#And of course now I'm worried for Marx

[desultory-novice]

“A Beautiful Sunset”

CW: body horror, mind break

...

I know-kirby-saved-me-he-wouldn’t-just-leave-me-like-this-not-when-it-hurts-so-much-please-make-it-stop-where-are-you-Kirby-

...

...

...

My original sketch/idea had the two of them actually alright and safe in Dream Land, just plagued by memories, they being the lone “survivors” of having their Souls weaponized...

...Then cursed True Arena lore kicked in and now they’re not okay but since the Master Crown stole his eyes, Magolor can’t even see and he’s driven to hallucinating out of desperation and pain

Edit: I turned this into a whole mini series...

Part 2 “The Sun Never Sets” Part 3 “Screams of Joy” Part 4 “Visitors” Part 5 “A Perfect Circle”

Relevant: “Conditional”

Prologue: “Selfish Needs”

[artistsfuneral]

The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.3

“Well some of us decided to make use of the daylight and get supplies,” Jaskier answered, proudly holding up their new belongings. The Cat Witcher frowned at him, head cocked to the side, “Rope? What on earth do we need rope for, it's a mountain path not a cliff climbing exercise.” Jaskier rolled his eyes and – pointedly ignoring Aiden – knotted the rope to the side of his pack. He'd keep the charm in his belt pouch for now. “I mean seriously, Jaskier. Wouldn't food have been better? It's not like I can help a lot in that department, given the overall,” Aiden stopped himself from continuing and waved at himself with a sour face. Jaskier sighed.

He really couldn't phantom when he had developed the habit of running into half-dead witchers in need of heroic rescuing, but at this point it had happened too many times to still be considered a coincidence. Much like it had been the case with the other three Cats, the Viper, the Griffin pair and who afterwards had insisted on being called his Crane Wife, Jaskier had found Aiden just on time. After the failed assassination attempt in Yspaden and a horrible week spent hiding in the alleys and basements of Luton, Jaskier had collected enough coin and courage to head east, towards Kaedwen. Then, when traveling through the forests of Gelibol, he suddenly came across a merchant's cart and a man with amber eyes who introduced himself as Roland Treugger. Despite the fact that the man was an excellent liar, more so than the backstabbing cretin Valdo Marx himself, Jaskier almost instantly understood that there was something off about the merchant. Lo and behold, Jaskier wasn't being paranoid and the noise he heard coming from the inside of the wagon was not some caged animal to be sold at the next market, like Treugger had insisted, but Aiden bleeding onto the floor. Jaskier remembered very vividly how after that particular discovery he had turned back around and looked at the other man with a look so dispassionate it made Treugger stumble backwards. What Jaskier – despite Aiden's constant insisting – did not remember was the fact that Treugger had straight out stumbled into Jaskier's blade. Sixteen times. It certainly was a nice thought, but alas Jaskier was nothing but a humble bard and the short sword he carried with him was mostly for decoration. Aiden didn't believe him for a second.

Nevertheless the damage had already been done and while the Cat Witcher was lucky enough for both of his broken legs to heal properly, the same couldn't be said about his left arm or eye. In the passing day he lost both. Over his many years of travel the bard had to witness countless heartbreaking fates, but watching Aiden wake up only to realize what gruesome things had been done to him would stick with Jaskier for a long time. Aiden, like any witcher, was saved by his astonishingly strength and tough heart. His humor helped a lot too, as Jaskier was quick to learn.

Spending a fortnight hidden away in the forests had given them enough time to get to know and befriend each other. So when a troop of nilfgaardian soldiers found their camp, splitting up wasn't on the table anymore. Now Jaskier was stuck with a new travel companion and around a hundred horrible jokes on his mind about how Aiden was all-right, even if there was hardly anything left of him.

“No need to worry, sunshine, you forgot that I've been following Geralt around for around a century or so, I know my outdoor survival.” The bard chimed in, trying to lighten the mood again. Instead he watched how Aiden's right eye tightened. “Yeah, about that-” the witcher started, but was promptly cut off by him again. “Figuratively! Of course I meant it felt like a century. I was exaggerating, I'm a bard!” The deadpan look Aiden gave him was more than telling.

“Anyways! I think we really should get going. We've been pretty lucky so far, so I guess it's probably only a matter of time before someone comes looking for us.” The bard said, looking out the window of their small room to make sure that his fears hadn't become reality yet. “Need a helping hand?” he asked and watched with amusement as Aiden's face turned from disbelieve to being outright scandalized. “Fuck off!” He laughed and flipped Jaskier the bird, before finally getting out of bed. “You are going to end up in hell, bard,” the Cat Witcher tsked at him and went to collect his clothes from a stool nearby. “Oh shush, don't even pretend we don't share the same humor, pussycat.”

“Never said I was going to to meet Melitele either.”

“Ugh, sunshine, you're so dramatic!” Jaskier sighed, well aware of the irony behind his words. He watched, out the corner of his eyes, how Aiden slipped into his shirt, pants and coat. He struggled to secure the green sash around his waist that was supposed to keep his pants up like a belt. Aiden fought for a moment before managing to tighten the knot by holding part of the sash down with his elbow. Jaskier quietly thanked the gods for the small success and shouldered his pack and lute, checking the room twice for things he might have forgotten, while Aiden put on his boots and silver sword. He knew the Cat knew that he was watching like a hawk, but neither of them braced the topic of Jaskier's over-protectiveness.

Aiden was about to shoulder his sea sack when the two men were stopped mid-movement by loud voices coming from outside. Their eyes met and Aiden, closest to the open window, dropped to the floor just as quickly as Jaskier pressed himself against the far back wall of their room. Jerking his head towards the window he silently but sternly told Aiden to check out the commotion. After all he was the witcher, not Jaskier.

Aiden made a face at the bard that could we equally translated as 'Duh.' or 'Fuck you.' but dutifully inched closer to the window and listened. Not a moment later the witcher's pupil thinned into a predatory slit that fixated on Jaskier in a way that unmistakably meant trouble for them. “Redania,” Aiden mouthed without making a sound and then proceeded to make his way towards Jaskier, crawling on all... threes, in a way that he would've found hilarious if it weren't for their dire situation. “Soldiers,” Aiden whispered once he had reached the bard, “looking for a bard and his witcher in the name of the crown. They probably think I'm Geralt.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier cursed underneath his breath, his heart hammering inside his chest as he willed his brain to think of a plan.

“There's a back door!” he suddenly remembered, having seen one of the innkeeper's daughters enter the house through the kitchens. “If we make it downstairs in time, we can escape through the yard.”

Aiden bit his lip. “Too risky. We don't know if any of the soldiers are already inside the house and the courtyard could be closed off. I say we climb through the window in the hallway and down the balcony, then make a run for it. Through the market and straight into the forest.”

“You want to jump off a balcony with two freshly healed legs and then get us separated in a crowd, are you mad!?” Jaskier hissed and slapped his hand against Aiden's shoulder. “There's no way the courtyard is closed off! And even if, we can just climb up and out.”

“Oh, but that's not risky at all. What happens if they surround us?”

please like and reblog if you voted

✨🌿🌼✨

How do you pronounce Kaedwen in your head? like Cat-Wen or Kate-Wen? I've always said it like cat-wen, but I started watching the nightmare wolf movie thingy and I'm pretty sure they said kate-wen. and I didn't like it.

please tell me if you (don't) want to be tagged!

@mirrorthoughts @dwintu @whump-der-it-is @beneficialfondue @sinfulpetgirlrd @chaoticfandomthot @fingons-rad-harp @basilikum7 @siriusly-the-best-bi @snailqueen42 @cowboybuttconnoisseur @reluctantbroodingdads @starlghtstarbrite @merthurmagic @wren-of-the-woods @araglas1989 @joestarlight @alaskawho @kore888 @toapoet @thehorrorandme @inanoldhousewrites @dinotree506 @gregre369 @life-as-a-gamergirl @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @magdelane @wren-of-the-woods @cinary

currently 3 of you need to check their tag settings

[zettatoad]

rating every kirby villain-turned-ally by how evil they are after becoming an ally

dedede: gotta start with the classic. if he were an actual king i might have to judge him for the sins of his ancestors but since he's consistently called a "self-proclaimed king" he's fine. he probably just found an abandoned castle and went "woah... my castle now" and then the waddle dees went "wait we have a king? that's so awesome i'm gonna follow this guy forever." anyways he's a rival and a selfish hedonist but not actually evil. arguably not ever evil but that's a philosophical debate i'm not going to get into. while not the first to help, and still sometimes a troublemaker, he's a dependable companion when it counts

meta knight: look he was attacking dreamland in revenge of meta knight for, reasons??? because he thought they were too lazy??? kind of a lame reason meta knight. the point is he counts. meta knight spends most of his time as an honorable fight seeker, like if vegeta was never evil and his goku was a baby, but he'll step up to the plate when it's time to protect the planet or whatever. he is certified Not Evil. a reliable ally whenever he shows up

dyna blade: that's right, dyna blade counts too. as we all know dyna blade was just trying to feed her kids in super star. beyond that, i believe birds are like ghosts and just sort of do things arbitrarily. rating: Not Ever Evil

marx: okay this freaking guy. i don't think marx has changed literally at all after being beaten by kirby. like in star allies he's still got his powers. the only lesson he learned is to not pull any shenanigans while kirby's around. he is probably waiting for a villain to actually defeat kirby so he can swoop in and steal all their power, and every time kirby beats some horrible god he goes "wow~ you're such a great hero, kirby~!" while being more mad than anyone has ever been

shadow kirby: hold on i'm checking the wikirby page because i needed a refresher on his lore and was reminded that he was never actually a villain in the first place. he was always helping out. my bad

dark meta knight: okay i gotta show everyone this image before i begin my analysis

look at him. he is full fist gripping that crayon. he is holding it like a child would. he's drawing his cool badass epic sword. he's having fun. he seems like he's a threatening villain ("what if meta knight were evil... that would be so sick and twisted") but really he does not know a single thing. it's gap moe

this may be controversial but my rating is: he was never actually evil in the first place. like, he was serving dark mind, and might have had some influence in turning sectonia evil and huge (maybe??? possibly???), but he is not evil. i think he's more like that one image where he doesn't have empathy and goes into a dissociative state and commits atrocities. this of course does not imply that he is good. but the potential is there

daroach: on one hand, daroach was kind of never actually evil, since all he did was steal a slice of cake and get mind controlled. on the other hand, he IS the leader of a gang of thieves, and stealing is sort of evil. like marx, he has clearly learned not to get on kirby's bad side and will help out on occasion. but if kirby needs to grab a treasure i doubt daroach would hesitate to take it first. all in all: not a good guy exactly but in the grand scheme of kirby villains, he's pretty small-scale. not much to worry about. he can't even destroy a planet

bandana waddle dee: thought i was done talking about characters who briefly opposed kirby during super star? think again. this guy's pretty much just loyal to dedede with all that entails but he seems to have a better relationship with kirby than his king does. a nice guy who likes to help out. we all love him

magolor: i've 100% completed the magolor epilogue and minimal spoilers here but that basically confirms that he's still a little bastard. like he seems to have gone "wait, losing all your friends because you betrayed them sucks," and if you want to get speculative he could have been influenced by the master crown a bit since before KRtD's opening and that might have upped his evil rating for that game. outside of that he learned nothing. he just decided that selling gem apples and running theme parks would be more fun. he loves making an attraction where close friends throw explosives at each other. his continued pseudovillainy is of course obvious, given that he has performed the most dastardly deed of all kirby characters: Selling Real-World Microtransactions. perhaps it would be better if he got defeated once and for all but unfortunately evil wizards give kirbies lots of enrichment. unless he teams up with marx and ends up in some sort of betray-off, we're stuck with him. to be clear i think he's awesome except the microtransactions

taranza: on one hand, even in triple deluxe he wasn't exactly evil, he just wanted to help out his huge, evil friend. on the other hand, kirby did kind of kill his friend. like there were some circumstances there but it'd be understandable if there was some resentment

claycia: does it count if she was only a villain because she was mind controlled and is only an ally during the final boss fight and ending of her game? i'm going to say yes because i've already included bandana waddle dee. obviously if you were being mind controlled you probably were never evil in the first place. but we don't know much about claycia's inner life. it could go either way

hold on i was on claycia's wikirby page and i noticed that drawcia shows up alongside her in some illustrations: i've played it pretty fast and loose with my criteria but i'm going to say this doesn't count as being a villain-turned-ally. documenting my process

^one of the images in question. sectonia is also there and not only has she also never been on kirby's side in a video game, i'm pretty sure she died. so this is debatably canon at best

back to your regularly scheduled programming, it's susie: susie is like. still a capitalist. i had to review her star allies pause screens and apparently she wants to bring back her dad's evil company and keep doing colonialism? like come on susie don't be this dumb. don't make kirby take you to the guillotine

addendum: kirby-polis pointed out in the tags that the original japanese star allies pause screens do not reference mechanizing planets which opens the much more sensible possibility that she went "i want to make this company be how it was before my dad got thralled by a big evil computer." but said original pause screen text also quotes her saying "i will exterminate the uncivilized." which is... questionable at best. updated verdict: susie will be spared for now but she maybe still has some learning to do

the three mage-sisters and hyness: i guess technically hyness hasn't helped kirby out yet but he's part of the package. we do not get a great deal of insight on what the lower-end believers of their religion are like so i'm optimistic about the possibility that the whole "reviving an ancient god of destruction" incident will result in religious reforms, where the sisters take on leadership positions while hyness is reduced to having more of a figurehead role where he can't revive any more ancient gods of destruction. but they might not do that and instead continue being a weird evil cult. hard to say

the beast pack: the beast pack was only being evil because their leader was mind controlled, and presumably they would feel a great debt to kirby for saving both him and their planet. but they're also a rowdy bunch. i wouldn't be surprised if they went and caused a ruckus

elfilin: hey, wait a minute! you're not a villain! you're just a little guy! you don't belong in this list! get out of here, you scamp!

[project-do-over]

Violet_M00n is available

Violet_M00n: Heyyy sorry for the delay! Got caught up with work stuff...

Bookwyrm1982: literally no time has passed.

Violet_M00n: Right. Right. Habit, I guess.

Violet_M00n: Anyway, what else did you want to know about the future?

Bookwyrm1982: Well you said you had AI, right?

Violet_M00n: Well... Yes and no. We have programs people *call* "AI", but they're really just advanced machine learning. They can't actually think or anything, but they can put together a surprisingly human sounding sentence, and draw things that could at first be mistaken for art.

Violet_M00n: But of course it's awful. The results are full of factual errors or have way, way too many fingers, companies are trying to use it to replace creatives, and it burns a ton of energy doing essential nothing of value.

Violet_M00n: So could you go on ChatGPT and talk to a convincing facsimile of a human but underneath it's just a more advanced version of Dr. SBAITSO.

Bookwyrm1982: that's a shame. But then again at least you don't have to worry about them taking over the world, right?

Violet_M00n: Luna, at this point I'd welcome our robot overlords. Better than the fucks we have running things these days.

Bookwyrm1982: Are things that bad?

Violet_M00n: *sighs* no, I suppose not. I still have a job, a family, I can exist in public without fearing persecution, and I'm mostly free to do as I please.

Violet_M00n: But trust me when I say the people who very much want to take that away have much more power than feels comfortable.

Bookwyrm1982: that sounds scary though.

Violet_M00n: More enraging than scary, really. Just so many people who can't or don't want to see things from anyone's point of view from their own.

Violet_M00n: Well, that, and capitalism.

Bookwyrm1982: I thought capitalism was good though?

Violet_M00n: *sigh* we have so much to learn.

Violet_M00n: Honestly though, and you should be able to find these online if not in the library, but read some Marx.

