#the man from uncle shitpost

[starscreamingg]

Local man gets home from work while family's asleep turns simple sleepytime routine into a playthrough of the last of us

[purge-samauwu]

“How you get money Friday and you broke Friday!?”

“How. Do. You get money at 9am and you broke at 4.”

Things my father has said😂

[rageprufrock]

I had to write this down so it would stop being inside of my brain--devil judge stupidity

I have a clinical dx that proves I lack the emotional self regulation to stop myself from doing stupid things and I just really really want to write something funny okay!!!! No clue if this is going anywhere. I have approx 100 ideas right now and can't be held responsible for my actions.

Actually, the whole thing is Elijah's fault, because if she exercised any of the restraint she used on the Korean-speaking internet for her English language shitposting accounts, they wouldn't be in this mess at all.

That said, she'll argue to the death that if her shitty uncle is going to subject her to his sweaty, old man chest and walk around the house after one of his workouts dripping sweat with his workout pants half-hanging off of his ass, she's going to shame him like truth coming out of her Instagram.

Unfortunately, the general reaction to her caption ("god my uncle is so gross") turns out to be a tsunami of absolutely unhinged horny commentary from a community she'd previously believed to be upright, clear-minded young women with promising careers in STEM. There's a run on eggplant emojis. There are so many eyeballs. Prayer hands left and right. People are calling Yohan "daddy" in sixteen languages.

It's funny in an absolutely repulsive way, and here, even Elijah has to admit to culpability, because in retrospect, when someone had commented, "so can your auntie fight?" she absolutely should not have posted a picture of Gaon from his army service, sun bronzed with his arms out, and said, "lol yeah."

Yohan works approximately 18 hours a day with breaks for the gym, to psychologically torture her over dinner, and an hour where Elijah puts on her noise canceling headphones and assiduously does not listen to whatever the fuck is happening down the hall in his bedroom. But he's also the nosiest, most intrusive person on the face of the earth with a squadron of terminally online assistants so it's only a matter of time before he's going to find out he's now internet famous and that there's an AO3 tag for "hot uncle/soldier boy (not The Boys)" and destroys all of her electronic equipment.

Gaon, who hasn't logged into social media in like three years, could feasibly go to his grave not knowing--except that he works in the juvenile court system which means she's not totally surprised when he comes home on Tuesday with a weird look on his face and says:

"Elijah, I think we've been hacked," he says, because he's a genuinely nice person who must have committed some kind of heinous crime in a past life to attract Kangs left and right. "I think someone got into our phones, or our wifi. One of my clients showed me a post today that looks like someone stole a CCTV picture of Yohan, and then posted some old picture from when I was in the army."

Elijah is listening with an active grimace on her face, trying to decide what to say and how to say it, when the SmartHome speaker crackles to life and Yohan's voice echoes out of it, saying:

"Kang Elijah, did you out Gaon and I with your fake instagram."

[chronicsinner]

Parent Tav x Zevlor + Uncle Astarion Headcanons

Imagine: Tav and Zevlor having a child (whether adopted or biological) and astarion is living with them as the sassy gay uncle.

Authors notes: This was supposed to be a shitpost but I just kept typing lmao. I will not be taking questions at this time.

Once the Elder Brain is defeated, you and Zevlor offer Astarion a place to stay. You know Astarion has been through enormous hardship and you don't wish for him to be thrusted into his freedom alone. He won't admit it, but he is very thankful to be able to stay with someone he is familiar with; especially when its day and he can't go outside.

After a year or so of living together, you discover you are pregnant (or discussing the logistics of adopting a child.) Zevlor, an older man who has never had a child of his own, becomes incredibly anxious. One night, in the privacy of the bedroom you two share, he expresses his concern about having a vampire around the baby. "You know I'm not one to judge.. but-" your partner exhales and pauses for a moment. "you're sure its safe to have a baby around a vampire?" You take Zevlor's hand in your own and give it a reassuring squeeze. You explain to him that Astarion is not a bad guy and how he was forced into being a vampire. "You are overthinking, Zev'. I know its difficult.. but please, trust me." You whisper. Zevlor sighs and with a soft smile, he agrees.

