#but it is put into question how much agency she had in any of it

[presefone]

persephone's relationship with demeter is so fascinating. her existence is just an extension of demeter, at first, and their bond is a never ending cycle of life. demeter birthed kore and the personification of spring came forth, but her absence leads to cold and drought to not just her mother's heart but to the whole world : it is a deep connection between the child x the creator and so much more ( ... ) i'll write kore as a defiant force against her mother but doing so in a respectful, wishful, and even adoring way ; questioning her place as only a secondary piece to an olympian instead of her own diety that deserves praise and fear as any other. a being refusing to go against what the fates have written, but wondering if she's meant to be just maiden of spring ( sometime i'll write how that defiance applies to hades as well and how far were her choices considered but i believe it is much more complex considering how the hades and persephone thing is seen, usually, and how many myths and tellings are of that story. i like the homer route and the goose tale, too, that little know of. anyway ). wondering if demeter is correct in keeping her just that, her daughter, and little else. the sensation of being held back. and later on, above all, fighting for power against demeter, as i believe gods of any size are in a constant battle for glory and power despite love and adoration for each other. i believe wholeheartedly that the mother x daughter relantionship is a fascinating aspect of our lives and usually the most definining one be it healthy of not. the same applies here. she's much more devoting to her duties to demeter once she has her own steady foot equal to hera and amphitrite's, loving her as spring does the earth and all its living creatures, but demanding equal respect and consideration despite demeter being her creator.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[phant0mth1ef]

more of bakugou x support course reader!

after you’d fixed his gauntlets, he realized just how much you’d improved them as he was training in class one day, noticing how they’re able to withstand his blasts as if nothing had happened, and noticing that you etched the word dynamight onto the rim of the silver at the bottom of the grenade shaped gauntlet.

he found himself in the support course work room once again, looking aroundbto see if he could find you to, well, somewhat thank you and ask if you had any other recommendations to add to his costume.

his shoes hit the floor as he was able to fully see the room during the day, watching as the students shuffled around and didn’t just casually cater to someone standing in their doorway, they were too engrossed in their own projects.

he grabbed one’s shoulder as they tried to speed by him, almost dropping the poor boy as his items fell on the floor.

“where’s extra #1?” he asked, his eyes squinting at the boy who just wanted to grab his things and go.

“who?” the boy squeaked.

“extra #1!” he whisper shouted as the confusion on the boy’s face never faltered.

“…”

“l/n.” he finally gave up, realizing the boy wasn’t gonna understand what he meant.

“oh! she’s currently over at mirko’s agency! she designs support gear for her y’know! she’s so talented.” the boy gushed as bakugou swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks before pushing him forward and letting him go, walking out the door.

he normally wouldn’t do this. but oh man did he really need that support gear today! the boy was walking around town looking for the number 5 hero’s agency, even stopping some people on patrol to ask!

he was outside the doors, watching with anticipation as he looked inside, watching power loader scold you, a sheepish smile on your face.

bakugou opened the doors, a soft music playing in the background as he caught the end of your conversation with the teacher.

“and get your grades up or i’m taking your keys to the lab!”

you put a hand behind your neck as you looked towards who had just walked in the door, a look of confusion on your face as you spotted the blonde hero in training.

you had grease on your face and dirt covering your arms up to your elbows, and yet he didn’t find himself completely repulsed, just fascinated.

“bakugou? what’re you doing here?” you spoke, a large screw in your hand as you waved him over.

“i, uh, i need your help with something.”

you nodded.

“d’ya have anymore recommendations for me? like to add onto my hero outfit? i liked the way you messed with my gauntlets.

“you came all the way over here to ask me that?” your tone was questioning, and your face wasn’t having any of it.

“listen! i’ve got a mission soon and if you do have anything to add i want it on by then! got it, extra?!” he got defensive quick.

“are you forgetful or do you just like to piss me off?”

he was stubborn, you were stubborn.

the perfect match for one another!

“tch. y’know what i don’t even know why i bothered coming out here! clearly you’re just an egotistical asshole.” he turned around.

“fine! then go! i’m not exactly asking to design your support gear anyway! bitch.” you said with pride, although you whispered the last part.

as the door jingled, signaling his exit, you could hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

“well well well, seems like we’ve found someone with enough spunk to finally match yours!” mirko clapped, announcing that out loud to everyone who was sitting in the lobby.

“tch. he wishes.”

“i dunno, the way you were talking to each other, i’d say there’s some romantic tension there, aren’t i right akari?” she turned to her assistant who nodded.

the next day bakugou showed up to the lab, just sitting there waiting to be acknowledged, although you blatantly ignored him the whole time he was there, going on with your day while people from his class walked in and were instantly assisted, even deku.

he would sit there and wait. and that’s all he’d do. day after day for a whole week before you finally begun to notice him sitting there.

“alright i can’t focus with you huffing and puffing in the corner over there!” you dropped your tools, clanking against one another as they hit your workspace.

“i don’t want to help you. but you’ve got persistence. i’ll give you that.” you said as you grabbed some things from a drawer, shoving them into his chest.

“what’s this?”

“a mix of different things. smaller compact grenades that pack a bigger punch than your other ones, these are ear plugs that’ll allow you to hear without damaging your hearing further, this is a roll of tape. for you to shut up.” you gave a chesire grin at the last one.

surprisingly, he chuckled. he didn’t think he’d ever find someone who… “matched his freak,” as mina would describe it.

he also found himself liking the feeling of sitting there and watching you in your element, so much that he begun to come in after classes just to chat with you while you worked.

you weren’t as bad as he thought, he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

you could get used to this.

[sowearecleariamhere]

Penelope could easily be painted as the damsel yearning for her lover, the woman without much agency waiting for her husband to come home (which of course we all know she isn't, she is a literal and metaphorical queen), and in a lesser story*) she might have been cast into that stereotype. I think that is why I love her almost yelling "You're mine" at Odysseus in WYFILWMA.

It is so possessive and decisive, ruling out any "buts". It perfectly underlines her steadfastness, her loyalty, her agency. She claims Odysseus as hers without question once she knows it is really him, that he is finally back home. She is seemingly offended that Odysseus even suggests that she might not accept him after how much he has changed. (She will make her own mind up about that, thank you very much, and said mind has been made up for 20 years btw)

It is not only that Odysseus has come home and now she chooses him. No, she has been choosing him over and over and over for the past 20 years with every action she took. It is not him coming back that now puts her in the position to choose him - it only reveals that choice, that there never was another choice other than Odysseus. Which leads me to my honorable mention:

Ody: "[...] You’ve been waiting for love."

Pen: "I've been waiting for you."

Penelope definitely had a surplus of suitors (108) and even if their motives might have been questionable, she could have easily found a new husband if that was what she wanted, maybe even one that genuinely loved her. But Penelope's love is Odysseus. Love for her is synonymous with him. No one else is even worth considering, she would rather be alone or even die before she gives any other man the time of day.

tldr; I love love LOVE the wording in WYFILWMA, how it shows how Penelope is just not taking this shit from her husband. She knows what she wants and that is Odysseus, even if it is not the original model but the slightly banged up version, the heavily traumatized, now with grey hairs probably, war criminal, ruthless god torturer version of her husband.

Because he is still her husband, goddamn it.

This might very well not make much sense bc I am insane over them currently

*) "lesser story" is not referring to the odyssey or saying epic is better than the odyssey, I mean to compare them both to any completely different work (or franchise if you will) that does not give characters agency where they should have it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Talk 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: Your boss is a funny guy, but there's something else about him that puts you on edge. (maid AU)

Note: he's here.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You set another shining glass on the shelf behind the bar. The work is a bit tedious but you make sure all is perfect. As you turn back to grab another, wiping clean any streaks left by the wash, a shadow wanders in from the tall doorway. 

Mr. Stark rubs his eyes as he walks blindly across the spacious room at the top of Stark Tower. His robe is slack on top, his nudity barely concealed by the lazily tied belt. He groans and yawns as he approaches the bar. He drags his hands back and combs out the silver tufts at his temples. 

“Damn, long night,” he grits out. “Get me a whiskey, honey.” 

You don’t mention the time or his dishevelled state. You just smile and oblige him. That’s the thing about Mr. Stark. He’s a very out there sort of guy. Given all his money, many would say eccentric. As his maid, it isn’t your place to question him either. 

“On it, Mr. Stark,” you beam brightly. He winces. 

“Ugh, jeez, the sunshine’s nice but for the last time, it’s Tony, Mr--” 

“Stark is your father,” you finish for him. “I know.” You put down a fresh glass and uncap his special brand of whiskey. 

