappeared, she'd still have a story to live.
TL;DR:
A badass FMC isn't built from a leather jacket and sass.
She's built from capability, consequence, and control that feels earned.
Make her human, make her flawed, and for the love of all things sharp, don't make her entire personality be "I'm not like other girls."
If you liked this check out đ How to Write a MMC Who's Not Just "The Male Version of Your FMC"