Once the child is born your vampire housemate is drawn to the puny creature; tiptoing into the nursery one night to peek over the bassinet as it sobs tiredly. For a moment, he feels awestuck at just how vulnerable the newborn is. Tiny rounded features with softly pointed ears and a teifling tail that is no thicker than a quill. Astarion speaks to the babe quietly, trying his best to keep it from waking it's exhausted parents. "Shhhh little one, its alright." He coos. After a moment of gentle shushing your child stops crying, finding the elf's gentle voice and the soft glow of his ruby eyes soothing. Immediately Astarion feels an unfamiliar warmth spread across his chest; its as if his undead heart is melting straight through his ribcage. He sighs before pulling up a chair and taking a seat next to the cradle. "I suppose its not as if I have anything better to do." he thinks to himself, trying his best to avoid the realm of possibility that he cares for the infant. In the following days, you mention offhandedly to Astarion that the baby has stopped crying at night. Zevlor reiterates you, saying how great it feels to finally get a full nights sleep. Astarion scoffs, giving a quick "Thank gods" before changing the subject.

However, as the years begin to pass, Astarion and your toddler become close. Much to your surprise Astarion starts to volunteer himself to watch your child whenever you or Zevlor express the desire to 'get away'. Although you knew Astarion was safe for your child to be around, you never figured he would actually have genuine interest in them. After all, he was only a close friend. He didn't have to concern himself with your child if he didn't want to and you made sure he knew that. But Astarion can no longer hide behind his usual facade of indifference and arrogance; his affection for your child is slowly becoming evident. Sometimes, Astarion will string himself along the sofa with a wine glass in one hand with your child being supported in the other. "I don't think your mother would appreciate it if I let you have a taste, my dear," he would say, holding his glass to the side as your child reaches for it. "Now, on the otherhand, if I were in charge.."

One afternoon while preparing lunch, you start to hear giggling coming from the hall's entryway behind you. As a protective mother of a michievious child, your interest is piqued. After a moment of thought, you decide to stop what you are doing and investigate. You dust the flour off your apron and stride down the hall, your mind beginning to race with all the possibilities of what your child could be getting into. The noise gets louder and louder as you walk until you approach your child's bedroom. You halt, pressing your ear to the door to listen for a moment but you are unable to make out any string of words. You twist the handle and your eyes widen as you open the door. Before you is Astarion, sat on the floor, with a feather boa around his neck. His wrist is pointing downward and his are fingers spread as your child is holding his pale hand by the knuckle. Upon further investivation you see that your child is painting Astarions nails a glittery black with comically crude level of precision. Astarion slowly turns his head over to you, his eyes half-lidded with mock offense. "Do you mind? I've waited all month for this appointment so you'll just have to come back later. Isn't that right (Your childs name?)" Astarion flashes you a faint reciprocating smile before turning back to your toddler.

If you ask Astarion how he feels about your child he will be very vague with his answer. "Oh, (your childs name?) Cunning little thing isn't she/he. Honestly, I didn't think I met anyone more stubborn than you until you decided to have kids with a tiefling commander." In truth, he absolute adores that kid. If anyone were to make the mistake of trying to lay a finger on your child he wouldn't hesitate to slit their neck.

Both Zevlor and you completely trust Astarion with your child at this point; even considering making him a godfather at one point. If you do decide to make him a godfather, he will get choked up; trying his damnest not to cry as all the emotions he has tried to hide for so long come crashing down.

[therealjordan23]

gwiles shitpost

ooo

The first thing Gwen had to do was tell Miles, and from some of the stories she had heard from other women, it was always one of the challenging parts. It wasn't supposed to be scary or difficult, but ever since the doctor confirmed her suspicions two weeks ago, anytime she tried telling Miles, she found the words die in her throat every time she opened her mouth. At this point, he must've been under the assumption that she had developed some form of memory loss.

The first night they were married, they had spent the night curled up in bed in Miles’ dimension. Too much had happened in too little time; they simply slept, wrapped up together all night. The next morning, Gwen woke up with her arm resting lightly against his bare chest, and she felt his steady heartbeat underneath her palm. She was relieved to find out that it wasn't a dream, and she had indeed gotten married to the man of her dreams. 

When he finally woke up an hour later, she kissed him with every ounce of passion she could muster, and they had truly become husband and wife in that one final threshold.

And now 4 months into the marriage, she was 2 months pregnant.

“Not that I don't like spending time with you," Hobie said thoughtfully. "But it's also dawn, Gwen. I thought you’d be asleep." 