He leans on the bar and scoops up the glass before you finish, spilling a drop onto the surface. You quickly sop it up with a cloth. You put away the bottle in the cabinet and he sighs. 

“Last night was...” he stops and snickers. “Long.” 

“Busy, I’m sure,” you agree as you turn back to your work. He is a hero and you imagine he has a lot of late ones. 

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t believe it. This woman. Mmm.” 

“Is she okay? Did she get hurt? You saved her right?” You spin to face him. 

He laughs again, “I was off duty.” 

You nod, confused, but don’t ask what he means. He says a lot of things that just kind of go over your head. It’s just who he is. Always joking around. You’re surprised given that he chose to take on such a serious role. An Avenger of all things. 

“How about you pour yourself a glass, honey?” He slurps and slams down his empty glass. 

“Oh, I can’t. I’m working.” 

“Right, but I’m your boss.” 

“Yeah, but... I wouldn’t do a very good job if I was tipsy,” you shrug and set another glass away. 

“Light weight?” He wonders. 

“Sensitive tummy,” you answer with another bright grin. “The cleaner dropped off your suit for tonight.” 

“Great,” he says with less approval than the word would suggest. He watches you and you carry on. “How long have you been here?” 

“Just a bit. I just got started on all this. Didn’t get much further than clearing up the empties,” you explain. 

“Mm, how about you go work on the bedroom. I left a mess in there,” he reaches over the bar and grabs the bottle of whiskey, twisting free the blocky stopper to swig directly from the neck. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish this after then,” you step back from the rows of glasses. “Anything else? Maybe some coffee?” 

“Nah, this will wake me up,” he wiggles the bottle and spins away. 

You leave him as he goes to the couch and flops down. The drinking isn’t new. You would be concerned if you had any place to be. Of course, who wouldn’t worry about the world’s best hero being a lush? 

You head off to his bedroom with a bounce in your step. You’re thankful for what you have. It’s nice working in Stark Tower. You try not to mention to the other women at the agency all the perks. Usually a free meal and a few gift cards out of gratitude. Your work isn’t difficult, even if the place is humongous. 

The bedroom door is open as you approach. You sweep inside. The curtains are drawn, the space dim. You go over to the floor length drapes and pull the cord to part them, letting in the morning. You hear a whine and turn to find a pear-shaped bottom, naked and defined, right out in the cold. You nearly let out a squeal yourself. 

“Ugh, my head,” the brunette groans and rolls over, hugging the silky duvet, “close that, Ton.” 

You clear your throat. She doesn’t react. She merely buries her head under arm and grumbles. You look around then swing your arms awkwardly as you move cautiously around the room. You tidy up the little things, trying not to make too much noise. 

“Goddamn, what are you doing?” A pillow hits your back and you turn to face the woman as she sits up, her supple chest exposed. “Tony! Ahhhhh!” She shrieks and you cover your ears. “Who the fuck are you?” 

You wince and show your teeth. You press your hands to your cheeks and sink into your shoulder, “I’m the maid.” 

“The maid!? Where--” She looks around, “where is Tony?” 

“He’s having a drink--” 

“So what? He sent you to show me the door? God, I know he’s slimy but fuck’s sakes,” she pushes herself off the bed and scoops up her dress from the floor. 

“Can I steam that for you?” You offer. She is a guest after all. 

“Get the fuck away from me,” she holds her arm out and flicks her fingers in your direction. 

You flinch, “alright, uh, coffee--” 

“Oh, would you go!? I need to get out of here. Urgh!” She throws the wrinkled dress over her head and grabs her heels from the floor. “I can’t believe that bastard. Couldn’t even give me a Berkin.” 

She storms out and you stare after her. You frown. You hope Mr. Stark doesn’t think you said anything wrong. You were perfectly nice. 

You sniff and go to the bed to tidy the sheets. A strip of black lace falls free. You pick up the panties in a pinch and look to the door. You scurry around and into the hall. 

“Miss! You forgot--” 

She’s gone. You stop, still holding up the panties. You shake your head. They are entirely impractical. Your cheeks would be chafing. 

“Oh, those are sexy,” Stark’s voice draws you around and he winks. You blanch at the under wear in your hand and hide them behind your back. “Yours?” 

“Sir, uh... no... your guest, er, left.” 

“Ah, yes, her,” he scoffs. “Forgettable.” 

“Mm, okay, uh, well, I suppose I’ll just toss these.” You say. 

“What a waste. How about you give ‘em a quick wash and try em on,” he snickers. 

“Sir, you’re so silly,” you shake your head. “I gotta finish making the bed.” 

“Go on, get on it. You deserve the break,” he purrs as he follows you, stopping at the doorway as you enter.  

You ignore him and put the panties on the night table. You shake out the duvet and drop the corner, suppressing a gasp at the stains on the sheet. Oh. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” He asks. 

You shake off your revulsion, “just remembered,” you grab the pillows and strip off the covers, “laundry day.” 

“Is it?” He hums. 

“Yes, sir, uh, Tony,” you pull down the corners of the fitted sheet. 

“Too bad,” he tuts. “Was looking forward to a lazy day in bed.” 

“I can get a fresh set,” you offer as you crumple up the bedding near the foot of the frame. 

“Bah, fuck it. No use laying in bed alone,” he mutters. “What was it you said about coffee?” 

[vividdreamer]

For a character with so much depth, Lae'zel sure is criminally underrated both in fandom spaces and in-game. I feel like if bg3 had to have one playable character only, Lae'zel would be GROUNDBREAKING — and I know that's an unpopular opinion. But her story could end in so many ways, each challenging your beliefs and leaving you with profound questions about yourself and the world.

Lae'zel wants to care about people but her compassion was beat out of her as a part of her training. Her life was all "kill or be killed" and despite talking about her "kin" with respect and idolation, they're the same people who would have killed her as a child — if she couldn't get to them first. She doesn't have a real family; she never speaks of any best friends, siblings or parental figures. But despite the fact that her life is so void of any warmth, safety, or comfort, she believes it'll be worth it in the end when Vlakith ascends her. That shit feels oddly relatable to me, someone who was raised in an abusive religious environment.

She could continue her death march on the path she was born into, ending her story as a complete tragedy and a gut-twisting lesson: No, actually, there is no point to sufferring. There is no promised good to come after it. No reward for having a "heart of stone," as she puts it. You only lose. Because the thing about powerful beings like Vlakith is that... why would they care about you? How do you think they came to be so powerful in the first place? By being charitable? Ha. You can't have power over people, and remain benevolent and honest at the same time. People won't immediately bend over backwards for you if you aren't at least lying, manipulating, or cheating them in the bargains that you make.

In this case, Vlakith is a lich. She's not interested in giving. She can't become a god without taking her power from somewhere or something. That's the paradox of gods. They have to take, not give, to sustain themselves. Even when they do offer "blessings," it comes in exchange for something that benefits them as a net gain. In the long run, you will lose far more than you gain.

However, Lae'zel's story can also be one of hope — when it doesn't end with her soul consumed. Through small, consistent choices, she can break down the walls obstructing her from vulnerability, compassion, and self-identity. She can choose courage over faith, and question the ways and behaviors she had to take up in order to survive. It's so depressing trying to come to terms with the idea that you might have been cheated your whole life. I wish this theme was explored more in the game. Lae'zel retreating into her tent, withering away in spirit and health as she wonders what her childhood could have been if the circumstances of her birth were any different. Until, one morning, she walks out and goes back to sharpening her sword.

It would be beautiful, moving, and tearful to see it in action! But even with what we've got in the game as it is, you see her gradually start to sympathize for her camp companions as they challenge their own ordeals. She says it pains her to see Shadowheart suffer Shar's wrath after refusing to kill Aylin. She is proud of Astarion for killing Cazador.

And there are so many other moments like that where her inner compassion slips through the cracks, and I think in those moments you see the real Lae'zel. The Lae'zel when she's choosing her own path, taking back her agency, and molding her own identity. A story that could end with her rejecting both Vlakith and Orpheus, because (and she says it herself) her destiny is hers to decide. It's a bittersweet beginning to the rest of her days.

[witherby]

I’m rly loving the whole punchline series rn, I find it so interesting like omg Wdym this small child has a more deep and fleshed out background than my oc I’ve had for 4 years??

Anyways- I’ve been thinking ever since I read the a/b/o au of punchline and LW would Damian (and maybe the other bats + Harley) try get Punchline out of that toxic stereotype that Alphas are “better” than omegas and if they do how do they try do that?

-🌻

That's very flattering! I'm playing a lot of Punchline's mannerisms by ear because she's very much not fleshed out, so it's intriguing that it reads otherwise! Fake it till you make it, baby!!!!

