#but just like?? it's impossible with his job

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i had 2 requests about babysitting yuuji and they were similar so i did the earlier one i hope its alright. read more!!

“hey, loser, what’s up?”

you smile at the sound of sukuna’s voice, “jus’ reading. what about you?”

you sense him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line at the mention of yet another book you’ve been gushing about.

“‘m still with the old man.” he grumbles, referring to his father, but his tone changes to a more serious one, making you worry, “look, there’s somethin’ i wanna ask you.”

“anything for you, ‘kuna.”

“could you watch yuuji for a couple of hours? jin’s been called from work and i can’t leave the old man alone right now, so…”

“of course! i adore yuuji, y’know that.”

he sighs in relief and chuckles, his fondness seeping through the line, “aren’t you the sweetest little thing? i’ll see you later then.”

“bye, ‘kuna!”

you close your book after bookmarking the page and jump from your bed to prepare and run to sukuna’s place, excited to spend time with his nephew.

jin’s relief when you appear in his doorway, a little out of breath but with a bright beam that matches yuuji’s nonetheless. he quickly gives you a list of things you should remember when watching over the little guy and presses a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads, leaving you a bit flustered and yuuji very happy.

you find it that 5-year old yuuji isn’t that to look after.

he is such a sweet boy; leading you through the house with his chubby fingers snugly wrapped around yours, giving you his big big smile that outshines everyone’s despite missing tooth on the front. he absolutely adores the way you treat him like he and you are on the same level, avoiding hurting him if gets even a little capricious and responding with the same energy he gives off.

yuuji loves to talk a lot, not shying away from anything that comes to his mind, still an unfiltered, naturally unlike his more balanced father and his barely approachable uncle. it’s impossible to be annoyed with him, his innocence and genuine interest in every little thing is so sweet you can’t help the fondness oozing through every word you say to him.

such a helpful boy too; even though he makes a face at the vegetables you put on his plate(jin emphasised on feeding it to him any possible way)he still eats them, distracted by your silly antics. he helps you with the dishes, clumsily drying the plates with his head barely even peeking over the counter. picking up the toys he plays with right after and putting them back in their places. and you can tell that jin, although alone, still does a pretty good job of raising the sweetest boy out of him, which warms your heart.

ruffling the pink tufts of hair on his head, pinching his cheeks lovingly, holding him close as he himself initiates physical contact, always eager to be in your space and accept and give love. throughout the rest of the day you clearly understand that just like falling in love with sukuna it’s just as easy to love little itadori yuuji and you find yourself easily giving in to his charming nature, feeling closer to him and his family than ever before.

when it’s time to go to sleep, he whines a little bit about not being sleepy to which you make a point of reminding him jin’s words(“if you behave extra good today i’ll give you a present, ‘kay?”). he just salutes with the wrong hand and tugs you to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

nestled in the comfort of his bed, with you sitting on your knees by its side, yuuji initiates another conversation, albeit his yawns keep interrupting his minds’ flow.

“d’you think i’ll be like dad and uncle when i grow up?”

your brows raise at the sudden seriousness in the little boy’s tone, “do you wanna be like them, yuuji?”

“of course! they are the coolest!”

you smile at him fondly, stroking the side of his face soothingly, to help him fall asleep faster, “you’ll be even cooler.”

he flashes you his toothless grin once again and closes his eyes.

“night night, yuuji.”

he mumbles something in response and dozes off, clutching his blanket. you kiss his forehead and try to contain another yawn, not even noticing the sleep catching up to you too as you continue gazing at him, lids falling closed a few seconds after.

the silence greeting them while they enter the house makes sukuna frown. jin is still not home, shoes absent from their usual spot, but you’re still there and he can’t help the excitement building up inside of him because he missed you.

he calls your name, yuuji, walking further in, yet still no response. throwing his things on the table in the guest room, sukuna can’t help but observe that his surroundings are neatly cleaned, even more than before. he looks around in the kitchen, knocks in the bathroom, inspects the living room — still no answer. so he decides to check yuuji’s room, maybe you’re playing or something and too distracted to hear him.

the sight that greets him is something new though, stealing the air all the way from his chest as his eyes widen. he slowly steps closer, hissing silently at the annoying squeaky floorboards, and crouches before you. you seem very very uncomfortable in that position, yet the way yuuji’s body is facing yours makes it clear that you were just waiting for the boy to fall asleep and joined him unintentionally. so cute, so warm it melts away the leftover iceberg that is his heart.

his hand caresses your cheek gently before poking it repeatedly, making you stir in your sleep.

“huh? ’kuna?”

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as he lifts you up, “was the little shit good to you?”

“yuuji? he was the sweetest.” you blink at him sleepily, nuzzling deeper into his chest. sukuna can’t help the soft smile that stretches on his lips.

“thank you for the help, baby.”

“anytime, ‘kuna.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

Le gasp..

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs?

Horror likes bashing in heads. He likes that his job means he gets paid to bash in a lot of heads. He doesn't really care that he's considered one of Nightmare's top enforcers, that even the hardest criminals tremble in fear at the mention of his name, that he's called things like the beast and the monster... he just likes that he gets to take out all his worst frustrations on whichever face Nightmare points him to. As a nice bonus, the money he makes means his brother and surviving friends live in safety and comfort.

... But he also likes pretty things. Pretty, soft things, that make him feel fuzzy and warm. You're all three. You find out pretty quick that his frightening face hides a softspoken, sensitive creature, who keeps appearing at your door with flowers (when did you give him your address?) and homemade food. It's bizarre, how such a violent man can equally be so gentle, getting flustered just from you looking at him too long. He wants to do to you what he does with everyone he cares about - use his money to make it so that you never have to worry about anything in life again.

Probably for the best that you let him. He famously doesn't have great control over his temper.

Dust doesn't appear too happy about working for Nightmare. It's clear to anyone watching that Nightmare has something over him; whatever it is, it must be pretty bad, because Dust never questions Nightmare's orders - no matter how terrible or violent. He does exactly what's asked of him, no more, no less. And it's obvious why Nightmare might want to force someone like Dust to work for him... there's no job this silent demon can't do.

Dust, with you, is a different man. He almost becomes his old self again. When you're alone together, he actually smiles. He desperately wants to keep you away from the world he's become trapped in, and he'll probably spend the first few weeks of knowing you trying as hard as he can to separate you from him and the other skeletons. But... he's in love. He can't help it. He's always drawn back to you again, no matter how many times he tells himself he has to let go.

You're his escape. You make him forget the things he's done, and the things he has to keep doing. He's addicted to that feeling.

Killer is Nightmare's right hand. The moniker 'Nightmare's dog' is often used, mostly in an attempt to offend him, but it just makes him laugh. Much like Horror, he very much enjoys his job... he enjoys the power, indulging in his violent desires and getting paid for it. Killer is just about the closest thing Nightmare has to someone he trusts; Killer is privy to many of their 'family's deepest secrets, partly because of his position, but also partly because Nightmare knows Killer genuinely has absolutely zero interest in these massively important secrets. Killer just wants to stab things.

For some reason he seems intent that you trust him. It's really hard to tell what he wants, behind that smile... you're cautious with him, given his clear loyalty to Nightmare. But maybe that loyalty isn't as unshakeable as it seems. It starts with little things... casually lying through his teeth and fully taking the blame for something you did. Conveniently 'forgetting' to mention you around Nightmare. Failing a mission you expressed horror at. Lying about the nature of your personal information, pretending (in front of the guys) that he doesn't know stuff he very much knows.

It's impossible to tell what he wants. But it seems like, whatever it is, he wants it more than all the power he's got now.

Nightmare will obviously want to learn the identity of the person who's somehow managed to completely disarm his three most valuable and violent soldiers. Despite all of them doing their damnedest to keep you out of Nightmare's crosshairs, you can't be hidden forever.

Nightmare is supposed to have everything - there's no luxury he can't afford. But he's always had this... void inside him. It's the very void that pushes him to keep expanding his territory, to keep killing and taking, maybe if he has just that little bit more he'll feel complete. Maybe if he just has that one last shiny thing, he'll be happy. But it's never been enough.

Then he finally meets you. And something clicks.

Dust, Killer and Horror tried so hard to keep you away from Nightmare, because they were terrified of what would happen to you if Nightmare decided he didn't like you. Instead, something much, much worse happened.

Nightmare likes you.