Violet_M00n: It may not resonate a lot yet, but it will.

Bookwyrm1982: I always thought that Communism was a good idea in theory but it needed a global revolution to actually work.

Violet_M00n: You may be on to something there. And someday, hopefully in our lifetime, we may get there. But it's a long, long road. Especially here in America, where it's been used as a boogeyman for like 80 years now.

Violet_M00n: (55 for you)

Bookwyrm1982: Wow, that's.... I'm not sure I want to grow up now.

Violet_M00n: Well maybe your timeline will invent actual time travel and you can keep that wish. Luna knows I wish I could.

Bookwyrm1982: so

Bookwyrm1982: um

Bookwyrm1982: Can we talk about something more fun? Like, what's something good in your time?

Violet_M00n: Well Magic the Gathering is still pretty good.

Bookwyrm1982: We're still playing? I kinda lost interest and stopped following it a year or two ago.

Violet_M00n: Oh yeah, we're still playing, and the game is... Well, it's way different from your time but also at its heart the same.

Violet_M00n: Like it's still Magic but also there's D&D and cowboys and Gandalf, for some reason. It's cool but it's also kinda scary how much they're pumping out.

Bookwyrm1982: Oh that sounds cool! Is it just D&D and LOTR?

Violet_M00n: They've done a ton of crossovers, they call them "Universes Beyond". They've done, let's see...

Violet_M00n: Dr. Who, Warhammer, Assassin's Creed, Final Fantasy, they're doing Marvel soon, Transformers (those are Hasbro though so they were among the first), The Walking Dead, Fortnite, Stranger Things (you... Don't know about those yet, don't worry), um, lots more stuff too that I'm forgetting, but those are mostly in like five or ten card bundles.

Violet_M00n: Unlike LotR which was a full set, with boosters and everything. And the best selling set of Magic in all time, unless Bloomburrow has passed that already.

Bookwyrm1982: Really cool! You'll have to send me some pictures sometime!

Violet_M00n: I'll be sure to downscale them appropriately this time!

Bookwyrm1982: What else do we like? Is Star Trek still running?

Violet_M00n: It had a long break there where it seemed we weren't going to get any more Star Trek.

Violet_M00n: But then JJ Abrams (a director/producer of some renown) made a Star Trek movie that was meh, but good enough to get people interest in the franchise again.

Violet_M00n: Soon after that Paramount spun up Star Trek Discovery, which had a rocky start but Grew The Beard soon enough for them to greenlight Star Trek Picard. Then Lower Decks, Strange New Worlds, Academy, and probably one or two others I'm forgetting (not to forget Short Treks and Very Short Treks).

Violet_M00n: Prodigy! I forgot Prodigy!

Bookwyrm1982: The online service?

Violet_M00n: No, Star Trek Prodigy. It's a CG animated series for kids made by Nickelodeon.

Bookwyrm1982: You're making that up.

Violet_M00n: I swear, it's true. Lower Decks is animated too, but 2D, and it's for adults and probably the best thing Star Trek has ever created. It's hilarious!

Violet_M00n: SNW follows Captain Pike on the 1701

Bookwyrm1982: And Discovery?

Violet_M00n: Complicated! It starts out pre-TOS but... Spoilers! And Picard is... Also here!

Bookwyrm1982: Is that about young Picard or something?

Violet_M00n: Old Picard, but close.

Bookwyrm1982: Hey my mom... our mom... just told me to get off the computer so

Bookwyrm1982: ttys!

Violet_M00n: See you in literally no time at all!

Bookwyrm1982 is away

[spilledbutter]

👀 I'm here for leaving a prompt! I'll obviously ask for Jaskel! 😬 And uhm... fake dating and mutual pining bc... ofc, they're idiots in love?? 🥺

ask and you shall receive! up on ao3, too 🙂

part two coming in the next few days! ---- Title: like cardiac arrest (high voltage when we kiss)

----

Summary: Jaskier needs a date, fast. Problem is, dating is harder than it used to be. Luckily, Eskel's willing to help him out.

Or: Two idiots in love think it's a great idea to pretend to date each other. No one is fooled.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 2k+ | CW: coarse language, sexual thoughts

----

The idea was absolutely ridiculous. Jaskier had truly outdone himself this time, really.

It had all started with Valdo fucking Marx, because of course it had. The idiot, for all that Jaskier found him lacking, could throw a decent party, and his Yule parties were all the rage. They’d been at a bar together with Essi, Shani, and Priss one evening. During a lull when the ladies had excused themselves to get refills, Valdo had turned to him with a sly smirk on his smarmy face.

“Julian, dear, you are coming to my party this year, right?”

Jaskier had narrowed his eyes at his given name, mistrusting of the other man’s tone for all that the words seemed like an invitation.

“Of course, Valdo, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he smiled, full of teeth, “Though I expect the caterer this year will actually have taste buds–honestly, Valdo, I don’t know what you were thinking last year. Cocktail wieners? The scandal.”

Valdo stood there fuming silently for a moment before that damned smirk covered his thin lips again. 

“Nothing but the best for you, Julian. Though I expect you’ll be bringing a date this year? Your showing last year was so pitiful, really, and I’d hate for you to shame yourself publicly like that again.” 

He was referring, of course, to Jaskier’s horrible (but inevitable) break-up with Tess de Stael, his on-again off-again for the last few years. They’d had a record-breaking blow-out the weekend before Valdo’s party, and he’d showed up, alone and bleary-eyed, and gotten drunk out of his damn mind. Tess had showed up fashionably late, a young, handsome reprobate in tow, and had proceeded to suck his face the entire night. Jaskier, in response, had taken an entire bottle of vodka from the bar and holed himself up in a corner, licking his wounds.

He had nothing to say for it now, of course, least of all to Valdo. Dating was… hard. He’d sort of missed the online dating wave while he was with Tess, and since then, every time he opened one of those sites–he became overwhelmed with the repetition and disconnectedness of it all. It was so… detached. He absolutely hated it, hated swiping left and right, being judge, jury, and executioner for the short bio that summarized all that a person was. So he’d stopped that rather quickly, figuring he’d try his luck the old-fashioned way.

It had worked, sort of. He’d met a few lovely people, spent a few lovely nights wrapped up in them (and over them and under them). It never went anywhere, though. He definitely hadn’t met anyone he liked enough to parade in front of his friends–he loved them, truly he did, but they could be a mindless pack of hyenas when they spotted prey. He didn’t want to subject a passing fancy to that. 

“Oh? Nothing to say to that, hmm? Don’t worry–I’ll make sure the reservation is for Julian Pankratz, party of one.” Valdo laughed and laughed at his own, shitty joke, and Jaskier was filled with an icy resolve to prove him wrong. 

Jaskier straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. He smiled, sweet and demure and menacing, batting his eyelashes at Valdo. “No need, my dear, I have just the person in mind. I know your memory’s fading in your advanced age, so text your planner now and let them know I’ll be needing a plus one.”

Valdo scoffed, but couldn’t hide the intrigued glimmer in his eyes. “Alright then. Just make sure your mystery date actually shows up, and not with another date this time, hmm?”

Jaskier gave him the bird before heading off to the bathroom to panic.

Shit. Now he needed to figure out who the fuck he was bringing.

—-

It was going horribly. A disaster, really.

Jaskier had been to bar after bar, cafe after cafe, movie after restaurant after yoga class and more, all in search of the love of his life. He’d started browsing discount sites, picking up new hobbies in the hopes that he’d meet new people and seem fun and interesting in the process. He’d even gotten desperate enough to reopen his old dating profiles, searching for someone at least passable. For all that Jaskier was flirtatious and outgoing and gregarious, it was extremely hard to find someone he could connect with enough for it all to seem genuine. 

It was fucking hard. He was running out of jokes, and get-to-know-you questions, and cute outfits. And patience. If he had to ask one more bland person what their hobbies were or what they would bring to a deserted island he was going to blow his fucking top.

He was running out of time. He only had a month until the party, the bitter November wind a reminder as it blew through the shoved-open door of his favorite local haunt. He was going to look so fucking pathetic if he failed.

He said as much to Eskel through his fingers, head in his hands. 

Eskel, his longtime friend from college, had met him for drinks and was currently witness to him being an absolute mess. The other man, in his master’s program at the University of Oxenfurt, didn’t find time to make it out very much. When he did, it was usually with Jaskier or his brothers. Jaskier always tried not to let that get to his head, too prone to being love-drunk and floating on clouds in the other man’s presence as it was. 

Eskel–smart, sweet, handsome Eskel–who had always been out of his reach. Eskel, his best friend’s older (“By only a month,” Geralt always eye-rollingly reminded him) brother, who he’d met in freshman year when Geralt had taken his pitiful roommate with a shitty home life back home with him for Thanksgiving. Eskel, who couldn’t seem to help himself from laughing at Jaskier’s jokes even when they weren’t that funny, who came out to Jaskier’s first big gig even when he had his thesis defense the next day, who always, always made time for him. Eskel, the honest-to-gods love of his life–who could never, ever know. 

The man in his thoughts heaved a deep sigh, resting a comforting hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “I don’t know why it even matters, Jask. You hate Valdo Marx. Since when does his opinion mean anything to you?”

Jaskier groaned, not wanting to explain the real reason, the dreary path his thoughts had taken. He dropped his head onto the bar in a true fit of pique, uncaring of the slightly-sticky surface leaving questionable residue on his cheek.

“It’s not that I care about Valdo-fucking-Marx, it’s–it’s the principle of the matter! Tess—” His voice came out more choked than he intended, and he cleared his throat, blinking hard. “Tess was–hard. To move past. I just keep thinking, what if…” 

He trailed off, running a frazzled hand through his hair. “What if I can’t find anyone else? What if, as shitty as our relationship was… that’s all I deserve? What if I never find anyone else?”

His voice had gotten quiet, now, the last few words coming out in a whisper. He found he couldn’t look Eskel in the eye, finishing his speech in the rim of his empty cocktail glass. Gods, he really was pathetic. 

“Jaskier.” 

The voice was warm and smooth like the sweetest mead. He looked up into eyes equally as warm–the color of fresh honeycomb, or the sun on a clear, summer day. Despite his best efforts, his stomach clenched, heart giving an anxious flutter. His friend looked serious, a slight furrow to his brow, as he gazed at Jaskier. It didn’t seem fair, given the conversation they’d been having, that all of this single-minded focus was on him. Melitele, help me, he’s so gorgeous. 

“You have to know that’s not true. You deserve the world, Jaskier. I know that… that someone out there sees that.” Eskel swallowed thickly and Jaskier found himself distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple. Jaskier’s mouth suddenly felt dry, the room too hot. He floundered, just on the wrong side of tipsy, for the right thing to say in response to a confession as earnest as that.

“Well! I’m sure you’re right, Esk, I’m just being silly. And drunk. You know vodka makes me sad.” He laughed at himself, as he always did when he wanted smoke and mirrors, when he needed to disguise the truth. Don’t. Don’t come any closer, I won’t be able to control myself. I’ll say what I really feel for you, what I always have.

Eskel continued staring at him in that quiet, thoughtful way of his. When Jaskier stopped his babbling and returned his eyes to Eskel’s, he noticed the other man seemed to be searching for something in his expression. What, he didn’t know. He must have found it, because eventually, Eskel nodded, seemingly willing to let the subject drop for now.

“Let’s get you home, then. No need to waste your money when you won’t even enjoy it.” 

Eskel stood and Jaskier followed him out into the cool, late-autumn night. The air was chilly and the street was wet from a recent rainfall. The streetlights shone brightly above them, making the cobblestones glimmer like jewels. They fell into step beside each other easily as they began the short walk home, Jaskier’s flat on the way to Eskel’s. 

It was quiet enough for Jaskier’s drink-addled brain to wander, unavoidably returning to the subject of his date. It wasn’t due to a lack of trying. He’d tried everything he could think of, truly. Maybe… Maybe it wasn’t the right time for him to find someone he really liked, or he surely would have found them already (pesky hidden feelings for Eskel aside). That didn’t change his situation, though. If only there was a way for him to get a date without having to continue like this…

The idea came to him in a bid of drunken genius. 

“That’s it!” He stopped in the middle of the street, grinning like a maniac. “Eskel, I’ve finally figured it out, you big, beautiful brute!” 

He flew towards Eskel and threw his arms around his neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against his cheek. Eskel, without hesitating, caught him around the waist, a faint dusting of pink rising up his neck. Jaskier was too pleased with himself to notice.

“What, Jask? What did you figure out?”

Jaskier beamed from his place in Eskel’s arms. “I thought I needed to find someone to date seriously, because how else would Valdo and the others believe it was real? But–and hear me out–what if I hired someone instead?”

Eskel looked downright flabbergasted. “You want to hire a date to the party?” 

Jaskier was nodding furiously, pacing away from Eskel as he thought. “Yes, I can see it now! I’ll put it on one of the local neighborhood message boards: CUTE SINGLE LUTE PLAYER SEEKS DATE TO TRUMP SWORN ENEMY.” He fanned his hands in front of him with a flourish. “Honestly, how could anyone not want to? The mystery! The intrigue! Me!”

Jaskier had stars in his eyes, thinking he’d finally found a plausible solution to his problem. Surely hiring someone would be much, much easier than finding someone to actually date. Because that was impossible–the closest he’d gotten in the years since he’d met Eskel being Tess. The truth, kept locked in a box deep within his heart, was something he didn’t like looking too closely at. His most closely guarded secret–that he didn’t think anyone would ever mean as much to him as Eskel. That’s why he’d never been able to really commit to another. That’s why he was alone, now, fleshing out this stupid plan. The man before him bested all others, and he didn’t even fucking know it. What an absolute crock.

He felt a hand catch his elbow, pulling him from his musings, and spun around to face his friend. Eskel was… blushing? Now that was unusual. Jaskier took a closer look at him, and, oh, he was definitely flushed, and he wouldn’t meet Jaskier’s eye.

“Esk? What is it?” Jaskier was overcome with immense concern, rarely seeing the other man like this. “Are you feeling okay? I always tell you that you work too hard, you don’t rest enough, you–”

“I could… be your date. If you want.”

Jaskier froze, as still as the dead. There was absolutely no way he’d heard that correctly. No possible fucking way.

Eventually, Jaskier found the strength to croak out, “What?”

Eskel, for his part, flushed even harder. “If you’re going to–hire someone, post it on a message board–it’s not safe, Jaskier. Gods only know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. I’d rather you were safe. I can just as easily be that person for you–if you’re going to hire someone, anyway.” 

Jaskier was struck dumb, mouth hanging open. He idly heard his mother’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him that was a sure way to catch flies. 

Eskel continued in a murmur. “Besides, it would probably be easier than with a stranger, since we know each other so well.”

Eskel seemed to realize, belatedly, that Jaskier had yet to respond. He seemed nervous, his fingers twitching, before he moved to rub at his scars–old, worn, faded with time. Still so beautiful. “So, songbird? What do you say?”

Jaskier was stunned. There was no way around it, he was absolutely speechless. Valdo Marx would be cackling if he could see him now. 

There was no way he could do this. Eskel made good points, of course he did, he was the smartest person Jaskier had ever fucking met, but Jaskier’s poor fool heart could never last if they did this. Not when faced with a mockery of what he’d always wanted. 

And yet… His words from earlier returned, unbidden, to his head. What if... What if this was his only chance? He and Eskel could never be, not really. Eskel was light years away from him, untouchable as a shooting star. Jaskier would rather suck Valdo’s big toe than press his luck and ruin everything he and Eskel had. But if they were “dating”… This could be his one chance to see what being with Eskel would really be like. 

He’d wanted him for so, so long. Gods only knew how much he’d wanted. He would be a fool–-to do it, not to do it. 

