#well no offense but they are insufferable about this

[torahtot]

ok ive had enough of queering judaism. can we start judaizing queerness now. or something

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

spellbound: spy

epilogue/bonus ch!

masterlist

you knock on megumi's door, your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears. you're not sure why you're so nervous. you and him have been dating for a few weeks now, but you can't help it. just the mere idea of him is enough to wake the butterflies in your stomach. It's odd to think of how you used to mistake these feelings for hatred. but you two are beyond that now; that part of your lives is over. megumi opens the door with a grin on his face, and it's off-putting to anyone but you—he can't not smile around you anymore.

"hey megs-"

your sentence is interrupted by him cupping your face and fervently locking his lips with yours. kissing you as hungrily and urgently, if not even more, as he did the night you confessed. you push him off of you.

"jeez, can you at least let me say hi first, stalker?"

"sorry," he says flippantly, not actually sorry at all, as his face flushes bright pink.

"so what's on the agenda today?" you ask as you walk past him into his house. "some more horror movies, maybe-"

megumi stops you in your tracks by grabbing you by your waist, his arms wrapping around you, and drawing you into him, your back flush against his chest. "are you gonna kiss me back yet? you already said hi."

"you're awfully affectionate today, megs." you swivel around in his hold to face him, pushing a few strands of his hair out of his face as you entreat, "let me guess yuji and nobara aren't home?"

megumi sheepishly averts his attention to the floor.

"knew it. I have to practically fight you just to get a kiss when they're here."

"it's embarrassing..."

you gawk, feigning offense. "oh, so loving me is embarrassing?"

his gaze snaps back to your face, worried you're serious, but when he sees the shit-eating grin you're adorning, megumi rolls his eyes. "ok, you know what I meant. stop it."

"I know," you say cheerfully, before finally leaning in and giving him what he wants—sort of. you purposely pull away the moment you feel him melt into and deepen the kiss.

"now chop chop, these movies won't watch themselves!"

"I hate you."

"oh, I'm sure you do, stalker."

☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆

Inumaki, nobara, and yuji are all giggling like crazy as maki unlocks the door, while yuuta attempts to shush them, considering it’s late and they are trying to be stealthy here.

with the door now unlocked, maki doesn’t open it; instead, she turns around and scolds, “can you guys shut up?”

“oh, cmon, babe, aren’t you excited? we’re about to catch megumi and y/n being all lovey-dovey!” nobara pouts, suddenly hanging onto her girlfriend's arm like a koala.

"well, we’re not gonna catch anyone if you guys don’t be quiet,” yuuta quips under his breath.

maki nods. "thank you, yuuta.”

"you guys are no fun, oh my god,” Inumaki says through a quiet groan.

“for real!” yuji exclaims, slightly exasperated. “we didn’t suffer through weeks of them being insufferable just for us to never see them happy together!”

“do you think maybe this is why,” maki says, unimpressed.

“maki, my love, shut up,” nobara gruffs before placing a chaste kiss on maki’s cheek. "you're literally an accomplice right now, so don’t pretend you’re not trying to catch them being losers either... now open the door, cmon we’re wasting time!”

"yeah, megumi has probably already sensed our presence by now,“ yuji whines.

yuuta’s brows knit together, looking and sounding slightly concerned as he asks, “what?”

yuji shrugs nonchalantly. "yeah, I don't know; he has like a sixth sense.”

maki rolls her eyes. “or maybe it’s because you guys aren't discreet at all.”

“oh my fucking god, maki, just open the damn door,” Inumaki snaps. “all this yapping, and for what?”

nobara nods. “yeah, babe, listen to Inumaki.”

“dear lord, help us all,” maki murmurs quietly as she turns back toward the door.

the three of them are all attempting to control their giggles as maki and yuuta eye each other. yuuta merely shrugs, and maki sighs before quietly opening the front door. Immediately, it’s dark; the only light coming in is the porch light from the front door.

“are they not home?” yuji asks through a whisper, squinting as if that will speed up his eyes adjustment to the darkness.

nobara frowns. “they have to be; they said they would!”

“fuck, maybe they found us out,” Inumaki adds.

maki suggests blankly, “have we considered turning on a light yet, maybe.” 

yuuta walks toward the light switch, mumbling, "I'll do it.”

It takes a minute for everyone's eyes to adjust, but once they do, everyone goes wide-eyed at the scene in front of them. you and megumi are asleep on the couch. you’re on top of him, lying on his chest, and buried in his arms. small content smiles on both of your faces.

yuji chokes back a squeal. “no way, no way, no way!!”

“oh my god, maki, hold me; I'm gonna collapse,” nobara quickly says before throwing herself into her girlfriend's arms.

maki stumbles slightly as she mutters, "I might collapse too; this is sickening.”

yuuta can’t help but smile. "aw, wait, this is so cute."

“right?” Inumaki instantly agrees. “look at them cuddling asleep, oh my god," he pauses momentarily. "I suddenly have the urge to kick y/n.”

maki’s glare practically burns holes into Inumaki. "don't you dare.”

"If you touch me, I'll kill you.”

everyone’s head snaps toward you, slightly startled from not expecting you to say anything considering you were asleep—or at least they thought you were.

“oh my god, haha!" Inumaki laughs nervously. “heyyy, we were just talking about you.”

you roll your eyes and slowly lift your head to look at all of them, before gently resting your chin back down on megumi’s chest. “you guys are so loud; maybe work on that next time you wanna spy on us.”

“we tried telling them to be quiet,” yuuta explains.

maki adds, “they don’t know what that is.”

you scoff, “clearly.”

“Is megs awake?” yuji asks.

“nope,” you say, quickly glancing at megumi, who’s still sound asleep. “you think I'd still be on his chest right now if he were?”

nobara half-shrugs in agreement. “you’re right, he’d go into cardiac arrest... shy ass bitch.”

you can't help but snort, which you immediately regret because megumi stirs awake.

“who are you talking to?” he slurs with his eyes still closed.

"shh, no one, go back to sleep,” you coo.

megumi’s face scrunches up, evidently suspicious, and the moment you see his eyes begin to open, you slap your hands over them.

“y/n, stop covering my eyes.”

"I don't know what you’re talking about.”

you barely have a second to process what's happening before megumi sits up, your hands dropping off his face as you grab onto his shirt to save yourself from falling. he also wraps his arms around your waist to help. now sitting up, with you in his lap, he looks around and finds the rest of the group smiling like idiots at the whole ordeal. megumi flushes deep red as he turns to look back at you, who’s smiling menacingly.

he gulps, not liking the way you’re looking at him. “y/n…”

although you’re already on his lap and in his arms, the force with which you slam yourself against him pushes him back down onto the couch, and now back in your original positions, you smother kisses all over his face. megumi somehow flushes an even darker red as he attempts to push you off him in embarrassment, and his embarrassment only grows worse when he can hear yuuta, yuji, Inumaki, and nobara either cooing or laughing while maki is pretending to gag.

"I thought you didn’t hate me anymore,” megumi asks through a pout, still attempting to evade your kisses.

"I don't,” you say before pressing your lips against his.

megumi kisses you back and uses the opportunity to snake his hands up and grab your face, pulling it away from his and effectively stopping you from kissing him anymore. “then why are you torturing me like this.”

you simply smile. “cause you're cute when you get all embarrassed.”

megumi pushes you off of him and onto the couch as he stands up, scoffing, “fuck off.”

you laugh as you sit up properly. "you wound me, stalker; I can feel my soulmate mark fading as we speak.”

megumi looks down at you blankly. “you're literally not funny. like at all.”

nobara seems to suddenly appear out of thin air by megumi’s side, slinging her arm over his shoulders as she coos, “and everyone booed when I said me and y/n would marry into the same family.”

maki rolls her eyes and pulls her girlfriend off megumi. “neither of us are married, nobara.”

“yet…”

megumi rolls his eyes. “shut up, nobara.”

yuji, who has just been enjoying recording the bickering between you and megumi up until now, lifts his head from his phone. “hey megs?”

“what?”

"have you told gojo anything? cause like he's asking me how you are, and I don't wanna spill the beans…”

"wow, you're closing your fat ass mouth for once?”

you don't hesitate to kick megumi in the shins for that and scold him through clenched teeth, telling him to be nice.

yuji is unphased. "don't play with me right now. your life is in my hands.”

megumi clears his throat. "...I'll text him.”

-ok ignore that i accidentally posted this last night coughs.

-ANYWAY YIPPEE BONUS CH!

-do nawt ask me what happens when gojo gets there bc idk! megumi explodes probably !

-sorry the layout is so weird i wouldnt have been able to include gojo's messages in here had i screenshotted the written part like i usually do but i rlly wanted to add papa gojo!!

-ANYWAY LOVE U KITTENS MWAH MWAH ! I HOPE U GUYS LIKED THIS SORRY ITS LIKE LOWKEY UNDERWHELMING AND BAD LOLZ

LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF HELP LINKS FOR PALESTINE, CONGO, AND SUDAN

taglist!🦂 (under the cut)

@bloombb @kasumitenbaz @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @deegausserr @theholypeanut @iluv-ace @sad-darksoul @secretanimesimp @satforsatoru @bbysatoruuu @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @1l-ynn @lu-spizzeria @nymphsdomain @babydoll-143 @zellwa @k4romis @ynverse @r0ckst4rjk @chilichopsticks @ryoiii @nnnyxie @st1rvoid @pastatata @morgyyyyyyy @venusinx @lees-chaotic-brain @nishii28 @meguemii @honeyfewr @nobody289x @afatalheat @hopeladybug @becsmarvel @bakugouswh0r3 @enigmaticnephilim @nanamiswifes @you-always-made-me-blush @everythingseasoning @jayathelostdragon @tranzumaki @saesofficialwife @delulusuga @tar0sw0rld @hexrts-anatomy @camilo-uwu @revrse @tanchosanke @ashfrommyfire @liveincans @gyuville @fushigurosdevinedogs @zamorazz @amenial

[anantaru]

𝐃𝐎𝐍‘𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋

after you were trying your hardest, over and over again, to make your relationship work yet still failing in the end, you ultimately decided it‘d be better to end it with scaramouche.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 1.7k

୨୧ WARNINGS: angst, gn! reader, mention of past intimacy between each other, break up, slight yan ?? a sprinkle, scara‘s overwhelmed and doesn‘t know how to be normal.

love.

love is kind, patient. As calm as a rural sea on a silent night.

love takes delight in the truth, in mutual understanding and trust. It never takes offense, it is not resentful.

additionally, love is able to forgive, to hope and to endure so why, why did your love fly away, with no strings and a pair of attached, imaginary wings on their back?

how often did you try to see the once shining radiant light in midst the insufferable darkness you called your relationship with scaramouche.

being guided by nothing but sorrow, you remembered that it wasn‘t always like that, was it?

as a strong believer in the saying of ”whatever you held onto about yourself will eventually come true“, you had manipulated yourself into thinking just that, which had later on caused a swell of deep hope to cover the majority of your burning heart.

you manifested for your relationship to take a sharp turn after barely overstepping each hard coming without escaping unscattered.

committing to a relationship was first and foremost, to accept each trait your significant other had, it truly didn't matter if it was good or bad as long as you were well equipped enough to be there for them.

but when does that not apply anymore?

exactly when it seemed as if you were forgetting about your own well being.

you see, you can twist and turn the narrative but in the end it was obvious that scaramouche had to work through more than 'just' a few hardships.

maybe it would be better for his own health to be alone for a while, to find his true nature and gather a newfound feeling of love towards himself before being able to hold love towards another person.

with an aching, deep throb in your heart, you opened the door to the bedroom you once shared as you spotted your boyfriend, well, soon to be ex boyfriend right away, sitting on the edge of the bed, his sight lowered towards the cold floor.