[romanticintheory]

HI I JUST READ YOUR "SIMON BETRAY YOU" AND YOU KNOW WHATTTT IT HURTS SOO GOOD OMG THANKS FOR MAKING THATT SJWISHWBSHSJSBWJSBWBS

...

and.. maybe can you write for a part two? pleaseee🥺

HIII TYSM IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! here's a pt 2! i am very sick at the moment, though, so this might be a bunch of gibberish (i sincerely apologize if so). hope you like it <3

simon riley betrays you pt. 2

simon "ghost" riley x reader || pt. 1 || masterlist

☆ ☆ ☆

-miraculously, they let you go.

-you half expected someone to drag you out of the car with the barrel of a gun pressed against your temple with the intent to fire, but no. after a few excruciatingly long hours alone with your arms and legs bound, someone new came to cut your ties and let you loose.

-maybe they were just bad at their job, you thought. after all, why would they let you, essentially a witness, go free without any repercussions?

-a few years pass. you try to move on, but its impossible when your entire world was shattered in one night.

-you never heard back from your father since then, but that wasn't the thing that hurt the most. you couldn't go a single day without thinking about the sting of betrayal. any happy moment you had was spent comparing the time you felt that same feeling with him, before anything in the world was wrong to you.

-what's worse, there was something telling you that you shouldn't tell anyone about it even if you wanted to. a voice in your head kept telling you that maybe, maybe they're keeping you on a leash. maybe someone was watching you at this very moment ready to take you out the moment you spilled your experiences.

-in a way, your fears are confirmed when you meet simon again miles away from the last place you lived. you had moved for this exact reason; you never wanted to see his face for as long as you lived.

-it happens when you're walking alone in the street. you moved to this area specifically because you heard it was quieter and, more importantly, safer. but how much of that could you escape, really?

-your attacker approaches you as you're making your walk home from work, a kind of confidence on his face that makes the common individual want to roll their eyes.

-"what's a sweet thing like you doing out alone at night, huh?" he asks, his footsteps staggered like he's had one too many drinks.

-you give him the usual speel of, "oh, my friends are waiting for me... yeah, i've got a boyfriend. haha, i'm okay, no need to accompany me, thanks."

-your soft attempts at rejection only seem to agitate him, because next thing you know he's stepping toward you and putting a hand on your arm with a bone-crushing grip.

-"c'mon jus' let me-"

-his voice is cut off by the sound of a loud thud and the stranger's yelp of pain. it takes you a second, but you realize the defense on your behalf came from beside you.

-oh, thank god.

-you and your now injured attacker now adjust your gazes to sit on the silent newcomer. just like that, your settled sense of dread has come back and increased tenfold.

-there he was, with that stupid mask over his face and his hands curled into fists for preparation of what he was going to do next if the man didn't scurry off.

-"you'll leave," he says darkly under subtle pants, as if he ran before coming to your rescue. "if you know what's good for you."

-the stranger wastes no time in running off into the night, leaving you with your worst nightmare.

-for a while, you both stare at each other like you can't believe the other is real. it takes everything in you not to cry or beg him for answers. no, after everything you worked for, you're not going to throw away everything you built in the past few years to recover from him just to throw it all away now... right?

-"why are you here?" you ask coldly. "come to finish the job?"

-although your eyes were icy and your questions came with a rigid tone, there was genuine fear in your question. what if the soldier that untied you wasn't supposed to? what if you were supposed to be dead all those years ago?

-"no. never."

-even though he knows the reason why, his heart still hurts at the thought of you believing he'd just up and kill you like that.

-"really? that's rich," you scoff, except you're terrible at hiding the tremble in your breath and the tremors traveling through your body.

-spotting your growing fear, he scrambles for something, anything, to make you fear him less.

-"i was worried, that's all. after that night," he pauses, eventually deciding to skip the details of what he did to your father. "i didn't know where you went. thought i could just get over it, but i guess i just knew i needed to check in on you just in case."

-you resist the urge to roll you eyes. "right. you're back again to 'check in on me'? to come back and meddle in my life again?" you're struggling to keep your tears back as they form in your eyes. "you've already taken so much. how selfish can you be?"

-he stares at you for a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and taking out a gold watch that belonged to your dad.

-"i'm sorry about your father, but you have to understand that he-"

-"not that, simon. it was never that," you push his hand away and the offer that came with it. his eyes became confused. "i mean you. it's always been you. you just come into my life telling me you love me, that you want to be with me so much and then just take that all away? and you never even bothered to tell me it was a lie, just let me get tied up by some stranger to be left alone and scared!"

-there's a new look in simon's eyes at your words, but it's hard to decipher them from behind the mask.

-"it wasn't a lie," he says slowly, lowering the hand with the watch in it back to his side.

-"oh, please." the trembling has not died down in the slightest. "i bet you're still mad that worker of yours took pity on me and let me leave before you could do anything about it. like i said, back to finish the job."

-your eyes are now trained on the ground. there was a conflicted feeling in your body at the moment. on one hand, this was the man that let you get tied up and left in a car while he "handled" your father. on the other, this was the man you loved. the one who was kind to your ever desire, who always understood you in ways you never knew possible.

-"i told them to let you go," he finally manages.

-"what?"

"i..." he hesitates. "i told my captain that if i was going to give them your father's location, they were to let you go no questions asked when the whole ordeal was over with." and it was true. he hated even imagining poor you, being interrogated by his colleagues in an isolated, barren room. you had been through enough.

-and even if you had been a part of your father's scheme, there was a part of simon that loved you too much to care (though he'd never admit it to himself).

-it was a good thing price trusted his judgment. he didn't know what he would've done had he said no.

-the tears are now streaming down your face and you can do nothing to stop it. it all felt like so much. you were so, so confused. if he did love you, why did you feel this way? how much of this could you trust?

-cautiously, he goes to wipe the tears away from your face, murmuring a quiet, "hate it when you cry." for a second, it was a familiar feeling. you felt like you were back in your shared flat with simon while having a breakdown over life's struggles. in moments like those, you never would have expectated that life's struggles could take the form of simon himself.

-you can't help but lean into his touch. maybe you were insane for allowing him to touch you like this, but you wanted nothing more than to let him into your life again. the resolve you worked so hard to build was crumbling away the longer you spent with him.

-"the reason it took so long for me to find you..." he's holding your face in his hands, now. "for so long, i thought i ought to leave you alone. i know i should. i wasn't lying about when i said i was worried if you were still alive, but," he swallows the lump in his throat before continuing. "i also miss you. 'nd i know, 's incredibly selfish of me after everything i've done to you, but i can't help it."

-one of his hands leaves your face to slide the mask and balaclava off his face. there he was again, his aged brown eyes and soft jawline, the sides of his face littered with small scars you still remember to this day.

-"i'll make it up to you," he whispers. "anything you ask, i'll answer. about my past, your father, anything. you ask me to get you something, i'll have it for you wrapped all nice 'nd pretty. hell, i'll get on my knees and pray to you if you order me to, love."

-it was like your nightmare turned into a fantasy, having him here begging for your forgiveness.

-"anything you want, i want to give to you. jus' let me be a little selfish, too."

-you bite your lip as you think it over. you know the correct answer would be a clear, hard no, but you can't bring yourself to do it. not after all those nights wishing he was encasing you in his arms again, whispering all the things he adored about you as you drifted off into sleep.

-as much as you shouldn't be believing him, you do.

-"...anything?" you ask hesitantly, and it takes everything in simon not to pull you in close and never let go.

-again. no, he needs to be sure he won't scare you off again.

-"anything," he promises, fingertips tracing the edge of your jawline.

-"okay," you agree, the tears finally having stopped flowing. happiness does not even begin to describe what simon was feeling. "for starters, you can walk me home."

-with the watch long forgotten and broken on the edge of the sidewalk, he holds your face for a bit longer before letting go. eventually, he offers his arm to you and you take it.

-there's a part of him that mourns the years lost that he could've had with you. maybe, if he came to you sooner, he wouldn't have to be so careful about being around you, now. but, no, these were the consequences of his actions.

-at the very least, you were still giving him a second chance, and he was intent on not fucking it up this time.

[coolname-ver3]

There's something about Claus idolizing traditionally masculine, stoic raw strength, deciding it's his job to kill the draco he'd been playing with just the day before, going alone to avenge his mother like any hero would .. and then end up getting killed, and then being reconstructed as an impossibly strong human weapon, a cold, efficient soldier, a completely emotionless husk of a human being, and how that ends up being agony for him… He'd become a horrible exasperation of the type of strength he idolized, of the same ideas of what a man should be that ended up utterly failing him.

Really this type of masculinity ends up failing again and again over the course of the game (just look at what happens with Flint), and often either directly or indirectly cause so much pain... And Claus is possibly the greatest victim of that

[casurlaub]

Can we please agree that liking a character doesn't mean you have to explain away their every bad call? And that disliking a character doesn't mean you have to overlook their good qualities to have them fit your narrative? No one is just this or that. It's always a range.