Great question! The bats would absolutely try to correct her line of thinking in regards to caste dynamics, both verbally and through example!

Verbally, Alfred and Damian and Tim would put in a lot of work trying to explain that she isn't any higher or lower status to somebody else just because she's an Omega. She has rights and personal agency and bodily autonomy that no one else should be allowed to dictate.

Bruce and Dick wouldn't have this conversation with her on account of being Alphas. She would just defer to whatever they said anyway, regardless of the message they mean to convey.

Jason doesn't have the patience to teach her about Omega rights when they first meet.

By example, Alfred would have her learn lessons through reading books together.

"See, Punchline? The main heroine in this book talked back to her Alpha and didn't face any punishment, because she's allowed to do that as a person with her own thoughts and feelings. Do you have any thoughts and feelings you might be afraid to share because you don't want to get hurt? I can assure you, that won't happen here."

Damian leads by example by Challenging Bruce and Dick more than usual, and makes sure she's watching. It doesn't take long for the others to catch on.

"I said," he'll growl, baring his teeth and taking an aggressive stance "I won't attend that asinine luncheon with you while my brain cells shrivel up and die around all that meaningless chatter your Socialite friends insist upon."

Bruce will narrow his eyes and glare back at him for a few moments, but then he'll relent and his body will slacken, deferring to his son.

"Fine, but you could've stood to be nicer about it."

Dick and Bruce lead by example in gentle ways. Literally. It doesn't take the world's greatest detective to see the scarring on Punchline's body and recognize that the Joker is the definition of Stereotypically-Abusive Alpha. So when they're near her, their voices are soft. They don't stand to their full height. Their hands are open and their scents are passive. If she upsets them, they're careful not to make her think she'll be hurt for it.

It's so, so, so much collaborative work. It's a ridiculous amount of work. Her whole world is being rocked and everything she thought was true is no longer so. She has to accept these changes slowly or she'll block it all out and dismiss it as a trick if they push too hard, too fast.

[spectralreplica]

Uhhhhhhhh Sburb AU!! This was more of an excuse to classpect and make sprites, so don’t ask me questions about plot details because I put like zero thought into it. Tsumugi probably had something to do with setting up the session, and she’s hiding her real title and the fact it’s not her first session. Baby Kiibo is a robot baby because I thought that was the funniest option.

Drawing with anti-aliasing off really brings me back...

Classpect thoughts under the cut if you really want:

Immediate caveat: I mention speculative stuff here like unconfirmed active/passive class pairs and inversion theory. If you don’t like those things or otherwise disagree with the titles I gave people that’s fine but just know I’m not super interested in debating about it and won’t reply.

So, to start out with I wanted to make the 8 of them a session, so I needed no overlaps in class or aspect and one Time + one Space. I also wanted to have Kaito and Kokichi as opposing aspects. In general, I think of a Title as kind of the end of your assigned character arc, so depending on your level of maturity/introspection at the start, it can seem either really obvious or really unintuitive. I tried to base them off of the hypothetical chapter 6/survivor versions of characters, since those (plus maybe the chapter 5 deaths) of the ones that get a full arc in DR canon.

Immediately Tsumugi seemed like a deadringer for Space, not so much because of the literal physics-related stuff but because of its associations with creation/narratives and setting things up for other people to act. I made her Sylph of Space here, but that's a facade. She's actually a Muse of Space who participated in past session(s) and wants to watch how things play out.

Based on the Extended Zodiac description, Kaito or Kaede has to be time, but Kokichi CANNOT be Space by any stretch of the imagination. I made her Heir of Time with the interpretation of Heir as someone who invites change/influences of/through their aspect. Time is also associated with music and death, which is both fitting and a little mean. (I can also see Kaede as Breath outside of having to have someone be Time.)

So moving onto Kaito and Kokichi, I was considering Hope vs Rage (belief vs doubt, possibility vs restrictions), but 1) Rage is defined partially by hatred of lies despite otherwise sounding Kokichi-ish (that alone could be interesting, with the possibility of a negative/reverse title or else giving him Hope and Kaito Rage for the unexpected swerve........) 2) I really wanted to give Hope to Kiibo. So instead I went with Heart and Mind (emotion vs logic, intuition vs planning, identity/motivation vs action/decisiveness).

Kokichi is Thief of Mind for taking away other people's decisions for his own purposes but also for generally "stealing" things (e.g., the Mastermind Role, narrative importance in general, along with literal items) through his own cleverness. Vs Kaito, a Knight of Heart, who uses his constructed identity as a weapon to face challenges. I'm also a fan of inversion theory, so I think at low points they'd both trend towards Page of Heart (grows powerful late in the narrative based on his own ego/identity) and Rogue of Mind (taking choices/agency/logic away from people for their own good), respectively.

I always wanted Kiibo to be Hope since 1) Ult. Hope Robot 2) big on possibilities/faith but can be a little self-centered. I went with Bard at least partially to make a "guess we know whether he has a dick or not now!" joke, but I also think "inviting destruction through Hope, inviting destruction of (false) hope" is pretty spot on for chapter 6 Kiibo. Like, as the camera/audience surrogate, he's been forced into passively leading the others to despair, not to mention how the audience takes him over to destroy the hope of ending the show. But Kiibo ends up reversing this and helping destroy the audience's faith in Danganronpa, destroying the whole academy in accordance with the vote. (Sidenote: I wonder if Kiibo gets taken over by Horrorterrors and goes grimdark? Or if he's just really, really susceptible to orders from his Exile)

Shuichi, Page of Void, was another one that immediately came to mind. Like, "starts off weak but becomes really strong/important by the end" is Shuichi's thing! Also, counterpart to Kaito's Knight. And Void is all about secrets, mystery, etc. From the Extended Zodiac: "Where others might be compelled to go out and seek answers, the Void-bound lean more toward casting doubt on what is already considered understood. They don't take much on faith and would rather live in a state of confusion- than believe something that might be untrue or bow to intellectual authority... At their best, Void-bound are wise, intuitive, and vibrant. At their worst, they can be dismissive, indecisive and apathetic." 

I had considering Light, for seeking out knowledge/truth, but Shuichi's character arc ends on "fuck you, I refuse to play. You all get nothing more from us" and learning to live with ambiguity, so I think he's way more Void. But, again, inversion would be Thief of Light, so selfishly taking away knowledge/importance from others.

Speaking of Light, I made Miu Mage of Light. Mage is like, active Seer, seeking out knowledge for yourself (vs advising others) and Light is luck, knowledge, and also importance/plot relevance. As an inventor, Miu keeps innovating and figuring things out, plus she's very motivated by her own importance to the world. She wants to be seen more than anything else and loves being smarter than those around her. Also: "At their best, the Light-bound are resourceful and driven. At their worst they can be fussy, pedantic, and insensitive." Inversion is Heir of Void, so "inviting change via hiding things" or "changing what's kept secret", which suits Miu when plotting murder.

Finally, Maki is Prince of Blood. Blood is trust, bonds, relationships, stubbornness, duty, obligation (vs freedom, change, choices) so "someone who breaks bonds/destroys relationships" but also "someone who destroys using/motivated by duty/relationships". Like, Maki is inherently a fracture point in the group because of her talent and then directly breaks the group apart and sabotages her relationships with the others in chapter 5, but also she's deeply motivated by her bonds to others in all of her destructive actions (protectiveness for orphanage/friend, love for Kaito). This sound super negative, but I think this is also the Maki who commits to destroying the institution of Danganronpa in chapter 6. Sometimes you have to be decisive and cut bad relationships out of your life.

Inversion would be Sylph of Breath, so "healing via change" or "encouraging growth towards freedom", which you can argue is sort of the way Kaito wants her to go? But she just doesn't. Idk, for better or worse, I think Maki is very aware of who she is and how people related to her, so even at her worst she's true to herself, vs, say, Kaito or Kokichi, who act "ooc".

