#ramble ramble tag tag

[justgrey]

hallo! Would ya be willing to write Scout x Male Reader? preferably a one-shot or something, but honestly I'll settle for anything. I got a few ideas for ya to build off of if you'd like!

-Being protective of him! we talking wrapping our arms around him when someone gets too close, pre relationship.

-Flirting and getting him flustered.

-getting bloody while protecting him from an enemy

-Bit of a heavier topic- reader being masked (I always imaged like a fighter pilot helmet lmao) and being sent on a dangerous mission, one that they might not return from, even with the respawn machine. They take off their helmet and put it on Scout, giving a small smile while saying "Keep it safe for me, yea?"

-Reader might also have a cat when they leave. Hit him where it HURTS.

-Comfort while reader heals after said suicide mission

Alright gangsters, I'm exploding. it seems you want something very specific, but i can't exactly put my finger on it 🤔

Also don't question the name, motivation hit in the middle of the night when I was settling in and rewatching Arcane for the 80th time. I promise I'm sane you guys don't call a raid on me please please please

went with the suicide mission BTW if it's not immediately clear because it probably isn't I'm gonna melt

Sad Boston Boy Hours

Scout x Male Reader

Warnings : suicide mission themes, angst probably, slight gore, swearing, not proofread

^ (dis yo boi?)

You didn't want Scout to hear about your latest mission. You wanted to delude yourself into thinking that not telling him was to make him not worry, but it was mainly because you didn't want to face him the day you had to leave.

Scout had managed to find out about it anyway through one very loud, very patriotic American as 8 out of your 9 other mercenary companions came to say their goodbyes in the dead of night.

You get a couple of handshakes, hugs, and pats on the back from the rest, and just as you're about to get in your vehicle, Scout's speedy footsteps rush out of the base.

"Woah, woah, woah! Where 'da Hell are you tryin' to go! And at 'dis time of night?!" He shouts, pulling you away and holding your arms tight.

"Scout- Scout, listen. This is something I have to do alone, alright." You try to defuse his anxiety and worry for you by running your fingers through his hair.

"Whatd'ya mean you gotta go on 'dis mission wit'out me? Wit'out anyone? Why would ya' ever gotta go somewhere without me? I mean, w- why would you even agree to 'dat?"

Scout looks stunned as you don't respond to him immediately, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"I- It's just something I have to do. D- don't worry. I'll be ba-"

"Don't tell me 'dat, I'm not stupid."

"Scout-!"

"I said I'm not stupid. Listen ta' me, it's supposed to be me and you, forever! You. And. Me! You can't just go out and get yourself killed-!" He begins, waving his hands around to emphasise how displeased he is with this.

"Scout."

"Don't even try to-"

"Scout!"

Scout jumps a little at the volume of your voice, standing up straight in front of you. Now, he's listening to you. Finally. His ears even perk up a little.

Your hands slowly move to your helmet, taking the damn thing off to reveal your dashing face, adorned with scars and a bruise that never seems to go away.

Scout is mesmerised. He never got to see your face very often, and every time he did, it just blew him away. Why would you ever hide it away? He thinks. If he was as handsome as you, which he totally is, he wouldn't hide a damn thing, let alone his entire face.

His thoughts are interrupted as you gently raise his hands and place your helmet into them.

"Wh- why're you givin' me your helmet? 'Dis is your helmet. You're gonna need it, aren't ya'?" He closes one of his eyes and moves the helmet around a little, inspecting it.

"Not where I'll be headed. Listen, I want you to... to keep it safe for me, yeah?" You smile at him and move to caress his cheek, nervousness emanating from your affectionate touches. Scout blushes a little.

"No. You're makin' it back so that you can take your damn helmet back! I'm not losing you. I can't lose you. So I better not be keepin' this for too long." He pouts, pulling you in for a tight hug.

He wraps his arms and legs around your body for as long as he's allowed to before Heavy has to yank him off of your body.

"Damnit! Hey! I need'ta- give him a kiss. Lay off me, ya' lug!" He struggles out of Heavy's arms and kisses you on the lips before he's pulled away again, biting and scratching with your helmet in his arms.