"you‘re here."

with the burn of pain those words caused alone, the idea of holding yourself back was in vein, scaramouche had you already figured out from the start so hiding the blatant truth would only feed into each negative aspect of the conversation that was developing right now.

"you told me to come, why shouldn't i be here?"

it was strange, truly, the immediate change in his usual tone was apparent, scaramouche sounded distant, as if he already knew what was coming next.

breaking away from your frozen stance, you proceeded to close the bedroom door, each small step well thought out until you were as close as necessary, proceeding.

"can you look at me?"

no matter how much you wanted to get this heartfelt decision over with, you still desired to end it properly, without leaving unanswered questions hidden which would sooner or later poke your mind, more so eat you from the inside out until nothing was left to be devoured.

for a short amount of time, he did not speak, his arms were resting on his thighs as he kept his eyes pierced towards the cold wooden floor, never daring to break away.

you gave him the time, as much as he sought after. At the back of your mind ominous darkened thoughts found refuge in, a cold spider like sensation was swarming up and down the entirety of your spine, deepening the restraint in your voice.

you watched in silence, thousands of questions prowling through your cloudy mind as he, in a trice, decided to speak up, "how ungraciously backward you can be, to force me through this."

the inner voice inside you churned through your body, desperately warning you, a dazed look of bewilderment crossing the irritated state your face was trapped in.

"what do you mean by that?"

with an attempt to keep your trembling lip under control, you gathered the soft flesh in between your teeth, only a tiny bit until the self restraint of your body returned to you.

"i mean it exactly how i said it." on a heavy sigh, he continued with a demeaning voice, the epitome of gradient turmoil blistering your heart, you absolutely despised it whenever he got to talk to you in that precise manner.

"you know my past and yet you still persist." at his final word, he at last, lifted his head to meet your glowing eyes, glowing for the wrong reasons that is as they were welling up with warm tears.

"what do you expect me to do kuni?"

scaramouche flinched at the name you decided to use, after all, it was long forgotten yet whenever you said it, whenever you referred to him with it, it sounded all the more familiar and intimate.

"nothing.. nothing."

swarmed with the view of him, your throat seized. Indigo eyes, crystallized mind, his attention on you was heavy as you decided to move forward, cautiously taking a seat next to him.

the mattress shifted of your added weight, there was no point in arguing but for some unexplained, fucked up reason, it always proceeded to end up like this.

"i never intended to hurt you, but i'm at my limit." the tears in you made your eyes glimmer, the previous confidence that was utterly dominant upon approaching the bedroom before, was long gone with your head hung low, but you still desired to finish what you had started.

"it's always the same, it will always end the same."

much to your surprise, scaramouche for once decided to listen to you. You were wary of the sudden change in mannerism but didn't complain, it gave off a pleasant way to articulate what you wanted to say to him.

"and we need to break up in order to get better."

another hesitation in your voice, he immediately noticed, his throat loosening with an approaching laugh, "oh, so that's how it is."

with a tumble forward, he got off the bed to stand tall, his shoulders tugged back in a confident stance, turning around yet again.

"you just want to cast me aside too, don't you?"

this wasn't fair, how could this possibly be fair in any other occasion?

all the preparation to this conversation, thrown aside, the burning, heartbreaking feeling was tearing you apart, as if trapped in a maze, one you couldn't escape, one that got smaller within each minute, one that would squeeze you to death by the very end.

"you don't see my point, can you at least try to understand?" the past was continuously invading the present, it was devastating.

"can i try, what?" he draws one touch on you, only one, forcefully grabbing your chin in between his fingers to make you look at him, but still keeping the contact with your skin light, as to not hurt you.

your throat grew tighter as a natural response to the once cold air becoming thicker as you spoke, each sentence alluring the feature.

silent anger, like true liquid fire but it didn't spill, he kept it to himself while only showing short nuances of the burning ache eating away his blazing core.

mindlessly sitting on the edge of terror, you bristled on the faint independence you had left in yourself.

"i will always love you, but don't you realize that right now, you're literally showing me why it won't work."

scaramouche could no longer see anything but the threat of losing you, he couldn't hear you, not anymore, his mind was at risk to collapse and break, the hand on your chin beginning to tremble.

is it possible to scream without screaming? to cry without crying or to die without dying? because to scaramouche it felt as if those things were happening to him, right this second in front of you.

"what about all those times we made love to each other, hm? does this mean nothing to you anymore?"

a tear, barely to be perceived, danced around the corner of his eye as it spilled, alone and lost, plastering the cold floor.

"or when you told me that you'll never leave like the rest of them?"

scaramouche remembered those distinct feelings within his chest now, how hysterical laughable, he thought he had long since disposed of them entirely.

yet the one you managed to awake in him was still there, like a micro organism feeding on its damaged host, eating away the spirit until death was inevitable.

the first time he had perceived those world-shattering emotions, he was cast aside by his creator, his mother.

the words you intended to say were murdered in your throat, rejected, "i don't know what to say."

each decision had a consequence laced around it, some more gruesome than the other.

"you don't have to say anything." his innermost self, his being, gathered the last courage to lock his eyes with yours before lastly letting go of your chin, straightening his posture.

you felt the chill in your blood, ice water in your veins, the silence in your ears, the death of your failing relationship. Part of the pain, you could endure.

but could he?

"i should go." with clear, pure agony in your soul, you ultimately rose up from your seat to pass him and reach the door to the exit.

he stood still, not moving an inch of his tensed muscles, letting his thoughts walk out around him, in search of something he knew he couldn't get, at least not now.

"if you think that's the end."

scaramouche didn't intend to finish his sentence to you, nor reveal it, more so did it involuntarily divulge out of him.

what he meant by that was unclear to the both of you, it lingered both unpredictability and uncertainty in the air.

something was not right but you could not decipher the darkened suspicion with your alarm bells pointing right towards them.

it was the end, like a book you closed after reading through it, even if you dared to pick it up again, nothing would change in it.

your relationship was nothing but a broken mirror within a casted ray of sunlight, damaged and split as you left at last, scrambling the final steps out of the apartment you once shared.

to turn around, to watch you go, with the world around him animating death.

passed by limitless silence, he closed his eyes, endlessly consuming the darkness that were his thoughts.

and so, it wasn‘t a tear that slowed out of him, but a hysterical laugh, side splitting and crazy, as he commented for the very last time.

"how foolish you can be, dear."

©2022 anantaru do not share, copy, translate

[stellamancer]

this is all @shotorus's fault.

You don't mean to stare, really, you don't.

Especially when you are well, well aware that it's what Gojo wants. You know better than anyone that if there's anything that he enjoys it is the knowledge that your eyes, your attention, your focus is on him. He covets it, revels in it, luxuriates in it like it is his god-given right.

But it's not.

And you have every intent of reminding him of that fact.

Which is why you don't mean to stare and, honestly, you don't even know how it happened; one second, you were looking over your phone, and the next your eyes were glued to his backside, watching— staring as he removed his shirt.

For three seconds, your gaze is filled with the view of the expanse of the smooth skin that makes up his backside. He's more muscular than you thought, and why wouldn't he be? You know as well the next person that he's a skilled martial artist so it makes sense— but there's a difference between knowing and seeing. Gojo is always wearing loose fitting shirts and oversized jackets and with a technique that can destroy a curse without even lifting a finger, it's easy, so, so easy to just think he's just lankly limbs and flat body underneath all those clothes. The t-shirt he's pulling off shows just a peek of his toned biceps and somehow the room suddenly feels a few degrees hotter.

"Like what you see?"

Gojo's playful and amused voice yanks you back to reality, your blood feeling like it's on fire at the sound. You rip your gaze from him and to make sure that your eyes, which feel like they may have a mind of their own, don't try to sneak another few eyefuls of the image of his body, you turn your head away from him.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, trying to play it off.

He chuckles. "Caught ya staring, didn't I?"

"I wasn't staring," you lie, though if there is anything else you know about Gojo, it's that he loves only hearing what he wants to hear.

"You were so staring," he says. "Not that I can really blame you..."

Gojo laughs as you make a disgusted sound. "Why are you even changing in the teacher's lounge anyway? Don't you have your own personal office?"

"I don't see the problem here... we're both adults, aren't we?" he counters, completely and totally avoiding your question. You don't really need him to answer actually; you know the truth is that he just wanted you to look, to stare at him and damn him and damn you too because you both know he got exactly what he wanted.

"Do you have any sense of shame?" you ask, scowling.

You hear the sound of rustling fabric— Gojo putting on another shirt, mingling with the sound of Gojo snickering, entertained as he always seems to be whenever he's with you. "That requires having something to be ashamed of, you know."

You roll your eyes. "You have plenty to be ashamed of."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Your absolutely terrible and insufferable personality."

Gojo is silent. He can't argue with you on that one and you both know it. You think maybe you might have one-upped him this time, but then he laughs. "Sure, but you weren't staring at my personality, now were you?"

Now you're the speechless one, the desire to knock some sense into Gojo taking the place of any verbal response.

He must be done getting dressed because you hear him move, circling around you and forcing himself into your field of vision. Gojo’s changed into a different shirt, a dress shirt, with the top unbutton left undone, cursing you with an eyeful of his collarbone. The blindfold is gone too, those hauntingly blue eyes of him out in full force. You have no doubt that this fucker is doing this all on purpose. He grins at you, looking offensively smug, victorious even.

