#gwen is the best person ever

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

Long post. Fic under the dotted line. Or: ao3: What we are left with

Before the actual fic, here is a long post about why I wrote this fic. Disclaimer: heavy themes of grief.

I know this is a few days late, but I wanted to write something for the 15th Anniversary of the Merlin pilot episode, and it ended up needing a lot more time to get done than I thought.

I shouldn't be surprised though. Aside from most of my writings ending up longer than intended, Merlin is a show that's always meant a lot to me.

It was my introduction to the fandom world, for starters. Merthur was my first OTP and continues to be a favorite of mine. Katie McGrath was my first celebrity crush. There are Merlin fanfics and fanart that have touched my heart in a way not a lot of things have. (See my username). Fandom communities, in turn, helped me feel less alone, especially in a time where loneliness was weighing very heavily on me.

Merlin is also just magic, and capes, and swordfighting, and pretty dresses. Horseriding, dragons, unicorns, curses, poisons, plots, schemes, saving the day, and shenanigans.

Merlin is heartbreak, love, betrayal, violence, peace, oppression, secrets, friendship, hope, and bonds that can not be broken by death and tragedy. Bonds that will not fade in a thousand years.

My brother introduced me to Merlin when I was very young and I fell in love with it instantly. Partially because it meant more time spent with said brother. Episode three scared the shit out of me though, for some reason, and it would be a couple years before I started watching it again. Coincidentally, I started watching it again sometime around when my brother died. So, you can see how that adds a whole other layer of importance to this show for me, not to get too personal.

But, again, I shouldn't be surprised because everything about this show does ultimately feel personal to me. It's why I haven't done much writing or anything with it. I know I just won't really be able to stop. (Hence, how long this post is.)

Nonetheless, I wanted to write something for it. I debated doing a more merthur-based thing, but I ended up doing something mainly centered around Gwen's perspective in the first couple months after Arthur died. The first part is mainly about her. The second part... well, I can't let myself even think about all the grief this show's characters go through without getting dragged into Merlin's grief specifically. I'm not entirely sure why, though I have my theories.

Either way, the second half is more about a healing Gwen trying to help Merlin start healing as well. This is not a happy fic. This is not meant to be an angsty fic. It's really not meant to be anything other than self-indulgent for me. I'm probably subconsciously trying to help myself work through some of my own shit and, you know.. I'm tempted to maybe think that that's okay. I don't talk about grief enough, really.

Sometimes, I've felt like I was faking my grief and didn't deserve to be included in the group of people with "real" grief because I obviously wouldn't know what I was talking about.

I've felt like a ticking time bomb holding in all of my emotions, terrified of the day they explode and possibly hurt whoever is nearby.

I've cried and done everything I could to hide it, screamed with nobody around to hear it, and lied about being fine to people I Never want to lie to.

Merlin tried not to cry around people. Merlin screamed when no one was around to hear it. Merlin lied about being fine to people he Never wanted to lie to.

So did many other characters in Merlin.

I find so many of the characters in Merlin to be beyond relatable. I can scarcely find it funny.

I can't fully explain everything this show has done for me. I can explain that:

It starts with a young warlock making a journey to a place where no one knows him, and he quickly learns it's safer if no one ever knows him fully.

He makes friends anyway, including one who will fundamentally change everything Merlin knows about himself just by existing.

Merlin makes mistakes with consequences.

Everyone makes mistakes with consequences.

The show ends with multiple tragic deaths, a kingdom that is heartbroken (but moves on as they must), and an old warlock, who has spent hundreds of lifetimes being older than he looks and depressed, and who has spent barely a fraction of one lifetime being young and hopeful.

Merlin loses everyone he cares about, and yet, he still has hope. He still lives for Arthur. Now, I'm not expecting anyone to come back from the dead anytime soon. I don't think it's a good idea to want such a thing in real life, either. But if Merlin can hope and live after 1000+ years of loneliness and grief, then how can I not think it's possible for me to get through my equivalents of all that shit?

Oh, and don't get me started on the LGBTQ+ subtext and "magic users are oppressed and have to hide who they are to survive" comparison. That hit me like a goddam freight train even harder than realizing I liked Morgana before AND after she became evil.

Anyway, there's a fic if you want to read it. There's angst, Gwen POV, and everyone trying to get Merlin to eat something and go outside to prevent him developing a resistance to sunlight or something.

Enjoy...?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What we are left with" or "A Love Letter to the Adventures of Merlin BBC"

The king is dead.

Arthur is dead.

Gwenevere sits on the throne as people ask her about all the things that need to be done in the kingdom. Camelot is under her rule... and her rule alone.

Plenty of people will talk about how "if me from ten years ago saw me now, I wouldn't believe it." Gwen felt like it was beyond understandable for her to feel this was most accurate for her life.

She was born a peasant; a blacksmith's daughter. It seems impossible that she sits on the throne now.

It wasn't long ago that it quite simply and entirely WAS impossible, in fact.

It was a huge change, not only for her, but for all of Camelot, and arguably, the world. It was inevitable that there would be challenges galore, and a number of severe ones at that.

She had known that Arthur was a popular target for people set on hurting Uther, taking over the kingdom, etc. etc.

She had known that being Queen would be far from easy.

But she also knew that Arthur needed her. According to him, Camelot also needed her. There isn't much that Gwen wouldn't do for the people she loves and it isn't like the burden of power doesn't come with upsides.

She lives in a palace with a large bed for her to sleep in and the grandest of rooms that she doesn't have to clean. Many of the things she used to do for herself, like bathing, dressing, and preparing meals, are all done for her now, even if she still has a habit of making the bed when her handmaidens aren't looking.

She doesn't have to wonder what kind of trouble Elyan is up to these days, because he is here, where she can keep a closer on eye on him and worry just a teensy bit less about him.

She has friends who are always there for her. Ones who respect her and defend her with their lives, but will still also laugh with her and give a shoulder to cry on when she needs it, as she still is for them after all these years.

All of these things are still true. Many of these people are still here, but she has never felt so alone.

Morgana betrayed her and the kingdom. She left her and eventually kidnapped her for the sake of warping her mind and manipulating her. They used to have a bond she had thought unbreakable. They had whispered secrets into each other's hair while holding each other after some of Morgana's nightmares. They had inside jokes and knew each other so well that they seemed to have an entire secret language between them that consisted solely of ticks and facial expressions. A crinkle of her nose when a suitor said something unclever or boarish. A raised eyebrow and a slight frown when Arthur was surprisingly (if only momentarily) gallant. A smile when Gwen said something she found amusing.

Gwen hadn't seen that smile in years. Any delusion of seeing it again was lost long ago. But apparently, she still had a sliver of hope left because hearing that she was dead, while in many ways was a relief, also hurt nearly as much as hearing the same fate had met Arthur.