[inphront]

thinking tonight about griddlehark as doomed by not seeing power and control as linked/trying to have one without the other.

harrow is desperate for control over every aspect of her situation, breaking down the moment anything happens that she can't predict or change or have agency in, but she's consumed by guilt and horror at the idea of being in power. she takes so much pride in necromancy as an element of her world and life where she is capable and a genius and in control, and it's a massive source of internal contention because one of the biggest gears turning her character is the cost of that control, and the fact that necromancy is inherently caught up in power dynamics. ianthe notices this about her in the epiparados: she's used to having her hands on the reins, can't cope when they're taken off, and doesn't have the personality to put them back on. harrow wants to run the ninth for the sake of having control over it, but situations like her birth where she has clear power over it make her want to die. she wants control over gideon, but is horrified by the power differential involved within necro/cav relationships. harrowhark deals horribly with uncertainty. she doesn't want power, just certainty, and therefore control. much of her arc involves the recognition that it is impossible to control an equal, which is her fundamentally impossible want: to be gideon's equal without giving her the right to leave, to be necromantically capable without the leveraging of power over her house that this requires, and the ability to align the world with what is just without the social position or the force so often involved in making meaningful change.

meanwhile, gideon has never felt important to anyone. her most fundamental desire is to be important to someone, and this manifests in her military fantasies and rebellion against authority as a desire for power. she wants the status and the catharsis of being at the top of a podium she's spent her life crushed underneath. but she doesn't put much thought into actually using any of this power she wants so badly. gideon doesn't want power for the sake of agency, but for the sake of admiration, which is how she ends up as a figurehead-- someone theoretically in a position of total power, with no control over even her own body. even her self-actualization as a cavalier was, to some extent, an acceptance of a title and a position within the empire under the understanding that she would be used. expressions of power, such as killing crux, don't feel good to her, but the concept of power itself, of having important parents and prestige and a big sword and recognition, do.

and how can they explain this to each other? they're both trying to take opposite halves of a mutually inclusive set. it's no wonder, then, that the tragedies of their relationship are desperate attempts to give each other things they don't want: gideon's death makes harrow far more powerful under terms harrow can't control. harrow then attemps to control those terms, and by extension to give gideon back her life and her agency, which gideon interprets as revoking the power she had over harrow's emotions and memory (as well as her imperial title, which may not indicate much power but sure does mean more than "indentured servant to the ninth"). for much of gtn, harrow had both power and control, while gideon had neither, and i expect this to switch when they interact in atn because it is impossible to only have one. in this way, their relationship raises a lot of questions about power structures as a whole: what do you do when changing the world requires you to leverage power against other people? what do you do when positive recognition inherently comes with a responsibility to be cruel? when relinquishing your capacity to hurt people limits your capacity to help, and when getting out from under the boot means putting it on? how do interactions with power and control interpersonally reflect systemic influence?

idk mostly i just shake them

[firecurls-27]

Team chaotix headcanons bc I adore them and I’m fandom trash.

Charmy bee

6 - 9 yo. Realizes he’s pansexual when he’s older, he/him. Audhd.

(If human) I imagine him as Afro-Latin. Do I have evidence? No. But I feel it.

Has trouble reading (possibly dyslexic), but refuses to acknowledge or tell anyone and it bites him in the ass. “Hey man, what does that say?” “Uh…chicken kebab.” “Chicken keba- -that says ‘restroom’.” “Does it??” “Where’d you get ‘chicken kebab’ from???” “I dunno????”

Has no idea who his family or parents are or were. He doesn’t care. Vector and Espio are his family, and that’s that.

Used to call vector “dad” when he first started talking. Vector pretended not to like it. After he was officially hired as a member of the detective agency, he stopped calling vector “dad” and just called him by his name to sound “more professional” as Charmy called it. He started calling vector “dad” again when he turned 12 or so.

There was one time the Chaotix went on a dangerous mission and charmy almost got badly hurt. They thought it’d be a good idea to put him in daycare for a bit during the day so he’s somewhat safe and he gets to learn things.

It took 3 people to drag charmy inside the daycare. He did NAWT wanna go.

Normally is very polite and kind but will absolutely throw hands if you insult his friends/family or are mean in general. He’s got a 0 tolerance policy for bullies.

When he gets into a serious fight, he takes off his helmet. He headbutts.

Enjoys boxing and watching the boxing channel. He tried to train with some friends but it got out of hand and needless to say to say he sent 3 kids to the hospital. But at least he was victorious.

Knuckles is his boxing coach when they have time together.

Doesn’t have a lot of actual friends his age. He claims his best friends are Espio and vector. Which concerns them both because they want charmy to have friends his age.

Occasionally vector gives him days off and lets charmy roam the neighborhood to hang out with neighbor’s kids. Charmy isn’t really close friends with any of them, but at least it’s something.

But charmy ends up hanging out with cream and tails the most.

The minute charmy and cream met they saw each other as siblings. Like they both believe they came out of the same woman. When they get time to themselves they like to cause slight mischief around town.

Vector teaches him a lot about money, so charmy hosted a whole ass class to the neighborhood kids about how to commit tax fraud. You can imagine some parents were not pleased.

In real life, bees are known for being excellent dancers. You know damn well my boy charmy is tearing it up on the dance floor. You name a dance and he can dance as if he invented it. The moonwalk, the Prisiadki, the Charleston, any. Vector and Espio are insanely impressed.

If he didn’t love detective work so much, he’d be a food critic. He’s got a good flavor palette.

He likes to help tails test-drive with some new robotics if Sonic is unavailable at the moment.

He and kit have unspoken beef.

Speaks a little Spanish. He, Espio, and Ray like to shit-talk their coworkers speaking Spanish and none are the wiser.

Teaches cream swear words in Spanish.

When he got older and became a dad he called vector every 5 minutes to ask baby questions and to see if he was doing everything right. Vector had to come over several times for it to only be a minor fix. But he assures charmy that he’s doing a great job.

Espio

17 - 21 yo. Bisexual, he/they. Autistic.

(If human) Japanese.

Mommy issues. She genuinely does care for him, but is so insanely strict and uptight and it’s suffocating and one of the only people that gets Espio really riled up.

Close with his father, but he died under mysterious circumstances when Espio was around 12 or so. Espio still wonders what happened.

Has a couple younger sisters, but was never very close to them, as he was busy with ninja training.

I have some more backstory for him but it involves oc x canon and ik no one gives a shit lol /hj

left home at 15 and stayed at Angel island for a while.

I said it before in a personal hc and I’ll say it again. He unintentionally pulls bitches. Male, female, doesn’t matter. A client comes in, the job gets done, the client gives Espio their phone number personally. He doesn’t know why.

Espio has a whole drawer full of these numbers he keeps because he thinks they could be used to call previous clients for future cases. Vector seethes with jealousy and frustration.

Too young to be considered a co-parent, but too old to be considered vector’s son. So vector just refers to him as “family”, he doesn’t need a label.

His favorite food is dumplings, but this specific recipe his mom made. They aren’t on speaking terms, so he can’t get the recipe. Every time he tries to re-create it, it comes out wrong.

He can cook excellent Japanese cuisine, but because the ingredients are so expensive he can’t make any for vector and charmy.

Canonically speaks 17 languages, so if he’s pissed at his coworkers he speaks only a certain language they can’t speak. It drives them up the wall.

Has the potential to sing really really good, if he used his talent he’d be more popular than Elvis.

Learned shamisen from his father. He has a few sheets of music his father would play when he was younger, and tries to recreate the music.

Hopes to open his own tea house one day.

Looooves tea. Likes to drink it after a long day. Or sake. Depends on what kind of day he’s had.

Vector

21 - 35 yo. Straight, he/him. Adhd.

(If human) African-American, but he’d be from Louisiana specifically.

Momma’s boy. Learned from her to be kind to others without reward. He was closest with her.

Youngest of 30. The most picked on and got everything last. Thankfully, his momma made sure he gets food at every meal.

His pop was very hard on him, trying to toughen him up, but also never took vector seriously.

He ran away from home when he was 13 and lived in Downunda till he was 18 and met the other chaotix.

Writes to his mother every day.

Used to smoke until he adopted charmy. He’s done a good job at quitting!

Used to partake in Mary-Jane and lots of drinking. Stopped 1, bc of charmy and 2, bc he couldn’t afford it anymore. He saw it as his wake-up call in order to quit. …but every now and then if offered…

Babysat cream once in hopes of gaining vanilla’s favor. He spent the evening teaching cream tax fraud. Vanilla was not impressed.

Scruffs anyone shorter than him when arguing. Oh, talking shit? Get scruffed, idiot.

Cream is basically his daughter now, he’s such a girl dad. But doesn’t forget to give charmy equal amounts of love and attention.

Would die and kill for his kids. Don’t think he won’t.

Loves to DJ, and occasionally DJ’s for big events of the price is right.

Looooves jerky. If you give him some he’d kill for you. But if you give him one of those gross fake-jerky’s he’d kill YOU.

Used to have an awful swearing problem, and tries to keep it on the down-low after he had charmy. It was hard to stop swearing, but he did a good job. But of course the one time he swore, charmy’s first word became “shit.”

Chaotix

They once took a job at club rouge in hopes of getting some extra cash, but they were all fired after the first day. Vector was too aggressive with mean customers, charmy kept messing up orders and spilling food, and espio kept running off to use the slot machines.