He was trapped in his indecision, but sensing the rapidly rising tension in his friend made up his mind for him. He could never let Eskel think poorly of himself, that it was him, that he was the reason for Jaskier’s hesitation. Even if it was true, in a way, it was nothing like the way Eskel was probably thinking.

Jaskier let out a weary, bone-deep sigh. “...Okay. We’ll do it. But I think we need to come up with some terms. Ground rules.”

Eskel seemed to relax, looking a little lighter, but he still held tension in his shoulders, around his mouth. He looked like he was expecting a blow at any moment. “Okay. Like what?”

“Well… We’ll need this to be believable. You’re right–it’s good we’ve known each other so long, but that might actually make it harder to sell to everyone.” Jaskier rubbed his jaw in thought. “We need a story. For how we got together.”

“Hmmm. How about… after Yenn’s birthday?” 

They’d all gone out together, the whole group of them, for Yenn’s thirtieth a few weeks ago. She wanted to greet the new decade with a bang and they’d all gone barhopping together, getting increasingly trashed as the night wore on. 

“We could say we went off together. One thing led to another, we confessed our feelings…” He shrugged, like it was nothing, like he wasn’t tearing Jaskier apart with a few simple words. “Seems realistic enough to me.”

Jaskier, heart aching, nodded. “Okay. We’ll also need to–touch. More than we usually do, I think. I’m usually very… affectionate, in relationships, so it’s to be expected.” He cleared his throat, already regretting this, because he was an absolute idiot. “Would you be okay if I held your hand? Gave you a cuddle?”

“You already do those things, Jask, so that’s not even a stretch.”

“What about… if I kissed you?”

That stunning, cherry-red flush was back, high on Eskel’s cheeks, and this time, Jaskier noticed. He was enchanted, unable to look away. So godsdamned lovely. 

Eskel seemed embarrassed as he nodded in agreement. “Assumed that would be part of it, anyway. ‘S fine.”

There wasn’t enough air in the world right now. His heart was pounding against his ribs, wanting to fly out of his chest and into the hands of the man before him. An offering on a silver platter–please, I love you, let me be yours.

Jaskier felt like he was dying inside. He smiled, extra bright. 

“Okay. We’ll start this weekend.”

(1/2)

[caendtowntrash]

Is there any hope for Endtown? Aaron seems to be somewhat worried about the floundering state of his Patreon, and the rumors of two major arcana being Endtown focused makes me think he, at least in some level, realizes he has to right the ship somehow. I feel like this arc might be his final indulgence into Marx wankery, killing Eye, and resetting the universe. Maybe that's just me being too hopeful though.

Personally I'm REALLY skeptical.

I've gone over or added to thoughts about how much of a cancer Marx is a few times already so I can keep explaining that facet to a minimum for another difficult angle in the story itself: he's completely annihilated the scope and worse trivialized any reason for investment in the actual characters. Think about it for a second: there's an established multiverse where copies of the main characters exist at any point of their lifespan, from start to finish, and can be accessed by Marx at any point to do anything to them. Someone dies? Replace them! It's that easy! Why does anyone have to be invested anymore if Aaron already established that Cardoodle hybrids are quite literally stupid and shallow people, Topsiders cannot 'cure' the mutation phenomenon or make it stop and thus will spitefully persist as humanity's rage as it dies or become inhuman mockeries that will kill and eat each other at a drop of a hat, and Marx caused this unnatural existence for unknown but frankly no good reason at this point. He just subjected inhabitants of a doomed world to live in a suffering hell and keeps doing it. And why should the audience care about anything when Aaron seemingly doesn't? The whole Benny situation unfolding right now was long overdue and feels more like he finally remembered that was the driving force behind the conflict for half of the Eden storyline he never resolved, and the resolution is Marx constantly mocking and chiding Duffy for having real human emotions and wants in a storyline that doesn't give a fuck. And that's the rub: the undercurrent of how the drama and stakes for the characters we're supposed to be invested in is a joke to Marx for him to fart on and dismiss despite the bones of Endtown being BUILT on the characters as well as their struggles and the drama of their lives in this world. If he were in any way planning on changing course it would have happened already, but the latest update alone is proof that isn't the case. He's still shitting on the characters for their feelings while simultaneously drawing them in emotional agony. With that kind of poisonous mindset how can any return to Endtown be positive when we last left Endtown at its most dramatic and lowest? With his track record I almost anticipate a soft retcon of what likely would develop after Pig Arc, same as what happened after Milk Trial, and that's being generous. Hope is if he finally establishes under no uncertain terms that Marx is a villain and the characters have to escape or conquer him somehow, until we see acknowledgements for that then just enjoy watching the fire burn, I know I am.

[motownfiction]

autumn magic

Lucy has always been in love with the summertime.

The days are longer, the clothes are sweeter, and everyday tastes like hot buttered popcorn and chilled lemonade. Anything can happen when the air is warm. Trips to 7-Eleven feel like adventures when the sun doesn’t leave the sky until half past nine. Endless time. That’s how it feels, and it’s what she loves.

She never gave much thought to her wedding when she was a little girl. She thought she’d probably be married because most people are, but she didn’t think about how it would look or when it would be unless Sadie was asking her directly. So, Lucy figured she’d just get married in June, her favorite month of the year, when the sun is friendly again, and the days are learning how to be themselves. She probably wouldn’t have minded a lemonade stand somewhere at the party, either.

But that was a long time ago. Last November, Lucy Callaghan married Will O’Connor at city hall in the middle of fall. Now, one year later, they have a baby girl and an anniversary to celebrate.

Lucy’s parents are looking after Elenore tonight. Of course, Lucy thinks it’s absurd, but she follows Will on the outing he planned, anyway.

“We don’t deserve to celebrate an anniversary like a normal couple,” she says as she climbs into the front seat of Will’s Maverick. “Anniversary celebrations are for people who do it right. High school, college, marriage, baby. Not … the reverse.”

“It’s not the total reverse,” Will says. “If somebody went to college before they went to high school, I’d be pretty impressed.”

“And disgusted. If you’d spent four years learning about Shakespeare, Jung, and Marx, would you really want to go back and worry about who was going to get the crown for Homecoming Queen?”

Will smiles. He turns the key in the ignition, and the radio comes right on. It’s never off – just sleeping.

You ask me if there’ll come a time / when I grow tired of you / Never, my love / Never my love …

Lucy sighs. She puts her hand on Will’s knee as he drives away.

“So,” she says, “are you gonna tell me where we’re going? Or am I going to have to guess? Which I’m very good at?”

“You’re not as good at guessing as you think.”

“I’m extremely good at guessing.”

“Yeah, but only after you get the most outrageous guesses out of the way.”

“It’s a strategy. Who the fuck are you to tell me it’s not a good one?”

“I don’t know. Thought I was your husband.”

Lucy sighs. Sometimes, she almost forgets – not that Will is her husband, exactly, but that he loves her. That he’s not actually trying to make fun of her, that he’s not some elaborate prank.

“Sorry,” she says. “Should I just … should I be surprised?”

“Nah, it’s OK,” Will says. “I thought I’d take you on a drive through Irish Hills to look at the leaves. I know they’re mostly on the ground by now, but it’s still pretty. Like you.”

Lucy tries not to blush. She tightens her grip on Will’s knee, and she feels him turn red instead of her.

“Gettin’ ahead of yourself there,” Will says.

“Am I?”

Will laughs and clears his throat at the same time, which Lucy previously would have thought was impossible. She doesn’t keep her eyes off him on the drive – not for one second. When they finally pull over, neither of them says a word to the other. Will just grabs Lucy around the waist and kisses her like he means it. She kisses him back harder, to prove she means it even more. She feels him smile against her lips, and there is nothing better. The red leaves fall down around their car, and she can still hear the radio as Will lies her down in the back of the car. Van Morrison, “And It Stoned Me.” She never thought of it as that kind of love song before, but from now on, she knows she’ll think of Will whenever she hears it.

Lucy has always been in love with the summertime.

But today – just today – she’ll take a little bit of autumn magic.

(part of @nosebleedclub november challenge -- day 11! i hate that i'm behind on this one, since it would have been nice to post it on 11/11 -- lucy and will's in-universe wedding anniversary 😭)

[stonewallsposts]

Political Compass Test

This is the political compass test. 

The description below is from the website. 

Please note that this isn’t a survey, and these aren’t questions. They’re propositions. To question the logic of individual ones that irritate you is to miss the point. Some propositions are extreme, and some are moderate. That’s how we can show you whether you lean towards extremism or moderation on the Compass. Your responses should not be overthought. Some of them are intentionally vague. Their purpose is to trigger reactions in the mind, measuring feelings and prejudices rather than detailed opinions on policy. 

The survey statements are written in italics. The agreement spectrum responses are after in capital letters. SD strongly disagree, D disagree, A agree, SA strongly agree 

On many of these I wrote my response as to why I answered the way I did. On some I didn't feel like it needed a response. 

Page 1- Just a few propositions to start with, concerning — no less — how you see the country and the world. 

If economic globalisation is inevitable, it should primarily serve humanity rather than the interests of trans-national corporations.  A 

I’d always support my country, whether it was right or wrong.  D 

I'd hope I have principles that I live by, and that when those principles are violated, I would stand by the principle, rather than the actor. 

No one chooses their country of birth, so it’s foolish to be proud of it.   D 

I get the logic here, but I don't know why a person shouldn't be proud of where they are from. But of course it also depends on how far you take that. I'm American and Sicilian. I'm genuinely proud of some things America has done. I'm also proud of the Sicilian heritage. It's cool to read of places where my ancestors were from in works from thousands of years ago. What does the founding of America, and the things that happened in Sicily mean for me as a human? Not much. I'm still just me and I'll have to make my way through the world on my own merits.  

Our race has many superior qualities, compared with other races.   D 

No. It's not a matter of race. I do believe certain cultures are superior to other cultures. But that isn't divided along racial lines. In fact, a superior culture can be multi-racial.  

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.   D 

I have principles that I want to live by. If I have an enemy, it would be someone who perhaps hates those principles. A third person who hates my enemy may still not accept my principles, and therefore not someone I want to align with. They may be my friend, but they are not necessarily so. 

Military action that defies international law is sometimes justified.  A 

Agreed. International laws are made by people. If those people's principles don't align with what is morally right, they may sanction something that is morally wrong. In which case, I don't have any problem with a military intervention that contradicts a morally deficient law, even when supported by a majority. I realize this is tricky, and there is wisdom in trying to seek redress through the established channels. And I'm not advocating a military adventure every time. I just don’t want to rule it out. I think it could be sometimes justified. 

There is now a worrying fusion of information and entertainment.   A 

I don't necessarily have a problem with fusing information and entertainment; that probably should be done at some level so the information isn't so dry as to be ignored. But entertainment can be used to obfuscate information... and it probably is being used that way currently. 

Page 2- Now, the economy. We're talking attitudes here, not the FTSE index 

People are ultimately divided more by class than by nationality.  D 

Wrong. This is a fundamental mistake Marx made in his internationalism. Poor people in America will identify more with upper class people in America more than with a poor person in Vietnam. American's still share the same language, culture, food, etc. The fascists actually got this correct when they sought to align people along national consciousness rather than Marx's class consciousness. 

Controlling inflation is more important than controlling unemployment.  D 

This is a trick question for me. I don't believe the government ought to be controlling either. A properly working free-market will adjust itself to control both those things. So I disagree not because I think controlling unemployment is more important, but because trying to control either with anything other than the free-market is a problem. 

Because corporations cannot be trusted to voluntarily protect the environment, they require regulation.  A 

While I like free-markets, they require a set of rules and a referee. this is an area where a referee must step in, and the only referee would be the government. 

“from each according to his ability, to each according to his need” is a fundamentally good idea.  SD 

One of Marx's axioms, and absolutely wrong. It sounds good in principle and turns out to be deadly in practice. It is dependent on humans fundamentally changing their nature from self-interested to community minded. When the Bolsheviks engaged in actually implementing this, Lenin decreed that it would take an iron fist to people's heads for an undetermined amount of time to change them. In fact, he said the communists couldn’t promise the change would take place, but they knew it was a goal towards which they were working. The only thing he could promise was the iron fist. They killed millions in the pursuit of this noble-sounding goal. 

The freer the market, the freer the people. A 

Yes. 

It’s a sad reflection on our society that something as basic as drinking water is now a bottled, branded consumer product.  D 

It is no reflection on our society whatsoever. Drinking water is also available for free from the tap.  

Land shouldn’t be a commodity to be bought and sold.  SD 

Another Marxist belief. Of course, he took it further to say that there should be no private property whatsoever. But it turns out that if people have no hope of ever improving their lot, they give up trying at all. My own view is that justice is a state of affairs that allows people to enjoy the fruits of their labor, and a fundamental part of that is the ability to own a plot of land and work it to produce fruits of your labor. 

It is regrettable that many personal fortunes are made by people who simply manipulate money and contribute nothing to their society.  A 

I can agree that it's regrettable. I don't think we can regulate it out, but it would certainly be better to reward people for contributing. 

Protectionism is sometimes necessary in trade.  A 

I'm against protectionism in general, but there may be times when the principle is being violated by another side that would merit reciprocal action. 

The only social responsibility of a company should be to deliver a profit to its shareholders.  D 

There is an argument to made for this, but I'm not going to subscribe to it. I think companies do have a responsibility to do what they do without offloading negative consequences to the public. 

The rich are too highly taxed.  A 

I agree that their rates are too high. I can't say, because I don't know, about how much they are actually paying. There are all kinds of tax write-offs, and I'm ignorant about the reasons those exist, or for what reasons they were implemented in the first place, so I can't say whether it would be better to remove them or not. 

Those with the ability to pay should have access to higher standards of medical care.  A 

This sounds like I mean poor people should get less because they are poor. But because I believe in a free market, I believe health care should be removed from insurance and any government intervention. In that case, naturally, those who can pay more will have access to better care. On the flip side, it should bring the cost of care down across the board. But that would never result in absolute equality of care. 

Governments should penalise businesses that mislead the public.  A 

A genuine free market requires restrictions on the ability of predator multinationals to create monopolies.  A 

Yes. A free-market still requires rules of fairness and a referee, and the only possible referee is the government. 

Page 3- Now a look at some of your personal social values … 

Abortion, when the woman’s life is not threatened, should always be illegal.  D 

While I'm against abortion, I would always choose the life of the mother. In general, I agree with the statement, but there may be other reasons and I don't want to preclude them. 

All authority should be questioned.  A 

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.  D 

This is a proposition for proportional response. And in general, I agree with proportional responses to injustice. But there may be occasions where mercy should be shown and I think we need to leave these cases up to humans to make judgment calls. 

Taxpayers should not be expected to prop up any theatres or museums that cannot survive on a commercial basis.  D 

Taxpayer support for cultural institutions is a benefit for all. I am in favor of their support. 

Schools should not make classroom attendance compulsory.  D 

I'm not sure who would attend if it weren't compulsory. 

All people have their rights, but it is better for all of us that different sorts of people should keep to their own kind.  D 

In general, I think we're better off being exposed to different ideas. It broadens our understanding of life. 

Good parents sometimes have to spank their children.  A 

It’s natural for children to keep some secrets from their parents.  A 

Possessing marijuana for personal use should not be a criminal offence.   A 

The prime function of schooling should be to equip the future generation to find jobs.   D 

I think the prime function of schooling should be to equip the future generation to develop their thinking across a broad spectrum of life. Apprenticing junior to a trade will equip him for work, but we wanted to move away from condemning classes to only certain types of work. A general education is how we open up doors to different areas. 

People with serious inheritable disabilities should not be allowed to reproduce.  D 

The most important thing for children to learn is to accept discipline.   D 

It's important that kids learn to accept discipline, but it's not the most important thing. 