Gwen had woken up early that morning, before the sun had begun to rise. She detangled herself from Miles' loving embrace, and pulled the covers up to his chin upon seeing goosebumps rise steadily on his chest from being exposed to the cold air. She kissed his forehead and silently dressed herself. Sneaking out, she headed to Hobie’s dimension where she knew he’d just be coming back home after a night of partying. True enough, she had found him, and together, they were taking a morning walk. 

"I needed to talk to you where other people wouldn't listen," Gwen insisted, sitting down on a tree trunk. "It's a secret."

"And Miles isn't in on this because…?"

"That's the problem."

She looked down at her hands and watched them shuffle and fidget. She'd been elated when she thought she might be pregnant, but she had to keep her excitement in check until she was sure. As soon as the doctor confirmed her suspicions, she took sudden permission from the universe to be as excited as possible. Truthfully she wasn't exactly sure if she and Miles were able to have children considering that they were from different universes. It was something they had accepted and talked about before tying the knot, and she was ecstatic to learn that yes, they were able to conceive children. Gwen wondered immediately if it would be a baby boy or girl, whether they would have a son or a daughter. She hoped the baby had her eyes and Miles' hair, and as much as she relished saying Gwen Stacy-Morales to herself often, she was even more excited that her children would share the same last name. Miles was the father of her children and she was the mother of his. 

She wanted to communicate all of this to Miles, but she never found the words.

"Talk Gwendy, what's wrong?" Hobie asked, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

"I'm pregnant."

Why was it so easy to tell Hobie and not Miles? Well, perhaps because Hobie had little stake in it other than being the fun uncle. She and Hobie would not be forever bound by this life that they both created and shared. 

That didn't stop him from turning pale and his eyes went wide. Gwen groaned.

"I don't know how to tell Miles, and you're freaking out, which means he'll definitely freak out, and it shouldn't be this hard! And at this point, he won't find out until I actually have the baby, and just say, 'Hi, this is yours', and, oof—!"

She was cut off by a very sudden and very tight hug. After a moment Hobie jumped back though.

"Sorry, I don't want to hurt you, love," he said, eyes darting to her still flat stomach and laughing nervously. "Congratulations Gwen! I’m so happy!"

Gwen smiled at that, and relaxed for the first time in days. "Really?" she asked.

Hobie looked at her in disbelief. "Are you daft? What do you mean 'really'? Of course, Gwen! Miles is basically my brother, you're like my sister!"

"I'm just nervous."

Hobie moved to kneel in front of her. "About what?"

"About what? About everything! Miles will lose his mind—"

"Why?" Hobie challenged. 

She fumbled for an answer. "B-because he's going to be a father! His entire world is going to change, and suddenly, we're going to have a baby to take care of—"

"Gwen." 

Hobie took her hands gently but with purpose. When she refused to look up, he put a few fingers beneath her chin and tilted her up until her eyes met his. And then he smiled the warmest smile he had ever shown her. 

"No one is going to make better parents than you and Miles," he said very plainly. "Miles was born to be a father, and despite not knowing if he could, he's always wanted kids. And you've always been such a kind, gentle, nurturing person. And even better, you two are in love. That's rarer than it should be when it comes to parents. Hell, I wish my parents weren't separated, but here we are, Gwen. Love between parents is rare to come across these days. I know you'll both love that baby with all your heart because you love each other."

It was surprising how deep Hobie could be, and he had a point. She had been elated in the first seconds of knowing she'd be a mother, because she knew that they were doing this together. That's what a baby was: two lovers coming together to create an entire universe made up of stars from his eyes, planets from her hair, comets from their skin.

"Tell him Gwen. I mean right now when you get home. If you don't, I can't guarantee I can keep quiet for long," he laughed.

She smiled, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, gave his hair a stroke, and stood, opening a portal back to Earth-1610. Hobie gave her one last hug as she walked through the portal to the front door of their home. Gwen entered just as quietly as she'd left.

The house was still dark. In the bedroom Miles had moved, turning onto his side with his hands bunched beneath the blanket. He was still heavily asleep, his breathing very deep. Gwen took a deep breath. She kneeled in front of him and gently brushed her hands through his hair. It was always soft and thick and curly. She studied his features intently: he had grown up a lot from their teenage days. Miles grew to be around 6’2 while she stayed 5’10, keeping his hair relatively the same. He had a light stubble, and was a lot more filled out and lean.He began to stir slightly at the touches, his eyes slowly creaking open. She leaned forward and kissed him until his eyes opened completely and he kissed her back lightly.