The lack of nuance in parts of this fandom annoys me so much. And let's please drop the double standards - finding excuses for every 'bad' thing character A does while demonizing character B.

Dumbledore is no super villain. Yes, he put defeating Voldemort over Harry's (emotional) needs. He isn't some supportive father figure, but he's not responsible for the war nor everyone's decision to join in. 'He raised an army of children' - um no? Because if so, he, the greatest wizard of the age, did a shitty job. In both wizarding wars it was just one group of friends joining the Order, not a huge number of former students. So either super-smart Dumbledore seriously sucked at recruiting, or maybe he didn't try all that hard?

James wasn't some prime example of social justice warrior from the very beginning. Yes, he had - to some extent - a set moral code, he hated the Dark Arts, and he certainly never used dark curses on others. But he found it entertaining to hex students at random. He was a classic bully; he did it because he could and because he found it funny. He enjoyed it. But that doesn't mean he had no good traits - he cared for his friends, befriended Remus (practically an outcast), and later he changed. I can't get over the people who find excuses for Snape's bullying of his students, of literal children when he's an adult, but seem to think James was the worst person to ever exist.

Sirius has a ton of good qualities; I could write an essay about it. But guess what, that doesn't make the prank thing okay (no matter if Remus cared about it). The same goes for the Snape bullying and his condescending (cruel) behavior towards Peter. And his treatment of Kreacher, who was oppressed, not the oppressor. And why do we applaud him for 'forgiving' Remus in PoA for not trying to get him out of Azkaban? What's there to applaud? He was in Azkaban because he thought Remus was the spy, did we forget that? How do we expect Remus to suss out that Sirius thought himself clever enough to outsmart not only Voldemort but also Dumbledore? Sirius isn't on some moral high ground here. He wasn't in Azkaban because of Remus but because of his own arrogance and lapse of judgement.

Remus isn't some impersonated moral code. He isn't 'the sensible one' by default. He makes a ton of shitty, truly awful decisions (roaming Hogsmeade while a werewolf, not telling Dumbledore about the secret passages or Sirius's animagus form in PoA even after Sirius, the alleged mass murderer with an agenda of killing Harry, broke into Harry's dorm, abandoning Tonks...). But he isn't some master manipulator with a hidden agenda either. He was driven by his self-loathing first and foremost. And when did it become worse to be a bystander than to participate in the actual bullying? (I'm not saying it's okay, but how can we find excuses for James and Sirius, but Remus is super evil for doing... nothing? When it's stated that Snape was following him and trying to uncover his secret to get him expelled? Shocking he didn't feel all that sympathetic.) Of course he is passive-aggressive, of course he was selfish/cowardish, I don't know, but he isn't evil? He's usually kind (ffs, he even felt pity for Greyback), and his issues are in the end all rooted in his endless self-loathing. That doesn't excuse it. It doesn't. But it doesn't mean he's acting like he does because he's an inherently bad person. This idea of inherently 'bad' or 'good' people is naive and harmful anyhow. Besides - I feel some standards imposed on him are impossible to meet, when the same people are quick to explain away James's/Sirius's/Snape's flaws. Remus is suffering from massive childhood trauma that he's forced to relive every month, he's stigmatized for it by society his whole life, but he himself is supposed to just 'let it go'? Without therapy or anything? Right...

And even Lily isn't a saint. She's fighting back a smile when James is bullying her (supposedly) best friend?

Snape is no tragic hero whose every wrong is justified because he turned around and sacrificed himself. Of course, he was brave. Of course, he had a shitty childhood. That doesn't give him a free pass. He was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts when he arrived at Hogwarts already, he invented curses like Sectumsempra while at Hogwarts, he sold the 'love of his life' to Voldemort. And even after he 'changed' and overcame his fascist views, he bullied children he was supposed to take care of - as a grown man. Not only Harry, but also Neville, Hermione, Ron, who knows how many others. So, yeah, cool, he protected their lives 'when it counted' - 'when it counted'??? You don't belittle your students, you don't insult them, you don't threaten to poison their pets no matter what happened to you when you were a kid. You're an adult, take responsibility. Easy as that. What happened to you may be an explanation, but not an excuse. And do we really think he didn't strike back at James and Sirius? That it was just James and Sirius and him taking it lying down without doing anything himself? I don't.

It's entirely natural to relate more to one character than another and to feel more sympathetic towards them. But let's move away from this 'all or nothing' way of thinking.

To me, they're all beautiful because they're flawed. It makes them real. I don't want them to be stripped of their flaws, not even my favorite characters.

Don't take Sirius's darkness away, don't turn Remus into the ever gentle voice of reason or the super selfish master manipulator (same goes for Dumbledore) and ffs don't excuse Snape's fascist views and bullying of children.

[chvoswxtch]

Happy 4k baby! Okay so ever since Beyoncé dropped Cowboy Carter, I can’t listen to bodyguard without thinking about Frank and I have been WAITING to make a request with this song and here you are spoiling us. Can I get an espresso with the lyrics “I give you kisses in the backseat” plzzzz? Love you! 🫶🏿

you & I are on the same wavelength nonnie bc as soon as I heard this song I immediately thought of frankie. if this album had been out when I made the soundtrack for the series it absolutely would've been on there

feel free to enjoy this as a stand alone drabble or as part of the bodyguard universe ;)

thank you so much honey! love you back 🖤

drabble below the cut

order for frank with an extra shot of bodyguard

“We should be gettin’ back’, sweetheart.”

“Five more minutes.”

Frank couldn’t deny you, not while he was eagerly exploring underneath your dress, gripping your soft thighs in his rough hands, pulling you impossibly closer on his lap. His own shirt was halfway unbuttoned, one of your hands caressing his exposed chest while the other was tangled in the short strands of his dark hair. His kisses were just as needy as yours, and he let out a deep grunt feeling your teeth capture his bottom lip in a teasing bite.

This had become a little routine between the two of you, sneaking out to the parking garage, hiding out in the back of Frank’s truck while making out like a pair of impatient and hormonal teenagers. The delectable forbidden fruit of your kiss was just far too enticing to ignore. Despite the ethical issue, Frank rationalized in his own head that technically he was still doing his job. You were safe and sound with him, and you had his complete and undivided attention. 

When the two of you were in public, Frank was strictly professional, and you acted polite and cordial. There was no evidence or leak of suspicion regarding your illicit secret. But when you were alone, even if it was just a quick five minutes, you were all his, and he made every second count.

A grin stretched across Frank’s mouth and an amused chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. He leaned in to start trailing soft kisses along your jawline, a husky whisper dripping into your ear.

“Alright, sweetheart. Five more minutes.”

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Likable vs Complex vs "Good"

EDIT: Couple people came up to me thinking of alternatives for category 3 "Good" and my favourite is Kimberly's suggestion of "effective". I think "effective" is great because it means well utilized. It's pretty much exactly what I was going for when writing the descriptions in this post.

I feel that when it comes to describing characters, there are strong differences between a

Likable character - Someone you enjoy watching, like to have on screen, might want to share a drink with. Most protagonists. Usually a blorbo with a mass fandom who says they were done wrong if theyre a side character.

Complex character - how many layers does this one have? how much do you have to talk about them to explain them? Do you see people defending them with massive text posts? Do you follow this blog? You have experience with complex characters.

"Good" character - I don't mean a good person. That is more of a "likable" characteristic. I mean, does this character serve a solid role in the story? Do they have a job, and do they perform it well? This can include minor characters you don't care for, and it can actually exclude complex characters if their motivations don't seem to make sense or have relevance to the story.

I think a "good" character can be further broken down into subcategories but it's impossible to define whether a character is good by a basic description for all series. It requires comprehension of the source material and what it's trying to do.

Allow me to illustrate this with some examples.

I was considering what show to use for this. Let's go with She-Ra for now because it's my current thing and I don't want to be roasting SU or Owl House, and I think Adventure Time is a bad fit due to how episodic it is. I'd have to categorise by season for each example. Let me know if you want me to talk about any specific characters.

Sea Hawk

Likable: Yes Complex: No Good: No

Sea Hawk is a side character in She-Ra who gets kinda sidelined. He hasn't got much to do with anything but he makes me smile when he shows up. I don't think Sea Hawk has a purpose other than to make chaotic background noise. I think that's fine? But he's not a good character and the show would lose almost nothing if he was gone.