There are no savage and civilised peoples; there are only different cultures.  A 

I agreed with this, but there are certainly cultures that are better than others. I don't feel like I can support the 'savage' v 'civilized' dichotomy proposed. There are certainly 'civilized' cultures that I don't want anything to do with. 

Those who are able to work, and refuse the opportunity, should not expect society’s support.   SA 

When you are troubled, it’s better not to think about it, but to keep busy with more cheerful things.  A 

In general, I agree because I think getting your mind off your troubles will help you. 

First-generation immigrants can never be fully integrated within their new country.   D 

It's tough for adults to fully integrate, because they come with fully formed cultural ideas from the old country. But if they come with the desire to integrate, they can. Children coming will, on the other hand, end up fully integrated. 

What’s good for the most successful corporations is always, ultimately, good for all of us.  D 

This one is worded in a way that I can't really agree with. What's "good" for the corporation anyway?  

But in another sense, if we, the consumers, vote with our dollars to support that corporation and make it successful, then the corporation aligns with our values. 

But there can be examples of crony capitalism that give corporations success, that isn't necessarily good for all of us. 

No broadcasting institution, however independent its content, should receive public funding.   A 

Not a fan of this, which I see as different from museums and parks etc. 

Page 4- … and how you see the wider society. 

Our civil liberties are being excessively curbed in the name of counter-terrorism.  D 

I gotta admit, I don't feel qualified to answer this, but I disagreed because I can't really think of a way in which I ever notice any curb, so I suppose I can't agree that my civil liberties are being 'excessively' curbed. 

A significant advantage of a one-party state is that it avoids all the arguments that delay progress in a democratic political system.   SD 

Bogus wording. While it is true that a significant advantage to a one party state is that it avoids arguments that delay.... implementation of that parties strategies... it may not be 'progress' at all, and it certainly isn't democratic. 

Although the electronic age makes official surveillance easier, only wrongdoers need to be worried.  D 

The problem with this statement is: who is going to decide what constitutes 'wrongdoing'. It establishes a turn-key authoritarian state, whereby any actions decided in the future as wrongdoing can be retroactively scraped to identify enemies of the state. 

The death penalty should be an option for the most serious crimes.  SA 

In a civilised society, one must always have people above to be obeyed and people below to be commanded.   A 

Ah, if only we could all get along without any kind of government. But our collective experience is that as soon as we congregate, the various individual ideas begin to step on the toes of others. This requires a government to act as a rule maker and arbiter. So there needs to be a law, and police, that are obeyed by the populace. I would disagree if one were to frame this as: there should be a hereditary class of citizens who rule, and another class of citizens who must submit to them. 

Abstract art that doesn’t represent anything shouldn’t be considered art at all.  SD 

My answer is mind your own business. 

In criminal justice, punishment should be more important than rehabilitation.  A 

While the possibility of rehab should be part of the criminal justice system, it's primary function is to remove the threats that criminals hold to society and hold criminals accountable for their action. 

It is a waste of time to try to rehabilitate some criminals.   A 

There will be some who will not respond to rehab efforts. That doesn't mean rehab shouldn't be on the table, just that certainly some will not respond to it. 

The businessperson and the manufacturer are more important than the writer and the artist.   D 

Both are important, in different ways. 

Mothers may have careers, but their first duty is to be homemakers.  A 

I do think that where kids are involved, parents have a duty to the home over career. So while this says 'mothers', I would also apply it to fathers. But on second thought, I perhaps would answer disagree, because the father could be the one who becomes the primary caregiver. 

Multinational companies are unethically exploiting the plant genetic resources of developing countries.  D    

Uh... wut? I'm ignorant about this, so I just put disagree. 

Making peace with the establishment is an important aspect of maturity.  D 

I suppose it depends on the establishment. In general, yeah, but there can be times when it wouldn’t be. I wouldn't have wanted to make peace with Communist Russia or Nazi Germany at citizens of either. 

Page 5- If you got through that okay, you'll find these propositions on religion a breeze. 

Astrology accurately explains many things.  SD 

You cannot be moral without being religious.  D 

I think christianity has been the driver of morality in the west, and people in the west will operate, consciously or unconsciously on those assumptions even when they no longer subscribe to the religion. 

Charity is better than social security as a means of helping the genuinely disadvantaged.  A 

I think it's better in principle- because it more directly connects humans with other humans. I don't know if it's more effective. 

Some people are naturally unlucky.  D 

Perhaps on an individual level, there are some people who suffer through an inordinate amount of 'bad luck'. Something about the question feels off to me though, and it's of course difficult for anyone to self-analyze the difference between bad luck and consequences. In general, 'luck' will even out over time and populations, but at the individual level, given that luck, by definition, is something that happens randomly, it's probable that there are cases where individuals suffer from an imbalance of poor luck.  

It is important that my child’s school instills religious values.  D 

Nope. 

Page 6- Finally, a look at sex. 

Sex outside marriage is usually immoral.  A 

A same sex couple in a stable, loving relationship should not be excluded from the possibility of child adoption.  D 

I know same sex couples exist, but I don't think their relationships are marriage material and I don't think they ought to have children. 

Pornography, depicting consenting adults, should be legal for the adult population.   D 

I wrestled over this. On one hand, I want to leave people alone even if I don't agree with them. But there are things we recognize as having societal repercussions, and I think this is an area that I'm growing more comfortable in regulating. I think the downstream effects of this on the population have gone beyond just people enjoying themselves in the privacy of their own homes. What could we practically do? I'm not sure it's possible to do anything. 

What goes on in a private bedroom between consenting adults is no business of the state.  SA 

No one can feel naturally homosexual.   D 

These days openness about sex has gone too far.   D 

The political compass defines the spectrums as right and left in economic terms, and authoritarian and libertarian in social terms 

[a-wayne-at-heart-too]

Ask: The 27th of April, the Last (and Long) Part

Bonus Ask:

[Stately Wayne Manor]

Jason: *helping Alfred clear out the dinner table* You think we should’ve asked Harley to stay for dinner? 

Alfred: If you wished to see Master Bruce’s hair turn to grey as you ate dessert, I don’t see why not.

Jason: *burps loudly and fans his breath away* Whoops. Sorry, Alf. Just my way of complimenting your cooking.

Alfred: *carrying the dishes to the kitchen* Then perhaps you should come here more often, Master Jason.

Jason: *following Alfred* I'd rather not cause any trouble.

Alfred: *stops in his tracks and turns to face Jason with a stern expression* And you don't think it troubles me that you feel unwelcome here?

Jason: *takes the dishes from Alfred’s hands, sets them on the kitchen island, and pulls him in for a hug* Alf, hey... I didn’t mean it like that. I know you guys care about me, it’s just...

Alfred: *sobbing into Jason's shirt* We've already lost you once... Once is enough, Jason...

Jason: *tightens the hug and gently plants a kiss on top of Alfred’s head* I know, I know... I'm back, Alf. I'm back.

>>> *** <<<

Dick and Barbara: *sitting on the carpeted floor in the study, enjoying the heat from the fireplace in front of them, going through a stack of photo albums*

Dick: *smiling fondly* Wow, these are old-old.... I should probably scan them before they crumble to pieces.

Dick: *stops at a page and points at a picture of Bruce and Jason on a boat, smiling, and holding up a tuna* Check this out, Babs... Aw, I love this one. I had a few days off from work, decided to spend it here. Somehow Jason convinced Bruce to take break from himself and go fishing.  

Dick: *talking animatedly* So, there we are on Bruce’s huge fishing boat, the Bat-2-Sea -- And Jason’s starting to get seasick because he’s been hanging out by the edge, waiting for a bite for hours -- The persistence on that kid! --  And he finally gets one! A big one, Babs -- *spreads his arms* -- and it was pulling down hard like you wouldn’t believe, but Jason just wouldn’t let go! -- So Bruce drops the glass of wine he’s holding and runs to grab him --

Barbara: What were you doing?

Dick: Who do you think took the picture? As I was saying -- Bruce, he -- he -- *starts to laugh so hard that he tears up* trips over Jason’s line somehow and falls into the ocean! *slapping-the-floor laughing* The World’s Greatest Detective, in his Batwaders, drenched like a wet bird... *sighs happily* You should’ve seen his face!

Barbara: *turns the page* Oh, I can see it now. Still stone-faced, but wet.

Barbara: *stops at a page and giggles* Aw... Will you look at that?

Dick: *looks at the photo Babs is pointing at and chuckles softly* That’s adorable. 

Barbara: Those scaly leotards fit him better than they ever did you, Boy Wonder.

Dick: *smirks* Whatever. But I have to admit, he did look great. He looked really... happy. I wish... I wish I saw more of him in action, you know? *voice breaking* I could’ve maybe trained him the way I did Tim and Damian --

Barbara: *rubs his back comfortingly* Dick...

Jason: *walks into the study* Dickie, I took some of your --

Dick: *clears his throat and wipes his eyes haphazardly* Hey, Little Wing!

Jason: Wait, are those our old family photos?

Barbara: *pats the empty spot beside her* C'mere.

Jason: *sits down and rubs his hands together* Where’s the one where Bruce goes kersplat in the ocean?

Jason: *flips through the pages and grimaces at his photos as Robin* You're not gonna use these to blackmail me, are you?

>>> *** <<<

Duke: *watches as his RPG character explodes for the fifth time in a row and shakes his head* You beat me again! You're so good at this game, man.

Jason: *snorts and puts his controller down* Dude, you weren't even trying. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were letting me win.

Duke: What? Naaaah... That's... Come on, why would I do that?

Jason: *gets up and shrugs, grinning knowingly* I dunno... 'Cause you like seeing me alive?

Duke: Yeah. It’s pretty awesome, actually.

Jason: *offers to bump fists* I gotta pack up. Good game, though. See you around, bro.

Duke: *exploding-fist-bumps with Jason* You too, bro.

Jason: *pats Ace the Bathound’s head as he exits the game room*

>>> *** <<<

Steph: *examining Jason’s face* You look really pale.

Cass: *pointing at various spots on his face* And you have a lot of... scars.

Jason: *sitting on a stool in front of Cass’s vanity dresser, staring at himself in the mirror and absentmindedly running a finger over the shirt-covered scar on his chest* Yeah? That bad, huh?

Steph: *grins* Nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

Jason: *rubbing his chin* You think so? I mean, I just came here to borrow a few weapons from Cass, but if you think I need a makeover...

Steph and Cass: *look at each other and squeal in delight*

>>> *** <<<

Tim: And this *holding up a minuscule gadget between his fingers for Jason to see* generates a force field over your entire body. The more the impact, the greater the energy generated. Schway, huh?

Jason: *nodding his head appreciatively as he takes the gadget and sticks it on the lapel of his leather jacket* Schway.

Tim: *proudly shows Jason a Bat-shaped breastplate * Now, this -- You're gonna love this -- It can turn you invisible to the naked eye for roughly 34.5 seconds, giving you time to do all kinds of offensive or defensive stuff. They won’t know what hit them, Jay. You’re basically gonna be invincible and Joker... Joker, he’s... he’s not... not gonna... *drops the breastplate unceremoniously* 

Jason: *places a hand on Tim’s shoulder* Thank you, Timbo. Really. But I'll be fine out there. You don't have to worry about me.

Tim: Yeah? Can you promise me that? Because I don’t think I can live through another one of Bruce's meltdowns.

Jason: *chuckles softly* Aren't they the best?

>>> *** <<<

Jason: *staring at an empty grave layered with concrete in the backyard*

Jason: *rolls his eyes* I know you're there.

Bruce: *comes out of the shadows and stands next to Jason*

Jason: Why'd you keep it?

Bruce: Because I'm a sentimental old fool.

Jason: This is just... creepy. Even for you.

Bruce and Jason: *stare at the empty grave in silence*

Jason: I've forgiven you.

Bruce: *glances at Jason, who could’ve sworn his adoptive father’s eyes were bloodshot* 

Jason: You know that, don’t you? I mean, I know we’re always going to disagree about Jok-- about him, and a few other things, but... You’ll always be family, Bruce. My family. 

Bruce: *looks at Jason, smiling wearily*

Jason: *grinning back at Bruce*

Bruce: *puts an arm around Jason’s shoulder* Thank you... Son.

Jason: *pulls Bruce in for a tight hug*

Bruce and Jason: ... 

Jason: Hey, remember that time you went kersplat in the ocean?

>>> *** <<<

Damian: *knocks softly on Jason's bedroom door* Todd.

Jason: *stuffing a duffel bag with clothes, homemade snacks, and weapons* Hey, kid, come in. I’m just getting my stuff ready --

Damian: These came from Mother. *drops a pile of books on Jason’s old desk*

Jason: *picking one after the other up excitedly* Tolstoy, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Shakespeare, Marx... No way... 

Damian: They’ve been with me for a while. But since you rarely come over, they’ve been collecting dust and taking up valuable space in my room. -Tt-

Jason: *wiping the dust off with his shirt and hugging each one* She kept them... These were my friends back when I was in the League... 

Damian: I didn’t realize we had more in common than just being my Father’s sons.

Jason: Wow. I have no idea how I’m supposed to bring all of these home. I mean, I got here on roller blades, for Bat’s sake -- 

Damian: *thrusts a piece of paper into Jason’s chest* This is for you.

Jason: *gingerly uncrumples it, revealing a painting of him and Damian*

Jason: *reading the writing in calligraphy underneath* “The Second Chance Robins”... *looks at Damian, feeling the tears well up in his eyes* You made this?

Damian: *looking down at his feet* When it’s my day... M-my d-day... Will you come over, too?

Jason: *gets down on bended knee to be at eye level with his little brother* Hey, buddy, look at me. Damian, look at me. Of course. Listen, we’ll do whatever you want. We’ll, um... We’ll take bad guys down together! Pull pranks on Tim! You name it, I got you.

Damian: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Todd.

Jason: I promise that I’ll do my best, okay?

Damian: You could stay the night, you know. You’re home anyway.

Jason: *ruffles Damian’s hair and grins* I'd like that. As long as you hang out here with me. And I promise I won't tell anybody because it'll ruin our reputation.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

If truth be told, @wingedskyes​ , Jason makes himself available on his Death Day. Because even if neither he nor his family and friends mention it, he knows that they need him just as much as he needs them.

Thank you for this Ask. It was both fun and just a tad bit heartbreaking to write. 

And thank you, @warrior-of-the-blue-moon​ , for the nice addition. 

See: Part 1, Part 2

[kisscookin]

Hi kisscookin, idk what to call you is it alright to call you that? I'm the one who ask you about totalitarian socialism thing btw... so you don't approve it? How abt China right now? They're also kinda.. have the same thing don't you think?

And btw.. I'm not Chinese so don't worry to answer my question if you don't approve it, or if you approve it.. I just want to know what people think abt them..

You can reply in private if you want...

Sorry if I seem to be too obtrusive.. I just.. want someone to talk about deeper things.. like.. my friends are kinda don't really know or don't care abt looking things behind the veil of what usually are known by general masses.. so.. I really want to discuss smt with like minded people..

And also.. I want to be your friend and talk about things.. if you don't mind cause I think you seem to be a nice and well informed person.. hmm. Thankyou.., I hope I hear from you soon! Take care! 💕💕 🍀

hi lovely ♡ actually I'm very happy that you asked me those questions! politics, history and international issues are my cup of tea! I love talking about it and giving everyone random lectures like I'm professor lol (one day I will hehe)

yes, I don't approve totalitarian systems. with authoritative systems.... I don't know, I would argue. but nevertheless I'm big "fan" of democracy.

don't worry, most of my friends also are not interested in such topics. if you want to chat with me more about issues that bother you or interest you, hit me up in DMs!