"...and good thing I can't,” you finally retort, feeling vicious at the sight of him, “because even a peek of that and I think I'd go permanently blind."

[ciwzing]

childe as your bf (smau / fem! reader)

bf childe who's so fucking insufferable but god does he treat you so good

gf reader who just wants to be treated good and bf childe who treats you more than good, giving you the princess treatment and everything.

bf childe who doesn't fail to spoil you and pay for anything if it involves you and sweet pretty you who doesn't fail to complain.

"Ajax if you keep this up people would think I'm only with you for your money"

"Well I have the money for it can't blame you priness" He finds it nothing more than amusing when you make such a big fuss about what other people think it's cute how you care about what others says when in fact he couldn't give a single shit, so what if you're using him just for his money atleast you can make a use of him 😽

Some may call him a simp or down bad but he doesn't take offense to it, though he prefers calling it him being devoted to you.

bf childe who always post your pictures on all his socials with the cheesiest and sappy captions known to man.

bf childe who's your also personal photographer, the first thing he does when there's a beautiful view or lightning is to fetch his phone and take a picture of you doesn't matter if you're unaware of the camera focused on you, hell he thinks candid photos is better because it really captures the moments.

bf childe that always have a seperate calendar to take notes on the flowers he gives you to know when the flowers wilt just for him to give you another set of expensive flowers

bf childe that teases you for being eager and impatient when the both of you guys kissed when in fact he's the eager one.

"so aggressive princess, you want me that bad?"

"shut up and keep kissing me"

bf childe who keeps chasing your lips when you pull away from the kiss, his eyes painted with love still in dazed from the kiss the both of you shared.

bf childe that only grinned cockily when other men approach you thinking they have a chance just for them to be shut down when he gave you a lingering kiss on the side of your neck and lead you to walk pass by them with an arm around your waist, not forgetting to purposely bumped his shoulder to the guy and let out a snicker just to add a little bit of salt on the wound, not uttering a single word when his distaste is enough

just bf childe that's a menace to everyone except for his pretty spoiled princess.

✉️ Notes: i may or may not got carried away 🤭 someone requested this but ig Tumblr deleted their ask😭 (send an ask or comment here if you want to be added with this type of posts of mine)

[happy74827]

Just Words

[Siobhan Roy x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: Words can be hurtful (especially to most) but with Siobhan’s “5-star” personality and ability to not care about anything other than herself, you can’t help BUT spill some words. {GIF Creds: @olliviacooke// I took this off of google (fair warning) so I had to dig deep to find the OP}

WC: 2274

Category: Slight Fluff (?), Enemies to… trope {Trigger Warning: Foul Language (I really channeled the Roy family here), Logan}

I did not expect my first succession fic to be Siobhan… but honestly, I’m not complaining 👀 (fyi: this was a request and I stupidly forgot to “answer” so hopefully the anon who requested lovely Shiv finds this 💀)

『••✎••』

Siobhan Roy… mega bitch. You hated her. Well, that might be an understatement; you despised her. From the moment you met her, she was just a total and complete pain in your ass. Not to mention completely and utterly self-absorbed. She had the attitude and ego of a child.

So when you were made to work with her, you were less than pleased. Logan Roy, the only man who could top Siobhan in terms of being an insufferable asshole, had made you a deal. If you and Siobhan worked together to find a solution to the media shitstorm he was currently experiencing, he would put you on the team that handled the IPO of Waystar. It was the opportunity you had been waiting for, so you sucked it up and agreed.

You and Siobhan sat in the meeting, both of you looking like a pair of miserable children. It made Roman look like a ray of sunshine, and that was really saying something.

Logan slammed the door, causing you to flinch.

"Fuck," he said, taking his seat.

"What?" asked Siobhan, a tinge of irritation in her voice. It’s amazing how her mood could shift on a dime.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired of this fucking circus."

"Well, what the fuck do you expect? You made a public promise. If you can't make good on it, why not just say so? Why continue this fucking farce?"

Logan narrowed his eyes at her.

"If I wanted to hear that, Siobhan, I would have gone to my wife's bed. I don't need a cunt in my ear right now."

Siobhan rolled her eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ. I'm a realist. You're the one who wants to live in your fantasy world. Just fucking drop the bomb, tell the truth, and let's move on."

"The truth? And what is the truth? That my son’s a psychotic, drug-addled mess? That Kendall is a sniveling, entitled little fuck? A pathetic, whiny, little shit stain who can't do his job because he's too busy jerking himself off to his own sob story? Is that the truth you want to set free?"

Siobhan stared him down, and once again, you were surprised. You had thought the woman was completely brazen, but there were still limits.

"I'm not your therapist," she said.

"No. You're not. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to a woman with the emotional range of a fucking teaspoon telling me how to handle this situation. Now, I need to get on the phone with my PR team. Fuck off, all of you. Get back to work."

You and Roman both jumped up, quickly leaving the room. Once you were safely away from Logan, you took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered, "I don't know how she does it."

Roman smirked, "Oh, she's a special snowflake—a real ball buster. You should see her with Tom. It's a fucking bloodbath."

“Tell me about it. It’s a raging dumpster fire, even saying more than two words to her. I feel like she's going to snap my head off any minute. I’m so tired of her bullshit, and she's the least of my worries. The whole family is a fucking disaster. And I don't have time for any of it…. No offense.”

Roman gave you a half smile. "None taken. You're right; I'm the best of a very bad lot."

"Well, at least you're self-aware."

“You fuckers talking shit about me behind my back?"

You turned and saw Shiv leaning against the wall.

"Always," replied Roman. "And it's fucking hilarious."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she said, rolling her eyes. Her eyes then shifted to you.

"I didn't realize we were having a fucking slumber party."

"Just having a bit of a break," you said.

"Oh, well, that's very fucking nice. I'm glad everyone is taking a fucking break because I've been dealing with our father, who is a raging psycho at the moment. You know, while the rest of you are fucking around, the company is dying. It's falling apart, and everyone is too fucking busy to give a shit."

"Come on, Shivvy. Take a breather. You’re starting to act like Kendall… and that's never a good look," said Roman.

"Fuck off, Ro.”

Shiv glared at him, then glanced back at you. The glare made you want to hide, but you refused to show fear in front of her. You had done it in the past, and it only fed her.

"Well," she said, "aren't you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there with your mouth open like an idiot?"

"I think I'll take option B. I'd like to live through this," you replied.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I think it's pretty clear."

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I guess I shouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

"Someone like me?"

“Shiv,” warned Roman, trying to interject. Personally, despite his whacked-out sense of humor, you actually enjoyed his company. He was definitely the least obnoxious of the Roy siblings. “Let’s not get into this now, okay? Just drop it."

"No. No, go ahead, Shiv. Let's have it out. Right here, right now. Let's see if you can handle it."

Shiv stared at you for a few moments, then she smiled. It wasn’t her usual smug, condescending grin. It was different, almost sincere.

"You think you're tough?" she asked.

"No. I know I am. It's a little different, don't you think?"

"Okay," she replied, her eyes darkening. She leaned forward, her face just inches from yours. Roman just looked at the two of you as if watching a tennis match. "You're so sure you can handle me. So why don't you prove it?"

"Prove it? Like, what, punch you in the face? Is that what you want?"

"Although, as satisfying as that sounds, I was thinking we all should just move on… maybe have a drink, talk it over? Yeah? No?”

Shiv just looked at you. "Yeah, I'll pass. I'm not here to make friends, and I'm certainly not here to kiss your ass."

"That's good. Because, honestly, I don't see you as the ass-kissing type. Tom, yes. You? Not a chance. You're the type who wants everything to be handed to you on a silver platter. I'm sorry, but I'm not the maid. I'm not going to serve you or kiss your ass. I'm here because I have a job to do, and I intend to do it. That's it.”

"Oh, right. I see. Well, then, why don't we cut the bullshit and just get right to it. How about you go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of and let the real people get on with things."

“Guys-” Roman started.

"Real people? Real people? You think you're real? You think this is real? I hate to break it to you, Siobhan, but you're not a princess, and this isn't a fairy tale. You're not the queen. Your father isn't the king. You're a spoiled brat, and he's… well, he’s Logan. He's not even a king. He's just a bully."

"Is that supposed to hurt me? To insult me?"

"No, but you seem like the kind of person who doesn't take criticism well. You’re doing a terrible job.”

Shiv stared at you, her lip curled up in disgust. She looked as if she were about to hit you, but the rage was just a facade.

"Well," she finally said, "It's a good thing we're not here to play fucking games, then. So why don't you shut the fuck up and get back to work? Unless, of course, you don't think you can handle it. Maybe you should just go back to where you came from, and let the real people get on with things."

Your nostrils flared. It took every ounce of strength in you not to smack the look off her face. But you knew better. If you started a fight, Logan would take your head off, and that was a fight you couldn't win. So, instead, you smiled.

"Fine," you said. "If that's what you want. I'll do my job, and you do yours. But, just remember, the day is coming when this little charade is going to come to an end, and when it does, it's going to be a lot worse than it is right now."

You didn't wait for her reply. Instead, you turned and walked away, leaving the two of them standing in the hallway.

Once you were back in the safety of your office, you collapsed into your chair and let out a sigh. You had just gotten your first taste of a Roy fight, and it was worse than you had anticipated. The worst part was Siobhan had gotten the last word. It didn't matter that you might’ve won. She had gotten the last good word, and you hated her for it.

As the hours ticked by, you became more and more frustrated. You were angry and bitter. You were pissed at yourself for letting Shiv get under your skin, and you were angry at her for getting to you.

So, when your phone rang and you saw her name, you were tempted to ignore it. You let it ring for a few seconds, then decided to answer.

"Yes?” Your attitude was short.

"Get your shit together," she snapped. “We have a meeting in five minutes. We have a lot of ground to cover."

That was, in fact, false. By the time you arrived, the conference room was deserted, and only Shiv remained. She was sitting at the table, her laptop open in front of her.

"What the hell?" you demanded.

"I'm sorry. Did you want a fucking audience? Because that can be arranged. But, if you don't mind, I would prefer not to have any interruptions."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that we are both here, and we have a job to do. Now, either sit down and help me, or fuck off. I really don't give a shit."