Edit: I feel kinda bad for implying sea hawk is not a good character so remember that I mean he isn't used effectively, he doesn't have much involvement and presence. I think a key example is his absence from season 5 entirely when he could have been used more effectively and wasn't.

Light Hope

Likable: Not really Complex: Not really Good: YES

Light Hope is Adora's mentor as She-Ra who is actually manipulating her. Light Hope has a tragic story that adds to her complexity but she's deeply overshadowed by other characters in the story.

What makes her a good character is how strongly Light Hope ties to the themes of the story. Her reveal as being "actually evil" could have been shallow and bad in a different series (anyone else playing Halo recently?) but Light Hope having her agency stolen from her, just like Adora, makes it liberating and heartbreaking when she is destroyed alongside the Sword of Protection.

Light Hope represents the oppressive regime of the First Ones and the ways they would control Etheria, while being a victim herself. She heavily parallels Adora. She does not require being complex or likable to have an important impact on the story.

Micah

Likable: Yes Complex: Yes proportional to screentime Good: Not consistently

I really like Micah. He's one of my favourite side characters. So why can I not call him a good character?

It's because he only serves to drive the actions of others, and when he is onscreen as an actual character, the show doesn't know what to do with him.

Micah was "dead" for most of the show and his life and death drove the decisions of plenty of others. He learnt from Shadow Weaver and was an important part of her corruption arc, being better at magic than her but scared away by the dark magic, which ended up attacking her. His disappearance is why Angella and Glimmer's relationship is so strained, why Glimmer is so determined to prove herself, and when he was in the Portal World, both characters had to give up the "wrong future" with him to restore the world.

Micah has a character with way more depth than you'd expect from a dead dad. He has a funny likable personality and is a highly skilled mage with a variety of relationships, who has survived on an island for god knows how long.

However, this kind of speaks to him being the protagonist of his own story, and She-ra is so chock full of characters aiming to a specific goal. Micah actually being alive has very little to do with the story of season 5. He isn't part of the space mission. He has an episode with Frosta, another character who has little to do with anything, and then he gets chipped for the rest of the show.

The reason Micah ended up this way is because he's a complex character in a story that has no room to do anything with him. He's not the only victim of season 5's crunch time, far from it, but he never got any screentime or "arc" and his actions don't tie in to the show very much.

Glimmer

Likable: No Complex: Yes Good: Yes

Edit: I'm guessing this one was what got me flack? But Glimmer is easily in my top 3 favourite characters and imo she is the character i by far most greatly resemble. I used her here because I think she's a much more interesting example of a disliked yet very well written character than Catra for this post. But it's evident, if you look at the fandom behaviour, casual viewers don't like her much. People either love her for her everything or kind of hate her, and she's treated badly in a lot of fanfic. The reasons for this exist in the show's writing and framing and how people interpret her. She's far from the first blorbo of mine to exist in these conditions, i mean just look at PB from AT who is a thousand times more hated but also the best character.

So Glimmer's likability yoyos significantly across the series, she's far from the most offensive abrasive friend character, but she's one of the least likable characters in She-Ra. This is down to the show not having any particularly unlikable characters apart from Shadow Weaver, if I'm honest, and Glimmer's constant rubbing against other far more liked characters such as Adora, Bow, Catra, so on.

Glimmer is annoying as a bare minimum and nasty as shit at other times, going through challenges that turn her against her friends and make her seek power and lash out against others.

However, these are flaws the show is hyper aware of and has baked into her story. They are all part of what makes her Glimmer, they are all what makes her so memorable and interesting.

It is the push and pull of Glimmer's courage, her desire to be there for her friends, with her insecurities about being weak, her failure to protect her mother, that mean... When Glimmer is handed the powers of the moonstone and offered tutoring in magic, you're giving a powerless beaten down puppy a MACHINE GUN. Of course she's going to use that power ineffectively.

Complexity doesn't always make a good character. If you look at Steven Universe or even Adventure Time, you have a lot of complex characters in that series who fail to serve any strong role, or who zigzag in so many directions taht you can no longer make sense of their motivations.

However, Glimmer's motivations are not only internally consistent across the entire series, the show gives her a complete character arc where she goes from a powerless brat, to a responsible commander, to a brokenhearted powerhouse, to someone who understands where she fucked up and is trying very very hard to lead her friends into a hopeful future using the very same character traits that led her to go astray - Her love, courage, and rage.

There are a couple of weaknesses for Glimmer. I would say mainly that the show goes too far to make her snap at Adora in season 4. I don't think she needed to go that far, and it would've been fine if they dealt with it properly in season 5, but Adora and Glimmer's relationship is completely brushed over in season 5. Adora and Glimmer aren't the only victims of this - there is Micah, and season 5 is the difference between Scorpia being a good character vs an "ok" character - but it is a very very good story, and it's hard to say how it could've improved these characters with the timeframe that it had.

Entrapta

Likable: Yes Complex: No Good: Yes

What makes Entrapta different from Micah and Glimmer and Sea Hawk is that she's a very basic, likable character, but she has a severe impact on every single season on the show. Entrapta is second to Catra, in my opinion, in terms of making a "good" character in She-ra, but she doesn't require any of Catra or Glimmer's complexity to get there.

Entrapta's character does not change much, but she does have challenges, which tie strongly to the base themes of She-ra - understanding, acceptance and love. Entrapta is thrown around the plot like a pinball but her movements are being noticed by all the other characters. When she joins the Horde, it changes both the Horde and the Rebellion. She puts Hordak on his path to independence. She's a big reason Catra descended into desperation, going through a repeat of the cycle of abuse. She's also why Adora and Glimmer went into hardcore martyrdom, though that has less to do with Entrapta herself and more to do with how her "death" triggered their prior conditioning. She did the runestone experiment, and created the portal. And when Entrapta is removed from the equation, it is a major catalyst for other characters to step into the hole she left behind.

But while these feats are impressive, they don't say much about Entrapta herself. What makes her a good character and not just a plot device?

Well, Entrapta has an internal logic and a strong sense of personality that is present throughout the show. While other mad scientists might act randomly and not have much character going on, Entrapta has an entire arc that has less to do with science and is instead focused on her goal of connection. She has a deep love for science but also for friendship and she wants to connect those things together, she wants to express love through her science and be liked for who she is.

That's what makes her compelling and likable. It's not that deep but it ties in to everything she does. It's what connects her to the other characters.

That's why Entrapta can seamlessly work with the good guys, and the bad guys, and be ideologically opposed to the true big bad of the series just as the rest of the characters are, without having to change much as a person or to be that complex. The show moves her around where she is most effective at serving its story themes as her current self, and she never has a period of inactivity in the story even when absent. And she never has to do anything that contradicts her previous actions.

I have strong opinions on other series. I'm thinking a lot about SU, because it's full of complex characters who get discarded, but also I'm thinking about Princess Bubblegum. I think I'd rate Princess Bubblegum differently for every season of Adventure Time.

[raayllum]

Chapter length: 8.2k Summary: Callum and Rayla reach the Starscraper, and Claudia and Terry reach a potential breaking point.

CHAPTER 10: Pure of Heart

 but others claim to have seen Lasair’s blossoms—proof their hearts are pureand their fingers clean.

—Lasair the Insidious, Tales of Xadia

The Starscraper was even bigger up close. 

It was slim but impossibly tall, the tower itself a luminescent purple that never entirely stayed the same colour. It seemed to thrum with life, energy constantly moving up and down along its simple but enchanting stem, like the dancing lights they’d seen above their heads that one night on the tundra. They’d travelled throughout the day, but Callum was glad to have reached their destination by nightfall—it was so bright it drowned everything else out, and if they could just figure out how to get up to the top, where there was clearly some sort of dwelling, they’d have a place to spend the night away from the elements, too.

Callum tucked his sun ruby away in his pocket, exhaling now that it’d done its job. He put his hands on his hips and then glanced over at Rayla, thinking of the first time they’d stood beneath the Storm Spire together, with Ezran, the shadowpaw, and Zym in tow. He smiled more easily now in spite of the frigid conditions. 

“Tip-top this time, too?” he asked, pleased when she snorted.

“Looks like.” She stepped back to glance around it, craning her neck. “Do you think there’s a way to activate something, or—?”

“Maybe?” He jostled his shoulders. “I could just fly us up.”

“You could,” she acknowledged with a fond eye roll, “but we want to make sure there’s somewhere to land once we get all the way up there. Magic can be tricky sometimes. There might not be a platform to land on without the right spell, or at least not one we can recognize because of illusions, or something.” 

“I guess.” He surveyed it, sticking his tongue in his cheek rather than out between his lips because of the cold. Then he noticed Rayla trying not to laugh at him. “What?”