I've read bunch of books about China, Asian history in XX century, communists, totalitarian systems, especially USSR and Third Reich. also I passed my uni exams with the best grades so I think I possess enough knowledge to answer your question haha 😊

First of all, China is specific and unique in every meaning of this word. even communism there is... not really communism. to discuss China political system, we have to turn back time to overthrowing Qing dynasty, if I'm not wrong. that overthrowing happened in approx. 1920's — at the peak of the bolshevic revolution. bolshevic wanted to take world so badly and expand their sick ideology to every country. they didn't make it on the West side, because Poland stopped them in 1920 — that even is called The Warsaw Battle or The Miracle over the Vistula River in rough translation. the bolshevic started to mix and stir things up on the East side. they started to introduce their ideology step by step in China. that intensified when Joseph Stalin came to power. let's end the thread regarding USSR.

years later, in Chinese revolution (that lasted till 1945), there were two opposing sides. Kuo MinTang (called shortly KMT) and Mao Zedong's partisan army. Mao knew very well that China is indeed super unique country. he deducted that in order to take over China and introduce communism, he has to modify 'original' ideology that was based on Marx and Engels ideas. (btw Marx never worked as worker in factory! Engels was giving money to him and his family lol but Marx still managed to write 1000 pages book about working class. apparently very boring). because at that time China was rather poor, agricultural country, it was impossible to conduct revolution of the prolet. almost no factories as that time. he gained support and power through farmers, peasants, ex soldiers, killers, bandits. the most frustrated and furious group of Chinese people at that time. in big mental shortcut that's how he and his 'staff' came into power. of course KMT lost the battle of China, but its different story.

generally there were some similarities and differences between China People's Republic and rest of communist world back in the day. but differences started appearing more after Mao Zedong's death.

nowadays I would say that China is more authoritative country rather that totalitarian. I know they label themselves as communist country, and there's still only one ruling party, but look at the market — capitalism! stock markets, private property, private businesses, international trade, international investments, etc. everything that I've mentioned defines capitalism! but with the mix of communist party, propaganda, censorship it creates new political system — Chinese system lol but seriously that specific and differential country have to produce specific system, in order to make it work.

even though I 'admire its own uniqueness through diplomat's eyes, its still inhuman political system. free speech right is not followed, Uygur death camps, censorship, inhuman work conditions, air pollution, random rockets in space and more and more.....

I will never approve inhuman, oppressive system, but regarding of Chinese political situation, I don't think it will change in like 50 years. what should happen in order to overthrow ruling party? kinda impossible I guess.....

let me know what you think. feel free to comment I'm curious.

[desultory-novice]

It's me ! That Marxolor fan !! I hope you're doing okay !! C: This may seem like a useless ask, but I just hope you're in a good position in life where your biggest worry is about marxolor-- Speaking of, I love the dynamic and idea that Marx is someone who needs a lot of attention and has jealousy issues. But his clinginess can reaaally get to Magolor. He has some undealt trauma and Magolor just. Understands :(

Marxolor Fan...!! :waves:

Thank you so much! To be perfectly honest, work is very draining at the moment (...I think I have a case of burnout...yuck...) which is why my fandom to do list of asks and translations and etc is still so long...!

But speaking of Marxolor, yes! about Marx needing attention! He's a bit ravenous for it! Actually, fufufu, you'll see a lot of that in Ch4. (and 5) of MariPav - and how Magolor learns to handle him! XD

[More MariPav Marxolor talk]

(I'm actually still debating if I want to work the Marx + Kirby childhood friends thing into MariPav because I love it so much. If I do, it's going to be part of a later side-story-esque thing, probably - but you can believe that being forgotten by one of the only people who paid attention to him would influence Marx's need to STAND OUT in the present! Of course, Marx will still have plenty of unresolved troubles even if I end up leaving that plot idea behind...)

For Magolor's part, he definitely gets annoyed at having to wrangle this bite-y gremlin who will knock the non-existent books off his non-existent shelves like a vengeful cat if he goes neglected too long, but as much as Magolor wishes he could live alone, it's just not feasible. (And he doesn’t really want that.)

However, when Marx DOES learn to understand Magolor's needs, and begins to care about them like they were his own... well...!!!

...I was actually JUST working on a complimentary short-story that'll be paired with one of the later chapters that deals with that new understanding they've built, and several times I’ve paused just to think, "...This! Yes!!"

I know this isn't going to make any sense out of context, but what the heck! Have a random chunk of words from said short story! (In brief summary, Magolor gets very sick and Marx needs to do something that could be dangerous and tricky to save him.)

---

[Magolor's POV]

"W-why are you..." the antifebrile was starting to wear off. It must have been, because my hands were shaking and I couldn't hide the quake of my voice, "...going to all these lengths for me?"

Marx set the book down and looked at me. His gaze inescapable. "Because...I don't want you to lose anything else."

My throat felt tight. My chest felt heavy. I would have wrote these off as symptoms of the fever, but the heat gathering in my eye suggested the cause wasn't physical so much as emotional. 

When did I...? When did he get to know me so well?

"...Alright." I found myself whispering. And I could find no more reason to complain. No paltry fear of this going wrong could dismantle the resolve in his words.

---

Rgh! Now I wish work would lighten up so I have more time to draw!

[artistsfuneral]

The Witcher Scrubs AU 🏥

I know I said this AU is stupidly big and now you may see why, bc this is just me talking about the first few main characters not even the storyline, so: p.2 will be linked here

.🏥.

Jaskier, Priscilla and Valdo are all the new interns, aka JD, Turk and Elliot, but the three of them have all known each other from college and actually applied for KMH (Kaer Morhen Hospital) at the same time in hopes of staying together. All three of them are very close-knit friends, but Priscilla is more of a Mom friend for the group while Jaskier and Valdo have this weird thing going on where their rivalry comes with some heavy sexual tension, meaning during college they've been the on-and-off couple that everyone knew about and surprisingly they're still friends (thanks to Priscilla and their rivalry) but for now they give off heavy “divorced couple” vibes, kind of like Perry and Jordan, but not aaaaas season one toxic. Given is, Valdo will judge and comment on every single thing Jaskier does (especially later when he has a crush on Geralt) and Jaskier will walk around drawing devil horns on every imagine somebody has of Valdo (figuratively and literally).

.🏥.

In the beginning Priscilla would be more of a background-ish supportive character, like I said the Mom friend, who keeps their friend group together, helps Jaskier and Valdo whenever they're troubled, is one of the very few people that isn't immediately scared of Geralt and is usually very level headed (thanks to dealing with her two best friends all the time), even in stressful situations. She will have to go through the usual workplace harassment, being a female doctor and all, for example by patients calling her nurse and wanting a “real” doctor or others telling her she should work less so she can find someone to marry and have kids with.

And although Priscilla usually manages to deal with all of this incredibly professionally, she sometimes gets fed up and just says the darndest, mot scariest things ever. (“Dr. Marx' shift doesn't start until 2pm today and I just can't seem to find any of the male nurses. If you should refuse treatment I can, of course, stand here and wait until someone comes to help us out, but I'm afraid you'll experience cardiac arrest much sooner. Don't worry though, our mortician is male.”) Later on she will have to deal with watching Jaskier and Valdo getting better and better at their job while she starts to struggle in the ICU. As it turns out she's amazing in the ER though. And at the end of the “show” she'd definitely be one of the head doctors in the ER (if that's a thing).

.🏥.

Valdo, much like Jaskier, is one of those rich kids. His grandparents were doctors, his parents were doctors, he is a doctor. He doesn't really have a say in that, but unlike Jaskier, he doesn't mind it that much. He's very easily persuaded by wealth and fame, but he's actually a pretty decent guy underneath his “Daddy's favorite child” persona. He's really smart and has a great eye for figuring out what's wrong with people. But he's very squeamish when it comes to bodily fluids that aren't blood. (It's Geralt's favorite way of punishing him, after he's been an ass.) He will often come off as snobbish, but he honestly just doesn't notice that not everyone grew up with a personal chef. He immediately will know that he said something weird when Priscilla gives him a certain look that he often describes as blank disbelieve. (-_-') Valdo is- Well he's pretty obsessed with Jaskier to be honest. The thing is, Jaskier was his first true love and now he's kinda stuck gatekeeping Jaskier. He doesn't do it intentionally, he's not that much of an ass, it's just kind of part of his perfectionism. Along the lines of “I am perfect at everything I do, but I wasn't good enough to make Jaskier happy, so nobody is good enough for him.” Like I said though, it's very much unintentional and Jaskier has no idea what is going on, but Priscilla watches from afar, shaking her head in disbelieve. (The good thing about Valdo's gatekeeping is, that it has actually protected Jaskier from many stupid mistakes.) This obviously creates a lot of conflict between Jaskier and Valdo (even though they don't fully understand why) and it keeps happening again and again until one day, still at the beginning of Geralt and Jaskier's relationship, when Geralt gets (rightfully) fed up with Valdo's constant bickering. (They're planning on going on a date and when Jaskier asks when/where they're going Geralt will snap at him saying “I don't know, why don't we ask Marx for permission first?!” - “What?” And then Geralt will fall into an angry rant that opens Jaskier's eyes, who then goes to Priscilla who confirms it all and then he will sit down with Valdo and they'll have a long, heart-wrenching talk about it.)

Valdo being somewhat unable to connect with his patients and colleagues on a social level is ironically a really good thing, because while he's definitely not unfriendly, he doesn't take everything to heart. Unlike Jaskier is a lot better at dealing with the fact that they can't always save everyone.

.🏥.

Now Jaskier is obviously our main character, our JD.

As I already said, like Valdo he's one of the rich kids, but he has a way better understanding of the world than Valdo. He's also the oldest sibling and the only boy, meaning he has three younger sisters who he adores. Him becoming a doctor was entirely his parents idea and decision and since becoming a musician was not “acceptable” he kind of went with it, grateful that his parents paid for everything during his college years. In the beginning it really shows that he's not as passionate about this job as some of the others. He's incredibly smart and has absolutely no problem with studying and remembering everything (lucky him) but he's lacking enthusiasm (which is why Geralt initially can't stand him). His first couple of weeks at KMH are very tiring to him. Not because he's messing up a lot of things or isn't brave enough to take action, but because to him it's a very depressing and unfulfilling job and Geralt (and a few other people) seem to be constantly judging and downgrading him. He even thinks of quitting his job altogether, but Priscilla and Valdo stop him. It's only after a particular case where he helps to save the life of a patient he really connected with that he starts to understand how important this job actually is and how much it means. After that he also starts to understand Geralt and his serious attitude a lot better.

He always will have a bit of a problem seeing himself as a doctor, because he initially didn't want to be, but every day he wakes up and tries his best. He's really good at connecting with people, like JD he actually cares for them a lot and will meet many people that'll change his life. He struggles a lot when he isn't able to help someone and sometimes falls a bit too easily into his old “does this even matter?” way of thinking. It gets better with time though, and his friends and his sisters tend to get him out of that particular headspace rather easily. Especially Abby, his youngest. She's 12, like Ciri, a ray of sunshine and plays a big role in his life and kind of idolizes Jaskier a lot. She's rather independent and will visit Jaskier at the hospital or at home whenever she feels like it.

Unlike JD and Perry, Jaskier doesn't really have that much of a mentor, trainee relationship with Geralt, although Jaskier certainly has the same need to prove himself to Geralt. But Jaskier also thinks Geralt is incredibly sexy in his white coat and without it and when he's helping people and when he's arguing with Lambert and when he's berating Jaskier and when- Yeah- Jaskier very quickly develops a huge crush for Geralt after he went through his “do I really want to be a doctor” phase. Doesn't really help that Geralt treats him a bit more kinder after he noticed Jaskier found his will to help others and now sometimes even smiles when Jaskier is in the same room at him!

(and I really want to post this now so I can go watch Haikyuu before bed, so I will add the rest later lol)

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

So i know how you love writing for Valdo Marx, and I'm fond of him now as well, and not just cuz he's basically robert sheehan.... anyway...hahaha! how bout a plus size reader x jaskier, either already together or not up to you, and then Valdo is there somewhere. And maybe a bit of feral!jaskier! Thank you as always dear heart hope you're well! 💙💚💙

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x Plus Size ReaderWord Count: 2,941Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: Hello dearest. This went in a direction I was not expecting. I hope that you’re ok with how it went. I had fun writing it and hopefully reading it will be enjoyable too.

“Take me through this plan one more time,” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a very simple plan, Geralt. I’m going to escort Y/N to the dance tonight as her wingman, no one we find will be good enough for her because no one on this earth is, I will dance and sing to her and woo her and by the end of the night I will give my big speech about no one being worthy of her but I love her deeply and truly and will spend the rest of my life endeavoring to prove it and she will fall into my arms and the rest is none of your business you cheeky devil,” Jaskier recited. His head was tilted back against the window he perched on, pale blue eyes gazing at the ceiling as if he were watching the scene play out.

“What if she finds someone she fancies,” Geralt asked.

“What?”

Geralt didn’t repeat himself, he just leveled Jaskier with a Look. Jaskier thought over Geralt’s words for a moment, apparently not considering this possible flaw in his plan before now, and then shook his head.

“No, Geralt, don’t be silly. We’ve been traveling with Y/N for months now and no one has even so much as caught her attention a little bit. That’s certainly not going to change now.”

—–

You had to make a change and you had to do it now.

You’d spent months pining after Jaskier, unable to summon the courage to tell him and finding no signs of interest from him. You knew that you could try and force yourself to share those feelings and potentially ruin the friendship, or you could try and move on. The dance seemed the perfect chance and when Jaskier volunteered to help find you a match, well, that was all the answer you needed. You usually dressed to blend in, years of training put into hiding your body or minimizing yourself in any way you could. Tonight, you chose to stand out. First because if you were going to find a new partner you would not waste your time on someone who didn’t see and want all of you. Second because you were feeling a little bold and excited by your choice to pursue someone. The benefit of traveling was that if things went horribly wrong you could just leave the next morning and never return. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but the knowledge it could helped bolster your courage. It was gratifying when you saw Jaskier go speechless, mouth agape and sky-blue eyes wider than you’d ever seen them, as you stepped out in the vibrant, emerald green dress. Your hair was plaited back in a simple but attractive way, framing your face in a way that enhanced your looks but did not try to hide its roundness.

“This’ll do then?” you asked teasingly as Jaskier stared at you until Geralt finally thwacked him in the arm to help bring him back to his senses.

“You look absolutely… Geralt I’ve forgotten words oh gods they are my whole livelihood…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you laughed, blushing a little under his gaze.

“If you don’t take her arm I will,” Geralt hissed to Jaskier, eager to get the evening underway and over with. That snapped Jaskier out of it and he nearly leapt across the room to your side, taking your hand with unparalleled reverence.

“Here’s hoping someone else at court feels the same,” you said. Geralt watched Jaskier’s face freeze, a glimmer of fierce panic in his eyes before he recovered and offered you a smile.

This would be a long night.

—–

Valdo Marx had come to the ball for one reason and one reason alone – spite.

True he had been one of the first to receive an invitation but it was to attend, not perform, a slight he would not forget or forgive anytime soon. He had come to drink their wine and eat their food and scoff at their doubtless subpar performers. He hadn’t come with carousing in mind though he saw flickers of interest in the eyes of many he passed. He couldn’t blame them. He was aware of his effect on people, especially when he looked as resplendent as he did tonight in his black and burgundy attire. His curls were artfully disheveled and he’d smeared just a bit of kohl around his eyes to further emphasize them, not that they needed it. He’d trimmed his mustache and goatee and applied a tasteful amount of patchouli cologne to his neck and wrists. Still, it was all for himself and to know that he had appeared and provided the quality appearance that one could expect from Valdo Marx, even if all he had planned was some smirking and sipping of wine.

And then he saw you.