That was both Gweneviere's greatest strength and greatest weakness; she was never really lacking in hope.

Even now, when her hope is arguably facing its biggest challenge yet, it's nowhere near gone.

She wishes she could say the same for Merlin's.

He's barely said a word. In fact, Gwen had hardly seen him at all. He had gone straight to Gaius, who somehow got an explanation out of him, and Merlin was presumably keeping to his room.

She couldn't blame him. If Gwen didn't have the responsibility of being queen, she might have done the same. And even then, she has still taken some time to shed her fair share of tears.

Gwen and Arthur's relationship was always an entirely different matter from Merlin and Arthur's relationship. All three of them knew this in some way. (Really, most of Camelot knew, to a point.)

Gwen and Arthur loved each other. That was never false, but there had been a time when they thought it was a different sort of love than it was. Once their relationship had become known, the people of Camelot thought they were essentially soulmates and destined to be one of the greatest love stories ever told. They weren't entirely wrong, but it wasn't the whole truth.

They could tell each other absolutely anything. Each of them had a great mind that worked well with the other, leading not only to an excellent partnership in rulers of the land, but also to an understanding that meant they could always rely on each other in any moment of need.

Gwen loved Arthur for his bravery and willingness to change himself and the things within his power for the betterness of all. She also loved him for his goofiness and his tragic past. She loved him for never passing personal judgement on her for her station or gender or race. She loved him for seeing her as the person she was, not the servant he was expected to see her as.

And that's exactly one of the reasons why he loved her. She didn't treat him like he was only a royal figure to worship and bend over backwards for. He wasn't just a king. He was her king. Just as she was his queen.

And to be a better king, Arthur needed people who would tell him when he was being conceited or small-minded...

Or a prat.

Merlin was there for Arthur just as much, if not far more so than Gwen was and that did not lessen the love between Gwen and Arthur even a little.

But Merlin had Arthur's heart from the moment they met.

And Arthur had Merlin's.

Many people would see and hear how Merlin blatantly insulted the KING and be baffled when his majesty would respond with Laughter. This servant could call King Arthur a dollophead, a clotpole, a prat, a cabbagehead, and so much more and face little to no repercussions. And this happened regularly. Many times a day, in fact. It was puzzling to many.

But Gwen knew why Arthur rarely, if ever, took offense to Merlin's ribbing and why Merlin would keep coming back only to be given endless chores and musings about his supposed lack of intelligence.

It wasn't because Merlin needed the job or had an obligation to the kingdom, at least not entirely. It wasn't because Arthur needed a servant or still felt he owed Merlin the job as part of a life debt, at least not entirely.

It was because they needed each other. And they both knew it in one way or another. That's why the words either didn't sting like it might seem they should or simply weren't enough to keep each other away. They knew they didn't truly mean it. They knew there was something far more important in their relationship than than there would be in any of their squabbles; even the serious ones.

"A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole."

Gwen would never describe it in those words alone. It's silly to say something so cryptic and simply stated and pretend it explains absolutely everything in complete clarity.

Besides, who could accurately put into words the strength of Arthur and Merlin's love for one another.

Gwen and Arthur were husband and wife. But they were friends first. And when they got married they did so knowing it was best for the kingdom, and not in the way Uther thought, but in the way Queen Gwenevere and King Arthur believed. They were going to prove that change could lead to great things.

Gwen had hoped she wouldn't have to do so alone.

And even if it wasn't fair to her friends to think that she was truly alone, it would be quite some time before she felt otherwise.

The king is dead.

Queen Gwenevere sits on a single throne with a crown on her head, facing her subjects who she would put everything she had, as well as all she'd remember Arthur to be, into leading her people into the time of peace and prosperity that she and Arthur had hoped to see one day.

Arthur is dead.

Nothing would ever be the same. There were going to be some major difficulties in the road ahead, perhaps even some failures. But that will not stop her from trying harder. Arthur's loss will not stop her from loving again or hoping still. Nothing will stop her from being there for her kingdom... and for her friends.

. . . . .

She walked down the halls one step at a time. She smiled at the passers by and thanked those who gave their condolences.

She stopped wearing black a few weeks ago, but there were still dreadful clouds over everyone's hearts, though most of them had found ways to keep going nonetheless.

Except for one heart, it would seem, whose clouds were still striking everything that moved with unforgiving lighting and drowned out every sound with its devastating downpour.

For about two weeks, he hadn't left his room. Then the knights and her had taken turns in visiting him to try and get him to eat something or get some fresh air at the very least.

When he had seen Gwen, he could scarcely do more than sob into her shoulder. And she let her own tears fall as they held each other. He couldn't talk. He didn't utter a single word and even his cries were choked down to the point she was concerned he start actually choking.

He was becoming increasingly unhealthy, but somehow, neither he nor Gaius seemed especially worried about him dying, as strange as it was. He grew frighteningly more skinny as he didn't eat. His skin was paler and dryer, but still he wouldn't move from his bed. He flinched away from any golden light they might try and let in through the window. The dullness that would take over his face when you so much as showed him a glass of water was all beyond worrisome. Yet Gaius would simply say to give him time. Gwen and the knights worried just how much time it would take and whether it would be before or after Merlin starved to death.

After about a month, Gaius had said he'd successfully convinced Merlin to have a few bites of stew and some water for his father figure's sake if not for his own. They all nearly tried to throw a party in celebration. He still wouldn't leave his room, though.

A month later had him out of bed and dressed. He even helped Gaius with his work as best he could, but would not leave the physician's chambers. He talked some, but very little, and hardly above the softest whisper. And he wouldn't stay out of his room for very long. This went on like this for months.

Gwen tried to visit more often, but couldn't stay for very long. There was so much to do. She had understood when Merlin didn't want to be part of the ceremony held in remembering of Arthur, especially since he had already said his goodbyes when it mattered.

But there was so much more to do. Gwen was facing a lot of pushback from the members of the council who didn't believe she had a right to sit on the throne. She was handling that. With plenty of people vouching for her, and her own actions proving to be helping Camelot more and more every day, as well as the majority of Camelot's people loving her and everything she stands for as well as her strength in the face of her husband's death, she's been able to handle it. There's a million other issues that have mostly gotten smaller and smaller as she worked at them and any new issues that came up.

But she still needed Merlin. She still needed her friend. Merlin was one of the few people closest to her that hadn't died or betrayed her. She wasn't going to let him hide himself away forever. And there were still a number of things they needed to talk about.

His magic for one.

So here she was, walking to the physician's chambers ready to get her best friend out in the world again if she had to drag him out.