You stared at her, and she looked up from her laptop, raising an eyebrow. There was no audience, and there wasn’t going to be one. So, you had two options. Either walk away and look like an idiot, or stay and possibly get chewed out again. You took a deep breath and sat down.

Shiv just hummed in response, then looked back at her screen. "Good choice."

For the next couple of hours, the two of you worked together, trying to figure out a way to turn the situation around. Arguments arose, shots were fired, and at one point, Shiv threatened to kick you out, but overall, it was a productive session. Logan wouldn’t be pissed, so that was a win.

"So," Shiv said as the two of you left the building, "Did you cool down?"

"What?"

"I'm asking if you cooled down. Do you feel better now?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I? You know, besides the fact that we were at each other's throats for hours and the fact that we both wanted to kill each other. I'm peachy."

"Mm, peachy." She said the word like it was an insult. "That's a strange choice of words, don't you think?”

“What? The real people don’t use the word peachy, huh? Is it beneath you, Shiv? Do you only use fancy words and proper grammar?"

"Oh, I can be a real commoner when the situation calls for it. It's all about knowing your audience."

"Really? So, is this the commoner Shiv? Should I expect a new side of you?"

"Maybe.” She smiled oddly again. The one that made you nervous. "Maybe not. That depends on you. Do you want to know the real me?"

"No, not particularly."

"Good. Because I'm not interested in showing you. I’m just curious if you have what it takes."

"To what, put up with your bullshit? To put up with a spoiled brat who thinks the world is hers for the taking? Mmm, yeah, I think I've got what it takes."

"Okay, first off, fuck you. Second, you're a piece of shit. Third, I have something to tell you. So, listen up. This is important. Okay, ready?"

You were about to say something, but her expression stopped you. Her voice was low, her tone serious. You nodded.

"I'm a bitch. And, yeah, I have a temper, and I'm not a warm and fuzzy kind of girl. But, that's the thing, I don't need to be. I don't need to pretend that I'm anything other than who I am. I don't have to fake it because I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it. That’s what you need to understand. It's not about what you think you need. It's about what you want and what you're willing to do to get it."

You just stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"So, let me ask you, what do you want? And are you willing to do what it takes to get it?"

You thought about it for a second. "I want a drink. A strong one."

A little comedy never hurt anyone. And judging by her expression, you could tell you had made her smile.

"Well, that's a start." Siobhan had a smirk on her face. "Alright, fine. Let's get that drink. Then we'll see how far that gets you."

"Yeah," you muttered, "I'm sure."

But, as you walked down the street, you couldn't help but think about the question. What did you want?

And what was Siobhan offering?

[banjomelodies]

Aw MAN tiktok mischaracterizes Scaramouche so much. Specifically as Wanderer (I sometimes see it with Scaramouche too).

(TW as I do mention abusive topics)

I've genuinely seen people go full force on the "oh, Wanderer would bully my whole team. Wanderer would be so mean! Wanderer—" and it's just. NO? Wanderer is a significantly mellowed out Scaramouche. If anything he wouldn't entirely give a damn about anyone he works with as long as they aren't ridiculously insufferable or take personal offense to what he calls brutal honesty. Instead of him literally physically harming or abusing the people who annoy him (like he would as the Balladeer), he just says a snarky comment. Like, I'm sorry, I don't think he's going to beat up your Freminet, or Mika.

Scaramouche is the type who would snap on one of them, especially since as the Balladeer, he saw little to no worth in humans (i mean come on, he turned on his two fatui agents in an instant when they said one thing that angered him. He was also implied a lot of the time to be an insufferable Harbinger). Wanderer is not the same. Wanderer probably still has a deep-rooted disdain, yes, it'd be hard to fully overcome something he believed in for so many decades, but he's well past taking his frustrations out on other people like that. He's literally trying to AMEND the horrific actions he's done. He wouldn't add more to it. Not to mention, he likely has a promise made to Nahida, who was willing to help him, to try his best to grow and change as a person, even if he doesn't think he can.

Now talking about Scaramouche in general, people amp up Scaramouches more toxic traits by twenty notches. Scaramouche is a toxic person. I will fully admit that. When I consider how lower Fatui agents act around him, he's definitely an awful person. But on the same hand, I don't think he'd be the sort who'd be abusive in romantic encounters. You're telling me, this man who was desperate for love and admiration and acceptance, would be beating and killing anyone who even dates him? Personally, I don't think so. I feel like he'd unintentionally be a bad partner. Perhaps saying things he shouldn't, or being distant, as he hasn't experienced anything positive or real since he was the Kabukimono. The Harbingers are all fake to eachother, so it's not like he's really used to having to be fully himself with another person. But I don't think he'd beat or maim his partners.

Maybe I'm blinded by my adoration for this character, but, I just don't get how some people look at him and go "Yeah that man would absolutely BEAT that traumatized teenager standing next to him for breathing the wrong way."

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Safe Haven (4)

Soldier Boy X Fem!Paramedic!Reader

Summary: You and Ben have been bonding for a few days, but after a scare, you both have an important conversation

Warnings: Foul language, talks of PTSD, some slapping (not from ben), angst, this is literally the slowest of burns, eventual smut, so minors dni, Soldier Boy bc he's a warning on his own

Like I've said before I write sb as less insufferable and horrible, he's still a dick but he's warming up to reader so he's nicer

WC: 3.2k

A/N: I AM SO SORRY. I know I left this tory forgotten for a year, and that's so not fair to you guys, and I am truly sorry for it. I've never been good at finishing my series. I tend to get blocked in the middle and I'm never able to get past it. But I started rewatching s3 again and decided to give this series a second try. And I think I have a much clearer idea of how to proceed from where I left off. I just always have a hard time with the middle. But I will do my best to not leave this series unfinished because yall were more than supportive to it and it's not fair to just leave you hanging. So if you stuck around thank you.

Next part | Series Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

The last thing you expected to wake up to was the smell of freshly brewed coffee and Ben, in the kitchen, actually cooking something. You were still a bit out of it from sleep when you walked into the kitchen, but you stopped dead in your tracks and your eyes grew at the sight of him, frown plastered on his face as he stood with a pan in his hand. You blinked a couple of times and snorted in disbelief. 

“Since when do you cook?” You asked as you moved to stand beside him, slightly tilting your head as you looked at the slightly burnt sandwich on the pan. “If that’s what you would call cooking.”

“Fuck off,” He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed like he took offense to your words as he grabbed the sandwich from right out of the pan and took a bite out of it. His face remained in a frown, lips pursed into a displeased grimace. “I got hungry and you were still in your room, so I improvised.” 

Well at least you appreciated him not barging into your room so you would cook for him. After you went off on him the other night he gave you space, he was just as flirty and inappropriate, but respected your space and wouldn’t antagonize you much. If he could do something on his own he would, but was still silently grateful if you ever did anything for him. And much to his surprise, you still allowed him to stay, for some reason. But he didn’t mind it. And honestly, you didn’t mind his presence either, if anything he was pretty bearable most of the time. 

“Does that not burn?” You asked, eyeing him with big eyes as you turned the stove off and placed the pan on the sink. 

He shrugged, “The Russians burned me with flamethrowers the size of your head for fun, so no, this doesn’t burn.” 

You stared at him blankly, lips slightly parted as you tried to process his words. 

“Right..” You simply shook your head, not even wanting to inquire further. You were about to walk away when you heard him say your name. 

“That’s for you,” He said, pointing at the glass mug you usually use for your coffee, droplets of water already pooling around it like it had been sitting there for a little while. You looked between the glass of coffee on the counter and him, confused. 

“You made me coffee?” You asked slowly, squinting at him with confusion. He grabbed a glass of his own from the counter next to the stove and he nodded as he drank from it. 

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

You grabbed it and hesitantly took a sip from it, eyes widening in surprise. It didn’t taste half bad. So he wasn’t entirely useless. 

“I don’t know. I mean, you cooked and you made me coffee,” You said slowly and paused, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously, “What do you want? Is this your way of convincing me to fuck you?”

He laughed at that, tongue running over his pink lips playfully and an equally playful glint in his eyes, but he shook his head, “No…” His lips curved into a small smirk as he stood in front of you, leaning down close to your face. “Is it working?”

You took a deep breath, eyes wandering to the side to avoid his. You'd be lying if you said you hadn’t considered it. In the days he had been pretty much hiding in your house, you had grown to like his company, when he wasn’t being a dick of course. And he was irresistibly attractive in more ways you would like to admit. But you knew better than to let him in your bed. 

“You wish.” You moved away from him and hopped on the kitchen island as you sipped your coffee, your face already flushing with heat, though you were glad he couldn’t see that. 

“You know the offer is always on the table if you change your mind darlin’.” He winked, lips curled into a smirk as he drank from his coffee. You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

“How did you even manage to get the coffee machine on? I’ve seen the way you look at my phone, it’s like your brain is computing. Technology isn’t your thing.”

His face turned blank and his lips fell into a flat line, jaw slightly twitching, like he was not amused by your comment in the slightest bit.

“You can suck my dick, thank you. For your fucking information I’m not that stupid. I’ve seen you make coffee every morning for almost a week, I can manage to make some goddamn coffee.” 

You were trying your hardest not to laugh, you had to close your eyes and exhale through your nose so you wouldn’t laugh at his clearly offended tone. And when you opened your eyes to look at him, he looked anything but amused. 

“Jeez alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s not the worst coffee I’ve had, so.” Your lips curved into a half smile and he rolled his eyes. 

“That’s how you like it right? Iced, a bit of cream and caramel?” 

“Yeah, actually.” You said with a half smile, surprised he actually seemed to have remembered that, most guys you've dated wouldn't have bothered to remember even after months.

He smirked almost proudly and he hummed as he stood in front of you, and had your legs been open, he probably would’ve stood right in between them. You straightened your back as you looked up at him with curiosity. 

“That’s a good girl. I like a girl who knows her stuff.” The words rolled off his tongue so naturally and yet so breathtakingly hot it made you inhale sharply. He knew what he was doing to you when he did things like that, and the worst part was that he would often just walk off, almost as if he was hoping you would chase him. Which you never did, as much as a part of you wished you did. “I’m a pretty quick learner, I can do things just the way you like ‘em, you just have to ask.” 