They genuinely have no idea what happened to mighty and ray.

There’s a group of mean kids in their neighborhood that like to pick on charmy. Normally, charmy doesn’t say anything about it and takes care of it himself by trying to fight against them. He always loses and comes home with some bruises or cuts.

But there was one time he got roughed up a bit too much and broke his arm. Obviously Espio and Vector took him to the emergency room, but afterwards they decided to try and take care of the punks themselves. Then the parents.

After that they got arrested for aggravated assault. Vanilla had to bail them out.

They loooooooove the beach. They try to go as much as they can during the summer and spring.

During the winter, because Espio and vector are cold blooded, they get rather sluggish and more tired. As an addition to that problem already, their building doesn’t have good air conditioning, leaving them very cold and unable to do a lot around the agency.

it’s up to charmy to try and pick up the slack, and solve cases while he makes vector and Espio rest.

Turns out he can’t do every single job in the agency by himself, so he desperately asks cream and tails for help with cases. While vanilla helps trying to keep espio and vector from freezing to death.

When the temperature gets warmer and Espio and vector can move again, they give charmy a few days off so he can relax for all his hard work.

They have the dumbest conversations if there’s nothing to do. They once got into a fight about what color an orange is. Don’t ask.

They have a rinky-dink box tv they all have to share. If someone wants to watch a different channel they rock-paper-scissors for it. Vector always loses.

When charmy’s asleep, vector and Espio drink Sake together and discuss further finance decisions and business problems. But it ends up turning into stupid conversations either about childhood trauma or something funny they saw on the street.

Vector’s room consists of a twin bed way too small for him that only has one pillow and a blanket, a broken down record player, several draws of tacky jewelry, posters from bands and musicians that were popular in the 90s, a boombox, a closet of old clothes that don’t fit him anymore, and several dirty clothes on the floor.

Espio’s room consists of a futon he tried to diy but it’s lumpy and uncomfortable, a bunch of mix-n-match furniture he bought in attempts of trying to make it a somewhat not-sad living situation, several ninja stars and Shuriken’s stuck on the walls and ceiling from practicing and night terrors, said ninja stars and shurikens are also hid under his pillow and his futon, a few katanas are hung on his wall, and a closet of traditional kimonos, ninja outfits, and disguises.

Charmy’s room consists of a twin bed that’s a bit nicer than vectors but still messy, a baby blanket his parents gave him (the only thing he has from them), knock-off toys vector bought at the discount store, miscellaneous objects (such as wrenches, staplers, sticks, etc) that Charmy claims as toys, drawings he’s made, photos of the Chaotix’ on various adventures, several board games for “family game night” they’re all just different editions of the game Clue, and a closet with toys he claimed he put away, a couple winter coats, and several swimwear because he forgets where he puts them and ends up buying a new pair.

Bonus fella’s:

Mighty

16 - 22 yo. Omnisexual (masc pref), He/him. Audhd.

(If human) genuinely don’t have any idea, but he’d be from Texas no matter the ethnicity.

Grew up on a desert farm with his Pop and a few little siblings. Country boy. Left to peruse a life of adventure, but still keeps in touch with his dad.

Has an accent he tries to hide because the others tease tf out of him for it. “Hey have y’all seen-“ “y’all??” “Y’ALL???” “Stop.” “Y’ALL C’MERE N HELP ME WITH THE CHICK’N KOOP!!” “Stop it.” “BERNIE COME GIT THE DAYUM CATTLE ‘FORE IT EATS ALL OUR CROPS!!!”

Gym enthusiast. Loves to work out every day he can. And likes to help out people in the gym who struggle.

Used to have teeeeerrible anger problems, but he’s gotten so much better. He learned to calm down when he began taking care of Ray. Ray taught him patience, quiet, and self control.

Sweetie pie. Is the best to come to for comfort, he’s so polite.

Gives. The. Best. Hugs. Why do you think he works out so much?

Amazing with kids, likes to read them books if he ever babysits. And used to read storybooks to Ray.

After several years of practically raising Ray, he knew he wanted to be a dad. Problem is, he doesn’t have a partner he wants to raise kids with…

Ray likes to make homemade gifts, mighty keeps every single one no matter how misshapen it is or how shitty it’s made.

Ray

6 - 12 yo. Genderfluid when older, he/she/they. Autism.

(If human) Mexican.

Was about 3 - 4 years old when he met mighty, and has stuck by him ever since.

Ray used to call him “dad” but began calling him “brother” when he was 5. Mighty misses when he used to call him dad.

Can kick your ass in go-fish.

Not as smart as tails, but not as dumb as charmy.

Loves kickball. Is the best out of the entire group.

He, charmy, tails, and cream have flying races to see while fastest. He and tails tied.

Really good chef. Give him miscellaneous items in your pantry and he’ll give you a 5-star meal. Charmy is the taste tester.

He’s a real sweetie, but has a mischievous and sassy side that only comes out when he’s with kids his age.

His blue shoes were the first gift mighty ever gave him.

Spanish is his first language. Mighty taught him English, and he teaches mighty Spanish.

Becomes a professional chef when he’s older.

[helly-ena]

“it’s not a binary did love transcend question”

@helenaeaganenjoyer i've been thinking about your tags and i just wanted to say, there's so much to chew on here. it's not a binary did love transcend question!!!! i've been trying to put my finger on why we see that question manifested differently in mark/helly/helena vs mark/gemma—and the thing about making sweeping statements on whether love transcended in either case is that: it ignores the fact that love is not one single, static thing. in mark (both innie and outie form) and helena's case, chemistry and attraction transcended. in (i)mark and ms casey's case, affinity and trust transcended—as well as between (o)mark and gemma's final innie. (i personally don't think it's just a matter of him being the first real person she sees; hell, that man is covered extensively in blood. we know gemma can be strong-willed and combative too—she tried to break dr mauer's fingers!—so there must've been something about mark that made her 'blank slate' innie trust him.) and the thing i keep going back to is—i think mark and gemma have both just changed too much as people. once we've gotten to know the 'real' gemma in 2.07, it's so obvious just how different ms casey is from who gemma was. how much of that is because of her extremely short 107 hours lifespan? hard to say, but considering that helly at her 'blank slate' woke up absolutely feral... just what else did they do to gemma to turn her into ms casey, who had this somewhat eerie, unnatural quality to her?

the other thing you mentioned here is individuation as time goes on, which is definitely more interesting to think about in the case of mark, who has been severed for much, much longer than hellyna. the s2 finale that took two whole seasons to build to culminates in the conflict between innie and outie mark, a conflict that stems from the fact that they have different and incompatible desires (which the show uses helly and gemma as shorthands for, but it's about so, so much more than that; it was never about 'helly vs gemma'). and all of this is caused by just how long mark's separate selves spent accumulating experiences in completely different and segregated environments, thus forming different (divergent) identities; how then, do you recombine two halves with edges that no longer fit together because they have been reshaped in independent ways? is this incompatibility what caused petey's reintegration sickness?

one thing i do want to add though, is that even given all this, i still don't think it makes the innies and outies different people, but just the same person with different identities; each identity possesses a full agency as any other human being does, of course, but this also largely has to do with the fact that these different identities can't coexist at the same time—only one is in control of the body at any given moment. the closest analogy we have to 'co-sharing' is when helena was impersonating helly at the beginning of the season. and, like you said, helena has the unique advantage of having access to her innie's memories via external means (security tapes). all of this, i think, is the basis for why we saw this 'natural reintegration' (converging of personalities) happen between helly and helena towards the end of the season. most important of all though, i LOVE the point you made about strong feelings being the key to reintegration—because we did see reghabi attempt to use shame as a trigger for mark's reintegration. except the thing is, like you said, there's no stronger feeling than being in love. love, in whatever form, is what bleeds through the severance barrier over and over. being in love is the catalyst for both helly and helena's transformation. of course it's love. it's always love.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 61

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,490ish

Summary: Laura seems to be moving on with her life and you aren't taking it well.

Notes: Please share reactions! 

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Wade sat in the library in the TVA where all the files where kept. B-15 walked over and dropped all the files on you and your variants on the table.

“You know, for an all powerful agency, you sure are behind the times,” Wade commented, eyeing the paper files. “Maybe I can do you a solid and also digitize these?”

“We’re not looking for that, Mr. Wilson,” B-15 responded. “These files are not to leave this library and, trust me, we will know if they do.”

“Don’t worry, if these files don’t have anything useful, I won’t be taking anything from them.”