“Just a familiar face,” she said. “The I’m- trying -to-think-of-a-dumb-idea face.”

“You might change your tune when it gets us up there.”

And she might’ve—if two figures hadn’t dropped down from the dark sky out of nowhere. Rayla whipped out a blade as her and Callum leapt back, putting distance between them and the stem of the Starscraper. 

[sixgunluvr]

A Love To Protect

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Mature Age 18+ Readers ONLY.

Pairing Arthur with a female reader.

There may be errors. I read through these a couple times but I still may miss things.

The next morning you are awakened by the voice of men discussing plans to rob the bank in Valentine.

You stretch your limbs as you awaken, the events from last night still fresh in your mind. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, savoring the remaining scent of Arthur clinging to your hair and pillow. You can't help but smile, feeling content and happy.

Arthur had already risen long before you and was joined in on the discussion outside.

The crisp morning air filled with boisterous laughter and animated gestures floated in as you sit up in bed.  

Arthur had already brought you fresh water to wash your face. You smiled to yourself when you saw it.

He is always thinking of you.

You feel a sense of warmth in your heart knowing that he hasn't forgotten about you, even in the midst of his gang's planning and strategizing. 

You splash your face with the crisp cool water and it awakens your senses.

After checking your reflection in the mirror you decide that you are ready to leave the tent.

You step outside and take a few moments to admire Arthur from afar, taking in the way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt as he moves-and oh, those eyes. They light up wherever they go, and it's no different now as he talks animatedly with his comrades. It's impossible not to get lost in them.

But even as you stare, the weight of last night's fears creep back in. You glance around the camp, and your stomach drops. Where is he?

Micah.

His presence lingers like a dark cloud over the group, and without him physically present, you can't shake off the feeling that he's watching you. Waiting for his moment to strike.

Arthur notices your unease, and he immediately comes over to you. "What's wrong, darlin'?" he asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You can see the concern in his eyes, and you feel guilty for burdening him with your worries.

"Nothing, I'm just a little on edge," you admit, forcing a smile.

Arthur frowns and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "I won't let anything happen to you," he says with quiet intensity. "I promise."

His words make you feel safe and loved, and you lean into his embrace, breathing in his comforting scent.

"The guys and I were discussing our plan to rob the bank in Valentine," Arthur explains, breaking the silence. "I know it's dangerous, but I couldn't say no to the offer. It's a huge job, and it could set us up for a while."

You nod, understanding his predicament. Despite the risks, you couldn't deny Arthur the chance to secure a better future for himself and his gang.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," you say, looking up at him with worried eyes.

"Always, sweetheart," he replies, kissing you softly on the lips.

"That job won't happen for a few days though. Today, Charles, Lenny and I have another quick job to do. I'll be gone for most of the day but I should be back by suppertime," he adds, his hand trailing down to yours, entwining your fingers together.

As he speaks, the group of men around you both nod in agreement. They're all excited about the job, their voices hushed but filled with anticipation. You can sense the tension in the air but you push it aside, focusing on Arthur and his words.

"I don't like leaving you here alone, without me," he continues, a frown creasing his brow. "You'll have to stay with the others while we're gone."

At that moment, Micah approaches you.

You can feel Arthur's hand tightening around yours, readying himself for whatever Micah has planned next. The tension between the two of them is palpable, and you start to worry about what this day holds for all of you.

"Morning, Micah," Arthur says, his voice strained but polite.

"Arthur," Micah replies with a smarmy smile.

"I see you're leaving today. Try to make it back in one piece. You wouldn't want to leave this lovely lady alone, would you?"

His words are laced with sarcasm, and Arthur's hand tightens around yours even more. You can feel the waves of anger and disgust rolling off of him in waves, and you're grateful for his possessiveness over you.

As Micah saunters away, Arthur turns to you with a warm smile. "Don't worry about him, sweetheart.

He's just trying to get under my skin," Arthur says, brushing off Micah's earlier remark with a wave of his hand.

"I can take care of myself while you're gone," you assure him, not wanting him to worry about you.

"I know you can, but I still don't like leaving you here."

His concern for you is sweet, and you lean in to give him a reassuring kiss.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Besides, Dutch and the other guys are here.  Just come back to me in one piece," you whispered against Arthur's lips, your fingers tracing the outline of his strong jawline.

He nodded solemnly, his green eyes filled with determination and passion.

"I'll always come back to you, sweetheart," he said, before capturing your lips once more in a deep and passionate kiss.

As the day wore on, you kept busy around the camp, helping with tasks and chatting with the other women.

But your thoughts were never far from Arthur and the danger of his mission.

"Hey there, beautiful," a deep voice says behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn around to see Dutch, one of Arthur's closest friends and the leader of gang. "What's got you so lost in thought over there?"

You smile at him and shrug. "Just thinking about Arthur and the job he's on today."

Dutch nods, his expression serious. "He's a smart guy, and he'll be careful.

Besides, I'm sure it's just a quick snatch-and-grab job. He won't be gone for long," Dutch reassures you, his voice smooth and steady.

You want to believe him, but you can't shake off the feeling of unease that's been plaguing you since this morning. You nod hesitantly and turn your attention back to the task at hand, trying to busy yourself with work.

To take your mind off of things you decide to go pick some fresh raspberries so the gang has a nice dessert for supper tonight. Pearson brought some fresh cream back to the camp this morning and that will be perfect with the raspberries.

You grab a basket and tell Dutch what you're off to do.

"Don't wander too far," he warns, "Arthur would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

"I won't!" you shout over your shoulder as you saunter off into the woods.

The wind catches your hair as you disappear among the trees, creating a trail of rippling leaves in your wake.

Your heart races as you move further and further away from the camp, making sure to keep an eye out for any juicy raspberries. You breathe in the smell of wildflowers and damp earth, letting it cleanse your mind. The sun warms your skin as it seeps through the thick canopy of leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

You breathe deeply, savoring the fresh air that fills your lungs with every inhale and exhale. You've always loved the wilderness, and this was just what you needed to calm your nerves.

As you wander deeper into the woods, you begin to lose yourself in its serenity. The only sounds audible are those of nature: the rustling leaves beneath your feet, the sound of chirping birds, and the gentle babble of a nearby brook. Your mind is clear, and you feel at peace with the world around you.

The only thing that's been weighing heavily on your mind is Arthur's safety. But you push those thoughts aside, determined to enjoy this breather from the chaotic camp life.

You continue to gather raspberries in your basket, the juicy fruit staining your fingers a deep red. As you lean down to pick some more, you feel a sudden presence behind you. Your heart skips a beat, and your senses go on high alert. You slowly turn around, and your eyes meet Micah's.

He stands there, a sly smile playing on his lips. Your heart races as you realize that you are alone with him, far away from the safety of the camp. You try to keep your voice steady as you greet him, but you can't shake off the feeling of unease that's now taken over your body.

"Hello, Micah," you say, trying to keep your composure and sound casual. "What brings you here?"

He shrugs, still smiling. "Just thought I'd see if I could find some wild raspberries too.

I have to admit, you're a pro at finding the ripest ones."

Micah steps closer to you, and your heart starts racing. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he speaks, and you take a step back. But there's nowhere for you to go; you're trapped between Micah and a tree.

He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers trailing against your cheek. You shiver involuntarily, and you curse yourself for it. Don't let him see that he's affecting you.

You swallow hard, pulling your face away from his grasp. "I-I think I've gathered enough raspberries," you stammer, holding up your basket as evidence. "I should get back to camp. Dutch is gonna wonder where I am."

But Micah doesn't budge. Instead, he steps even closer to you, invading your personal space and making you feel cornered. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves, and your heart races as you try to come up with a way to escape.

The wind rustles through the trees, causing his scent to envelop you. It's a mix of sweat, whiskey, and musk, and it's making your stomach churn.

Micah's hand slides down your arm, and he grabs onto your wrist. "Don't be like that," he purrs. "We both know you want this."

Panic rises in your throat as you try to wriggle out of his grip, but he's too strong. "Let go of me," you stammer, your voice trembling.

But Micah just laughs and pulls you closer, his other hand sneaking around to cup your ass. "Come on, sweetheart. You know you want it just as much as I do."

The revulsion fills every inch of your body as he grinds himself against you, his erection obvious through his pants.

"Get off me!" You hiss through gritted teeth, trying to push him away, but he's like a damn animal, wild and untamed.

With a sneer, Micah tightens his grip on your wrists, forcing you to drop your basket of raspberries. They scatter on the ground, staining the earth with their juices as the wind howls through the trees.

"Come on, baby. You know you want it," he says huskily, pressing his lips against your ear as he nibbles on your lobe.