Eventually, you're called back into the vehicle and Scout forces himself to watch as you're driven away to some place, with only your helmet as a way to keep him company.

~~~We time skipping dis so that i can time skip to dream land~~~

The last month had been Hell on Earth Scout. He was lonely and afraid that you would never make it back. Not even Medic's very best attempt at therapy (Having Archimedes follow Scout all day) could help with the mercs anxiety.

Eventually, the same bland truck that hauled you off to God knows where comes rolling back, and Saxton Hale himself holds you as you attempt to stand.

Scout sits in his room, mopey and sad, unaware of your return for a while, which allows you to swiftly get to the medbay.

"Fuck! Fuck it hurts! DON'T TOUCH THERE! TOUCH MY KIDNEY AND YOU'RE A GONER!"

"YOUR KIDNEY IS HANGING OUT OF YOUR BODY! I AM NOT SURE IF YOU ARE EDUCATED VERY WELL, BUT EITHER WAY, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT YOUR ORGANS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE INSIDE, NOT OUTSIDE! WHY IS IT OUTSIDE?!"

"I DON'T KNOW?! I DIDN'T SURVIVE ALL THAT JUST TO GET YELLED AT BY A MADMAN! JUST HEAL ME UP ALREADY!!"

"GO FIND A HEALTH PACK!!!"

You and Medic shout back and forth at each other, alerting the whole base to your return.

Although it is Pyro that plunges their axe through Scout's door.

"H- hey! What da' heck?! There are times when a freakazoid like you should leave a man ta' mope!" Scout cries, his ears starting to pick up on the sounds of your shouts now that Pyro has so kindly opened his door for him.

"What the...?" Scout watches as you run past his door, looking desperately for a health pack as Medic chases you down with a scalpel.

Do not piss off your local medics.

"Holy shi- W- WAIT UP, ASSHOLE!"

Scout calls and looks over to your helmet, which is sitting at the foot of his bed and smiles like a madman as he grabs it and rushes out of his room and past Pyro.

"Get a move on, py!"

"HUR HUD HUR HUDDAAA!" (Go get your man!)

This is where it ends im tired. I'll write hcs of scout taking care of you another day. Rn I need to sleep, gn gang 🫡👍

[sp1resong]

being self aware suuuucks like yeah this thought pattern/behavior is stupid and pointless and a symptom. i know this. [does it anyways

[candycatfalls]

Wait the book of bill appearing to Ford first is fucking HILARIOUS actually. Ford literally killed Bill less than a month ago, and Bill's still banking so hard on him getting him out of therapy that the book shows up in Ford's stuff MULTIPLE TIMES. Girl the situationship has been over for thirty years give it up 💀

[oobbbear]

This is what info dumping oc lore feels like

[orgyofthedamned]

me when a character who was completely powerless gains power and proceeds to lose themselves in the intoxication of it before coming to and being horrified by their own capacity for bloodlust

[whumperofworlds]

What the hell is happening???

A friend lost 200 followers. Someone else lost a bunch of followers too. And I also lost 100?

Is something happening?! Is there a purge?!

[some-pers0n]

Minecraft movie trailer dropped this thing looks awful my skin itches just looking at these things

[a-drama-addict]

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again

[violetsandshrikes]

I met a girl when I was fresh out of high school in undergrad who frankly, annoyed me quite a bit, but I also had an inkling to continue to be compassionate to her given a few things about her life/background/family

I ran into her two years ago. Last week, her daughter turned 1. This girl, let’s called her “P”, is a really good example of why I never feel comfortable mocking trad wives

Her perfect trad husband, who was a shining young figure in the local religious community, volunteered in all sorts of groups, well loved in his workplace and everything else, beat her up at 1 month post-partum. I reached out to her after seeing her desperately asking for a stroller on a page, confused and slightly concerned knowing both of them came from wealthy backgrounds.

The reality for lots of tradwives living “perfect lives” is this: P was immediately ostracised. All the wealth of her husband and her family meant absolutely nothing if she wasn’t in favour and doing what she was told. Her child and her well-being didn’t matter. P, at 25 years old, was basically deemed an oopsie, and left on her own to figure out how to pay for herself, a baby, find housing, and every other task you can think of.

Having known many of these women (and supported many of these women), another factor most people don’t consider is this: they are intentionally raised to be helpless. When I immediately offered my support to P, she really needed it. This young woman needed to be guided through how to apply for government assistance, how to weigh up rentals and apply for them, how to apply for jobs, how to sign up for childcare. How to sign up for your own power and internet, and how to connect them.

It wasn’t that she was “stupid”, or incapable, or spoiled. While it looks like they’re being sheltered, in reality, these women are practically being held hostage. Sure, they might be allowed to learn things that are expected of them (see: basic cooking, baking, cleaning, child rearing, women’s bible studies, hosting, and so forth) but they are heavily controlled from family life into marriage life, and they are never given the opportunity or the reality of what many of us would consider basic adult tasks.

She’s doing okay now. Her daughter turned 1, is happy and healthy. They live frugally, but they have a roof over their heads and the essentials. I often babysit for her so she can attend counselling, or go to a woman’s support group. She is painfully aware that she has so much to learn about how to live as an adult.

I don’t envy tradwives, but I don’t find any joy in mocking them either. Even when they live the most picturesque lives, they’re also practically living a real life Jenga game. If (and often, when) it comes tumbling down, they’re screwed too, and they often have 0 skills to help themselves or find community (that again, isn’t carefully curated).

[flame-shadow]

hey did you know??? that if you stop stretching and maintaining mobility in your body then it goes away?? things get tight and you can't move the way that you used to??? and when you decide to try getting a stretch routine going that the first week fucking sucks because you keep going 'damn i used to be able to do this no problem' and then you have to switch gears and be kind to yourself and just focus on getting better from here instead of berating yourself for dropping the good habits in the first place??? and your body never stops aging so you gotta keep taking care of it and sometimes you gotta take care of it extra in certain areas because of things that happened when you were younger and it's boring and sometimes hurts but it's so necessary???

i am yelling this at myself right now i am going through An Experience (trying to get into a routine of body maintenance again for my physical and mental health)

[goldensunset]

curious about something so i want to conduct a free-response survey. who (or what) first comes to your mind when you hear the name sebastian

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(break so that you see the post independently before any tags)

[secondbeatsongs]

somehow instead of saying "as a treat", I've started using the phrase "for morale", as if my body is a ship and its crew, and I (the captain) have to keep us in high spirits, lest we suffer a mutiny in the coming days.

and so I will eat this small block of fancy cheese, for morale. I will take a break and drink some tea, for morale. I will pick up that weird bug, for morale.

I'm not sure if it helps, but it does entertain me

[welcometogrouchland]

just finishing first semester of 2nd year of uni. here are the best MSPaint drawings I've made during lectures so far

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[manhattan-gamestop]

Me explaining why my grades were/are shit