B-15 sighed. “Good luck, Wade. I hope you find something that could help Y/N. She deserves an easier life.”

Wade nodded as B-15 left and he focused in on the files. “Okay, let’s see what we can find to save my Buttercup.”

~~~

You didn’t believe Logan when he told you that Wade was off on some mission the X-Men recruited him to be on. He had clearly forgotten that a younger version of you was with the X-Men right now. But you didn’t question it. Though you were beginning to worry as it had now been weeks since you’d last seen him and your life was much quieter currently.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Laura called, bounding out of her room and down the hall.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” You asked as you wiped your hands off on your apron. 

“I got in!”

“What?” You felt like your heart stopped.

“I got into Columbia!”

“Oh my gosh, Laura!” You quickly brought her into a crushing hug as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. So proud.”

She pulled away slightly. “Mom, please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it. I’m just so proud that you’re my daughter. When do you start?”

“Actually, there’s a few half semester classes I’m interested in and I already contacted my counselor and they said I could start next week.”

“Next week?” That had you wanting to cry harder, but you held back.

“Yeah! Oh, and I got a job on campus that will allow me to put money towards tuition and give me a little scholarship.”

Your world was spinning faster now. “And when do you start that?”

“I’m actually going to get ready and head there.”

“Laura… how long have you known about all this? There’s no way this all happened today.”

Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, mom. I guessed that you might have a hard time so I made sure I had everything in order before telling you.”

It made you ache to hear that she was worried about you, especially knowing that she was right. “No matter what, I’m still proud of you, but next time please just tell me.”

“Okay, mom. Sorry.”

You pressed out a smile. “It’s okay. Go get ready.”

~~~

You could feel your powers tingling beneath your skin as you paced the living room. You were anxious with the fact that Laura didn’t feel like she could tell you everything and the fact that she was growing up and moving on. Laura has been your whole world for years now and now she was growing up to take care of herself. What would you do now?

“Hey, doll,” Logan greeted. He had gotten off of work, cleaned up, and was coming over to see if he could help you with dinner. “What— Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“No,” a sob tore through your throat causing Logan to quickly move in front of you.

“What’s going on?”

“My daughter’s growing up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is she?”

“Working. Just got a job without telling me. Got accepted to college without telling me. All because she was worried about how I’ll react and now I’m over here proving her right!” Flames shot up your arms.

“Woah!” Logan threw his hands up. “Okay, breathe, darlin’.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, lungs feeling like they were on fire.

Logan’s hands grasped your arms, ignoring the flames as they burned him. “Yes, you can. Follow me.”

“She’s— she’s growing up— she’s been— my whole world— what do I do now?”

“Oh, doll. You’re still her mom. Always will be. And you’ve done a fantastic job in raising her. But it’s time to start focusing on yourself.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be alone… I wasn’t supposed to be alone.””

“You’re not alone, you have me. Always. But I need you to try to calm down. You’re hurtin’ yourself and I can’t handle that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know. How can I make it better?”

“Just… don’t… leave…”

Logan shook his head. “Never, darlin’. You’re stuck with me. Follow me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Logan and you began to take deep breaths together. Yours were shaky and broken by the sobs than had now become hiccups. Logan kept his eyes locked on your eyes, wanting you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere. As your breathing calmed, so did your flames, revealing that both of your arms were burnt. The pain hit as soon as the final flame was extinguished. Your knees buckled but Logan quickly caught you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he picked you up. “I’ve got you.”

Logan carried you to the bathroom and set you on the counter. He quickly grabbed the burn cream and wraps. You cried softly as he worked carefully to take care of your injuries. Whenever a whine or whimper would slip past your lips, Logan would pause.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” he would say softly. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You tried to take his words to heart as he continued to take care of your burns. But the insecurities still slipped in. “I hate this…” you murmured. “I hate that my emotions control my powers… that my healing is too slow… I hate being weak.”

“You are not weak.” Logan couldn’t stand it when you talked badly about yourself, ever, but especially now with his emotions rapidly growing for you.

You scoffed. “Right now, I feel pretty weak.”

Logan finished up getting the wrap fastened before gently taking your chin and forcing you to look at him. “You’re not weak. You do not get to speak badly about yourself anymore, got it? Especially when it’s lies comin’ out of your mouth.” The seriousness that was shining through Logan’s eyes, had your heart stopping for a moment. “No more lies about yourself.”

All you could muster up was a swallow and a nod. Logan’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. His thumb lightly brushed against your skin. 

“Do you need any meds?” He whispered, doing his best to keep you tethered to the moment because he could see that your energy was fading.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Alright. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’ll bring you some meds.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I’ll stick to the couch, just… no bed, please.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you want.”

Logan carefully carried you out to the couch and handed you a blanket before rushing to get some water and medicine for you. You quickly took them when he came back.

“Stay with me,” you requested. “We can turn on a show or something… I just don’t want to be alone.” 

“Of course,” Logan replied, grabbing the remote and sitting next to you. “Here.” He offered you the remote.

You shook your head. “Just put on something, I don’t care.”

“What’s your favorite show?” You told him what it was and where to find it. Logan turned on the first episode and glanced over at you. He noticed that you hadn’t placed the blanket over you yet. “Do you, uh, not want the blanket? I just assumed since—“

“No, no, I do. My hands are just hurting.”

He reached over and laid out the blanket over you. “All you need to do is ask and I will help you.”

“I know… thank you.”

He’s lips lifted up in a slight smile. “Anytime… I, uh… Do you, um… Well…”

“Lo,” you lightly laughed. “Just spit it out.”

You had been calling him ‘Lo’ a lot more lately. He didn’t think he liked nicknames until you started using them. Now, it made his heart soar to hear you call him that.

“Dinner,” he finally said. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can just order in,” you stated. 

“I don’t mind. Besides, Laura should be home soon and she’ll need food.”

“I can help—“

“No,” Logan stood up. He gently grabbed your shoulders and maneuvered you to lay down on the couch. “Rest. I can handle a little cooking. And let me know if you need anything, doll.”

The tv show quickly went ignored as you watched Logan work in your kitchen. He cooked with such an awkward ease, if that was even something one could do. You couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked as he worked. The thought quickly took you by surprise and you shook it off. It was only because he looked like your husband�� right?

Logan’s hands were trembling slightly as he felt your eyes on him. He had been hoping that you’d rest and let him embarrass himself in the kitchen in peace. Seemed like that wasn’t going to happen though. Logan tried to ignore your gaze and seem confident as he continued to work. 

Minutes passed and eventually you fell asleep due to the exhaustion of your flames and your body taking forever to heal. Logan kept working, knowing that your body needed fuel to help continue healing though he knew that it would take a week or two for your burns to disappear and leave scars behind. He turned away from the stove for a brief moment, only for the food in the pan to quickly catch on fire.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed.

You woke up as Logan tried to put out the flames, yet failed. The flames seemed to only grow bigger when his attempts. As quick as you could, you got off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“Mom?” Laura called as she entered the apartment, immediately on alert at the smell of smoke. “Mom!”

You waved your hand, extinguishing the flames. You gasped as the amount of energy that took from you. Your knees buckled causing Laura to leap over to you and hold you up.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, taking in your full appearance. 

“Y/N!” Logan fretted as he saw how weak you had quickly gotten.

“What the hell did you do?” Laura glared at Logan.

“I—I—I was just cooking dinner and the pan caught on fire.”

“That doesn’t explain why she has bandages up her arms!”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” you tried to tell her, panting through every word. 

Your knees buckled again and Logan’s arms hurried out to help you but Laura pulled you away.

“Get out,” she ordered.

“Laura,” you rasped.

“Get out!” She repeated, yelling at the man in front of her.

“It was an accident, Laura,” Logan tried to explain. “I was just trying to—“

“I don’t fucking care! Leave! Get out!”

You could see that Logan felt guilty when his gaze met yours. You wanted to reach out and comfort him and to tell Laura that nothing was his fault, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Come on, mom,” Laura said as lifted you up and carried you down the hall to your room.

Logan watched with sad eyes until you both disappear into your room. Then he got to cleaning up the mess that he had made in your kitchen. Laura tucked you into bed, making sure that you were all settled before closing the door and going back out to the living area.

“I told you to get out,” Laura fumed.

“I’m just cleaning up the kitchen,” Logan mumbled. “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough for today. I told you not to hurt her, that includes her powers.”

“I know.” 

Logan wasn’t going to argue with Laura on this. He knew that he had caused the drain in your energy with the kitchen fire. He also knew that Laura was mostly talking about the bandages on your arms and he wasn’t going to tell her that she was the main cause of those. She didn’t need that guilt on her. He would take that for her.