"I can make you feel so good."

His hot breath sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a lump form in your throat. "Please," you whimper, hating how pathetic you sound but unable to help the desperation in your voice. "Just let me go."

But instead of releasing you, Micah's grip on you tightens, and he pushes you harder against the tree. His erection digs into your hip, making bile rise in your throat. You can't believe this is happening. Not here, not with him. 

The thought of his hands on you, his mouth, made you nauseous. You struggled in his grip but he was too strong.

Micah slammed you against the tree, pressing his body against yours so you couldn't escape. His other hand grabbed your breast and squeezed it hard, making you cry out in pain.

"Shut up, you little whore," he snarled, grinding his hips against you. "I knew you wanted this. You've always wanted it."

His words were like a slap in the face. No, no, no. You didn't want this.

You tried to push him away with every fiber of your being, but he was too strong.

Micah's lips pressed hard against yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips and teeth, invading your mouth in the most disgusting and invasive way possible.

You felt his hand roughly shoving its way up your skirt, fingernails scratching down your thighs as he forced your legs apart. 

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your legs were weak with fear.

You did the only thing you could think of, and bit his tongue hard.

He snapped back, "You bitch," he shouted cupping his mouth, spitting out blood.

Before you even had time to brace yourself his backhand connected with your cheek sending you to the ground where the side of your head connects with a rock.

You immediately feel a pounding in your head and your surroundings are spinning. 

Trying to shake it off you look up and see an out of focus Micah stalking towards you. You try to scramble to your feet, but he grabs onto your hair and yanks you back down. The pain is sharp and immediate, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes.

"You stupid little bitch," he hisses, his spittle hitting your face. "You think you can reject me like that?"

Fear coils in your stomach as he leans down, his breath hot on your face.

His fist connects with the side of your head.

The force of the punch sends another wave of pain crashing through your skull, and you feel yourself start to see stars. You cry out in pain but that just seems to give him fuel for his assault.

Micah tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back so that you're forced to look up at him. His face is twisted in rage, and his eyes are wild.

You can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves, and you know that you are in grave danger.

But even in the midst of your terror, a newfound strength rises up within you. You refuse to let yourself be a victim, and so with all of your might, you sink your teeth deep into his forearm. Releasing your hair, Micah yells in pain and recoils, giving you just enough time to scramble to your feet.  You take off running, your heart pounding in your chest as you dart through the trees. Your lungs burn, and your legs tremble, but you don't dare slow down.

Behind you, you can hear Micah cursing and crashing through the underbrush. He sounds closer than you'd like, and panic surges through you once more. But then, ahead of you, you see a glimmer of hope: the edge of the woods is just up ahead. If you can make it to the clearing where the camp is set up, maybe you'll be safe.

It's a long shot, but it's all you've got. You push yourself harder, your legs screaming in protest as you race toward the open field. You can hear Micah closing in behind you, his angry roars spurring you on.

Suddenly, you burst out of the tree line and onto the open grassy area near the camp. Your chest heaving with exertion, you scan frantically for help.

In the distance, you can see Dutch and Javier sitting by the fire, unaware of your predicament. Desperation courses through you as you attempt to gain their attention.

Micah finally emerges from the trees, pausing to catch his breath before a sinister smile spreads across his face. He slowly starts to walk towards you, relishing in your fear.

"Boss!" Micah shouts approaching me. "We need help here!"

Dutch and Javier jump to their feet and look in our direction. 

Micah grabs your shoulders as if to help you stay upright and shield you from danger. You're heaving to catch your breath as adrenaline courses through you. You could taste the blood in your mouth and your vision was blurry, your head feels like its about to explode.

Micah starts to say something, but Dutch cuts him off mid-sentence. "What the hell is going on here?" He demands, running towards you, eyes narrowed at Micah who still has hold of you. You're trembling with fear, but the sight of Dutch and Javier gives you hope that you'll be alright.

"She was attacked," Micah starts to explain, but his words barely register in your ears as everything around you becomes muffled. You can't believe what just happened, and your mind reels from the trauma.

Dutch and Javier rush over to you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the blood running from your cheek, and the fear etched onto your face.

"What the hell happened?" Dutch demands, his eyes blazing with anger as they dart between you and Micah.

Micah lets go of you as if suddenly realizing the weight of the situation.

Your legs give way, and you collapse onto the grass, your body shaking uncontrollably. Dutch reaches you first and gathers you in his arms, holding you close as he whispers soothing words into your ear. Javier stands guard, eyeing Micah warily as he tries to explain himself.

"She was out to picking raspberries," Micah begins, but Dutch cuts him off with a growl. "Shut up, Micah. Don't say another word until we get this sorted out." Dutch turns his attention back to you, his eyes filled with concern.

You couldn't make out anything else being said, everything was muffled, your head was pounding. Slowly everything went black.

The world around you faded away, and the last thing you remembered before losing consciousness was the warmth of Dutch's embrace.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Butterflies Aren't Just for Kids

Part 2 of Crushes Aren't Just for Kids

Pairing: JLU!Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader

Summary: Bruce hasn't asked you out yet, despite the League's interest in your new relationship. When he finally has enough and takes you away from their prying eyes and endless questions, you tell him why you hid your feelings for so long.

Warnings: fluff!!! John, Diana, and Wally get warnings for being nosy

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

A/N: Have I mentioned that I love this show? I considered basing this on The Once and Future Thing (s1 finale) but think that would be better as an independent rewrite. Also, I love Wally so much!!

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Plenty has changed since Morgaine Le Fay turned you, Bruce, Clark, Diana, and John into kids and back into adults to defeat her son. Bruce learned about your crush on him, as did John and Diana, and Bruce hinted that he’d ask you out soon. Being a superhero vigilante is a full-time job, though, and he has yet to find the time to do that.

Every time you set foot in the Watchtower, John and Diana give you questioning looks. You can tell they want to pry and hear about what’s happening with you and Bruce, but you also know they won’t believe you when you say nothing. Luckily, you still have easy access to all the hiding places Bruce installed in the multi-million-dollar space base.

While you sit in the cafeteria and eat, your thoughts drift to Bruce. He’s off somewhere fighting an alien with Clark, yet all you want is another quiet moment at his side.

“Hey,” Wally greets as he sits.

“Hi, Walls,” you reply with a smile.

“What’s up with all the weird looks?”

“What do you mean?”

Wally looks down and quickly counts the food items on his four trays. He speeds back into the cafeteria for another pudding, and you brace yourself for the wind that follows his return.

“Everyone keeps looking at you like there’s something big happening. They used to look at me like that, but you’re hogging my attention,” Wally answers.

“Sorry about that.”

“Seriously, it’s impossible to miss all of the looks. John and Diana look ready to snap every time you walk into the room.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” you lie. “I’m sure whatever they think is happening will pass soon and all eyes will be back on you.”

“As they should be, right?”

“Right, Walls.”

You excuse yourself, but not before you offer your cake to Wally. You ignore the looks Wally mentioned as you walk toward J’onn’s station in the heart of the Watchtower.

“J’onn, can you send me home? I don’t think I’ve got anything else to do up here,” you request.

“Certainly. I’ll let you know if we need you to return.”

“Thanks.”

A light blinds you temporarily, and when you open your eyes, you realize someone must have told J’onn you have a new home.

“I have got to talk to John about boundaries,” you mumble as you begin the short walk to Wayne Manor.

A few days later, you haven’t even seen Bruce. You’ve been pining after him for years, though, so what’s a few more days before that date he said he’d take you on? As long as it isn’t a theme park, you think as you walk through the Watchtower.

“We need to talk,” Diana says as she pulls you into a corner.

“About what?” you ask.

“You and Bruce,” John answers, stepping out of the shadows.

“What is this, an intervention? There’s nothing to talk about!” you whisper harshly.

“What happened after we left?” Diana inquires.

“He took me home. If you must know, he implied that he’d ask me out, but that is it! He may not even like me anymore.”

John shakes his head with a knowing look on his face. He can read you too well to lie to him.

“Look, I’m trying to be patient and wait for him to decide, ask, whatever, but it is getting very hard to do with you two drawing attention to us! Booster Gold asked me where the boyfriend was, and he didn’t even know who he was talking about!”

“Booster never knows what he’s talking about,” John argues.

“That is not the point.”

John smirks before he asks, “So, when you and Bruce have kids, do you think they’ll look like you two did in Mordred’s kingdom?”

The door behind Diana opens, and you realize you’ve been having this conversation outside Bruce’s workshop. While he was in it.

“Stop,” Bruce demands.