"Are you awake?" she said.

"Hmfph," he gave as a response, his voice thick, blinking rapidly.

She fought back a laugh. "Are you really awake? It's important," she said.

Miles pulled a hand up to his eyes and roughly rubbed the sleep out of them before pinching at the bridge of his nose. He sat up, the blanket falling down and exposing his skin to the chilly morning air and he shivered. He gave his hair a once through with his own hand before turning to Gwen with clearer eyes.

"Sí, mi amor, I'm awake," he said, yawning. "Are you alright?" 

She took a deep breath through the nose, and told herself when she exhaled out would also come the news about the baby.

"I'm pregnant, Miles," she said.

He looked at first like he'd misunderstood her. Then his jaw fell open. His eyes looked down with such concentration she thought he might have been reading an invisible book.

But when Miles' eyes finally snapped back to Gwen, he smiled and his eyes were like fireworks. In one fluid motion he grabbed and pulled her in and rolled over. He tightly hugged Gwen who hugged him back. The anxious weight on her chest finally dissipated, and a garden of flowers replaced it. She told Miles, and it felt amazing.

He was whispering words of adoration in her ear while she just pulled at him tighter and relished the smell and feel of skin.

"I love you, Gwen," he said plainly and quietly.

"I love you too," she returned.

They spent half the day in bed, talking about names, taking bets on whose hair and eyes it would have. Miles insisted it would be the best Spider person; Gwen said she didn't care as long as they were happy and didn't set foot in an abandoned subway tunnel. He brought her food on a tray, insisted they'd buy all new food immediately, fresh food, he'd bring it to her whenever she needed. She laughed and told him it would be months before she'd truly need that.

It had been the best day of Gwen's life, but she knew there could only be one day that could outdo it.

But she'd have to wait 9 months. 

[benijbol]

Things Benjicot Blackwood would tweet;

A/N; Going insane waiting for uni to start so I'm taking my lack-of-a-schedule boredom out on writing stupid shit like this.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ✣ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

@/BenjiNOT: "Should probably update my bio to 'professional shitposter, part-time knight, full-time pain in Crispin Cole's ass.' Thoughts?"

@/BenjiNOT: "Here’s a meme of Otto Hightower looking like he just stepped out of a crypt. Oh wait, that’s just his face."

@/BenjiNOT: "Do you know how hard it is to keep an ancient household from crumbling under the weight of a million scrolls and zero actual heirs worth a damn? One of my cousins thinks he’s a literal tree. Like… a TREANT. I wish I was kidding." @/BenjiNOT: "Keep playing in my mentions and I’ll show up to your house with a raven that won’t shut up until you apologize. Consider it an emotional support bird."

@/BenjiNOT: "I just KNOW Lord Larys has an OnlyFans but instead of feet pics it's just like, random people's deepest secrets and blackmail material. Dude’s out here monetizing dirt like it's 4D chess. We’re not the same." @/BenjiNOT: "Finally went to therapy and the therapist told me that my ‘feud complex’ isn’t normal. Imagine paying someone to tell you that the Brackens aren’t worth your mental health. Not sure I can trust the process anymore." @/BenjiNOT: "So, the next family gathering is coming up and I'm trying to figure out how to get out of it. Can I just… fake an illness? The plague maybe? Will my auntie Blackwood buy it if i tell her I've contracted "Dragonscale flu"? probably not but It’s worth a shot. Anything to avoid another 3-hour lecture from my uncle about legacy. Literally nothing makes me want to die more than hearing a man say “legacy” in a serious tone." @/BenjiNOT: "Currently sitting at the Ravenry, watching my cousin (definitely Davos) try to court an actual tree. Guess I’m the only normal one left around here. If I start knitting it’s over for all of you." @/BenjiNOT: "So I took up candle-making. Accidentally summoned a minor forest spirit instead. Long story short, I think I’m married now. To a bush. And like, I’m fine with it? Anything’s better than dealing with my family at the next feast."