Valdo’s plans immediately pivoted. He moved from his haughty lounging to standing straight up, pressing out the wrinkles in his doublet and then setting down his goblet as he made his way to you. His eyes never strayed though yours surveyed the hall and he was vaguely aware that you were talking to someone. He didn’t look at their face, briefly taking in the quality cut of their black and cerulean lined attire with an appreciative glance, but when his eyes flicked back to your face it was inclined by the other and he stopped walking.

Jaskier.

Of course fucking Jaskier de Lettenhove, golden boy of Redania, would walk in with the loveliest creature tonight. No matter, Valdo told himself, taking up the chase again even as Jaskier led you onto the dancefloor. You may have arrived with Jaskier, but you would be leaving with him.

—–

“Jaskier if I dance with you all night I won’t find anyone,” you protested, though a traitorous part of yourself that wasn’t as easily swayed loved the feeling of his hand in yours and the way the oceanic eyes never left your face as he led you around the dancefloor.

“You’re right,” Jaskier said, though he kept a tight grip on your hand, “After this dance as ended I shall seek out some good company for you.”

You forced a smile. You’d secretly hoped he may say no, that he wanted to be your only dance partner, but you knew this was just a fantasy and if he really did do it you’d rankle at the unearned possessiveness. Still, you were a simple woman, and you wanted to feel wanted even if just for a moment. After the dance Jaskier did as promised, guiding you off of the floor and setting you up with a goblet of wine before heading out into the fray where he would circle a few times and then return to you. He would take the opportunity to check on Geralt who was where he usually sat during parties, alone and as far away from others as he could with refreshments.

You watched Jaskier’s retreating back and tried not to pout as you worked at finding that vigor you had earlier to find someone.

“It is too early for you to be here,” a voice in an accent you couldn’t immediately placed said. You turned to see a man standing nearby, leaning his long frame against a column and smiling at you with eyes that matched your gown.

“Pardon?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat as his mouth curled into a smile.

“Persephone is supposed to stay with Hades until spring, but here we still have a whole winter’s month left and yet you stand before us,” he replied in a voice that was so low it was nearly a purr. He spoke the words quietly as though it were a secret. As though he truly had spied a goddess out of place and was trying to coax her back before the other mortals caught on. You laughed and moved closer.

“Let me guess, you fancy yourself Hades?” you teased, the courage you’d lost coming back to you.

“Alas it seems I do not have that honor. But I shall let you cast me in the roll you see fit for me to play,” he answered smoothly. You stared at him thoughtfully as the bottle green eyes boldly, but not lecherously, swept the length of your body. You felt seen by this man in a way you hadn’t in some time. It scared you. You liked it.

“Eros,” you replied. He laughed, caught off-guard but delighted by your response.

“Indeed?” he said, “Oh you must tell me your justification.”

“You look the sort to tempt maidens in all kinds of trouble,” you answered, taking a sip of wine. His eyes fell to you lips as you licked a drop from the rim of the goblet and you knew he was wondering how the wine would taste if he kissed it from your lips.

“Tempting makes it sound like there’s some sort of coercion. I guarantee every maiden I’ve met was an eager devotee of my temple, love,” he replied, raising a hand using his slender, soft fingers to brush a lock of hair out of your face. He glanced up, something catching his attention, and his lovely features grew a little bit fiercer and more wicked and fool that you were, you only found yourself more enticed.

—–

“Geralt you were worried about nothing,” Jaskier insisted, though he addressed himself more than his friend who stared ahead with an expression that was a cross between bemusement and foreboding.

“Indeed,” Geralt said.

“Yes! We have had some lovely danced together and I left her with wine. Her favorite kind, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier insisted.

“And Valdo Marx was a part of your plan?” Geralt asked, eyes still gazing ahead. Jaskier scoffed and glanced to where Geralt look, opening his mouth to offer some witty retort but then he did a doubletake. You were standing inches away from Valdo whose eyes caught Jaskier’s. He looked delighted at the ashen pallor Jaskier’s face took. The color soon returned with vigor and before Geralt could rise from the table, Jaskier was halfway across the floor.

—–

“Y/N,” Jaskier said, appearing at your side so suddenly you squeaked in surprise.

“Jaskier!” you exclaimed, “Good gods where did you come from?”

“Hades,” Valdo murmured.

“I just saw you talking with an old acquaintance and wanted to ensure that you were properly introduced,” Jaskier said coolly, his words directed at Valdo more than you.

“Allow me,” Valdo said, interjecting quickly, “Valdo Marx, bard of Cidaris.”

He took your hand and raised it to his lips though Jaskier looked at him as though he may physically tear his lips from his face if they touched any part of you. You looked between the two of them confused.

“Wait, you’re Valdo Marx? Oh Jaskier he’s nowhere near as odious looking as you said. Quite the opposite in fact,” you said. Valdo shot Jaskier a squinty glare which was duly returned.

“And Valdo, I know some things you’ve said about Jaskier which were equally false. And things you’ve done. Did you know that your little stunt of spreading that lie about Jaskier and the pox cost him a job which cost us the chance at staying in an inn one night?” you asked, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“If I had any idea that you were with him I never would have done such a thing,” he replied emphatically.

“Y/N come, let’s have a dance,” Jaskier said, taking one of your hands.

“Allow me to explain myself further,” Valdo implored, taking the one you had pressed against his ribcage, “I promise I’m not as bad as I’ve seemed. Or acted. And in some ways I can get so much worse.”

His eyes glinted with a promise that made your stomach flip and Jaskier’s insides burn. He roughly pulled you next to him, his hand moving to wrap a more possessive arm around your waist.

“Y/N came with me,” he snarled at Valdo.

“She’s leaving with me.” Valdo snarled back.

“If you’re quit done fighting over me like two dogs with one bone I have something to say,” you interjected, though a part of yourself you weren’t proud of enjoyed watching these men inch ever closer to a physical altercation over you. They looked at you expectantly though whenever their eyes caught each other’s they squinted into a glower.

“Jaskier I did come with you but it was with the express intent to find someone because gods knows you aren’t interested and it’s not fair of you to try and decide who I speak with now,” you argued. Valdo preened as Jaskier stammered a bit under your glare. This was not going how he expected at all.

“I am,” he said quickly, “Y/N, believe me when I tell you that I am.”

“Oh sure because now Valdo is here and it’s a matter of pride,” you argued.

“No,” he implored take your hand up again with his, the sky blue eyes gazing into yours as they had earlier that day and as you thought about it, as they had many times before though you’d dismissed them as a foolish trick of your own love for him. “Y/N I have loved you since nearly the very day we met. I didn’t know how to tell you or if I should and, I must confess, I thought I had more time.”

“Because you didn’t think another man would be interested?” you asked, hurt plain on your face.

“Gods no, because you didn’t seem interested in others,” he explained.

“Well why would you offer to help me find a partner if you wanted me?” you demanded.

“She raises a good point. A pretty shit plan if I may say so myself. Seems the lady would fare better with a smarter, more direct partner,” Valdo cut in.

“Shut it,” Jaskier bit out fiercely before turning his face back to you, tender once more, “It was, admittedly, a plan that sounded better in theory. I was going to do this whole elaborate speech about no one being worthy of you – myself included – but how much I wanted to try and work at it for as long as you’d let me.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the words you’d wanted to hear for so long brought a tear to your eye. If he had done this five minutes before it would have been the easiest, quickest answer. But he hadn’t, and you found yourself in the unprecedented position of feeling torn between two men. This always sounded exciting and enviable in stories but now that you stood here you just felt frozen.

“Pretty works, Jaskier, perhaps the first you’ve ever spoken. But the fact remains that you have had months to make these feelings known and didn’t whereas I identified her the moment my eyes laid on her as someone I must know. And I didn’t wait for silly games. So I ask you, Y/N, what would you rather have? Someone who goes after what they want when they want it, or someone who plays the long game, taking for granted that you’ll be hanging around waiting for them?” Valdo asked.

“I do love you Jaskier,” you said. You felt Valdo drop your hand gently and you turned to face him, “But.”

The word hung in the air as both men stared at you breathlessly.

“But I cannot deny that I’m drawn to Valdo as well,” you confessed, feeling oddly guilty, “And I know it’s not how it’s supposed to be but… It’s true.”

“Perhaps a sampling,” Valdo suggested.

“What?”

“You spend an evening seeing what Jaskier has to offer and you spend an evening seeing what I can do and you make your decision,” he explained.

“You’re not a platter of meats,” you scoffed. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I could be,” he purred. You felt Jaskier’s arm tighten around your waist.

“Unless you’re worried that I would outperform you. Yet again,” Valdo said to Jaskier. Jaskier gave a sharp, humorless bark of laughter.

“Gods no. If anything I think of you and your poor, tender feelings. I fear you would never bring yourself to perform again after being so soundly shown up,” Jaskier sneered.

It wasn’t ladylike or right or moral but you had an idea. A scandalous, daring, wicked idea. Then again, you reasoned with yourself, men did it all the time.

“Perhaps this can be settled,” you said. Again two pairs of eyes landed on you, blazing green and cool blue. “Perhaps…”

“A fuck off?” Jaskier offered. Valdo rolled his eyes at the vulgarity but you brightened and nodded, grateful someone had spared you saying it. “Well I have no reason to fear it.”

He looked at Valdo challengingly and your heart pounded in your throat. The man looked back at you and as his eyes slowly scanned your body again you felt Jaskier’s grip tighten so hard it would likely leave marks. The idea thrilled you.

“Name the time and place,” Valdo said, “It will be an unequivocal pleasure showing you up yet again.”

—–

Geralt watched the three of you walk away, Jaskier’s arm around your waist and Valdo taking up your free hand. He debated with himself for a full five minutes about whether or not he should follow. If what was happening what he thought was happening, he didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Then again, there was an even chance that it would end in attempted murder. He took a long pull from his ale and shook his head. You could handle yourself.

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 8

Harry can feel the drum thumping in his bones as the bar vibrates with the music from the DJ. He pushes a sweaty strand of hair out of his face, tilting his chin down as he does so. Y/n, plastered to his chest, presses a sloppy kiss to his lips that has him chuckling into her mouth and cupping her warm face in his equally warm hands.

Behind him, the lads from the gym and their friends all holler, someone smacking Harry on the shoulder in congratulations. It makes him chuckle again, this time a bit bashfully, and his ears prickle with heat. His lips detach from y/n's and she blinks her eyes open, looking at him with buzzed eyes and pink cheeks, and he doesn't care about the group of people watching them. He wraps his right arm around her, pulling her even closer to his chest and swaying them back and forth softly. The rhythm is far too slow to match the song but it doesn't matter.

A voice he can't place hollers over the music, "Is that the same girl from last week, Styles?"

Even with his back to the group and his nose in y/n's hair, he can feel the beat of silence as they all await his answer. Y/n fists the silk material of his dress shirt in her hands, looking up at him with curious eyes. Her chin digs into his chest but he enjoys the little pinch of discomfort.

"Course it is." Harry says, loud enough to be heard over the music. A tiny smile twitches at her lips, so cute it has Harry biting back a grin. She goes shy under his gaze, hiding her face in his chest again. He chuckles softly, petting at the back of her head and she pinches his side softly.

"How long is that gonna last?" A voice he recognizes to be Marx calls out. He says it teasingly but Harry knows he's genuinely curious. Him and a couple other boxers always pick up Harry's old one night stands. But he's not getting y/n. The thought of them anywhere near y/n has his stomach twisting.

"As long as I want it to last." Harry replies, affectionately squeezing her shoulder. Y/n presses into his chest even closer.

He knows the next voice immediately. "So I can have her tomorrow, aye?" It's Issleberg, another one of the fuckers that gets his sloppy seconds. Harry doesn't bother answering. He knows y/n isn't sloppy seconds or someone he'll just toss out when he's tired of her. It's been a month and Harry doesn't think he'll ever get tired of her. Issleberg's comment is so unbelievably untrue it doesn't deserve a comment from Harry.

After a moment the guys all resume chatting and trying to hit on the girls around them. Harry ducks down, lowering his lips next to y/n's ear. "Let's go get a drink darling."

She doesn't respond but she lets Harry spin her around, his right arm staying locked around her torso. He keeps his front flush to her back as they push through the crowd. They make it to the bar, Harry keeping his arm slung around y/n as he waits for the bartender. He looks down at her, expecting to find her happily watching him or snuggling into his side. Instead she's typing something into her phone, the device lighting up her glossy eyes.

"Hey," Harry questions gently. She locks her phone, looking up at him with sad eyes. "what's going on?"

"I think I want to go home." Her words shock Harry because just five minutes ago they were having a blast. Before he can even respond, she's shaking off his arm and marching towards the exit. The sight of her practically running away from him chases all traces of his previous drinks away.

Harry's quick to follow her, grabbing her wrist to keep her from walking away from him. "What'sa matter darling?"

She turns to face him and he doesn't like the look he receives. "Nothing," y/n says with a forced smile and a shrug. "just want to go home I guess." Her tone stays casual but Harry notices the growing glossiness in her eyes and he knows it's not the drinks doing anymore. It's his own.

"I'll go with ya," He offers but it's a weak attempt. He can tell by the way she's already angling herself away from him. She's going home alone tonight and so is he.

"No, stay with your friends," -she pulls her wrist from his hand-"I already got a cab."

His heart thumps painfully and his fingers tingle as he panics. Did he really fucking mess this up? "Let me pay f-"

"Stop it Harry." Y/n says firmly, fingers wrapping around the wrist that was already heading towards his pocket to dig out his wallet. "I'm sure you've paid for a lot of girls' rides so just save that for the next one, yeah?"

Her words aren't malicious or spiteful. They're soft and certain. Like she's 100% sure she won't be the only girl Harry's giving rides to for the rest of his life. And it really fucking hurts because he did this. He let her believe he wouldn't fight for her when that's all he wants to do. Screw Marx and Issleberg and every other boxer at the gym. He doesn't want to fight them, he wants to fight whatever demons are trying to push y/n away.

"Can I walk ya out then?" He please, desperate for a sign that he's still got her. Her nod is small, but it's there, and Harry's quick to link their hands together. She leads the way, tugging Harry by his hand as he drags his feet to try and extend their time together. Unfortunately, they reach the exit of the bar far too soon and the cold air that blows his hair back is biting.

A cab is waiting at the curb, flashers blinking in the dark and y/n marches over to it. Harry panics, pressing the heels of his boots into the sidewalk. Y/n is pulled back with a jerk, spinning around to glare at Harry. He doesn't like her looking at him like that.

"I don't want you to go," Harry mumbles, eyes flickering to the cab and his nose scrunches in offense. He doesn't want her riding home in a car without him.

"No?" Y/n shrugs. "You just want me to wait until you want me to go?"

"Tha's not what I meant baby."

She huffs, looking down at his feet. His chest aches. Since when does she not look at him? "It doesn't matter what you meant Harry because it sure as hell sounded like I was just another fling."

"You weren't-you aren't!" Harry swears, tugging her closer by their hands that are still locked together. "You know tha' I care about you."

Harry cups her face in his free hand, urging her to just look at him. Her eyes seem to look everywhere but him, flickering to the floor and the building behind him. "What do ya want me to do? You want me to go back in there and tell 'em?"

"What would you tell them? We're not dating Harry." Ouch.

He squeezes her hand. "I'll tell 'em that I'm gonna be with ya for as long as you want me around. Have a feeling you're gonna want me gone before I want to leave."

He meant it as a joke. Well half joke because of course he's not enough for her. He should've known that he was going to mess it up, that's just what he does. But that doesn't mean that he's not going to try and be with her for as long as she'll have him.