And with that he walked off, smug smirk full on his lips at the sound of your sharp breaths and quickly beating heart. Your sanity and modesty could only last so long if he kept this up. And honestly, you didn’t see it stopping anytime soon. 

~~~~~~~~~~

You blew out an annoyed sigh as you padded down the hall from your room to your living room, the persistent sound of Ben calling your name nonstop having pulled you out of your own space. 

“Dude what.” You sighed out as you stood with your arms crossed and looked down at him. He was sprawled out on the couch, an arm behind his head. For a second your eyes drifted to his bicep under the soft fabric of the henley you had given him, and you had to force yourself to look at his face instead.

“What are you fucking deaf? I’ve been calling you for like five minutes.”

“Yes Ben I heard you the first five fucking times you screamed my name. I was busy. What do you want that is so urgent and you can’t do yourself?” You asked, leaning your weight into one heel. 

“Do you have any drugs?” He deadpanned, not bothering to take his eyes from the TV. You stared at him, blinking a couple times. 

“What?”

“What I said. Do you have any reefer or benzos or some shit like that?” He turned his head to look at you this time, face completely serious. 

“Uh.. No? What the fuck do you want drugs for?” You asked, rubbing the side of your face, still trying to process his request. 

He ran a hand over his face, fingers threading through his hair and he sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling before speaking.

“I need something to help me take the edge off. I’m constantly restless, I always have this feeling like I’m going to punch a hole through a wall, I can’t sleep and I didn’t feel that way when I was fucking high all the time, so.” He said with complete honesty, he was serious too. 

Your lips slightly parted as you thought about it for a second. You guessed it made sense. If he did have PTSD weed probably would help him relax. You knew that feeling pretty well. You sympathized with him even. 

"Yeah okay. I know a guy." You finally said.

Ben gave you a surprised look, his eyebrows slightly raised. He definitely didn't take you for the drug type. But then again, maybe you liked to feel numb sometimes, too. 

"Thanks sweetheart." 

"Sure." You gave him a half nod as you glanced at your phone. "Listen, I'm gonna go out for a bit. I'm gonna buy some groceries and stuff. Stay here? Please. Your face is still all of over downtown. And with the whole Homelander Starlight bullshit I just don't think it's safe." 

"Aww sweetheart, you worried about me now?" He sat up with a shit eating smirk that made your roll your eyes. 

"Not particularly. It'd be less money I'd have to spend if you weren't here actually." He shot up an eyebrow with disdain and scoffed at you, making you grin. "I mean it, after what Homelander did in plain daylight, nobody's safe." 

"What did that fucker do this time?" He asked, his tone suddenly changing and he sat up straight. 

"Didn't you see? Oh yeah, you don't even own a phone." You sighed, "Homelander lasered a guy at some form of public event. The guy wasn't a criminal, he wasn't dangerous, he was just telling Homelander the truth to his face. So he killed the guy." 

"In plain daylight? You're kidding." 

"I fucking wish. I saw the video, it was all over Twitter before it got taken down. The worst part, everyone there cheered him on. He murdered an innocent person and everyone praised him for it. It was terrifying." 

Ben sat in silence for a long minute, even after you were done speaking. His lips were parted but he never spoke. That was his son. His only son. He couldn't say he was a saint, he knew he had done plenty of wrongs, unforgivable things, but he had never killed a person without reason. Let alone an innocent person. He was disgusted, digusted that his own flesh and blood could do something so horrible. Disgusted that Vought made him that way. He couldn't live knowing Homelander was still out there like this. He had to end this. One way or another. 

~~~~~~~~~

"Ben!" You called out loudly as you kicked your front door open, struggling to carry the multiple bags you so wrongly assumed you could carry on your own. You groaned loudly, the one time you needed this motherfucker. "Ben you useless asshole I need your super strength!" 

Still nothing. 

"I cannot with this motherfucker…" You muttered angrily to yourself as you pretty much dropped the bags on the floor. 

You left the door open since you still had more bags in your car but you wanted to find him first. You called his name a few more times as you walked around your farmhouse. He sure wasn't downstairs. You went up to the second floor, maybe he was in the guest bedroom, he slept there sometimes. 

Still no Ben. 

You stood in the middle of the hall with a frown on your face. Your stomach twisted with uneasiness. Your palms began to sweat cold as you thought the worst. God, where could he have gone? He clearly didn't know his way around town, he had no car. And worst of all he was still wanted by FBSA and now the CIA as well in a joint task force. 

He was gone. He was actually gone. 

What was this feeling? You felt sick and lightheaded, and your heart was racing. You leaned against a wall as you took deep breaths. Were you actually upset he was gone? Was this worry and panic you were feeling? Your mind was racing with every possibility, the next being worse than the previous. Maybe he got hurt? Or worse, maybe he blacked out and hurt somebody else again. God, why didn't he listen to you? 

You were drowned in your own worry when you heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. You straightened up, afraid someone had come for you, another supe, or the cops. You had been aiding a known fugitive afterall. 

You didn't know how long it had been, but you heard your name. It was his voice. 

"There you are. You okay? Why is the front door wide open?" Ben stopped at the top of the stairs, eyes furrowed into a worried expression. 

You didn't realize you had been holding your breath. And you felt like you could breathe again. But the knot in your stomach was quickly replaced by your blood boiling. God, how could he just walk in like that? Did he not realize how worried you had been?

You were worried about him.

You hadn't worried about anyone since—

You didn't think, you simply marched in front of him and your flat palm collided with his cheek. You were so fucking furious with him.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you leave without saying anything? Are you so reckless and careless that you didn't stop to think you're literally the most wanted Supe right now?" You were shouting at him, shoving at his chest like it was going to do anything. The man didn't even move. He was stunned, surprisingly not angry. If anything seeing you like this turned him on.

"Jesus Christ, woman, can I tell you my safeword first?" He scrunched up his face a bit. He didn't feel your slap. It didn't even leave a tingle, but it was more so the fact that you had the guts to do so. You glared at him and smacked his chest one last time before you crossed your arms over your chest, face fixed tight and fuming. "Why are you so angry? I wasn't gone long." 

Did he seriously not realize?

"Why? Why am I so angry?" You repeated his question with disbelief. "Maybe because you could've gotten hurt out there or arrested! Or worse you could've—" You stopped, catching yourself before you said the words.

Ben raised an eyebrow at you, sensing the heat in your words, and he gave you a half nod of his head, knowing what it was you didn’t dare to say. 

"I could've what? Go on say it. If you had the balls to smack me then have the balls to finish that sentence." 

"You could've hurt someone." You finally said after a few seconds of silence, your voice much quieter now. 

"Right, 'cause I'm the brainwashed terrorist supe who just loves to blow people the fuck up, is that it?" He lowered himself to get in your face, his words accusatory, but also hurt by your accusation. You didn't to outright say it for him to know what you meant. Everyone else seemed to think so anyway. You avoided his eyes, mouth closed. "What? You got nothing to say now?" 

"I don't know! You're unpredictable, your powers are unpredictable. I'm not saying you meant to hurt those people, but you did Ben, I saw it. I saw all of it. It wasn't fucking pretty and I just—" You swallowed, closing your eyes, frustrated with yourself. Why were you so upset about this? About him? "I know you don't want any more of that on your conscience."

Ben stared at you for a long while, lips pressed together, and his jaw ticked with frustration, but he didn't snap at you. He just sighed. 

"I didn't hurt anyone. I just.. I can't keep hiding here with you when Homelander is out there. I just can't." He finally said, his voice strained with emotions you just couldn't quite understand. "I went to see an old friend from Vought. I needed to know what was going on. I need to do something. But I'm…" 

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing and lips pursing as he tried to say his next words, like it was hard for him to do so. You met his eyes this time, expectant. 

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I didn't think… To be honest with you I don't know why you care but I'm glad you do. So I'm sorry." He breathed out the words with his chest, like he was lifting a ton of bricks off his chest and he could breathe. 

Your eyes grew in size at his seemingly sincere apology. He had never sounded so genuine, he had never looked so much either. But he was, his green eyes were big and apologetic, and there was no smug smile, no grins, just a flat line and his big eyes. 

"I'm sorry for hitting you. I was just worried. I thought something might’ve happened." You sighed, giving him an apology of your own, which he welcomed with a tiny smile and nod. "But I... Fuck, I'm still worried about what you're doing. Homelander is extremely dangerous, Ben. I don't think you should get yourself in more trouble than you already are." 

Ben would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised by your concern, it made him feel strange, actually. No one had actually shown him such selfless care before. Everyone always needed something from him or were just pretending to care for him. But no you. Everything you had done for him you had done because you wanted to, not because you had to. And he still didn't know why. 

"Listen darlin', I can't tell you much, but I can tell you this— I had a mission before you found me. I started something and now I need to finish it." You frowned even more, and he couldn't help but reach his fingers to smooth the tight lines above your brow, and for some reason, you let him. "I have done some pretty bad shit, I'm not gonna lie about that, but if I can do one good thing by killing that motherfucker, I will. I can't just sit here while he's out there doing God knows what and with nobody to tell him otherwise." 

"I don't know what it is that you got yourself into, or that you got me into, but we're here now. I just ask you that you tell me what's going on. I think I've proven to you that you can trust me." You finally said with a long breath, but you still felt that pressure on your chest. "Do what you gotta do, just be careful." 

His lips curved up into a small smile. A genuine smile. He hesitated at first, but something in his chest told him to do it. You had already slapped him once anyway. He closed his eyes for just a second and leaned down, his lips touching your forehead ever so slightly. 

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. There's nothing that fucker can do that hasn't already been done to me before. I'll be okay." 

He'll be okay as long as you let him stay because somehow, you have been the only thing keeping him sane.

[vinghen-tmblr]

This is nice

Random fluff scene, probably act 3, no spoilers, The Game no more

In a quiet moment after their travels led them to a peaceful glade, Astarion and Elowen found themselves enjoying a rare respite. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves overhead created a soothing melody.

Seated on a soft blanket spread beneath a sprawling tree, Astarion leaned back, propped up on his elbows, and observed the serene surroundings. Elowen, beside him, was engrossed in her leather-bound journal, her quill dancing across the pages as she recorded their recent adventures.

Astarion couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest as he watched her. The glint of the sunlight catching the strands of her hair, the soft curve of her smile when something amusing caught her eye—it all fascinated him. For someone who had spent centuries detached and cynical, he found a strange sense of joy in these moments.

Setting aside her journal, Elowen looked at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "What's on your mind, Astarion?"

He smirked, a mischievous spark in his crimson eyes. "Just contemplating the mysteries of the universe, my dear."

Elowen chuckled, playfully nudging him. "I highly doubt that. Care to share these mysteries with me?"

Astarion's smirk softened into a genuine smile. "Perhaps the greatest mystery is how I find myself enjoying these peaceful moments with you. I never thought I'd appreciate the simple beauty of a quiet glade."