She knew he'd likely never be the same or even fully happy again without Arthur, but she was determined to remind him that he was so much more than what he was for Arthur: His protector. His servant. His lover. His friend... His real soulmate.

All those things he was to Arthur made up and will always be a huge part of who Merlin is, but Gwen will not let him think he is nothing with Arthur gone.

So she knocks on Gaius' door.

Gaius looks worried when he opens the door, but also almost received as he let's her in and tells her Merlin is in his room.

They share a knowing look before she walks up the steps and carefully opens the door.

When she walks in, she sees Merlin sitting by the fire, holding Ygraine's sigil in his hands and watching the flames shape a person in armour interacting with a person in more common garb. It's almost like the fire is playing Merlin's memories back to him. Gwen only thinks this because she recognizes the scene. The day Arthur made some poor boy run around with knives getting thrown at him, and Merlin stood up to him, with no thought to station or the sorts of power one person could try and use against him.

Gwen knew Merlin had magic by now. Gaius and she had discussed it partially after she figured it out. She had suspected something of the like for a little while, now, in fact.

She had never seen him use magic blatantly and so closely before. She took a breath in surprise and the images in the flames flickered away as Merlin turned to look at her, his eyes still shining gold for just a second before turning back to blue. His face was wet.

Neither of them moved for a moment before Gwen made the choice to slowly walk over and sit beside him. The warlock. The love of her dead husband's life. One of her greatest friends.

"Merlin."

He hadn't broken eye contact with her at all since she came in, but with the sound of her voice, the clouded sheen across his eyes flickered to almost reveal what was behind them. He said nothing back.

"I know, we've been skirting around some very difficult talks these past couple months, and I don't plan to press you on what I'm fairly sure is the most painful one for you, seeing as it is also the most painful one for me." The cloudy sheen grew thicker. You once saw a deep blue when you looked at Merlin. Now it seemed more and more like a stormy gray.

Gwen resumed. "But there is one thing I think we need to talk about sooner rather than later: your magic." (This wasn't entirely true. There wasn't much of a time limit on this as even if they started taking down the anti-magic laws in the system, it would be a very long time before they started to see real change. Nonetheless, it does need to happen and it's a much better conversation to get Merlin out and about again than trying to talk about anything to do with Arthur specifically.)

Surprisingly, his expression stayed stone still. No surprise, no fear, no confusion, nothing. She had figured Gaius told him she knew and in some of her visits to Merlin, she had made implications and questionable comments to subtly let him know that she knew and was not going to have him executed over it. And avoiding addressing it directly for fear of him panicking or shutting down or doing something reckless. So she wasn't expecting him to be totally off-guard.

But to have absolutely no emotional reaction at all was not a good sign.

He continued to say nothing.

"Merlin, please. Nothing is easy anymore, I know. Not talking to your friends. Not getting out of bed. Not even breathing, at times. Believe me, I understand this. Obviously there are parts of what you're going through, that I don't understand, but that's never going to stop me from trying. And the same goes for Gaius, Elyan, Percival, and Leon. We are all here for you. That's what makes us friends is We are all here for each other."

He had looked away around when she talked about wanting to understand and had slowly drifted to looking back at the fire.

"Please look at me, Merlin. I need to know that you're hearing me." She grabbed his arm softly and his eyelids twitched. Slowly, so slowly, he started to move his lips like he was about to speak.

He struggles for a moment before his eyes glow gold and he lowers his head as the fire starts to dance again. This time, it shows a boy playing in the woods. He makes butterflies from nothing and they dance around him and Gwen can almost hear the joyous laughter as the boy plays with his magical creations.

Then another boy appears and the butterflies fly away. The first boy is very still. Then the second boy walks over and, after a moment, he hugs him tightly. The first boy hugs back.

The image shifts. There are two young men, young enough that to still be considered boys, working in fields of grain. The crop is not doing well and the boys look concerned. One of them starts to seem frustrated with the other and gestures to the crops. The other contemplates for a moment. He looks around to see if anyone is looking and then kneels down to get his hands in the dirt.

The figures the fire makes are not as detailed as the people they represent, but they are detailed enough that two spots where the figure's eyes would be glow brighter than the rest of him. The crops flourish and grow tall. The first boy is amazed at what his friend has done and is grabbing his arm excitedly. The second is concerned.

The scene changes again, and now the boys walk alone through a town with multiple figures looking at them and whispering amongst themselves. The boys reach a particular house where a woman waits for them. She brings them inside.

In the house, the woman is talking animatedly. The boys are clearly being scolded by a worried mother.

"They suspected Will was the sorcerer." A cracking voice says quietly next to Gwen.

She immediately looks over to Merlin, who is watching the flames sullenly; tiredly. She waited for him to continue.

He sighed shakily. "When the crops became healthier than would normal even in a good year overnight, that was the last straw for the other villagers. They had suspicions before, but this was undeniable. And Will and I were known to have been in the field during the time frame the crops changed."

"If I had stayed, my mother would've had to watch one or both of us get turned against by the whole village and it wouldn't have been safe for any of us. If someone left mysteriously, and all the suspiciously magical things stopped happening, then they'd be satisfied that the sorcerer wouldn't be bothering them again. It was Will or me, and really, I was the obvious choice."

The fire showed on of the boys with a pack on his back, hugging the woman, then hugging his friend before leaving his home.

"Even if I could've bared to watch Will leave, an outcast to his home, I wouldn't have been able to live without ever using magic again. The suspicions would pick up again sooner or later. So my mother sent me away to Gaius, believing he'd teach me better control of my magic and believing the business of the city would help keep eyes off of me."

The fire shows the boy appearing over a hill, approaching the unmistakable image of Camelot. It seems so bright and hopeful.

Then Merlin is in a cave talking to the Great dragon.

"From the beginning, Kilgarrah would tell me how my destiny was to help Arthur. To protect him and help him become the greatest king the land had ever known. He told me Arthur would unite the lands of Albion and magic would be free once more."

Gwen wasn't sure what to think of this. So she just kept listening.

"It's very difficult to turn away when someone tells you there's a future where you and people like you can be free from persecution and don't have to constantly fear for your life over something you can't help. It's a lot harder to feel like that's possible when you're just a kid from Ealdor, being told this future relies almost entirely on you. That all your power and all your gifts were given to you so that you would bring about a golden age of peace for everyone by keeping one stupid prat alive." He chuckles into a cut off sob at that.

The fire then shows Uther sentencing a warlock to death in front of the poor man's mother. It shows her disappearing in rage.

It shows her throwing a dagger at Arthur's heart just before Merlin slows time to pull Arthur away safely.

Arthur looks surprisingly blurry in the flames, but far more bright and golden than anything else in the scene.