Probably tweets about it five days later at 3AM being like,

@/BenjiNOT: "I’m still thinking about that tree, though. Could it work out between us? I mean, it doesn’t talk back, doesn’t care if I drag Brackens or wear my cloak wrong… Y’know, for a bush, it’s low-key perfect?"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ✣ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bonus;

“Listen up, you utter knaves and simpletons,” he types furiously, the caps lock an angry beacon of rage. “If I see one more take about House Blackwood being ‘literally so irrelevant,’ I swear on the Old Gods, New Gods, and whatever pagan deity you’re praying to that I’ll hunt you down with a crossbow. And I’m great with a crossbow. Won archery tournaments before you were even a twinkle in your stupid House Bracken-supporting mother’s eye.”

[justaneedle]

My shitpost about authors, meta, fandoms and all:

I don't like Rick Riordan. I think it's clear. No ‘Uncle’ Rick here. No ‘PJO better than HP’ because of JKR. Grow up. That's just too adult-ass people with their advantages and disadvantages. They are not the Devil himself, and certainly not a pedestal. Just fucking people.

I mean, Rick was the fucking pussy about the movies (now just look at his tv show and say in my fucking face this man has any right to hate these movies without even watching it), but because it was approved by a large part of the extremely hypocritical PJO fandom everyone were ok with it.

I've always didn't give a fuck about the authors and PJO and HP. I liked and disliked what they wrote, cause my feelings about their product are what I care about in the first place. The degree of toxicity of their fandoms is second. These are MY favorite sandboxes and I play in it.

Any opinion how I can't consume content for this sandbox in any form goes to fuck themselves. If you cannot separate the personality of the author from piece of art, you are can go from the fandom and never step back. Meanwhile I'll as always build my castles in the sandbox where percabeth is not the best ship, where I read Luke's interaction with other characters not with my ass, where I like hinny and romiona, where I think Snape is worse than James and still remain a part of these cursed fandoms.

[howlingday]

Searching for Fae

Ruby: JAUNE! We need to find a way to make people like us again!

Jaune: People don't like us? What about our fans?

Ruby: Some of them are old and decrepit and they've got gall bladders the size of your head from all your shitposts.

Jaune: Our shitposts.

Ruby: We need to adapt or die!

Jaune: Uh, okay... So what do people like?

Ruby: As much as I can tell, they like flashy sword fights, sexy 3D models, and finding cryptids, like fairies and trolls.

Jaune: But not catboys?

Ruby: Catboys? What?! No! I already told you to forget about including catboys in our posts! Why can't you understand this?! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!

Jaune: Calm down, Ruby. Alright, let's brainstorm here. 18 to 40 year old people; what makes them hard?

Ruby: Uh... I don't really know why you'd ask that, but I did see this question coming, so I brought some samples.

Jaune: (Looks at picture) Oh my god! Is this... Is this a man... turned into a walrus?! I can't do this, can I?!

Ruby: No, no, no. That isn't our demographic.

Jaune: (Flips) Oh, okay. So they like anthropomorphic animals, but not catboys. (Flips, Flips, Flips) Why are there so many of these?

Ruby: (Shrugs)

Jaune: (Flips, Flips, Flips, Flips) Forget it... What was that thing you said about cryptids?

Ruby: People today are crazy about found footage of cryptids and other fairy tale things.

Jaune: So if we could capture a cryptid on camera-

Qrow: Forget it, kid!

Jaune: Agh, Qrow! How long have you been sitting there?

Qrow: You kids are pathetic, clinging to your dwindling statistics and your poor perception of demographics. Unaware of the youth no longer caring for Out of Touch Thursdays and Fingers in his-

Ruby: Shut up, Uncle Qrow! We're doing our best! Anyway, do you know where we can find some cryptids?

Qrow: Cryptids? I've tasted the bitter tears of the dark and the unknown. I know about the world in-between where the beasties lie still!

Jaune: O...kay?

Ruby: Is that a yes?

Qrow: Follow me! (Leaves)

Ruby: ...Finally, he's gone! Now, about faking some footage, I've got a couple of ideas.

[cyberphuck]

Assassin’s Apprentice Abridged: Part Two

Read Part One (My friend Razz wants to understand my Farseer Trilogy shitposts but doesn’t want to have to actually read the books, so I decided to summarize them. This turned out to be much harder than I thought it would be! Here’s part two of ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE: ABRIDGED!) When we last left our hero, Fitz was a little baby following an old man into a hole in the wall.

"Gosh, Chade," Fitz says, after a wholesome montage of him learning how to steal things and poison people, "I love hanging out with you. It sure is neato to have a friend. I get to do all sorts of pranks around the castle, and once in a while the King even calls me to his rooms to remind me I'm a tool of the Crown!"