Elowen's expression shifted to a warm smile. "People change, Astarion. Even vampires, it seems."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you implying I was insufferable before?"

She laughed, a melodious sound that seemed to harmonize with the rustling leaves. "Maybe just a little. But you've grown on me."

Astarion pretended to be wounded. "Grown on you? I'll have you know I am an acquired taste, much like fine wine."

She rolled her eyes, but the affectionate glint remained. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a taste for the unconventional."

The banter continued, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the glade,

Astarion found himself embracing the simplicity of the moment, grateful for the company of someone who had become more than just a fellow traveler—a confidant, a friend and someone he deeply cared about.

This...

...this was nice.

[rybonucleic-ket]

jack sparrow x male reader

because pirates were historically renowned gays and there's not enough fruity captain jack sparrow out there and jack's fucking hot

Captain Jack Sparrow x M!Reader

fluffy smut (pretty neutral language for smut, can be read by both cis and trans guys)

I will never use the term y/n in any of my writing if I have any say in the matter.

NSFW, 18+, minors dni

~~~

It's not uncommon for you to wind up in the Captain's quarters as night sets in. In fact, it's become a nightly routine. No ladies on the ship, you figured, the man's gotta get release somewhere. You're just glad he chose you.

Jack pulls you into his arms as soon as you close the door, burying his face in your neck, breathing you in. "Hey, love," he murmurs into your skin.

"Evenin', captain," you whisper back.

He hums against your neck, pulling you impossibly closer, bringing you flush against his chest. Just holding you, savoring your presence. That made you feel things. Well, Jack Sparrow makes you feel a lot of things, but loving, domestic touching made you hopeful. Hope is a dangerous thing. You were so sure that you were purely for release, considering the lack of women. There was no way the Captain could feel any different, you were a man.

"I do wish you wouldn't do that, Captain."

"Do what, sweetheart?"

"Hold me like that. it's not entirely fair for you to get my hopes up."

Jack pulled back to look you in the eyes, confused, still holding you. "Love, what'd ya mean? get your hopes up for what?"

"I know you only want me for the lack of girls, 's not quite fair for you to hold me so. bit misleading."

Jack laughed softly. "Darling, what are you on about? I've never seen a lady as beautiful as you. Don't go talking like you're some sort of placeholder," Jack smirked. "And I'm fairly sure you're just as smitten for me."

You scoff in mock offense. "That's quite presumptuous of you, captain."

He laughs, "Oh, is it now?" He scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his bed. "Well, since you're so sure I'd never fancy a man, guess I've gotta show you otherwise, savvy?"

You hum in affirmation.

"What's that, love? can't hear you." His voice is low, bordering on a growl.

You sigh at him. "Well, yes, captain, I s'pose you ought."

To your surprise, he simply hums and snuggles up behind you, kissing the back of your neck.

That fucker. you desperately wanted to cherish your wholesome little moment with Jack, but he'd riled you up, and if the tightness of his pants and the very slight, barely noticable way he was trying to restrain himself from grinding into you was any indication, he was as well. Captain Jack Fucking Sparrow for ya. Insufferable. Incredibly hot. Unbearably loveable.

You press yourself back against him, clutching at his hands around your waist, biting back desperation. "Jack, please."

"Please what, pretty boy?" You can feel him grin against the back of your neck. Fucking prick.

"I want- I need you. please."

Jack sighs dramatically. "Well, y'know, I was planning on just holding you in the way that makes you feel special, but uh," his voice drops, "I'd probably give you anything if you asked like that so.." his breath was hot on the side if your neck. "By all means."

He'd flipped you over to have you on his lap faster than you could say 'savvy'. His hand made its way to the hair at the back of your neck, guiding your head to give him easier access to your mouth. He grinned against your lips at the noise you made when he tightened his grip on your hair, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the flesh. He kissed you hard, occasionally whispering your name into the kiss. You relished the groan you got from grinding down on his lap; from your current position, it was obvious he was just as turned on as you were, bucking his hips up slightly to meet yours.

"fuck, Jack-"

"'M here, love. How'd you wanna take me, hm?"

"Don't care, you choose, I just- I need-"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I've got you." He gripped the back of your thighs, tilting you down until your back met the bedsheets, legs still wrapped around his hips. He gently parted your legs, the two of you gradually undressing each other between kisses.

He let out a sigh of awe once you were fully undressed. "Fuck, look at you, darling. Beautiful." he planted kisses on every inch of skin he could access. "I've no clue how you'd think you're a stand-in for anyone, such a pretty boy. Absolutely perfect, love."

If you weren't so incredibly turned on, the whimper you let out would've been embarrassing.

Jack saw your desperation as you fisted the sheets, and after getting the go-ahead, he set to work stretching you, making sure it'd hurt as little as possible. You writhed, back arching off the bed, moans escaping you that you could only hope the sound of the sea would drown out. Desperate, you pushed yourself back on his fingers.

"'m ready, please just- fuck, please, Jack."

Jack grabbed the oil from his bedside table, and you thought you'd never seen him lube up so fast

"oh fuck, Jack, please-"

He leans over you, tip pressed against your hole. "Please what, sweetheart?"

"please fuck me already, god-"

Jack smirks as he slides into you. "All you ever gotta do is ask, savvy?"

But the only noise you were producing were moans, strings of curses, and breathless calling of Jack's name.

As he picks up his pace, he practically growls in your ear, "Some day, I'll fuck you like this against the wheel of the Pearl. watch your back arch off the wood, into me." Jack brushes your hair out of your face. "Gonna love you so good."

As his thrusts grow more sporadic, Jack moans out a breathless "I love you." and that's what sends you over the edge. your vision goes white, your toes curl, your nails dig into Jack's shoulder blades as he spills inside you.

You're left shaking in Jack's arms, him running his hands through your hair, telling you how good you were for him. And that's how you drift to sleep, tangled with Captain Jack Sparrow, feeling more loved than you ever have before.

(it's on ao3)

[miko-magica]

I just want your love.

♡ - Synopsis : In which teen Diluc falls inlove yet he isn't sure how to express his feelings, making it so that it comes off as if he dislikes you. // Takes place before Crepus' passing.

♡ - Contains : Tsundere Diluc(?) | Fluff |Angst |gn!reader | Knights of Favonius Diluc & you | Romance | Unsaid words |

♡ - Note : Inspired by my 3 am thoughts !! (no joke it's literally three am lord help me)| This was originally supposed to be fluffy and cute like my other fics but I still don't have Diluc and I'm almost ar 60 so :(

"Hey! How'd your mission go? I heard you had to do it with Diluc" Kaeya said while putting an arm around your shoulder " Yes.. he was a bit rude. Maybe he just doesn't like me, I've heard he wasn't fond of new people.. but we've known eachother even as children." You say with a chuckle trying not to sound offensive towards Kaeya.

"Huh, Rude you say? I mean he's occasionally harsh here and there but rude? Care to give an example?" He said removing his arm around your neck while tilting his head and crossing his arms "Well, for starters.. he started saying quite rude things to me earlier such as; You're gross, You're insufferable or even swearing at me sometimes. I feel like I already have small to no chances of even being friends with him ever again, he's changed ever since I came back from Liyue. "

Kaeya let out a chuckle "Oh, Diluc. He just isn't good with these things but... Trust me he still likes you." He continued as he pats your shoulder then walks away "I'm pretty sure the last time he talked about you was him saying he wanted to be with you everyday, I don't think he hates you one bit .. you're both so dense." He whispered— barely audible, you couldn't hear him properly yet you managed to make out the words " hates and dense "

—

"You're so bad at making a move aren't you, Diluc." Kaeya asks with a sarcastic tone, Diluc turns his head towards his brother "...What do you mean?" He asks with a confused face even though he seems to know what Kaeya meant "Hm really? Your 'insufferable' knight? No?"

His face flushes,almost as if his face replicated his hair but his eyes were also filled with panic " Ah.. so what— They ARE insufferable—! I mean they almost got hurt and they still went for the kill how stupid! I.." he didn't finish his sentence and sighed heavily

"Already having fights? I thought we agreed in 'no fighting' when you became a knight." Crepus' voice scared the two boys who quickly faced their father. "Oh if it was a fight then I would've told you father—" Diluc starts " —But he's inlove" Kaeya cuts Diluc off with an energetic tone

With a quite shocked face, Crepus chuckles to himself "..Then you really shouldn't be saying those things if you're inlove with them. You might push them away Diluc." He sighs " No— I don't like them! Father..." Diluc retorts with his face heating up ever more slightly

"Young master Diluc? Your friend is here! They're looking for you. It seems quite important." Adelinde interrupts their conversation while Diluc nodded and excused himself

"Ah.." if it wasn't the person he was all flustered over, the person who he sees in the midst of the crowd— despite the commotion; your voice is the only thing he hears. " I brought you some of my cooking, I wanted to apologize for troubling you earlier in our mission. I know it was a foolish move, thank you for saving me, Diluc." You say with a gentle smile which he seemed to despise— but in his eyes you were more than beautiful, his brows furrowed even more trying to conceal his redness and embarrassment.

"..is something wrong? If you don't want it maybe Kaeya and Master Crepus would enjoy it? Apologies I wasn't really sure if this is still your favorite food, I remember you saying it was your favorite food a long time ago—" he takes the meal from your hands and opens his mouth to talk but no words escaped his mouth, he could barely utter a word Infront of you when your eyes shone perfectly with the sunset. With no further warning he nodded slightly and shut the door in your face.

He leaned on the door, the food against his chest with his face redder than his hair and his heart beating out of his chest. Adelinde was about to tell him how rude it was to shut the door in your face but Crepus and Kaeya stopped her, the three watched the redhead unable to muster up a word enough to thank you for your gift but he also felt bad for making you feel as if you were a burden and that an apology was in order, he opens the door quickly again only to see that you've wandered off.

A week passed and Diluc never really approached you, he avoided all contact with you. Sometimes you'd get a good look at him and feel like he doesn't really hate you, that he somehow has at the very least affection or liking for you, but that was nothing but delusion in your eyes, he avoided every single interaction. He acted as if he hated you, your guts, you as a person and no matter how much Kaeya reassures you that you're liked by Diluc in some way, he still makes you feel as if he's disgusted by the thought of you.

Your last mission with him came, Kaeya and Diluc became your partner for your mission. It was clearing out a camp of abyss mages. They've gathered up in one place and it has become a very huge inconvenience to people. You came to the scene and with ease, they were dealt with. Or was it? There was barely anything audible to you, you felt as if the man you have always adored saw you as a disgusting person— hell, he probably sees you as those type of people who throw themselves at him for his money and fame.