The scenes change much more rapidly now. Merlin using magic to reveal Valiant's magical shield. Merlin using magic to destroy the monster that was poisoning the water. Merlin calling the Great Dragon and ordering him to stop terrorizing Camelot and leave for good. Merlin stopping bandits with falling branches and mysteriously thrown spears. Merlin facing off Cenred and refusing the chance to rule with him.

"I couldn't save everyone."

Merlin meeting a girl under the castle to bring her food and talk with her. That girl turning into a monster and being killed by Arthur. Merlin watching Will die with an arrow in his chest and a lie on his lips for the sake of protecting his friend from Arthur. Merlin stopping Arthur from going through the veil, but being beat to going through it himself by Lancelot. (That scene wasn't quite so detailed and Gwen reached for his shoulder in thanks for that. Whether it was more for her or himself.)

"Or I didn't try hard enough."

Mordred getting thrown in the dungeons with no way to save the love of his life and Merlin doing nothing about it.

Merlin poisoning Morgana.

Gwen had to take a breath for that one. The situation back then had eventually reached her ears and she had eventually forgiven Merlin, but that didn't make it any easier a truth to face. She took her hand away, but stayed close.

"Over time, protecting Arthur with my magic became less and less about bringing about a peaceful future and so much more about just-"

He couldn't finish that sentence, but the fire showed a king in full armour grasping the forearm of his servant. The two of them only seeing each other. Arthur was very clear to see now. You could make out the sharpness of his jaw and crinkles of his eyes. The fire changed colors so his hair and crown would shine gold, his cape deepened to Pendragon red, and his eyes shifting to a piercing blue.

Merlin's figure was much less bright and detailed, but the tinted red of his neckercheif and the faint blue of his eyes were bolder than before. After all, his mission in protecting Arthur may have changed him not always for the better, but his love for Arthur always brought out the best parts of Merlin.

Merlin had kept his face expressionless through most of the story, but not like he was trying to hide his emotions anymore. No, he simply couldn't bring himself to feel anything about the secret of his magic anymore. This secret he's had to keep from almost everyone in his life for so long. He didn't care about it anymore. It wasn't about the magic anymore.

The flames slowly started to fade back to a more expected sort of flickering and grew smaller as it did. Merlin stayed quiet again. Gwen reached out again.

"Did you get to tell him?" She asked oh so softly.

His eyes watered and he nodded. Then he started shaking his head no.

"Not the way I wanted to."

Gwen thought about how beautifully the fire had danced in telling Merlin's story. The way that every time Arthur was shown, he was shown as a golden figure of hope and love doing his best to protect and lead his kingdom. It was meant to be Merlin's story, but it was difficult to focus on much besides Arthur and the beauty Merlin painted him with. Even when he killed Freya, her beauty was far from hidden, and the tragedy was not shyed away from, but Arthur was not the villain of the story. He never would be the villain in Merlin's story. And he wanted Arthur to know that. He wanted time to get Arthur to sit down and hear his side of the story. This story full of lies and secrets and pain that some may hear and think it odd that Merlin, with all his power, wouldn't be fighting against Arthur in order to build the world he wanted himself. This story that is so clearly not one of heroes against villains, or rivalry, but above all, a love story. Merlin loves Arthur more than himself. More than magic. More than anything or anyone. That's what he wanted to show Arthur. That's what he wanted Arthur to know.

Merlin's tears fell more forcefully, and Gwen took him in her arms. She let her tears run freely as well.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gasped through his cries. Gwen didn't need to ask what he was sorry about. Or who he was sorry to. They both knew.

"I'm sorry too." Gwen replied. Because in the end, there's not much else you can say but that.

Eventually, their emotions would settle, and they'd start talking about what to do next. Having magic would no longer be a crime, but there were so few magic users and beings of magic left that there would need to be a serious effort to avoid the extinction of such people and creatures in the long run.

Merlin wasn't sure he was up to that task. It didn't help that if it was revealed to the court that he, specifically, had magic and had been hiding it for years, it would be difficult for anyone to trust him.

But he also simply didn't have faith that he could keep all of magic from dying when he couldn't even keep Arthur from dying.

Gwen didn't want to put so much pressure on him, especially with few to no signs that it would go well. But she would lift the ban on magic. Gaius could help educate people on how magic really works, and they would spread the word that magic does not make something or someone evil. It simply does what all power does and gives people the opportunity to make choices. Sometimes, people just choose to hurt other people.

But some other times, people will instead choose to help people. That's what Gwen will do with her power. Help people. Help her friends. And with time and persistence in this, things will get better, at least in some ways.

Camelot may not last forever. Magic may die out. Their story may not become the greatest legend ever told. It may even be forgotten. But it will have happened. And, in the end, isn't it worth everything, just to say that it happened?

[iwasbored777]

Sometimes I'm like "my Gwiles posts aren't as popular as they used to be that's cuz no one is in the mood for Spiderverse anymore" and then I see the rest of Gwiles posts in the tag and how many notes they have and I realize that there are still people in the mood for Spiderverse but I just lost a lot of Spiderverse mutuals when I was in my DreamWorks Trolls era

[lenoreamidala]

Forced myself to watch the evil gwen episodes last night, where's my medal?

[midnightfangz]

There's something about silly cafe AUs that soothes my soul so much

[nutelloona]

it's honestly so toxic that I'm still single even though my hair looks breathtakingly good

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than a 0-3

Ah damn, yeah, that happens sometimes. The thing about competitive multiplayer is that for every winner, there has to be a loser.

Anyway here's some writings about the single player Path of Champions

Path of Champions - Dravid Version

Change 1: No progression. I went over this more in my "Path of Champions - Progressionless Edition" document, but tl;dr, the way the progression mechanics are done is bad for the gameplay experience, and progression serves little purpose otherwise. Thus, no champion level, no star powers*, and I'm removing legend level too. Certain things, like max nexus health and starting mana, can be altered by individual adventures if needed.

Change 2: No champion cards for the player. Champions cards do 2 things in Runeterra: They're stronger than the rest of your deck, and they reward you for playing a specific playstyle. The first is just a terrible idea; the amount of games I've lost solely because I didn't draw my champion are only outnumbered by the amount of games I've steamrolled because I DID draw my champion. The second is terrible for Path of Champions specifically, as a major aspect of the mode is improvising a strategy with the random cards and powers you find during the adventure. So, no champion cards for the player.

Change 3: No champion cards for the enemy. Champion cards for the enemy can reduce the game to "do you have removal?" It get especially infuriating when the opponent draws multiple copies of their champion. The purpose of randomness in card games is to create variety, not to screw you over for reasons outside your control.