“Just get out, Logan,” Laura stated again. “I can handle it.”

Logan sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth fighting her on this. He glanced down the hall, staring at the door he knew you were behind. “Please let me know if either of you need anything.”

“We won’t.”

Logan left the apartment and Laura quickly locked the door behind him.

~~~

Laura stayed at your side all night after the kitchen was cleaned. When you finally woke, she was right there with water and medicine.

“Here,” Laura offered to you. “Take it.” You didn’t argue, letting her help you sit up and take the meds. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Laura,” you replied. “I am worried about Logan though. Where is he?”

“I kicked him out.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, I should have. Just look at your arms, mom!”

“He didn’t cause what happened to my arms. It was me… I was upset and lost control. He found me like that and helped me through it.”

“Upset? What were you upset about?”

“That you’re growing up.”

Laura’s heart dropped. “Mom, I—“

“It’s fine, kiddo. None of it’s your fault. It’s just me realizing that my daughter is no longer my little girl and I have to let you go be the wonderful woman that I know you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really not your fault.”

“I was so mean to Logan. I kicked him out.”

“It’s okay. It was all a misunderstanding. He’ll be okay.”

Laura nodded, taking a moment to think. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, kiddo.”

“Do you… uh… what… well, I guess, just… do you have feelings for Logan?”

That question caught you completely off guard. “I— I— like as a friend?”

“Yes and… do you like him more than that?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Laura nodded. “I’m just asking because I want you to be happy, mom, and it seems like he makes you happy.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your happiest moments since returning to 2024 had been with this new Logan. But that didn’t been you had feelings for him, right?

“He has been making me happy, yes… and he’s taking good care of me.”

“You don’t need to admit anything to me, especially right now, but just think about it. Take notice of it. Logan seems to care about you a lot and willing to do anything for you—for us.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind… Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, mom.”

next chapter >

[custardpuddingprincess]

Mr. Knows-everything-but-the-biggest-fattest-most-obvious-crush-on-him-and-the-crush-he-has-on-someone

PART 1!!!

Long ah title I know… Hehehe my first Ranpo Edogawa x Readerbfic, BUT I HAVE SO LITTLE STORIES YET… anyways, i hope you enjoyed this!!! Kinda fem reader ig if there’s any construction criticism for me, pls let me know!!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

notes: [reader] used, reader is an assistant at the agency, btw I love Yosano so I made you and Yosano be so gf-coded Ranpo lowkey thinks is wuluhluh

“[Reader]! Do you like dorayaki?” Ranpo pulled you over by your wrist, with a lopsided smile. You nodded, a bit giddy that he asked you this question- he wasn’t known to share his food with others, maybe you’ll have a chance with him!…

But of course there was a reason why he asked you that, and it was not to share his snacks- duh.

“Could you buy me some? I like the ones down the street the most- oh and buy me some tayaki! Strawberry danfuku too!” He grins, letting go of your wrist, as he turned back to face his desk.

Yosano, who was watching the scene, stepped up next to you, and put her hand on your shoulder, watching you heave a small sigh. “Oh my, it seems like one of our dear assistant has fallen for the most oblivious person ever, huh? Poor you,” she snickered, taking your hand as she offered to go with you.

It was fun, at the very least, being able to hang out with someone as cool, girlboss, sophisticated, smart, glamorous, gorgeous, hot, swell and hot woman ever (it’s the author talking idk if y’all like Yosano though). And she even brought you shopping first, as you two navigated the streets and shops, along with trending cafes, heavy bags in hand.

But of course, Yosano knew Ranpo would get a bit annoyed and grouchy if you guys didn’t get back soon, so she bought the snacks he wanted, along with some crepes for the agency, before heading back… and he was pissed.

Ranpo repeatedly poked at Yosano’s shoulder, whining as he glanced between you two. “Why were you two gone so long? I was starved of my sweet treats… and you, [Reader]! You… you left to shop with Yosano for 1h 18min 52sec? Is she more fun than me? Is she more important to you than me?”

Yosano backed away a bit by bit, giving you a thumbs up as she dropped off your shopping bags on your desk, and sat by your desk, listening in to the conversation. And she wasn’t the only one invested in it. Junichiro was pulling Naomi back, whispering on how Ranpo might get angry at her for listening, Dazai was already slacking off and Haruno was just as interested…

“Hmp! [Reader], I was about to let you have one of my snacks, but I guess that won’t be happening today- or ever,” Ranpo looked a bit like a kicked dog, since you had spent so much time with Yosano instead of, well, him.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 5 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): homophobia is still a theme. another dead relative mentioned. smoking cigarettes.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 6

You'd decided to do nothing about Cady's infiltration for now. Or, well, Regina had told you she'd figure it out and given firm instruction to not do anything.

You didn't exactly like that. Then again, you didn't have any better ideas. Obviously, you wanted her to not be around Regina. It was wrong that she was friends with her under the pretence that she was looking for reasons to stab her in the back. Then again, she didn't need reasons. Regina had provided plenty already.

As September dragged along and eventually turned to October, it felt as if day by day your mind split into an exponentially growing number of pieces. Your desire to protect Regina battled with the fact that she had been wrong so many times, had really hurt people. Didn't they deserve some reparation? Didn't Regina deserve forgiveness? Was any of that for you to decide?

You would have to pick a side and make your stance known, eventually. You'd have to plant your feet firmly on the territory you really believed in. Only, you dreaded that you didn't have as much agency as you'd have liked.

Were you weak or strong for always sticking by someone? What would become of you if you didn't stand up for what you thought was right and wrong? Where was the line?

You didn't want to side with Janis and her lackeys. The more you looked at it, the parallel between them—Janis and Regina—started to become obvious. Janis and Regina weren't that different at all.

What did you even want? What could you want? You didn't have answers to those questions.

The weather was getting colder, so you'd shuffled your wardrobe quite a bit. Short-sleeved flannels and tee shirts were replaced by cotton undershirts and grandpa sweaters. Literal grandpa sweaters. You'd gotten the majority of them from your grandfather's closet, which he had left for you in his will. It was a joke you two had shared, that you looked better in his clothes than he did.

Regina certainly didn't think so.

"Those sweaters are fucking ugly." She put it bluntly, chewing on some gum as she surfed channels on your TV. She'd taken to spending a lot of time at yours recently. You guessed it had to do with her dad being home and her friends no longer being trustworthy.

"They were my gramps'." You pouted and slumped onto the couch next to her. Since your first sleepover, the distance between your bodies had gotten smaller each time. Your knees almost touched.

"The emotional baggage makes them even frumpier." She glanced at you before looking back at the TV. "You'd be better off framing them."

"I like them, Reg." You settled back and turned your attention to the screen as well. "I don't tell you what to wear."

"If you did we wouldn't be friends." She quipped, finally settling on just shutting the thing off. "Now, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." You didn't want to talk about it. You doubted you could talk about something like that and both remain calm. You hated shouting. It always made you cry, no matter the situation. You could've been the angriest you'd ever been, not sad at all, and still cry.

"Fine. Be stubborn." She huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to Aaron's Halloween Party."

"Are you?" You turned and blinked at her. "Cool, I guess."

"You know how everybody, like, dresses sexy? It's like the whole point of Halloween, yeah? Cady's from Kenya. She doesn't know that. She thinks Halloween's supposed to be scary."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Ugh, for kids it is. We're practically adults. Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." Regina recited as if from a book. "Karen's words."

"She's very wise, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Regina mused.

"You ever told her that?"

"No, she'd get a big head."

"Karen Shetty would get a big head." You said, disbelieving.

"They want what I have so bad," Regina said. "I have to keep them on their toes."

"Are they even your friends? Or do you keep them close to control them?" You sat up straighter, some dots connecting. "Is that why you got Cady to join you? Because she was too pretty to go unchecked?"

"So you think she's pretty." Regina shifted closer, your knees really touching now. You tried to contain your excitement.

"I feel that's pretty obvious." You leaned in also, almost without noticing yourself. She was like a magnet.

"She had potential. If she were to realize it, who knows what she would've gotten up to."

"You made her realize that. That's a self-fulfilling prophecy if I've ever heard one."

"What do you know about prophecies?"

"I know that if I scoped a threat, I wouldn't make them stronger." You licked your lips nervously. "Keeping an eye on her is one thing, but you've made her an enemy."

"Fine, sure, whatever. Now, I'm gonna bring her down. She's gonna humiliate herself by showing up to the party all scary-looking, and then I'm gonna kiss Aaron Samuels." She grinned and blew a bubble. The thin pink of the bubblegum complimented her eyes.

"Why? To make her jealous? Because she wants something you had?"

"To establish dominance."