Diana nudges you, and you push her away. You’ll do something, but not because she encouraged you to, because you want to.

“What?” you ask with an exaggerated pout. “You don’t want to have kids with me, Brucie?”

Bruce rolls his eyes at your reply, but John and Diana stay beside you despite his bat glare.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Diana asks. “Because we’re all waiting for you to do something.”

“Clearly,” Bruce replies. “We’re leaving. Lantern. Diana.”

Before John or Diana can speak again, J’onn transports you and Bruce away. They’re left facing each other with a few answers and more questions.

“Where do you think they went?” Diana inquires.

“I’m- I’m not sure I want to think about that,” John answers slowly. “She is my friend, you know.”

“So is he.”

“Yeah,” John says, his voice laced with sarcasm and disbelief. “Sure, he is. Best friend, really.”

When you arrive in the manor, pressed to Bruce’s side just as you were in the amusement park, you don’t hesitate to turn and hug him. Bruce’s arms wrap around you loosely, and you step back when Alfred enters the living room.

“I’ll assume you’re the reason I’ve been getting so many dirty looks and questions from the League?” Bruce asks.

His lips are up at the edges, and you think he will smile at any moment. You can’t tell by looking at him, but Bruce feels like a kid again when he’s with you. He didn't experience childhood like he should have, so he lets himself be genuine with you. He’s done wasting time, he decides.

“You know, I’ve been fighting by your side for a long time,” you say. “But your hugs are way better than your grappling hooks.”

Bruce shakes his head and leads you toward the couch before Alfred returns with popcorn, a tray of snacks, and your favorite drink that you did not ask for nor mention. You thank him, and he winks at you quickly. He’s glad to see Bruce happy and to have visitors in the manor again.

“I should’ve hugged you sooner,” you muse as you reach for the food. “Could have been spending time here for years by now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Bruce asks softly.

“Why didn’t you?” you counter. You lick your lips before answering, “You’re important to me, Bruce. I didn’t want to jeopardize our relationship or the team, or, worse, put you in danger by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. There were too many unknowns.”

“So, you planned to, what? Wait until I said something?”

“Caged butterflies,” you whisper. “Cages don’t hold them very well. I would’ve said something eventually, but Morgaine put me in a position where I didn’t have to.”

“Then, technically, John told me.”

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

Bruce smiles, and the butterflies you felt as a kid revive to create a hurricane in your heart. He leans in and brushes his lips over your cheek before saying, “I’ve been told… I’ve also been told crushes aren’t just for kids.”

“Jerk,” you mumble again as you turn your face toward Bruce.

“Oh! Oh!” John yells when you step out of J’onn’s transporter and onto the Watchtower. “Someone’s glowing. How them butterflies feeling?”

“Like kids again,” you answer honestly. “I guess I should thank you for forcing me to do something.”

“Lanterns have been making dreams come true for millennia.”

“There’s no way that’s true.”

“You don’t know that. You’re not a Lantern, or a mind reader.”

“It’s not true,” J’onn calls without looking away from his console.

“Man, we need better friends,” John tells you.

“You are my better friend.”

“Save that lovey stuff for the boyfriend.”

“I thought he was Diana’s boyfriend,” you argue, tilting your head as you hide your smile.

“The ploy of a mastermind to learn the truth,” John answers with a shrug.

“You really are spending too much time with Wally.”

John stands and beckons you to follow him. You do so wordlessly, but you run into someone as you round a corner beside him. Bruce grasps your arms gently to keep you upright before dropping his head to look at you.

“Here comes the bride,” Wally sings under his breath.

You and Bruce look up quickly, surprised to see Wally has joined John, and they are watching your interaction with far too much interest.

“And that’s why we’re glad Wally wasn’t included in Mordred’s spell,” you grumble against Bruce’s chest.

“What spell?” Wally asks. He doesn’t give anyone time to answer before he rambles, “Hey, have you told her about your childhood, Bats? I mean, you’re definitely a loner now, but good luck learning anything about him; he’s one tough walnut to crack.”

“I know,” you and John say together.

Bruce tightens his grip on you before requesting J’onn send him home. The Watchtower is no longer a haven from Gotham, not with the League’s new favorite topic of conversation: you and Batman.

“We should buy a vacation house,” Bruce says as you open your eyes in Gotham.

“Yeah. In Coast City, where Ollie can find us and bring the rest of the fan club,” you joke.

Bruce stays quiet for a moment, and you begin to ask him what’s wrong, but he cuts you off.

“Get ready. We’re going on that date I promised,” he says.

“You never actually asked,” you point out.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Bruce asks.

“I’d love to.”

“Then go get ready. I’m taking you somewhere we can be ourselves.”

“Where could you possibly take me that Bruce Wayne won’t be recognized? And if you say an amusement park I will walk out right now.”

“I was thinking Metropolis. The roof of the Daily Planet. I called in a few favors.”

“I take it back. You weren’t a cute kid… you’re still cute.”

“And you still have trouble with maintaining eye contact.” Bruce leads you to the stairs and spreads his hand over your lower back before he whispers, “We’ll work on it.”

[goatsandgangsters]

had a very interesting day out where I saved a hypothetical dog's life, aesthetically read in the park, and got in the middle of Strangers Arguing in my temporary new job as Patron Saint of Slackliners

first of all, gorgeous day, low 60s, bright blue sky, warm in the sun but with a refreshingly cool breeze, the trees finally have leaves again, peak Late Spring moment

I stopped at the farmer's market and didn't end up buying anything, but someone at a booth gave me a little sprig of lavender (this is a surprise tool that will help us later!)

passed by a guy squatting on the sidewalk picking up the entire contents of a dropped container of grapes, right as his friend was like "it's fine, just leave it, some dog will come by and take care of it" and I whipped around and went "GRAPES ARE SUPER TOXIC TO DOGS!!!" this is an urban area, people don't have yards, there are So Many dogs on the sidewalks, so my first task set by the universe today was sharing Dog Facts so that none of them die

I arrive at the park. I find a lovely tree to sit under. it is the most vibrantly blue-and-green day imaginable. I have my travel mug of hot tea that is only getting hotter sitting in direct sunlight. I have a sprig of lavender in my pocket. I am wearing—this is important scene setting information—high waisted secondhand wool trousers that definitely once belonged to an old man, a button down, tortoise shell glasses, and (again) a sprig of lavender. I am reading a book of oscar wilde plays. I am a parody of myself, but it's fine because I'm having a great time

and then—The Slackline Drama Begins. two people show up and start setting up a slackline near me and these other two girls who're sitting on the grass. the two girls are in the trajectory of the slackline, so the slackliners ask if they could scoot back a couple feet (or maybe they didn't even, the grass girls were like a little off to the side, so they might've just taken issue with the slacklining happening right next to them—not sure, I hadn't fully clocked into the drama yet)

in either case, the girls refuse to move and take issue with the slackliners, who explain that they're really sorry but they need a certain distance between trees and this is one of the few spots that's good for them to set up. the grass girls are like "well then maybe you should have gotten here earlier :))))))))"

important context: this park is 500 acres. it is not a small park. there is no shortage of grass to sit on. I have gotten lost in this park multiple times. it's vast.

there is a lot of back-and-forth between the slackliners and the grass girls. the one slackliner is getting very upset and angry that the grass girls won't just scoot. slackline girl has been having a rough time and hasn't been able to get outside recently and this is very clearly the final shitty-thing straw. the grass girls are immune to this and using that like...... faux-nice "girl who bullied you in middle school" Meanly Chirpy voice to keep being like "well we were here first so this is Our Spot :))))))) you can't ask people to move in public :)))))"

it has gone on long enough that's impossible to ignore, but my mental math says that jumping in and trying to mediate won't go over well, so instead I just look at upset slackline girl and say—loudly—"I'm on your side." bc I felt like if grass girls with their Faux Polite Tones knew other people were paying attention and were siding with Swearing Slackliner, that would help more

Grass Girls do, finally, get up and leave entirely (instead of just...... scooting over five feet) and they make some snide parting remarks. slackline girl calls them assholes, I loudly agree. Slackline Girl is now sobbing, her friend is comforting her, it's kinda clear she's not gonna be able to have a good time even with grass girls leaving

I go over and I'm like "hey I know you don't know me, but do you want a hug?" and the girl says yes, clings onto me crying, she's being very apologetic about the whole thing and trying to explain, and I'm like "no they were literally just sitting on the grass and there is...... So Much Grass. you are not the asshole. there's so much other grass!" I keep this up with her and the friend until she stops crying, bc like sometimes you do need an outside perspective

I go "hey.......... do you want a sprig of lavender?" and she very tearfully nods and goes "I love lavender"

again, I AM DRESSED LIKE A SNAZZY GRANDFATHER, joining this beef between strangers and doling out random sprigs of lavender

anyway, she's cheering up, so I go back to reading, they get slacklining, they end up needing to tie a line to my tree I'm reading under, I don't have a problem with this because I'm not a dick and we can share the tree, the afternoon passes, eventually it's getting a little chilly so I decide to leave and I'm thinking "okay how can I quickly grab their attention to say goodbye"

but the SECOND they see me stand up and grab my things, they're like BYE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! and I'm like "I hope you have a good day!" and she's like "you kinda saved it" I'm full of gooey feelings about it, I genuinely want good things to happen for this person so much, and I'm glad the universe appointed me and my sprig of lavender as her cheerer-upper

in conclusion: I'm enjoying Lady Windermere's Fan so far

[nayziiz]

Speed | CS55

Summary: In a chance encounter at a gas station, a mysterious woman on a Yamaha YZF R6 catches the attention of Carlos, a charming Ferrari driver. Little did they know the journey they would both go on.