Change 4: Champion playstyle design philosophy. Champions, both the cards and the playable characters, often mechanically encourage the player to do a certain thing, such as Annie rewarding you for playing lots of spells and skills. This conflicts with the "improvised strategy" aspect of Path of Champions, and should not be done. Some champions' playstyles give you certain tools, such as Gwen giving you lots of units with hallowed. These tools can be used for a variety of strategies, and work much better as playstyles. Champions' starting decks, card reward pools, and star powers will give the player versatile tools, rather than asking the player to use a specific strategy. This allows different playable champion to have a unique playstyle, while still allowing for improvised strategies.

Change 5: Star powers. Each playable champion will have one star power, not linked to any sort of progression mechanic. Just like the champion's cards, the star power will provide a versatile tool that doesn't push the player into a specific strategy. A good example is Mordekaiser's "Twice Slain", which lets the player grant Deathless to their units. A bad example is Mordekaiser's "Thrice Born", which rewards the player for reviving units. A good star power (and card pool) gives the player a tool to be used however they want. A bad star power rewards the player for doing something specific or playing specific kinds of cards.

Change 6: No support champions. The removal of champion cards leaves support champions quite bland and boring. Mixing up the champion's normal card pool with an additional card pool is good for creating variety between different adventures with the same champion, but I'm adding another thing to take on that role.

Change 7: Region card pools. Each (adventure) region will have a large card pool themed around its respective (mechanical) region; Ionia will have stuns, spells, elusive, etc. while Targon will have support, healing, invoke, etc. Most of the cards will be versatile tools, such as Mountain Goat, and there will be a handful of cards in each region that gently reward each of the regions's themes. Since the region is only half the card pool, these rewards have the be low in number and easily splashable into decks that only slightly use the theme.

Change 8: No decking out. When your deck is emptied, it fills back up to its original state. There's already ways to infinitely fill the deck, so the deck out rule serves no purpose. This also lets starting decks be smaller, allowing them to be quickly replaced by new cards.

EXAMPLE CHAMPION

Gwen

Star Power - Snippets of Song: Round Start: If you don't have the attack token, summon a Ghastly Band.

Boisterous Host x2 Phantom Butler x2 Redeemed Progidy x2 Conductor of the Mists x2 Strike Up the Band x2

Also I did more

Level Up Animations

The level up animations in Legends of Runeterra are boring, particularly the modern animations that cut away to a 3D scene to show the champion doing something. They're usually not very exciting or interesting; Yuumi jumps through a portal and then meows, Ilaoi gently swings a tentacle around, Bard flies through some portals and then blows his horn, etc.

The older level up animations were more low budget and didn't use 3D scenes. Sometimes they were pretty boring like Garen and Darius, but other times they made creative use of the card; Nautilus floods the screen with water and an anchor plunges into it, rising up to reveal the level 2 card; Jinx zooms across the field in an instant, writing her name in graffiti and flipping into the level 2 card. That kinda stuff is cool and creative, and doesn't try to make you forget that you're playing a card game. I want more level ups that are at least kinda creative, because the 3D scenes aren't cool.

YUUMI The Book of Thresholds opens to reveal her level 1 card, then the page turns to a hand-drawn sketch of her card art. The pages start turning rapidly to play a flipbook animation of Yuumi jumping through a portal, finishing by revealing her level 2 card.

SAMIRA Six targets appear, and Samira's card strikes each one in sequence with her weapons, building up her combo rank until she destroys the last one with a spinning slash, flipping her card around to the level 2 card.

GWEN Gwen's card is covered by cloth, and her sewing tools work and cut the cloth into her outfit and pose it into the pose in her level 2 card art, then in a flash the cloth and outfit are gone and her level 2 card is revealed. OR Gwen's card is covered by cloth, and her sewing tools work and cut the cloth faster and faster until in a flash, the cloth is gone and her level 2 card is revealed.

[gwenieart]

♥️😍

literally obsessed with this picture

[verstappen-cult]

PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.

However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.

Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.

"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.

Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.

"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."

Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.

Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.

"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.

His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.

Max likes it when you praise him during sex.

Especially when he surrenders himself to you.

"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.

You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.

“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.

You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.

Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.

He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.

Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.

“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”

You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.

“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”

You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.

“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.

“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.

“What do you need?”

“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”

“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.

His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.

“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.

You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.

Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.

You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.

And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.

You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.

You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.

“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”

You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.

Max is mesmerized by the view.

And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.

“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.

He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.

His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.

Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.

Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.

“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[thetimetraveler24]

Sometimes I think about how people rank Jason as their least favorite because he’s “such a bland character with no personality”, but was he even allowed to have one in the first place?

He’s two years old when Lupa guides him to Camp Jupiter. He’s brought up to be the perfect soldier, the perfect Roman, the perfect hero. He doesn’t know life outside the legion. He’s the son of Jupiter, he has to be great. If he’s not, he’s a failure and a disgrace. If he is then he’s still not the best because there so many other heroes who did it better than him so he has to keep trying harder and harder even though no matter what he’s never going to be good enough because the moment he slips up he’s no longer the perfect hero.

The few times he actually tries to do something he wants, he’s only cut down. Changing the 12th legion to the 1st legion? No, you can’t do that. It’s tradition. You’re wrong. That’s stupid. Joining the 5th cohort? Why would you join those losers? You’re only hurting yourself. You could be great if you join the 1st cohort instead like a good Roman boy.

So why would he try to do anything that cultivates his identity? Why would he try to do anything that brings him joy if everyone around him is just going to suck it right out?

He has no best friends at Camp Jupiter. He has acquaintances. He has people he’s friendly with. Say what you want but Reyna was a coworker. Dakota was cool, Gwen was nice. But none of them make Jason want to stay at Camp Jupiter instead of Camp Half-Blood. He thinks of Reyna but only in terms of he doesn’t want to saddle her with the responsibility of picking a new praetor. He thinks about duty. When he is picking between the camps he’s weighing his options between doing his duty as he’s done his whole life or picking himself for the very first time ever and he picks himself.

And it’s honestly so fucking depressing that the first time Jason picks himself and is actually supported in his decision happens when he is sixteen years old. And most of the people supporting him have only known him for a month.

But then he saddles himself with duty and responsibilities because that’s all he’s ever known and Percy is dying and Jason is a good Roman and a good hero and his job is to sacrifice his life for everyone else because of course it is. So he takes on Pontifex Maximus to build shrines and temples to minor gods and goddesses (not that they shouldn’t be honored but… once again he’s sacrificing his identity for the good of everyone around him).

And then, just as he’s finally discovering an identity for himself—he likes physics, he’s learning about the mortal world and living in it, he’s becoming more than just Jupiters son and Juno’s perfect hero—he’s killed.

Jason never got to be Jason. He only got to be Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, Praetor of the 12th Legion, slayer of Krios, one of the Seven, Juno’s Champion, Pontifex Maximus. He always belonged to someone else and never himself.