Going back to the headquarters, Kaeya had a lot to say, he tried to make you two talk. He tried to make Diluc muster up any bit of compliment just to keep your eyes bright like before. In truth, he wasn't the only one that noticed your eyes had gone dark. Everyone did, especially Diluc, he thought you hated being with him after how he's treated you these past few weeks. It was a never ending cycle, he makes a mistake, you try to make up for it, he doesn't tell you how he feels, you get distant, he wins you over and you go back to being yourself once more and then it repeats.

A day has passed since your mission, your things were packed, you visited the winery to bid goodbye to the man who treated you as his own child and the man who supported you with every small dumb decision you have ever made— and the most important man you have ever met, the man that changed your life, your view of love and affection.

Unfortunately, Diluc stood quiet during your goodbyes, he was behind Crepus and Kaeya who gave you a hug and bid Goodbye. He stood in the shadows unsure of what to do next, he stood unknowingly shedding a tear.

"Diluc, can we talk? Just us." You say as he nods and steps out of the winery with you, he stares at you with his ever so dead eyes.

"I have longed to tell you how I felt, how I always felt the need to impress you and how I—.. I want to tell you that you are the only reason I came back to Mondstat, the only reason I became a knight. Diluc I adore you, If I may—; love, even. Diluc I love you, I have for a very long time. All I ever wanted was to tell you yet you manage to somehow make me aware of your dislike of affection. I understand, I really do. It won't stop me from how I feel for you, but Diluc Ragvindr.. there is no point of me being here if it wasn't with you, if It wasn't by your side making you feel happy— if it wasn't with you, there is nothing in this world- in the whole of Teyvat that matters. So in other words, this is goodbye. Diluc, I hope you live a happy life and love someone you truly think is worthy and may they treat you how you deserve to be treated and may they love you as much as I do."

You waited for a brief moment for a response, you hoped.. atleast a bit, atleast a little bit that he would say he felt the same way yet he stood quiet. You chuckled to yourself as you felt your eyes welling up. "Goodbye, Diluc." You walk away with your things and your tears running down your face while Diluc stood in regret, his mouth could not conjure up anything, his body was frozen, his tongue was tied. His words were trapped in his throat and there was no way to get them out. He watched you walk away— you were too far, too far away from his reach. He felt his eyes water, and soon his tears were unstoppable, they felt like fire in his eyes. He wanted to chase after you, he wanted to move his body yet he was frozen in place, he was gone— you, were gone. And it was solely because of him, him not being able to express his love, his emotions.

To this day, he wishes that you would walk into his tavern, that you would come back and say you missed him. That you still loved him, but who was he to ask for that when he had long received your wedding invitation. Who was he to long for the love of someone he hurt and who was he to wish for you to ruin your perfect life with your partner now. He can only wish for you to live a happy life, much like what you wished for him though he knows deep down that no one could ever compare to you.

[baggebythesea]

What if character X became She-Ra?

Adora - the show

Glimmer - All the powers she ever dreamt on PLUS the political power as defacto leader of the princess alliance PLUS the one everyone looks up to for moral judgement calls and the one everyone expects to save them from all the ills of the world. I'm sure that responsibility and call to her overwhemling hubris won't target her crippling insecurities or anythying.

Bow - Wait, who's that masked stranger? It's BOW-RA! HERE TO SAVE YOU, CITIZEN. Plays really well at defence but not the offensive force for the Princess Alliance that Adora was. Also, you know how stressed he is to be the Friend Guy that tries to keep everything together? Now he's the friend-guy with the entire WORLD.

Catra - The Horde is fucking WRECKED in a week. Hordak is dead. Catra sits on the throne. Shadow Weaver… bows for Cat-Ra in deepest respect. She tells her that she was wrong to treat Catra the way she did. She always, secretly, respected Catra. She… YOINK! SWORD STOLEN! HAH, CAN'T BELIEVE YOU FELL FOR THAT.

Shadow Weaver - Run. Just run.

Angella - Finally she can keep everyone safe. The sound of cannons outside the wall? If she tries REALLY hard sometimes she can block that sound out.

Micha - Would turn out pretty much like Adora, I think.

Lonnie - the war is over in a day. I hope your opinion of "peace" is "magically enforced military dictatorship", because that's what you are getting - regardless of which side she is on.

Entrapta - SCIENCE! Forget heroics, someone just handed ENTRAPTA the master admin password for the entire PLANET! She can run Doom on this thing. Just look out for when she starts overclocking.

Mermista - SEA-RA! (Being a hero is too much like work, once the heroics grow stale. But everything considered the war wouldn't be TOO different from the main show. Also - Sea Hawk would be even more insufferable, singing her praise).

Perfuma - Good vibes for EVERYONE. She would try SO HARD to find peaceful solutions, but once in awhile give in to the temptation of hitting people with flowers.

Frosta - WINTER'S BANE WILL PUNCH EVERYONE UNTIL THE GROWNUPS STOP BEING IDIOTS ABOUT EVERYTHING!

Scorpia - Oh, gosh... um, sorry about breaking stuff?

Hordak - On no, magic is heretic. Not even Horde Prime… can… stand… against it… punches a hole in reality, stomps up to the Velvet Glove "HI FATHER-BROTHER, ARE YOU FINALLY PROUD OF ME?"

[helpfandom]

Yandere TAS! Riddler x Platonic Reader

Hcs under cut. If you're my bestie who told me to do this: <3

Reader just doesn't care in this one, they have been transformed by the Gotham-ite lifestyle of don't care, and as such, is a snarky little bitch to Riddler. Brat is in loose terms.

Why would he take interest you, well... He took interest because you were one of the few who didn't care for his antics, and were one of the fewer who could go toe to toe to him that weren't an enemy. Well, honestly, you didn't care about what he did and went on with your day, and with all that goes on in Gotham, how could you not?

The next part is that in order to get him to not interact with you, you would be a stupid little 'brat'. God, you were slightly insufferable to be around when Riddler would try to antagonize you. "Riddle me this, Riddle me that, why are you such a big 'brat'?"

He's definitely hacked into cameras to watch you interact with people, and once he found out that you interact with people differently than him, he takes it to heart, but in the way that he finds delight in you being a 'brat' to him. He notices that you only are that way to him, If you're only a brat to him, surely that means you're comfortable with him! ...Right?

Despite being 'super intelligent', Riddler is quite unperceptive about the fact that Reader dislikes/hates him. To you, this is just some weirdo on the street who likes to bombard people with riddles and take over Wall street for revenge. But soon you start to notice that he attacks more towards places you go to frequently and even people who, to your knowledge, haven't interacted or offended him. Of course, to him, interacting with his kid is a major offense, so he attacks your parents and friends, even a couple teachers who he thinks aren't teaching you well enough. "My, My, You simply don't have the brains for teaching my dear adolescent, perhaps I should remove it? Hmm?"

Because Reader can go 'toe to toe' with him [most of his riddles have multiple answers that he doesn't realize and when Reader points them out, he takes that as a sign of intelligence, and Reader being able to keep up with his 'genius'], he assumes that Reader has intelligence that can only match his, and as such, he must fuel this potential intelligence. [He means adopt you].

He definitely tries to kidnap you a lot, but with how much he has done schemes related to you, Batman (and maybe Robin if you're friends) already know and stop him.

Although, if he were to kidnap you, he would set up cameras everywhere THAT DOESN'T INTRUDE ON PRIVATE SPACE. So nothing in your bedroom or the bathroom. Everywhere else is free game though. Escape is possible, but unlikely, because of his many cameras and intelligence.

Although, he would fake the idea of an escape in order to test your intelligence, he would put a series of puzzles (Not riddles) and if you solve them all, he congratulates you. He finds a small bit of selfish pleasure in watching you fail to escape, and he thinks that escaping is a game for him, a fun thing for you to challenge his brain.

Absolutely has no idea how to take care of a kid though, so you're screwed if you're super young and don't know how to take care of yourself.

"Listen well, my dear adolescent. I will act as your father figure now. The rest of the society is too,, unintelligent to take care of minds like our own. I will hone your mind until we create father/kid pair the world has never seen!"

"Bro literally, I don't care, your riddles are stupid. Shut up."

"Oh, how I enjoy our banter."

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce III

I love Meryl so much. Imma talk about all the ways she's terrible.

First watching the show, I had her clocked pretty much from the moment she opened her mouth and the moment she first appeared on the screen.

Oh Lord. This child is insufferable.

She's twenty-three, just out of college, from a sheltered background, and determined to solve all the world's problems, but she'd have a much easier time of it if she weren't such a scold. She's prissy. She's judgemental. Because nothing in the world lives up to her standards, she's going to shout at it until it does. It's endearing now because she's so little and cute, but she will encounter someone unwilling to put up with it sooner or later, and she had better hope she survives that encounter to learn from it.

Reminder that her first appearance in the manga is striding onto the panel like a queen and then whipping out a megaphone to announce she's from the insurance society, like any of the people she's talking to have any reason to care. She's, uh. She's a real woman of conviction.

What makes this Meryl seem so young is that she still has a lot of faith in the rules, and that the way things should be is indeed the way they are. Why wouldn't she? Her family is wealthy, she just got out of school and this is her dream job. Her whole life so far has kept her cushioned from pain and consequences, as well what exists on the edge of society - violence, poverty, corruption - as well as the edges of her own reality - the truth about the Plants, the existential terror of a being like Knives, who so virulently hates her species and has the power to crush them at will, for any reason, at any time. And of a being like Vash, whose power is even greater, but whose appearance is so purposefully soft.

That dude she's yelling in the face of could vaporise the planet they're standing on, if he felt like it. He would never, but that doesn't change having that capacity, or that there are individuals who will do anything to obtain control of his power.

What makes Meryl such a fantastic character despite these flaws is that upon encountering proof of her ignorance, she doesn't double down. She's surprised, and often scared, but primarily she's saddened, or even outraged. Why is the world this way? What can she do about it? What action can she take?

That's the perfect trait for a journalist, and I also think the reason that Vash likes her - and Roberto, too. It's why both of them are determined to protect her, and Roberto comes to adopt (or perhaps reclaim) a little righteousness by her example.