Warning: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Lola)

Masterlist

Chapter 9

Despite the whirlwind romance with Carlos, Lola remained grounded in reality. She carried on with her life, focusing on her work and her passions, determined not to let herself get swept away by feelings for a man who seemed to belong to a world far beyond her own.

She knew better than to catch feelings for someone like Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver with fame and fortune at his fingertips. In a world where he could have any girl he desired, Lola couldn't help but feel like she was just another fleeting moment in his fast-paced life.

As Carlos flew to Maranello, immersed in the world of racing and high-stakes competition, Lola continued to navigate the everyday challenges of her own life. She threw herself into her work, finding solace in the familiar routine of her job and the satisfaction of creating something meaningful.

But despite her best efforts to push him out of her mind, Carlos lingered in her thoughts like a lingering melody, a reminder of the passion and excitement she had experienced in his arms. Yet, she knew that getting involved with someone like him could only lead to heartache in the end.

As the days passed after Carlos's departure to Maranello, Lola found herself both surprised and comforted by the occasional phone calls and text messages they exchanged. Each interaction felt like a lifeline, a connection to a world that seemed both tantalisingly close and impossibly distant at the same time.

Their conversations ranged from playful banter to deeper topics. Despite the physical distance between them, they found solace in the familiarity of each other's voices, sharing snippets of their lives as if they had known each other for years rather than mere days.

But as the week progressed and Carlos's departure to Australia loomed closer, a sense of unease settled over Lola like a dark cloud on the horizon. She couldn't shake the feeling that their fragile connection was about to be severed, that the ephemeral happiness they had found together was destined to fade away like a fleeting dream.

And then, just as she had feared, the messages grew fewer and farther between until they eventually ceased altogether. The silence was deafening, a stark reminder of the transient nature of their connection and the harsh reality of their different worlds.

The other shoe had finally dropped, just like she expected. Despite her best efforts to guard her heart, the sting of rejection cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable in its wake. She had known all along that getting involved with someone like Carlos was a risk, but she hadn't been prepared for just how much it would hurt when he inevitably walked away.

Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Lola felt an unexpected sense of liberation wash over her in the wake of Carlos's silence. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, freeing her from the constraints of expectation and allowing her to embrace the true essence of who she was.

In the past, she had allowed herself to be defined by the actions of others, allowing their fleeting affections to dictate her sense of self-worth. But with Carlos, it was different. He had ignited a spark within her, a spark of independence and resilience that burned brighter than any fleeting romance.

So, instead of wallowing in despair, Lola made a bold decision. She would reclaim her power, her agency, and her sense of adventure. She would no longer allow herself to be held captive by the whims of others, but instead would forge her own path, guided by the thrill of the open road and the wind in her hair.

With a determined glint in her eye, Lola donned her leather jacket, swung her leg over her Yamaha, and revved the engine to life. As she tore down the highway, her heart pounding with exhilaration, she realised that she didn't need Carlos or anyone else to make her feel alive.

For the first time in a long time, she felt truly free. Free to ride wherever the road may lead, free to embrace the unknown with open arms, and free to be unapologetically herself.

As Lola sat in front of the television, the familiar buzz of excitement filled the air as the Formula 1 Qualifying session unfolded on the screen before her. Her heart raced with anticipation, her eyes scanning the track for any sign of the scarlet Ferrari, adorned with the number 55, that had become so intertwined with her thoughts.

Despite her resolve to move on and embrace her newfound freedom, there was still a part of her that yearned for a glimpse of Carlos, a fleeting connection to the man who had ignited a spark within her. As each car sped past, she held her breath, waiting for that unmistakable flash of red, the roar of the engine that sent shivers down her spine.

And then, there it was. The sleek, elegant form of the Ferrari streaking across the screen, carving through the corners with precision and grace. Lola's heart skipped a beat as she watched, her eyes tracing every curve and every line of the car, her mind filled with memories of their time together.

For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the thrill of the race, to lose herself in the adrenaline-fueled excitement of the sport she had grown to love. But as the cars crossed the finish line and the session drew to a close, reality came crashing back, reminding her of the distance that now lay between her and Carlos.

What she didn’t expect was for her phone to start ringing with Carlos’s name flashing across the screen.

Lola's heart skipped a beat as she saw Carlos's name light up her phone screen, a mixture of surprise and anticipation flooding her senses. With a quick intake of breath, she answered the call, her voice calm despite the flutter of excitement within her.

“Hey.” She greeted him, her tone light and playful.

“Hey,” Carlos responded, his voice warm and familiar. “Did you watch Qualifying?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lola's lips as she leaned back in her chair.

“I may have,” she teased, a hint of mischief lacing her words.

“Why else would you be up so early on a Sunday, huh?” Carlos teased, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. Lola chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

“Touché.” she replied, unable to hide the smile in her voice. “You did great, Carlos.”

“If I win by some miracle, then I’m dedicating the win to you. You’ve lit the fire in me that I didn’t realise was turning to ash.” A soft sigh escaped Carlos's lips, his tone laced with sincerity. Lola's laughter bubbled up at his bold declaration.

“That seems awfully confident,” she teased, her voice warm with affection.

“I have to go debrief with the media. Will you message me later when you’ve slept a bit then we can video call?” He asked, his tone carrying a mix of regret and anticipation.

“Sure, that would be nice.” She agreed, her voice warm with understanding.

“Good. I’ve missed your pretty face.” He mumbled, his words laced with a tender longing that spoke volumes about his feelings for her.

“Have you?.” She countered, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“Oh, most definitely. I have some time between this Grand Prix and Japan. I’ll come visit, maybe convince you to come with me to Japan?” Carlos responded, his tone playful yet tinged with sincerity.

“You want me to come with you to Japan?” Lola repeated, the possibility sparking excitement in her voice.

“Yeah…” He trailed off, his voice holding a hopeful note. “We can discuss later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lola agreed, her heart fluttering with anxiety at the thought of embarking on such an adventure with him.

“Alright, duty calls. Talk to you later, mon amor,” he greeted her, his words carrying a warmth that made her smile, and before she could respond, the call abruptly ended, leaving her with anticipation for their next conversation.

-----------------------

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @notyouraveragemochii @heyheyheyggg

[wiildroses]

incorrect quotes feat. magnus & eleanor ( @fatescattered )

[no-light-left-on]

I often wonder about the quote-unquote logistics of Corvo the Black/Emily the Butcher endings. Emily makes more sense to me, in a way, carving her way through the empire only to come back with blood caked under her fingernails and realising that she did everything her father refused to do 15 years ago. but why did Corvo have a similar choice?

what happens to the statues later? does Emily keep her father trapped in stone? does Corvo look at his daughter, frozen in the moment and considers freeing her? is he at his deathbed when he finally reaches out and cups Emily's cheek, freeing her into a carcass of an empire that he gutted for her, in her name, in the name of her mother?

when I first heard of the endings I thought that if you reach very high chaos, you are locked into this choice - Corvo or Emily tries to free the other and the stone just doesn't budge. they are trapped. the quest is over but the world knows that the bloodshed was extreme and this is the punishment they have to face

[bumblingbabooshka]

Young Teacher Tuvok Patreon | Ko-fi

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Rewatched the episode of House MD where Kutner dies and I honestly think instead of killing his character off, they should have said that Kutner got a job as physician to then President Barack Obama and that's why he was leaving. Objectively funnier since his actor did leave the show to work for Obama and I know it would have driven House nuts that Kutner was ditching to go play doctor with the President instead of getting verbally abused for House's amusement.