All this to say, Jason is my favorite of the Seven and although he’s not the eldest nor a daughter, as an eldest daughter I relate so hard and feel very seen in him.

[spacy-snail]

Hobie Brown is the best representation of authentic punk culture I’ve personally ever seen in media

I feel like most “punk” characters are just visually alternative, and maybe a little “stick it to the man”, but that’s about it. They ultimately don’t stick the landing when it comes to the values the punk community has

But Hobie does!!! He backs his words up with his actions! He sticks to what he believes in, causes chaos, fights fascists, is an instigator, is anti-establishment (including the spider society), he has blue and yellow coded laces (as always these animators are amazing and did their fucking research), and he literally disrupts every scene he’s in with his art style!!

And most importantly, he CARES about his friends, which is what I think a lot of “punk” characters ultimately are missing. He’s the ultimate hype man for Pavitr and Miles, he helps Miles escape like 2 minutes after meeting him, he watches out for Gwen when she can’t go back home, he talks sweetly to Mayday when no one else is listening

Anyways I sat there in the theatre watching this chaotic SOB thinking

[murdrdocs]

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

[gwenieart]

My Love♥️🥰

Angel Coulby as Guinevere in Merlin s1 (x9)

[nocek]

Some Miguel and Gabriella doodles form last month :) I just hadn't had the motivation to turn them into proper drawings.

But the bottom two actually are part of my headcanons:

So starting with the happy one as in the one on the right:

I headcanon that Miguel actually ended in Gabriella's universe on accident and the multiversal travel didn't exist yet (to be more precise it was invented to look for Gabriella's father because Miguel didn't know that he was dead and just assumed they like switched places or something) and he explained the whole situation to Gabriella rightaway (because there is no way to be able to fit into another dude's life without a hitch even with I was bonked in the head recently excuse).

Gabriella was skeptical but decided to approach whole situation sitcom style. Dad was replaced by awkward but caring dude with superpowers - let's help him but also try the new boundaries. So she approached with hey dad runs twice a week and I ride the bike with him. I can show you our favorite route! And then proceeded to extend the route muuuuuch beyond what was humanly possible for her dad. And then beyond what was possible for her just out of curiosity if Miguel will ask to stop. Well he didn't so now after long ice cream break he needs to carry her home because she totally absolutely is beat and cannot cycle anymore (and also this way is more fun).

And the second separate depressing au headcanon that is not as tied to the picture but I guess I'll share it here:

While the Gabriella's universe was falling apart all the spiders there just grabbed as many civilians as possible and jumped through the portals. So Gabriella and couple dozen displaced people are alive at spiders hq and things are maybe better but also worse.

Since Gabriella is alive Miguel can't go sulk in the corner in his office. He needs to put on a front for her. Which most likely doubles the pressure that he already puts on himself.

Gabriella isn't an idiot and figures it out so she also tries to put on a front.

But to add a little spider whimsy and make the whole thing a bit happier - here comes Gwen.

Miguel was just as grumpy about letting her join spider society as was in the movie buuuuut Gabriela decided that Gwen being the slightly older girl with a little bit of alternative vibe is the coolest person ever and we will be best friends. And you are a ballerina!!!! I want to try ballet too!

Which in turn forced Miguel to be nice like to other Gabriella's friends and maybe be a bit more mindful and realize that Gwen needs more than place to stay and new friends and coworkers. She is too young to just jump into adulthood. She needs her father or better father figure.

And he tries to dump that on Peter B which doesn't work because Peter suffers form serious case of baby brain but also sees Gwen more like a equal adult and friend.

Besides the idea of Miguel trying to be nice and failing at because he approaches it form his experience with Gabriella standpoint while dealing with teenager is kinda fun and I like it.

[priniya]

okay, so i would like to request a theodore nott x reader where reader is like this kind of shy, studious type of girl and theo has had a crush on her for the longest time? like, he always sees her muttering the answers to professors questions and studying in the library and reading in every corner of the castle. maybe she gets dragged to a party by one of her more extroverted friends and ends up hiding away in the corner where theo comes and puts the moves on her?

i've read a few of your fics and adored them, you are such a good writer <33 if you can't get to this ask, i understand. i hope this finds your well <33

🗺️ SMALL WORLDS

synopsis. being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extrovert you could ever find to be around.

notes. theodore nott x shy!reader. kind of high school!au

req. i’m like. so in love with that request. liz i love you. its all i needed in my life to feel completed. hope i exceeded ur expectations 🕺 also pride n prejudice reference??

oh.

theo didn’t expect to see you there. you were never a party person, you hardly ever went out to hogsmeade with your friends or paid attention to something that wasn’t your thrifted, muggle books. however now, you were standing all dolled up in the corner of the room, surrounded by gwen and betty, – who wanted to make sure you’d be okay on your own – anxiously scanning the common room, when the two girls left you.

something in his mind could tell him that the party wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, the huge, loud crowd you were pushed into was probably just giving you a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere. it wasn’t hard to notice as your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing, hands trembled and you were getting pale, so you had to sit on the emerald chair.

“it’s not nice to stare.” pansy nudged him in his ribcage teasingly, catching his attention almost immediately. his best friend had her arm wrapped around ginny weasley’s waist and a drunken smile spread over her lips. “go get ‘er tiger.” she added, watching him roll his eyes and walk somewhere.

maybe he stared a little. and maybe he made it a little too obvious — or obvious enough to get teased for it by his friends. he had to keep his cool or he would probably scare the shit out of you for being such a creep who just stared. not only at the moment, but also in class when you sit somewhere in front of him, or at the slytherin table.

and, to just make clear that theo has been interested in the curious creature you were, he even started coming to the library more often, staying there and pretending to read, when he couldn’t, so utterly distracted by the way your eyes move, or the way you have to take breaks to react to the book you’re reading, or the way you sometimes look his way, but look away the second you make eye contact.

theodore nott has never been a shy type of guy — overly confident, always hanging out with the elite, and looking above on everybody. or maybe that’s what everyone thought, because when he was to make a few steps in your direction, all the traits people knows him for were gone. he felt like a little kid, who wanted to ask his mom a big, important question, but couldn’t let it out of him.

his legs felt wobbly, making him as confused as it was possible. he’s never experienced anything like that over a girl who’s doubtlessly more into the book on her lap than she’d ever been into him. a stupid smile appeared on nott’s face the second you brought your gaze higher, falling on his lightly flushed face.

“uh, hi.” you struggled to let out, a little flustered that he came up to you like that. having closed the book, your gaze fell on his face one more time, analysing who you’re talking to, though it didn’t take too long to figure out it was theodore nott.