"You know what would be really funny?" Chade asks, eyes alight with glee.

Jump cut to Fitz's Twilight-esque depressive episode. He lays in bed for days, staring at the wall, refusing to get up. Burrich comes up to his rooms to ask Fitz what the fuck is going on with him and assumes he's dying.

Fitz can't tell him that Chade asked him to steal from the King and he refused, because everything about Chade is a secret. Burrich doesn't know that Chade told Fitz that if he wasn't game to yoink something from Shrewd's chambers, that he could get the fuck out and never come back.

"Watch this, Shrewd! You can actually pinpoint the second when Fitz's heart rips in half!"

(Burrich tries to cure Fitz's ailment by introducing him to alcoholism. He's like ten.)

Sitting in his room alone and drunk, Fitz starts wailing. He cries and cries until Chade finally comes back down through the secret wall-door to hug him. "Me and Shrewd wanted to see if you were really loyal," he says. "So we traumatized you. We really wanted to introduce you to depression, alcohol, and abject betrayal at a young age and this was the quickest way to do it."

"I want my mommy," Fitz sobs.

"There, there," Chade says, drugging him and leaving.

Later, Fitz is summoned to speak to King Shrewd again, who explains that it was all his idea to give Fitz borderline personality disorder and absolutely does not apologize for it. Fitz takes a knife from the breakfast table in Shrewd's room, brings it back to Chade, and stabs it into the mantle above the fireplace.

I like to think that every time Fitz throws himself into needless danger for the next ten books, Chade looks up at that knife and goes "lol. lmao."

--

"Hey Lil Accident," says Head Scribemaster, "you're pretty good at writing. You wanna be my apprentice?"

"Gosh. I'd get to go places and do things," Fitz marvels. "And almost none of them would involve poisoning people!"

Chade Mission-Impossible drops from the ceiling and hangs above Fitz for long enough to tell him that no, he can't be a scribe's apprentice, for one thing he's already learning to be an assassin, and for another Fitz is kind of an important political tool, being a bastard of a Prince, and someone would definitely murder him.

"Sorry," Fitz tells the Scribemaster, "my uncle said no."

"But you can go down into town and buy some stuff for me, since you've been good," Chade says, reeling back up into the rafters.

Fitz jumps to his feet. "Oh, boy, social interaction! I haven't seen my hoodlum friends in a year! And you know who ELSE I haven't seen in a long time? MY MOM!"

He strides happily past a sad woman in the street wearing an anime mom side ponytail, completely ignoring her in favor of his old friend Molly Nosebleed, who goes by Molly Chandler now that her dad has stopped punching her in the face.

"You're the only girl I know, besides that hysterical woman over there screaming that I'm her son," Fitz says. "I think I have a crush on you."

"Neat," Molly giggles.

Lovestruck Fitz gathers his groceries and heads back up the road to the keep. Princes Verity and Regal ride by, carrying a banner that says "CHIVALRY'S DEAD. THE PRINCE, NOT THE CONCEPT. I MEAN THE CONCEPT IS ALSO DEAD, BUT THE MAIN POINT OF THIS MESSAGE IS THAT PRINCE CHIVALRY FARSEER HAS FALLEN FROM HIS HORSE AND"

Burrich shaves his head. And his beard. And his eyebrows. And his dog's hair. And Fitz's hair too, for good measure. Fitz, rubbing his new buzzcut, says "God, if you loved him so much, maybe you should have married him," and Burrich flings himself into the sea.

"We should be careful," Chade says, later. "Because Chivalry was probably murdered. Anyway, you're going on a road trip. tl;dr one of the dukes isn't properly manning the watchtowers that keep vikings from viking the coast, and Prince Verity has to go deal with it, and you're going with him."

"What's a teal deer?" Fitz asks.

Wandering around outside the castle later, Fitz runs into Shrewd's Fool with a capital F, the albino freak-child that cartwheels around in the King's wake all day.

"Oh no," Fitz says. "Are you lost, little freak child?"

"fjdaklfdafds," says the Fool.

"Come on little fella, I'm not gonna hurt you," Fitz smiles.

"FDAJKFDLALSDFAS," the Fool repeats, louder.

"Do you need an adult?"

The Fool steps up to Fitz, grabs him by the shirt, yanks him down to eye level, and says, "Fitz Fixes a Feist's Fits. Fat Suffices, you fucking beautiful dumbass."