She doesn't belong on No Man's Land, but then none of them do. No one wanted to be here. Nevertheless they are here.

What can they do together to make it a kinder world?

Also, one more thing.

There's an argument for how hard it is write female characters that the audience won't instantly loathe. It's called the Galbrush Problem, after a theoretical genderbend of Guybrush Threepwood from the Monkey Island series. They're point-and-click adventure games, and they're very silly - Guybrush's entire backstory, as far as we learn, is that he washed up on a beach in the Caribbean as a teenager with the burning ambition to be a pirate and no practical skills in the field whatsoever.

Sample dialogue:

Elaine: Ugh, let's face it, LeChuck! You're an evil, foul-smelling, vile, codependent villain, and that's just not what I'm looking for in a romantic relationship right now! LeChuck: Darn yer riddles, ye saucy female! What do ye mean?!

They're engaged in a high stakes sea battle at the time. Elaine is defending the port she governs from LeChuck's skeleton pirate crew. (Hauntingly realistic reaction to a woman's unambiguous rejection from LeChuck, though.)

Anyway the Galbrush Problem suggests that a Galbrush version of these games would come across as offensive, because Guybrush is a comedic protagonist. He's subjected to slapstick, mocked, rendered the butt of jokes. He says and does absolutely ridiculous things. Who'd enjoy a woman being a victim of such humiliation?

I hate the Galbrush Problem as an argument.

Because Guybrush might be hard to take seriously, but he's still loveable - he's quick-witted, charming, and his many failures combined with his unwillingness to let them ever get him down for long actually make him a little inspiring. And we don't just watch him, we embody him - we relate to him. His absurd challenges are ours to overcome and his cracking wise in the face of craziness is something we sort of wish we could do. We'll all look a bit ridiculous at least some of the time. That's not something gender specific.

It's not a problem to write a woman being goofy. Not unless you present that as her only trait, or her as the only woman, or failure as the only outcome of her actions. Meryl completely explodes the Galbrush problem by being hilarious - she and Vash get to play comedic partners pretty frequently early on and it's always great, and her stupid sibling fights with Wolfwood are splendid. It doesn't make her offensive. She's fun! We need levity! That tomas is hauling around a bunch of fricking coffins!

The wonder of Trigun as a story is that everyone in it is so gloriously, painfully human, even the ones who pretend not to be. Is there really something offensive about affording women that courtesy too? Really?

Maybe I get too pissy about it, I don't know, but I've been a fandom cryptid for some twenty years, and was once determined to enter a profession where there was straight up a conspiracy to prevent women being protagonists, or when they are protagonists, having partners or lovers, because it meant they were less appealing and available.

Lookit this silly marshmallow. What about her is unappealing? What about her is offensive? I mean, apart from the fact that at this rate she's going to give that poor man a heart attack.

Part I

Part II

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

[basilone]

Ooo maybe 25. Gentle with Brady? Would love to see some more of your writing on this blog again !!

Lovely anon, both yourself and @mercurygray had a similar thought... and I thought, well, why not combine the two? I hope y'all don't mind! 💙 It's been lovely to experiment more in the MotA-side of things writing-wise for sure. 😊

golden & gentle

He never liked hospitals much. John supposes most people don’t – too many tragedies – but it’s the antiseptic that gets to him most. He sniffs loudly. Brushes his tickling nose with his uninjured hand, then sniffs again. Lemmons uses something similar in the planes sometimes. Scrubs them clean. It’s got John sneezing so much that Curt keeps joking about him being allergic to the cockpit.

Kept joking.

He exhales past the suckerpunch that landed entirely too close to his gut. Supposes it’s a small mercy he didn’t say it out loud this time. The dead need to stay dead. Need to be buried somewhere in the past, in some unmarked memories, lest they become ghosts to the living. As far as hospitals go, they’re as near to ghosts as he can tread.

“Take a seat, Captain,” he hears somewhere to his left. “Will be just a minute.”

John makes the mistake of turning into the voice’s direction. There’s a familiar cadence to its lilt, though softer than his memories of it would normally allow. He spies dark hair pulled back beneath a nurse’s cap, dark eyes to match, and one hell of a familiar button nose. Takes a step back when he registers the dimple in her chin. Almost knocks the chair over in his haste to put more distance between himself and… and… and that woman.

That woman actually smiles, though, which gives him pause. “I see you’ve met Ida.” It’s not quite a question, and if it is it sounds like one she already knows the answer to. “My twin sister,” she clarifies, clearly registering his answering frown. “Cressida Dorrance-Jones, and she’ll never make you forget that name while you’re at her table?”

John snaps his fingers. “Her, yes,” he agrees, feeling a cold shiver course over his back at the mere mention of that particular interrogator. “Apologies, Lieutenant Dorrance-Jones, I didn’t realize she has a sister. Let alone a twin.”

“And that, Captain, is exactly why she and I don’t do the same job. You can drop the Dorrance part of the name with me, by the way. Plenty of those around here already, each more insufferable than the last, and I’m as far from the golden child status in my family as a girl’s ever gonna get. Take a seat, why don’t ya? Let me get a good look at that hand of yours.”

“It’s just a scrape,” he minimizes as he sinks down on the chair.

“With the way you lot work,” she says, clearly not quite believing him if the stash of supplies she dumps on the nearby table is anything to go by, “you would still call it a scrape if half your hand was in danger of falling off. No offense, sir.”

“None taken, Lieutenant Jones.” He knows for a fact that Cleven would be one of those fellows. Hell, the man would probably not see a hospital’s insides for himself at all if DeMarco wasn’t such an effective mother hen. “Plane’s damage was a little sharper than it looked, and I wasn’t wearing my gloves anymore.”

Her hand is warmer than his. Her touch far softer than her twin’s would have been. Gentle, even, with the way she presses down around the wound and retracts the moment it begins to sting. John hisses through his teeth when her little finger dances too close to the part that’s been coloring every shade of red and purple conceivable.

“You banged this up real good, Captain…?”

“Brady. John Brady.”

Her answering smile takes the sting out of her touch just a little. “Well, Captain Brady, you’ve got a sweet bruise here. Gonna be a bit of a rainbow there for a while. Scrape’s not too ugly, won’t need stitches,” she assesses with a well-practiced eye, “but you’re gonna need to keep it clean. You come see me before you fly, all right?”

“Sure?”

“I’ll bandage it up when you go up there. Get you a bigger glove, too.” She snorts. “Last time a fella had a scrape like this, he tried to worm his big hand into his little leather glove. I just about had kittens seein’ that, lemme tell ya!”

John winces. “That sounds ill-advised.”

“I know, right? Some fellas are just like that, sir.” A shrug. Another smile. “Can’t do much about that except yell at them, I suppose. I can tell you’re smarter than that, though. Bet you’re gonna be right as rain once we get this cleaned out.”

“And I can fly with this?” he checks, flexing his hand a little despite the pain. “You’re sure?”

“Seen worse. And you’re needed up there, ain’t ya?”

Until I, too, become a ghost to the living. “So people tell me,” he says, pushing all thoughts of a haunting back to his mind’s furthest recesses. He offers her a thin, wan smile of his own. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she warns, wet cloth in hand. His nose almost twitches at the scent that’s wafting up at him. “This is gonna sting like a motherfucker, sir, ain’t no other way to say that.”

“Appreciate the warning, Lieutenant.”

“I try to be good about that, sir. Them fellas who come in with the frostbite always appreciate it, too. Least you ain’t got that, that’d be somethin’ different to treat…”

Lieutenant Jones, unlike her sister, is an anecdotal talker pulling stories out of her mouth the way a magician would pull a rabbit out of a hat. She hardly seems to expect answers to all of it, though she goes through the niceties spiel of where ya from I’m from Georgia ooooh New York state how fancy and exclaims real-not-feigned excitement about his college classes. John lets the chatter wash over him as he chews on the inside of his cheek to keep the pain in check.

“You’d do all right as an interrogator,” he allows, once she’s managed to pull half his family history to the forefront of the conversation. “I’d already forgotten I’d scraped my thumb on that bike two summers ago until you asked me about that scar just now!”

“I would,” she snorts, “but can you imagine Ida as a nurse? That’s what I thought”– she laughs to his answering shudder –“so I’m right where I should be. As, it seems, are you.”

He can only hope that’s true.

[talktomeinclexa]

Clarke the Vampire Slayer

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon Violence, Fighting

Status: WIP

Summary: When Clarke, a young student with a clear idea of what her life will be, wakes up one morning with superhuman strength, destiny comes knocking on her door. Sent to Polis to prevent a demon from opening the Hellmouth, she can count on the mysterious owner of a magic shop and new friends to help her dispose of vampires, demons, and other evil creatures. But will she succeed in stopping the Apocalypse?

***

Chapter 9: The Fool I Am

The following day, Clarke was changing after her shift at Sky Crew when Harper, taking advantage of the slow influx of clients, found her in the break room.

“Hey. Good job today. You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Thanks. I have good teachers,” Clarke said as she zipped her jacket. Not to sing her own praises, but she had only messed up one order throughout her four-hour shift. She was getting there.

Before moving to Polis, she had never had a part-time job. Her parents valued academic excellence, and Clarke had been encouraged to focus on her studies and avoid distractions. Why work for peanuts when your parents both earned well over six figures a year? Yet, in her new, chaotic reality, her job brought her a welcome sense of routine and predictability. She didn’t know what to expect during her patrols or if she would make it home. But Sky Crew, with its friendly customers and supporting staff? Sky Crew was her newfound haven. The place where she could, for a moment, smile as if she meant it and forget about the vampires, the demons, and the looming end of the world.

“Don’t let Jasp hear you, he’ll be insufferable.” Harper chuckled. “Anyway, I was wondering; do you have plans this Saturday? We’re having a small get-together at our place. You should come.”

Billy Fordham’s face flashed at the back of Clarke’s mind. Colored by her unshakable guilt, the possibility of a similar tragic loss on her account made her bite her underlip. Even the Slayer can’t be everywhere all at the time, she reminded herself. Maybe one day, she would believe it.

“Sounds good. Thanks,” she said after a too-long silence, hoping Harper wouldn’t take offense. Rationally, it would make more sense to patrol after the party than in the early evening. The odds of meeting vampires and other evil creatures increased as the moon rose in the sky. Besides, what better way to blend in and gather information about Polis than to hang out with people who had grown up there?

“Great. I’ll text you the address. We’ll start around seven. Raven will be there. Jasp, too, of course. He’s practically a part of our furniture at this point. Only Nathan and his boyfriend Eric haven’t confirmed yet.”

“I look forward to it.”

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