“hey.” he replied, shamelessly taking a seat next to you. for the fifteen seconds he was walking there, he thought about all the possibilities of conversation, but then? he just sat next to her silently for half a minute. “doin’ alright?” a question left his lips.

“i–, uh. kind of.” you lied, stuttering at the same time.

of course you knew theodore nott, who didn’t? he was a friend of mattheo and draco, a lacrosse player and a smart-talker. never studying, but always perfect on tests. and, in addition to top it all – undeniably handsome that keeping eyes off him was like a death sentence.

his eyes rolled in playfulness. “funny. you look more than just miserable.” the boy commented, his eyes fixated on your face as he speaks. “would you mind if i keep you company?” theo flashed you a cheeky smile and you just shook your head silently, watching him as he took a closer seat.

“you don’t have to speak.” nott added quickly, seeing a piece of distress at him keeping you company, and the way your hands gripped the cup you held. “you can just… act like you listen to whatever i’m sayin’, that’s fine with you?” his head tilted to the side waiting for a most likely short answer.

once you agreed or maybe it’s better to say once you didn’t refuse, he started rambling, rambling and rambling, trying so hard to make you laugh — chuckle, at least. oh and was he so proud of himself when he finally did. and minutes after that, you started replying to him more often, and god, it sent him to heaven, even though he was the one speaking much more, hearing you reply once in a while was enough.

the music was getting louder with each second, and he took you out for a walk, showing you around a little, because you were not exactly from that part of the town. “you smoke?” he asked, and he knew the answer immediately. you didn’t, but you nodded, waiting till he extends his hand with the pack of cigarettes.

you brought the cigarette to your parted lips, feeling his gaze on you. the motive for the whole smoking part was completely unknown to you — you never smoked, neither did you want to, but how could you ever say no to theodore nott, when he ditched the party to talk to you.

so… somehow, it led you to do what you can to impress him. you took a drag, feeling his eyes on you, and… started coughing so much you had to hold his arm for a few seconds to keep your composure. you could see theo trying his best not to laugh at your poor attempt at smoking. his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bit back a smile, not wanting to make you feel bad.

“it’s better that way.” he nudged your side lightly, trying to cheer you up, seeing the embarrassment painting all over your face. “someone really doesn’t want you to smoke up there.” theo joked, making the corners of your lips curve a little upwards.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you for some time, just walking around the town, enjoying each other’s presence until he finally decided to give it a break. “you’re not the type to party.” theodore stated, giving you a side glance. “lost a bet or something?” he asked, his left eyebrows lifted.

you walked beside him, hands laced behind your back as he asks the question. you couldn’t help but tilted your head slightly to the side to take a better view of him — of his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, those beautiful eyes of his and those lips— shit. you almost forgot he asked you a question and maybe even worse, noticed you staring.

“no.” he got a little head shake for an answer, before you found yourself revealing even more. “just promised my friends i’d go out with them.”

to theo, it sounded like something you’d do. even though he hardly ever spoke more than few words to you, he’s been perceptive and watching you in class was something he did most of the time, the reason behind it? his crush fell too deep to not continue looking for an opportunity to make a move.

“mhmm.” he mumbled under his breath, turning his face to look at you, a smile creeping onto his lips. “to be fair, despite the visible discomfort on your face, you look real pretty.” theo gave you a cheeky smile, before adding. “though, comfort looks so much better on you.”

shit. this motherfucker. his smooth way with words got you blushing from the top of your head down to your toes. before you could even stutter an answer, you felt the fuzzy insides of his coat on your shoulders. it felt so unreal yet so realistic at the same time. were you dreaming? you wish you weren’t.

“is it really that visible?” a soft sigh has left your lips, stopping in your tracks to look at him. “nah, just if someone has been paying attention to you before, they’ll notice.” the boy shrugged, your cheeks growing even hotter.

he’s been paying attention to you. theodore nott, the slytherin, has been paying enough attention to you to notice how uncomfortable you were in gwen’s dress. his cheeky smile got even cheekier as you were processing everything in your mind, the two of you standing in front of each other in the middle of the pavement.

your lips were slightly parted as you tried to think of something to say without embarrassing yourself more. you didn’t even catch the moment when he leaned a little closer until the two of you were inches away. “theo…?” a quiet whisper escaped your lips, your head tilted upwards to look at him.

“i’ve been infatuated with you for a while now.” confessed theodore, your breath hitching in your throat. what now? “it’s not the ‘i like you’ talk, it’s the mr. darcy’s ‘you’ve bewitched me, body and soul’ talk. i’m not myself when you’re not around.” his words are like honey on your ears, his hand finding yours, your eyes never leaving his.

“you like jane austen?” you giggled, accidentally interrupting his confession.

“y/n.” he groaned. “please, can i kiss you? i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe without it.” theo seemed desperate, but you couldn’t mind, it was theo who wanted to kiss you, the guy you always stared, when no one looked, the only guy that ever appeared in your dreams.

it took him just a small nod from you to lower his head and crush his lips into yours. at first, you could feel all the emotions he wanted you to feel — the desperation, the need, and the happiness that came with finally being able to kiss you. his fingers found its way to your hair, pulling you even closer as your lips moved against his so perfectly.

if it wasn’t for your fist that gripped the fabric of his collar, you’d probably pass out from the sensation of his mouth on yours. you had to break out for a few seconds to catch some air, but this time — you were the one who kissed him, standing on your tiptoes, kissing him like your life depends on it. he tasted like the liquor he had drunk before you two got away, and menthol cigarettes.

his forehead is resting against yours, after the two of you finally pull away yet so slightly. “were you for real?”

“i have never been as for real as i am right now, y/n. if being so enamoured with you was a crime, i’d be facing lifetime.”

[jellyfiishatr]

a/n : I'm inlove with this thought because it's actually so him, brainrot going crazy ovr him frl >_<★!!

(@crybaby-writings)

☆☆☆

Content : headcanon / romance

Content warning : slight violence / Uncomfortable situation (?)

☆☆☆

☆ Hobie take pride in his partner, if you ever get good stares or hit on he's the type to say, "I know right" and like wrap an arm around your waist

☆ he's showing you off left and right, bragging about how your his s/o

"You're dating them?" Gwen asks, shocked as she gawks at you.

You're walking around the room, silently strutting as you make your way to the bar. You notice that hobie and his friend are looking your way so you give them a small smile and wave before turning your head back.

Hobie nods proudly, "Yup."

☆ it takes a lot for him to get riled up, talking to you or just flirting only make him laugh

☆ but if someone works up the nerve to actually place a single finger on you, it's about to go down

Someone walks up to you as you're waiting for your drink to be finished being made peacefully. "Hey," they say in a cool and suave way.