"I dunno, Reg." You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face. "You're making an enemy."

"It's what I do best, jorts. Just watch." She got up and headed for the kitchen. Hated to see her leave, loved to watch her go.

So, you watched. You watched her hatch her plans, how she deliberately kept Karen from talking to Cady about high school Halloween party etiquette, which seemed like a challenging task indeed, and how her leash on Gretchen tightened to an impossible degree.

You sat alone in the computer room the night of the party, trying to build a profitable amusement park and failing miserably. Your heart wasn't in it. Not even gaming could take your mind off of Regina.

She was probably kissing Aaron Samuels right now. Right now, their lips were sealed together in a nasty French kiss that surely repulsed anybody close enough to hear the slurping and suckling that came from the union. Aaron was probably on her, touching her everywhere he could get his grubby paws, shamelessly licking at the roof of her mouth like a dog.

While the thought of the jock being a bad kisser soothed you somewhat, it didn't cure the clenching in your chest. Fuck, it was stupid that this hurt you. It wasn't even real, she was using him to get to Cady, but the mere thought of them like that made you want to puke.

You watched the chaos unfold the next morning. At lunch, Janis herded you to their table near the back. You were barely listening, too busy glowering in the general direction of the jock table. Cady was officially on board now, you were told. Regina had officially gone too far for her and now their real plans could commence.

"Hey, dude, are you even listening?" Janis punched you on the shoulder. You glared and punched back.

"No. Yes, I- what did you say? Something about Homecoming."

"Yes!" Janis practically hissed, looking a little manic. You looked at Damien, who was eyeing you suspiciously. "We're spraying water on her when she's inevitably crowned Homecoming queen. Cady's also replacing her moisturizer with lard. Can you think of anything?"

What, you were supposed to contribute to bringing Regina down? She was kidding, right? She continued to stare holes in you.

"Uh..." You swallowed. "I'm not really an ideas guy. I can help in other ways?" You squeaked, desperately wanting out of this whole thing.

"Ugh, you're boring." Janis groaned, slumping against Damien.

"Good talk." You said hastily as you got up. "I'm going to smoke a cigarette now." So acutely uncomfortable, you talked like a robot.

"Can you gimme one?" Janis perked up.

"No, she can't." Damien cast a look at Janis. "We agreed, remember? Smoking only at the garage."

You took that opportunity to skedaddle. They bickered like an old married couple. Though there was no romantic chemistry between them, they were obviously a solid duo.

Janis didn't seem so bitter when she was with Damien. Sure, now that they were planning revenge their focus was on Regina, but they often strayed off track. Why couldn't she just let go? She was clearly doing better now.

As you rounded the building and made it across the lawn towards the bleachers, you spotted a couple making out. The boy had the girl pinned to the wall. You were quite far away and you could hear their lips smacking.

You didn't want to look too close, because gross, but the varsity jacket and pink ensemble were hard to ignore.

You gritted your teeth and pulled out the pack of Marlboros you had on hand. Regina and Aaron fucking Samuels. You lit up and inhaled before you were even properly concealed under the bleachers.

God, you were such a hypocrite. If you weren't over what Regina did to you in middle school, then why should she be? She'd had it worse, too. You couldn't even imagine the consequences of something like that.

If people knew you liked girls, it'd be over. Even if it was sort of like an open secret, because nobody ever asked you about boys or stuff like that, to have it confirmed would ruin you beyond repair.

If people knew you liked Regina, it'd be even worse.

"Hey, why're you sulking under there?"

"Regina, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"Uh, grumpy much?"

"Leave me alone."

You leaned your head back against the steel, looking up at Regina as she stood over you. She was in all pink. A pink, fuzzy sweater, white skinnies, and Uggs. You had a blue, old Carhartt jacket, denim jeans and scuffed Converse.

You matched with her way better than Aaron. You could probably kiss better too. Not that you'd had any practice. But you'd at least have the sense to not slobber all over the one you were kissing.

Unless Regina liked sloppy kisses. As if you'd get to find out.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

I like you. I like you too much and it's hard to think. I can't tell wrong from right.

"It's nothing." You took another drag. "Janis and Damien are plotting. It just makes me mad." Not entirely untrue. You were lying by omission, though.

"What kinda plots?"

You hesitated. How could you? "Nothing concrete yet." Now you were really lying. It sunk like a stone down your gullet, hitting your heart on the way down, and dropped heavily into your stomach. It nearly punched a hole clean through.

"Keep me updated." She lingered and you kept looking at her. What would she look like as Homecoming queen, soaked down to her bones up on a stage? What would she look like after smearing lard on her face?

Not ethereal in the sunlight like this, probably. Though you reckoned ruined mascara and pimples wouldn't do anything to shake off this stupid crush.

"For sure." You just nodded and looked down. You couldn't keep your eyes on her when guilt gnawed at your insides.

"Can I have one?" She hopped over your legs and sat down on the grass next to you.

"A cigarette?" You baulked. "A cigarette for Regina George?"

"Yes, you doof." She laughed and reached for your pockets. "Where's the pack?" She kept patting down your body. Your heart sped up, your palms sweated, and a stupid grin split your face.

"Only one." You turned your face as stern as you could make it. "I'm not ruining your beautiful singing voice."

"You think my voice is beautiful?" When she asked questions like that and looked so small waiting for your answer, you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.

"Yeah," You breathed, sounding a little too sincere, too reverent. "You sang at the talent show in middle school that one year. I think it was a Celine Dion song? Captivating."

"That was so embarrassing. I had such shit breath control." She rested her hand on your thigh, casually, and the other behind your back. Your faces were so close. "C'mon, jorts. Now."

"Nobody complained. Everybody loved it." You reached into your pocket and handed her a cig. She put it between her lips and looked at you expectantly.

If you'd been feeling bold, you would've touched the tip of your lit one to hers. Yours was more than halfway done, so you'd have gotten real close. Maybe in your dreams.

You flicked the lighter to life and held the fire for her. "Suck. Yup, you got it."

She inhaled and let the smoke out of her mouth. You took a drag to keep from laughing. "When you've got the smoke in your mouth, inhale it."

She did as you told and started coughing violently. This time, you couldn't keep the laughter in. She shoved you and you laughed harder.

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[k3n-dyll]

hii i hope you're having a good day! I saw some of your posts about the twitter discourse about sevika and the brothels in arcane...im not looking to argue or anything, just genuinely wanted to understand your perspective on it a little bit better the context of show kind of leads us to believe that zaun is deeply economically impoverished right. wouldn't that mean that most of the people in the brothels are there not through their own volition but because of the economic circumstances that they were handed? i personally think those situations are inherently coercive, regardless of how you spin the agency question. if you don't really have the choice to say safely say no, is that really a choice at all? of course the same logic applies to any kind labour under capitalism i guess, but coercion when it comes to sex is treated with a different degree of gravity (for good reason; we all know what coercive sex is called) irrespective of the presence/absence of some kind of organized trafficking business, the economic deprivation in the undercity kind of muddy the lines, at least in my eyes.

I recently saw a post that pretty much summed up my feelings on the topic which is that I think there are conversations to be had about sex work in media and how it's portrayed specifically regarding coercion and exploitation and how they intersect within those depictions, however, I also personally think that putting the label of 'rapist' on Sevika is an oversimplification of both Sevika's character and the world she exists in as a whole. A lot of the justifications for branding her with this label are extremely anti sex work(er) and uncomfortable to me as someone that has personal irl experience with both sex work and SA. There's a heavy lack of textual context on the sex work industry in both Zaun and Piltover and calling Sevika (or anyone that goes to the brothels in Arcane to buy services, really) a rapist detracts from actual nuanced conversation and critique on the matter.

I also feel that we have enough understanding of Sevika as a character in general (someone that, while morally grey for sure, is never depicted as a person that abuses power for her own personal pleasure) that using the term 'rapist' to describe her feels wholly unsupported by the show (both in implication and in what we're shown explicitly), and again a very harsh and reductionist way of viewing her character that flattens her in a way that discourages healthy debate and discussion on the topic.

I also want to point out that in a world where misogyny and the patriarchy don't play a factor in its inner workings (at least that we're shown), there is a huge possibility that sex work within the Arcane universe differs from our world in a lot of ways, because let's be honest, a lot of the reasons why sex work in the real world is so awful (industry wise) is largely in part because of those systemic issues. You can feel the way you feel about it, obviously, and I'm not completely dismissing concerns/healthy debate on coercion and exploitation - my opinion and thoughts on the matter aren't the end all be all. Still, I'm personally against using such a label to describe such a complex character and the world surrounding her.