Finally, her eyes meet his and they knock the wind out of him. "Why would you say that Harry?" Just like her gaze, her tone is sad and vulnerable. Harry can't believe that just this morning he was sat in the bath with her, kissing every inch of her skin within reach just to make her giggle. Not even ten hours later he's on the cusp of losing everything that he's ever wanted.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry whispers and he hates the way his words tremble. "You were the one that just threw it in my face that you're not mine."

"I thought I was yours until you decided to tell the whole bar that I'm just temporary."

"Baby," Harry gasps, releasing her hand to slip his arm around her waist. She doesn't push him back but she doesn't melt into him like she usually does. "you're not temporary. You're my girl, you're my-I l-please don't leave like this."

"I don't want to do this now Harry. " Y/n says, her hands coming up to hold his jaw. Harry leans into her, eyes desperately searching for some kind of comfort. "I want to go home and I want to shower and go to bed."

"A-and what about tomorrow?" Harry whimpers. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"You can come see me when you've figured out what you're doing Harry. I'm not going to push you into dating me, I'm not going to force you to label this, but you need to figure out what you want."

He can't stop himself. He presses his forehead to hers, lips slotting with hers in a last resort attempt to show her that all he wants is her. Y/n kisses him back briefly, offering him that bit of hope he was looking for but she still pulls back with a sad smile.

"I'm going to go," She brushes her thumb over his bottom lip and he presses a tender kiss to the pad of it. He knows he can't keep her any longer. She's made up her mind and who is he to demand that she stay with him. He gives her a nod, releasing his hold on her waist and face. Like a kicked puppy he follows her to the cab, pulling open the back door for her. She stops before getting in, turning to Harry and leaving one last kiss to his cheek.

"Bye Harry." Her words crack his chest and he's a bit embarrassed about the tears welling in his eyes. For how long is this goodbye? Forever? Until tomorrow? A few days? The unknown makes him nauseous.

Y/n gets in the cab, Harry closing the door behind her. She doesn't look at him as she buckles up. He walks to the front passenger window, softly knocking. The driver, an older man dressed in a thick winter coat, rolls it down and gives Harry a sympathetic smile.

"What can I do for you son?"

Harry rests his elbows on the window. "Can ya take extra care of this one for me? Make sure she gets home safe?"

"Of course,"

"And uh don't drive away until you see her go inside? She hates walking to the building by herself at night." He hears y/n sniffle in the back and he knows she's crying too.

The man glances in his rearview mirror and his smile grows. "Don't you worry. I'll get her home in one piece and I'll make sure no one messes with her."

"Thank you sir." Harry reaches forward to shake the man's hand. He pulls himself away from the car, shoulders slumping as it drives away from the curb, leaving Harry more lost then he's ever felt before.

~

"We've got tea for mumma, nice warm tea just for mumma." Harry sings quietly, holding y/n's cup of green tea in his right hand and Arlo on his left hip. She giggles at them, endeared by the dimpley smile on Harry's face and sits up, leaning against the headboard of their bed.

Harry hands her the mug, her sweater pawed hands wrapping around it. "And we've got kisses for mumma, extra sweet kisses just for mumma." She giggles again and Harry presses his lips to each cheek and then her lips.

"And now it's bub's turn." Harry holds Arlo out to y/n, fingers wrapped around his little torso and tilting him down. Arlo smushes his lips to y/n's, drooling more than he is kissing and it makes her laugh, reaching up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

Harry chuckles, plopping Arlo down on the bed next to y/n. She sips her tea, placing it on the night stand as Harry crawls over her to his side of the bed. She brings Arlo up to her torso, smiling when he lays on his tummy on her chest. She strokes her fingers through his thin blond hair and Arlo let's out a little coo. Harry lays on his side, his hand laying on her tummy that's housing the baby that had caused a fuss of morning sickness earlier.

"Sure ya still want to go trick or treating tonight darling?" Harry mururms, stroking his thumb over her stomach. "We can stay here and hand out candy if ya want?"

Y/n's fingers comb through his hair, similar to the way she's carding through Arlo's hair. "Of course I still want to go. We already got costumes and I know how much you want to show Arlo off in his."

Harry presses his lips to her side. "S'not a big deal if you're not feeling good darling. Don't want you an' the baby getting a cold."

He knows her answer before she even says it. She's selfless, she knows that the last thing Harry wants to do is hand out candy with Anne and Gemma but he'll do it for her. However, he doesn't have to because y/n is the saint he could never be.

"I really really want to go trick or treating."

"Yeah?" Harry asks, lifting his head to look up at her. His chest goes warm at the sight of Arlo tucked into her breast, eyes shut as he sucks on the loose collar of the shirt she took from Harry.

Y/n nods at him, smiling gently. "Yeah. Plus mom and dad can't wait to see him for his first Halloween."

Harry presses another kiss to her stomach. He can't wait to show the whole neighborhood his little family.

~

It's days before Harry works up the nerve to go see her. He knows it's his fault. She told him to come see her when he was ready. She left everything in his hands and the only person he can blame this period of silence on is himself.

It's not like he didn't want to see her. That night at the bar he wanted to go to her apartment and fall asleep with her. But she had asked for answers and he hadn't had them. What was he supposed to say? That's he twenty years old and he's never had anything close to a relationship? She knows that he's been with a lot of girls, it's not like it's a huge secret after the scene everyone made when she went to his first fight as his girl, but she doesn't know that those girls were nothing. They never stepped foot in his place. He never took them on dates. He never offered his clothes to them. He didn't cuddle them. He can't even remember half of them.

That doesn't seem like something you tell a girl you're trying to commit to. How could he say he wants to one day call her his girlfriend after explaining that he's never even had a girlfriend?

He thought he was going to be sick as he stood outside her apartment, knuckles stinging from knocking on her door in the cold. The few seconds it takes her to open the door feel like the longest seconds of his life and he's stuttering on his own breath when she meets his gaze.

It's her day off, just like he knew it would be, and she's dressed in a pair of worn grey sweatpants and a tee-shirt he'd left there. The sight of her in his clothes knocks the wind back into him and he's able to find his voice.

"Hi," He mumbles, still caught up on the shirt. She missed him then, right? Why else would she be wearing it? Because it reminded her of him?

"Hi Harry." She gives him a small smile, albeit a little awkward. A gust of cold wind blows through the entrance and she immediately shivers. "God that's cold. Come in before we freeze."

She steps off to the side and Harry happily enters, kicking off his shoes as she closes the door behind him. In the warmth of her home, Harry pulls off his coat and hangs it next to her. It feels weird setting his shoes by hers and hanging his coat on the empty hook after a week of being away.

"Are you ok?" Harry asks, nervously raking his fingers through his hair. He looks up at her, frowning at the way she's defensively crossed her arms over her chest.

She nods. "Are you ok?"

Harry shrugs. He doesn't feel very ok. He's felt like hell all week without her and now that he's standing with her, knowing he'll have to tell her why he couldn't stand up for her, he feels sick. Overall, that's not even close to being ok.

"I really missed you," He admits. Y/n opens her mouth, probably to tell him that's it's his fault but he beats her to it. "S'on me. I know tha' darling. But I couldn't show up here without an answer."

Y/n nods again, shuffling her sock clad feet. "D-do you have an answer then?"

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. "I want to be with you." He takes a step closer to her, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. "I-I've never done this before, obviously-" Harry chuckles, "and I'll admit I'm a little lost but I know that I'll be ok with you."

"W-what does that mean Harry?"

His palms have become so sweaty he has to wipe them on his jeans. He wishes he could just hold her, that he could physically transfer everything he wants to say to her through just a hug.

"I'm not ready to label this, you know I have a hard time with that, but I want us to one day reach that point. I know that I can love you, that I can give you everything you could ever want but I need time." He notices that he arms have fallen to her sides. "C-can we do that?"

"I'd love that Harry." Y/n nods and before he can react, she's tackling him into a hug that knocks the wind out of him. He wraps her up, shoulders relaxing as he realizes that he opened up to her, not very well, but he still did. And she's still here. She's still holding him, she still wants to be with him.

"Really?" Harry breathes in disbelief, burying his nose in her hair. She nods into his chest.

"Just next time those assholes ask about me-"

"I'll tell 'em." Harry swears. "I'll tell 'em that you're my girl and that they'll never get a chance with you because you're all mine."

Y/n tilts her head up, resting her chin on his chest much like she did that night. He presses his lips to her forehead, his whole being feeling so much lighter now that he knows she's sticking with him, that she's his.

~

"Harry, you got his mittens too big!"

Harry finishes laces up his boot, tucking in the pants leg of his white jumpsuit. "Just put them under the sleeves!" He calls to y/n, standing up from the edge of the bed and brushing his costume off. Y/n comes into the room, a scowl on her face and Arlo craddled in her arms, pacifier bobbing between his lips.

Harry can't help but grin at the pout on her face. She tosses the pair of black mittens at Harry, hitting him square in the chest. He manages to catch them before they fall to the floor. "Wha'?"

"You can get him ready yourself," she states, already handing Arlo over to Harry before disappearing into the bathroom. Harry chuckles quietly at her, patting Arlo's stomach through his bumble bee costume.

"Mumma's grouchy, huh bug?" He mururms, laying him on his back on the bed. Arlo just stares at him, the antenna clad hood falling over his eyes. Harry pulls it back, fully revealing the green eyes that match his own.

"Look at ya," Harry breathes, adjusting the little black booties on Arlo's feet so the bottom of his pants tuck into them. "all cute in ya little costume, just like daddy."

Arlo kicks his legs up, hips jutting up quickly, and he giggles around his pacifier. Harry manages to catch one of Arlo's waving hands, slipping a mitten over it to protect his hands from the cold. Harry does the same with the other, pressing a delicate kiss to Arlo's nose once he's finished.

"There we are bug." Harry grunts as he lifts Arlo up. Arlo relaxes into Harry's chest, soft suckling noises leaving his mouth. "Shall we go check on mumma?"

They find her in the bathroom, dressed head to toe in all black as leans over the sink, staring intently into the mirror. Her tongue pokes out of her pretty lips, eyebrows pinched together as she focuses on pining her hair back into a classic beehive style. Harry smiles, heart fluttering giddily.

"There she is!" He gasps quietly, knowing she can hear him but wanting to make it seem like he's conversing with Arlo. "Isn't she pretty bub? Loveliest honey I've ever seen."

Arlo, with his eyes big and soft as they look up at Harry, coos something unintelligible but he takes it as an agreement. Harry flicks his eyes up, a shit-eating grin on his face when he catches her rolling her eyes in the mirror. His grin grows when he notices her pink cheeks. All these years and he can still make her blush.

"Stop flattering me and help me get my hive on." Y/n orders, nodding towards the stuffed beehive she'll be wearing tonight. Harry chuckles, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek.

"Hold ma baby and I'll help ya darling."

Harry lays Arlo's in her arms, grabbing the beehive by the two shoulder straps. It's light so it it's easy to lift over her head. He just has to be careful of her hair.

"I'm holding both of your babies, thank you very much."

Harry laughs at her grumbling, maneuvering the costume down her body without disturbing Arlo or causing any fly away hairs.

"An' I love ya so much for it." He pecks her cheek. "Now give me my son 'fore ya squish him."

Y/n giggles, lifting her arms up so that Harry can grab Arlo. Once Harry's gotten him back against his chest, y/n slips her arms under the straps of the hive. As a unit, they turn to the mirror. Harry can't help but smile. A beekeeper, his beehive, and their little bee.

~

They left Anne and Gemma at the door, three huge bowls of candy and extra bags stacked next to them, and the gate programmed to stay open until 1 a.m. for all the trick or treaters. Harry felt good climbing into the car with his wife and babies. His family. It's refreshing to not have to think or worry about Gemma and Anne for a night because tonight is all about Arlo's first Halloween.

As a trio (or secret quartet) they roamed the neighborhood, Arlo held tightly in Harry's arms and y/n stuck to his side like honey. Y/n carried the little reusable pumpkin pail they'd be using to collect candy and Harry had on the backpack holding warmer clothes for Arlo and the bjorn in case they needed it. It clashed with his beekeeper costume a bit but he didn't care. This is all for his little bug.

They approach the first house, the home of the Risner family, and y/n presses her thumb to the doorbell. Harry bounces Arlo just once to gain his attention and the door swings open to reveal Ms. Risner in a witch's hat with a cauldron of candy.

"Trick or treat!" Harry and y/n cheer in unison and Harry tickles Arlo's thigh to get him giggling, a bubbly and light little noise that has their neighbor cooing.

"Oh my," she gasps, looking at the little family. "aren't you all just adorable! Do I get to be little Arlo's first house of the night?"

"Yes ma'am." Harry grins and she fishes out a few pieces of candy, dropping them in the pail y/n holds out.

"Well I'm honored!" She smiles, bringing a hand up to her chest as she oggles Arlo. "Oh I remember when mine were that little." She mururms longingly. "You two remember, if you ever need a sitter I'm right here."

Harry nods appreciatively as y/n responds, "Of course Mrs. Risner and if you ever need anything you can call us."

"Oh you're such sweethearts." Mrs. Risner coos and if weren't for the sound of another group of kids approaching the door, Harry thinks she might have roped them back into another conversation about her kids.

"See ya around love," Harry smiles, making his way off the porch. He lifts his hand in a wave. "Happy Halloween!" Ms. Risner repeats the wish and Harry drops his hand, linking fingers with y/n.

They travel house to house, Arlo beaming every single time Harry and y/n cheer "trick or treat", and Harry can't help but swell with gratefulness each time. His family is adored, not only by him, but the people around them. Call him too philosophical, but Harry can't help but think he was given such an incredible home because he'd survived his bad one. He tries not to think of the bad family that is currently watching over his house, instead focusing on the feeling of y/n holding his hand and Arlo snuggling into his chest.

~

Harry can't stop checking his phone. It's a bit pathetic considering he'd stayed at her place all week, smothering her in cuddles and unhealthy treats as they rewatched Hocus Pocus daily and carved pumpkins. Maybe it's the cold weather that's making him clingy (it's not, he's always clingy) or it's because they're nearing a year of being together, and Harry's so grateful for her he can't stand to not be holding her every minute of every day.

He's got a text from her. His heart jumps up into his throat at the message.

Wow, there's a really handsome vampire in one of the back booths

He chuckles, his false fangs digging into his lip as he looks up and glances around the jamming club. Every time he spots someone with her hair color or in a costume he thinks might be her he freezes, but seconds later he realizes they're not her. What could she possibly be dressed at that he can't find her.

Maybe he'll buy you a drink. If you give him a kiss

He glances up excitedly, looking to see who's grabbing their phone. It's useless, everyone is on their phone.

"What are you pouting for? Kate told me their here."

Harry tries to quirk up his lips but he knows he fails when Scott chuckles at him. Next to him, Lionel slumps into Nick, sloshing the drink he was sipping down his Han Solo costume. Harry does smile at that.

"She's hiding from me."

Scott chuckles again and Harry can tell by the look on his face that he knows where they are. How could he not, he knows what they're dressed as.

Maybe he should come find me if he wants a kiss

Harry huffs, rolling his eyes at her teasing. All day today she'd been boasting about her costume, claiming it was "far superior" to Harry's. Laughing he had told her it wasn't hard to beat his costume considering he was just a plain old vampire.

Stop being mean to me :(

Three dots pop up, signaling her typing. Harry simpers eagerly, hoping she'll give in and tell him where she is.

Boo...

His smile falls, brow furrowing. Boo? Before Harry can ask her what she means, two arms are slipping around his shoulders and draping down his chest. He recognizes the smell of her and instinctively reaches up for her hands. He frowns when instead of being met with warm skin, his fingers find the squishy padding of a pair of boxing gloves. A pair of very familiar yellow boxing gloves.

"Hi," Y/n mururms into his ear, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple.