You look up from the bar, taking notice of the person talking to you.

"Hello." You reply back with a nervous smile. You look back down thinking that'd be the end of it till you felt a hand slide up your arm and onto your shoulder.

"You're cute, you know tha..-" just then, the person is cut off with a single blow to their face. Their face hits the hard wood of the bar, causing them to break their nose twice in the process.

☆ ^after that he doesn't even say anything or let them get back up, only silently glaring at the person

☆ (^that's literally all it takes for anyone to shut up)

☆ he pulls you in by your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and telling you that it's best you two leave before someone calls security or something.

[pr0wlerpunk]

Would they love you as a worm?

And how would they react?

(Platonic!)

Gn!reader

Some of these are short and I’m sorry for that, wrote this at 1:am and I didn’t rlly feel like adding or fixing anything ☹️

Warnings: Slight atsv spoilers!!!, really bad British slang(someone please help), idk if the terms I used for hobie are actual British slang or not….nor do I know how to spell them if they are☹️

Earth-1610!Miles Morales- Definitely(but he Misses human you)

🕷️miles would ABSOLUTELY love you as a worm.

🕷️somehow someway you turn into a worm and miles is so protective.

🕷️I’m talkin’ like dude would keep you so safe, with a little terrarium filled with fresh soil and plants.

🕷️feel like he would also spend nights talkin’ to you and just spilling his problems out.

🕷️one time he got scared that his mom threw you out but she had just moved you…yea he almost had a heart attack

——

“Mom, where’s my little jar I had on my window?”

“Oh uhm….I honestly don’t remember where I put it..”

“…”

“Miles?”

And he’s already gone to look for you around the house.

It took him a hour but he finally found you…in a cabinet.

That night he spent singing sunflower to you

——

Earth-42!Miles Morales- Kinda(he had to think about it)

⛓️ miles would have to warm up to you.

⛓️like 1610 miles, you somehow turn into a worm.

⛓️at first he thinks it’s a joke…but as time moves on he realizes you’re a worm.

⛓️he definitely would keep you safe though.

⛓️like he would keep you fed and made sure you didn’t dry out.

⛓️but like he doesn’t do the whole talk thing.

⛓️the only time he talks to you is when he’s checking on you(like twice a day)

⛓️he definitely hides you from his uncle.

⛓️he’s not ashamed he just doesn’t want to explain how you became a worm because even he doesn’t know.

⛓️though if Aaron ever found out I think he would just stare at miles and walk away.

——

“Yo miles, cmon man we gotta do a ru-”

“…” “…”

“Miles why is there a worm on your desk?…”

“I know it looks weird!!, but somehow [___] got turned into a worm..”

“…”

“Yea… we not doin’ no run today…you can just stay here with uhm…yo worm”

“Yo! Unc, it ain’t Like that!!”

But Aaron’s already out the door

And miles is left as heat flushes his now embarrassing face

——

Hobie Brown- Doesn’t care(but yes)

🎸hobie doesnt care, Like literally it’s your life.

🎸but, he is one of them that would carry you in his pocket.

🎸like dude has a full on pocket full of damp soil just for you.(that’s how he keeps you safe)

🎸he doesn’t know how you got turned into a worm, but like I said earlier he honestly doesn’t care.

🎸if you wanna be a worm…he ain’t gonna stop you.

🎸like 1610!miles, he definitely would talk to you.

🎸like full on conversations though.

🎸like he’s asking you questions and everyone’s just staring thinking he’s finally lost his marbles.

——

“So I was tellin’ bloke-”

“Ay hobie, who’re you talking to?”

“Bruva, you’re tellin’ me you don’t see [___] right er’???”

“…no?”

“That’s botched huh luv?!”

Yea they never came back…

——

Gwen Stacy- Not at first(but she does)

🎵she actually thinks you look stupid at first.

🎵she blames however you got like this on you or miles.

🎵she definitely thought you were ugly.

🎵but then she gets to care for you and ends up loving you.

🎵not the best at protecting you but please don’t be hard on her.

🎵she gets mad when someone tries to mess with you.

🎵like it’s kinda scary.

🎵I’m talkin’ bout full on glare, eyebrows furrowed, right nostril flared and lip curved up slightly.

🎵one day she caught a spider person tapping your glass and she got pissed.

——

“Ay!, why’re tapping the glass?”

“Oh, uhm.!”

“Move. This isn’t a zoo”

“Right! S-sorry!”

“…”

“You ok [___]?”

All in all everyone knew not to mess with Gwen and her worm friend.

——

Jessica Drew- Yes(shes basically your mom now)

🤰🏾she absolutely loves you.

🤰🏾plus she thought it’d be easy practice for when she pops her baby.

🤰🏾is the type to tell someone she has a kid and then show them you

🤰🏾she’s definitely always checking on you.

🤰🏾protects you like a mom should.(kinda)

🤰🏾she cried when she lost you.

🤰🏾one day she set you down to grab a drink and when she came back you were gone.

——

“I’ll be right back [___], don’t move!”

5 minutes later…

“[___]?….[___]!??”

“E-excuse me, but has anyone seen [___]??”

“Uh, who?”

“Their a worm, and they were right here!”

She ended up finding you with Peter B and mayday

She realized this was harder than she originally thought…

——

Miguel- No(He Acts Like he hates you, but secretly would do anything for you)

🕸️dude definitely almost stepped on you once or twice.

🕸️Bros the Type of Person to yell at you After he almost stepped on you.

🕸️but like once he warms up to you he’s definitely carrying you everywhere.

🕸️Like Bro wouldn’t trust you😭.

🕸️or for that matter anyone.

🕸️Like one time, he let Peter B watch You And when he came back mayday was about to eat you.

——

“I got it dude”

“Are You sure You can Watch [___]?”

“Yes now go..literally you’re ruining the mood right now”

10 Minutes later…

“I’m back-”

“PETER!?”

“What!, What!?”

“Your child almost ate [___]…”

“…”

“I’m sorry?”

“…Hijo de puta…”

“Yea i deserve that…”

——

Pav- Yes(He wants to keep you forever..)

🪀Bro thinks you’re the cutest thing hes ever Seen

🪀he definitely calls you his little wormy

🪀he would keep you safe in a while mini House

🪀Like Bro made it And Everything

🪀he doesn’t want you to Turm Back Human

🪀Like…Ever 💀

🪀he definitely Rants to you about EVERYTHING

🪀he told you how miles called Chai, “chai tea”

——

“So im sitting there right And he just Says….Chai tea…”

“LIKE CMON MAN”

“PAV WHO ARE YOU TALKIN TO??!”

“NO ONE MAMA!”

His mom thinks he has an imaginary friend now….

Tags: @alisblackgf