Harry grips the elbow that's closest to the edge of the booth, tugging her around the back until he can see her. He can't help but gawk.

Her usually wild hair is pulled into two braids, falling down her shoulders. She's wearing a silk robe, one that's far too big on her considering it's made for Harry's broad frame. She's left the robe open, revealing a plain black sports bra he's seen her wear at the gym with him, and then a pair of slick black shorts that look like the smaller version of Harry's pair at the gym. She's wearing long yellow socks that reach a little past her mid-calf and match the yellow boxing gloves she's taken from him, and her feet are tucked into a pair of white Converse. It's obvious she's a boxer but it's the carefully copied tattoos on her skin that let him know she's him.

She's got his intricate butterfly on her stomach as well as the beautiful laurels on her hips. Two swallows peak out of her sports bra, placed in the same area on her collarbones that Harry's are located. The sleeves of his robe cover her arms so he doesn't know if she's copied a few of the designs on his arm and the boxing gloves hide her hands so he's sure she didn't recreate the cross on his thumb. And, while he'd love to see his tiger tattoo inked into her plushy thigh, he's almost positive she hasn't got it considering the shorts cover her thighs.

His eyes trail back up her body, meeting her bashful gaze and bitten smile. She sways softly, awaiting his reaction. He means to coo over to her, to murmur how precious she is, but all that manages to leave his lips is a throaty "fuck."

The lads behind him snicker and Harry's face suddenly burns with warmth but he's positive it's not embarrassment. By the stir of his stomach, he knows it's Y/n. It's always Y/n.

"That good huh?"

Harry chuckles at her smug response, knowing exactly what she's thinking. I told you so. And she did tell him. She told him all day.

"Come 'ere," Harry murmurs, swinging his legs off the side and gesturing for her to step between his parted knees. She settles herself between his thighs, arms draping around his neck, and he's so fucking glad the booth is on a platform because her lips are perfectly lined up with his. And much like he requested of her earlier, he slots their mouths together. Too overwhelmed by the sight of her to keep the kids PG, Harry parts her lips with his tongue. Y/n shakes with soft giggles, arms tightening around his neck.

"Does he really turn himself on that much?"

Nick,Scott, and who he assumes is Katey all chuckle at Lionel's words, pulling Harry away from y/n's sweet mouth.

"So you like it?" Y/n murmurs, twinkling eyes flickering from his mouth to his eyes.

"Love it," Harry says hotly, pecking her shiny lips once more. Y/n smiles proudly once again and it adds to heat in his veins. "want a drink baby?"

She hums, nodding. He grins again, patting her hip so she can give him room to stand up. They walk to the bar in the front, Harry's hips attached to Y/n's from behind. He didn't even ask the rest of the table if they wanted a drink.

He can't help himself, pushing against her as she leans into the bar. His arms grip the edge of the dark wood, caging her in. She giggles, dropping her head back on his shoulder to look at him.

The bartender greets them, smiling politely at Harry. He orders him and y/n a Coke and rum, not even waiting for the man to move away before tilting his head down to y/n.

"It's awfully dangerous to expose a neck that pretty to a vampire." Harry breathes, lips brushing her jaw. She shivers against him and smiles sweetly.

"Well someone promised me the kiss of a vampire."

He chuckles, pressing his crotch further into her bum and ghosting his lips over the skin of her throat. He brings a hand up to her neck, fingers gently splaying over the column of it. He dots a few pecks up and down her soft skin, lightly scraping his fangs just to tease her. Their drinks are placed in front of them, Harry not bothering to thank the bartender.

"The Harry Styles being rude to a bartender?" She gasps dramatically, but Harry can hear the tremble in her breath. He smirks against her skin. "Scandalous."

"Think it'll be all over the newspapers tomorrow?" He murmurs, offering a few more gentle pecks.

"Obviously, a stuck up professional athlete? They'll eat you right up."

Harry lifts his head. "That's a shame," he pecks her cheek. "I was planning on doing the same thing to you tonight."

He leans over her for their drinks, smiling a wicked grin at the wideness of her dark eyes. "Come on darling. Got a party to show you off to."

He nods towards their booth, holding his elbow out for her. She slips her hand through it, laying her head on his shoulder. The whole walk back is spent with burning gazes following them and Harry's ego swelling with every step.

~

The door is thrown open before Harry's even lifted Arlo out of his car seat. Y/n, holding their overnight bag and Arlo's little backpack on either shoulder, laughs softly and waves towards the house.

"Hello mother!"

Arlo stirs, whining low in his chest as Harry cradles him to his chest. He shushes him, patting his back gently to keep him asleep. Arlo fidgets just once before relaxing into the fabric of Harry's jumpsuit, releasing a little puff of air.

"Oh I missed you so much!" Marie calls out to them. Harry chuckles. She saw them just last week.

He grabs Arlo's diaper bag, throwing it over his free shoulder. Y/n close the car door for him. Marie stands on the porch, already dressed in her robe and pajamas. Peeking out from behind her legs is a familiar pair of blue eyes that has Harry smiling.

"I sure hope Charlie's here." Harry says, directing the comment to y/n but saying it loud enough for Charlie to hear. A little giggle breaks out from behind Marie.

"Charlie is my faaaavorite!"

Before he's even finished the sentence a mop of blonde curls and piercing eyes is barreling into his legs, almost knocking him back down the steps.

"I am here Uncle Harry!" Charlie practically screams, nuzzling his cheek to Harry's thigh. "I'm here! And you're my favorite too!"

Harry chuckles, ruffling Charlie's hair with the hand not holding Arlo. Y/n pouts beside him.

"Am I chopped liver or what?"

Charlie laughs when she scoops him up off the floor, carrying him bridal style to the door. She pauses to kiss her mom's cheek before disappearing into the house with a squealing 6 year old in her arms.

"Those two," Marie tells him, rolling her eyes humorously. Harry kisses her cheek.

"Gonna reek havoc on your house."

Marie closes and locks the door behind them, chuckling. "This place survived her and Louis. It can survive her and Charlie."

Harry drops Arlo's baby bag on the floor next to the two bags y/n has already left there. Arlo snuggles deeper into his chest.

"Where is everyone?" He asks, taking in the blankets sprawled out on the couches and the TV that's stuck on the play menu of Paranorman. A squeal of laughter from the kitchen answers his question.

The high pitch giggles and dramatic groans coming from the kitchen continue, the bubbly laugh of y/n making his stomach swirl.

The dark wood table made to sit 8 is only preoccupied in two chairs. One holds Y/n's sister in law, Chloe, with Layla perched on her laugh. Layla's stiffling giggles into her palms but majority of the noise is coming from the chair holding four. Steve is sat first, y/n laughing hearty giggles on her father's lap. Charlie is giggling away on her lap, squirming under the weight of his father.

"Louis Tomlinson, get off of your child!" Marie scolds, flicking his forehead as she walks by them. Harry chuckles, ruffling Layla's hair as the others pile off the chair.

"Hi pretty girl."

"Uncle Harry!"

Layla launches herself up from her mom's lap, directly into Harry's side. Harry's quick to catch her on his hip, wincing slightly when Arlo grumbles.

"Did you miss me Uncle Harry?"

Harry pecks her cheek. "Course I missed ya. How could I not miss my squinklett?"

Layla giggles bashfully at his words, laying her head on his shoulder. Her eyes fall on Arlo, immediately cooing at him.

"Why's Arlo always sleepy?"

"He gets it from his mumma." Harry whispers, flashing his eyes up to y/n. She's locked in a bone crushing hug with her brother.

"Will he ever wake up?"

Harry snorts. "Of course he'll wake up. Just had a long night."

"Really?"

"S'tough being a bee sweetheart."

"Oh," Layla hums thoughtfully. "I've never been a bee."

"Maybe one day." Harry tells her.

Chloe chuckles at them, climbing up and holding her hands out for her daughter. Layla reluctantly pulls back from Harry, flopping into her mom's chest.

"Hello Chlo," Harry greets.

"Hi babe," Chloe pecks Harry's cheek. "oh what a doll." She coos, stroking a finger over Arlo's cheek, careful to not wake him.

"Trick or treating was a bit exciting. Wore the bub right out."

Chloe nods in understanding. After two babies of her own, she knows how the first holidays go.

Y/n and Louis have separated themselves long enough for Harry to greet him and Steve. As usual they coo over Arlo, informing Harry that he's grown so much.

"Why don't you two go change and put the little one to bed?" Marie offers, already urging y/n and Harry out of the dining room. "We'll pick a movie to watch together and get snacks together."

Y/n links her hand with Harry's, leading him back to their bags and then through the hallway. Louis and Chloe have taken over his old room and set up Charlie and Layla in the spare, so Harry and Y/n take her old bedroom.

Harry lays Arlo in the middle of the bed, watching him carefully as he strips out of his boots and jumpsuit. He tosses the costume to the side, tugging down his boxers a bit because they've ridden too high. Y/n digs through Arlo's bag for a nappie and onesie while Harry begins to strip him out of his bee costume. By the time Harry's got a new nappie on him, Y/n has changed from her costume into shorts and a big tee-shirt, and pulled her messy hair into a bun. Her arms slip around Harry's waist as he fastens the buttons on Arlo's onesie.

"Feeling okay darling?"

She hums, nuzzling her cheek into his bare back.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yes,"

"Glad we went?"

"Absolutely,"

Harry manages to turn, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "Good." He pecks her lips. "Now let me some clothes on yeah?"

Y/n pouts and whines just to tease him but releases him. She stacks pillows around Arlo to keep him from rolling to the ends of the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Once Harry's slipped on clothes he too gives Arlo a kiss goodnight.

"Movie time?" Harry asks.

Y/n nods, kissing Harry's lips just once. Harry grins, pulling her to his chest and leading them out of the room. Charlie's laugh is ringing out from the living room and it makes Harry chuckle. Glancing down at Y/n, her eyes tired but lips smiling as she rubs her fingers over her stomach, much like she did when Arlo was still living in there, his stomach flutters. He loves being with his real family and he wouldn't give it up for anything.

[xtruss]

Defund the BBC Now!

— By Jon Gaunt | 07.10.2020 | Sputnik

I’m disgusted with their failure to make real cuts to their bloated budget and as a result to means test pensioners, the most vulnerable members of society, to see who can have a free TV licence.

Meanwhile, Gary Lineker still needs a reinforced wheelbarrow to pick up hundreds of thousands of our hard-earned cash.

Last week the BBC committed to spend £100 MILLION to be "diverse and inclusive" but clearly, in their myopic world view, pensioners do NOT fall into the diverse or inclusive bracket? Well, there's a surprise! Not.

No Taxation Without Representation

Like the American Revolution, I firmly believe in the statement above. And let's be honest the Biased Broadcasting Corporation doesn't represent me or you anymore.

It certainly didn't respect, let alone represent my views on Brexit, Donald Trump, the election of Boris and Black Lives Matter.

I don't want them to pursue my agenda. I just want the equal opportunity to put my point across or someone else to do it for me and for the presenter to drop the sneers, the raised eyebrow and the outright contempt for any opinion to the right of Karl Marx.

BBC logo © Flicker / Tim Loudon

I am sick to the back teeth with their bias and metropolitan woke view of the world and so I have come to the decision that they can stick their compulsory poll tax where the sun don't shine.

To be frank they don't need to worry about giving out a few free TV licences to some OAPs because soon no one will be paying it.

Broadcast Revolution

I can live without the BBC as easy as I can live without a hole in the head and so can millions of others, who just like me are cancelling their direct debits and not watching the biased bilge they pump out.

Who watches live TV these days anyway? The word has moved on but the BBC refuses to wake up and smell the real coffee whilst they sip their skinny soya lattes.

Forget the American Revolution, there is a broadcast revolution going on and it is not going to be televised by the Brussels Broadcasting Corporation.

I've got Netflix and Amazon Prime for all my movies and box sets and I've got the internet for my news and radio from around the globe. I just simply do not need the BBC's FAKE news anymore.

I'm not alone either as according to the Times, 860 THOUSAND licences were cancelled in 2017/18 and that figure must be well into the millions by now. Everybody I speak too says that not only is the fee too much, it's also an insult to our intelligence to have pay for something even if we don't watch it.

In the multi-platform digital age, you pay for what you watch, not what Auntie wants to serve up and let's be honest if you’re cute you don't have to pay for anything, not that I would encourage piracy of course.

A Kick in the Teeth

I worked for the BBC on a freelance basis for years and worked with many very talented people but to be frank I don’t recognise this biased anti-British, anti-working class, woke, lefty, politically correct institution anymore.

They've even given up pretending that they are balanced or impartial as their arrogance knows no bounds.

Why has the brilliant political interviewer, Andrew Neil been sent to the "news gulag" whilst biased Emily Maitlis shares her bile and woke anti-Trump agenda with her dwindling number of viewers on Newsnight?

Why did they bin Andrew Neil's and Michael Portillo's brilliant This Week show, how much dosh did they save with that decision?

Why have they decided to cut local radio and regional TV instead of focusing on the middle management pen pushers that infest the BBC?

Opposition Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn, left, and Britain's Prime Minister Boris Johnson, during a head to head live Election Debate at the BBC TV studios © AP PHOTO / JEFF OVERS

Local radio is the only part of the BBC that should be funded by the public purse the rest could be scrapped, sold off or slashed.

And by that, I mean privatise Radio 2 and Radio 1. Scrap the dreadful Five Live, we've got TalkSport and LBC who can do their job much better and cheaper.

As for the nobs who say they can't live without the Today programme or the Archers well they earn enough to flipping pay for it.

With the advent of Times radio and app-based transmission, there is no excuse to not privatise these services.

Why didn't they cut their diversity programmes instead of giving pensioners a kick in the teeth as Age UK so eloquently put it yesterday?

Diversity – What Diversity?

Talking of real diversity, how come the commentators they get on as guests and newspaper reviewers (who buys a bloody paper now anyway?) are the same goons who got the Brexit result wrong and the Boris landslide spectacularly incorrect?

But these same muppets are back on the same sofas, in the same studios saying the same stuff. Who are they meant to represent because it certainly isn't me?

It's not just the News programmes that are infested with woke lefty bias either; just look at the only dramas that get commissioned or filmed. Thin plots are bulked out with the same biased metropolitan view of the world. Who's the script editor on these shows, Jeremy Corbyn or is it Owen Jones?

Britain's main opposition Labour Party Shadow Chancellor John McDonnell, centre, holds up his hand to applause after he delivered a speech on stage, with party leader Jeremy Corbyn, right, and General Secretary Jennie Formby, during the Labour Party Conference at the Brighton Centre in Brighton, England, Monday, Sept. 23, 2019. (AP Photo/Kirsty Wigglesworth) © AP PHOTO / KIRSTY WIGGLESWORTH

Meanwhile, EastEnders is so busy pushing an agenda it makes the left-wing playwright Bertolt Brecht look like Noel Coward.

Ever since Doctor Who was revived every plot has to have a message and hammer home the woke inclusive agenda. What was wrong with the Cybermen, Daleks, the Brigadier and long flowing scarves and the Doctors assistant screaming as she ran down the same corridor every week?! I'm kind of joking.

Sport? Well the BBC hasn't got any, have they? In fact, they have had more during Covid-19 with the football being free to air!!

Comedy? Have you ever seen a right of centre comedian on one of those formulaic comedy quiz shows, instead of its wall to wall anti-British, left-wing, didactic sub-Marxist trash from the likes of that Nish guy? He's as funny as a dose of the proverbial. But that style of comedy infests and has infected all of the BBC comedy output.

Look, if you like this kind of stuff that is your choice but I just don’t want to have to pay for it and I certainly don’t see why a lonely old pensioner should either.

Defund the BBC now!

— The views and opinions expressed in the article do not necessarily reflect those of Sputnik.