Fitz stares at him.

"I thought you were too dumb to know how words worked," he says finally.

The Fool flips him off and cartwheels away.

"...Weird," Fitz mutters. "Whatever, time to go to NEATBAY! I hope I get to kill somebody!" On the way to Neatbay (in a riding party consisting of Prince Verity and like half the staff of Buckkeep), Fitz pals around with stableboy Hands, and meets Mysterious Old Person Lady Thyme, who is a person that sucks in every way possible.

Hands whispers to Fitz that everyone in Buck knows that Lady Thyme sucks and avoids her. Lady Thyme shrieks that you whippersnappers better not be liking yourselves up there!

Fitz and co. finally arrive in Neatbay. It's a walled city like the place in Attack on Titan, with concentric fortifications like an obstacle course that Vikings have never been able to Vike all the way past (this will not be important again until the next book). It's ruled by Lord Kelvar and his trophy wife and if Kelvar doesn't get off his ass and start manning the watchtowers Fitz might have to poison him to death.

They have dinner. Fitz hates rich people. He eyeballs everybody at the table.

That night before bed, Verity calls Fitz into his room. "What's going on with Lord What's His Face?" He asks the boy.

Fitz explains a very complex situation about how Lord Kelvar is clearly trying to impress his Young Hotness Wife with lots of jewels and shit and his Young Hotness Wife is trying to impress everyone else with her jewels and shit and meanwhile all those jewels and shit could be going to pay to man the watchtowers and the roads, and Kelvar has to take some pride in doing it or else he'll become embittered and...

"I'm going to tell Lord Kelvar to stop being a puss and man the watchtowers," Verity says, and turns over to go to sleep.

Fitz facepalms.

Late in the night, Fitz wakes up starving and ninja-sneaks down to the kitchens to grab a midnight snack. While he's there, a woman comes in with a little doggie wrapped in a blanket.

"My poor little doggie is dying," she sobs. "This type of dog is a small hunting dog called a 'feist,' by the way."

"Hack," says the dog.

"I think your dog is choking on something," Fitz observes, whipping out his stethoscope. "Yeah, there's definitely something jammed down there. Let's get it out. Hold your dog steady."

Fitz finds a long hook, slathers it in butter, and wiggles it down the dog's throat while the dog yowls and pees and scratches the Mysterious Blanket Woman. It takes a minute, but eventually he manages to dislodge a chicken bone from doggie's gullet and they all sit back, panting, while LeVar Burton comes onto the screen and lectures the audience about never letting your pets eat poultry or fish bones and the importance of limiting table scraps and keeping them on a healthy diet. Thanks LeVar!

"You saved my doggie's life," Blanket Woman says, and pulls back her blanket to reveal that she is actually Lord Kelvar's Young Hotness Wife! "I shall repay you in any way you wish."

"I'm thirteen," Fitz says.

"Any way you wish," the woman repeats.

Fitz scratches his head. "Oh! Tell your idiot husband to man the fucking watchtowers before you get Vikinged to death. I mean," he amends, "I had a prophetic vision that a strong and graceful trophy wife spread out her arms to protect the laaand wooooo~"

Then he goes back to bed.

...And is woken up YET AGAIN by a servant telling him that Lady Thyme is demanding his presence down in town.

Oh. Joy.

Fitz gets dressed, saddles up Sooty the horse, rides to the inn that Lady Thyme is staying at, knocks on the door. "I heard you're calling for me," he sighs. "Are you dying or something? Please say you're dying."

Chade opens the door. "Fooled you, boy," he cackles. "I am Lady Thyme! And we have to go to Forge right now."

"You made me empty out a pot full of your shit every single morning for five days," Fitz says.

"Get on your horse," Chade orders, and they're off.

"You know, I've never actually seen you outdoors before," Fitz says as they gallop down the coast. "It's-- are you snorting coke right now?"

Chade sneezes, wiping his nose. "Stay in school."

They ride hell-for-leather for Forge, a little town known for two things: iron exports and being raided by Vikings. They manage to get there twelve hours after the nick of time because Chade had to return some VHS tapes, and find little more than a completely burned-down village and some zombies.

"Chade, are those slow zombies like in Dawn of the Dead, or fast zombies like in the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake?" Fitz asks, watching the zombies shambling around and fighting over pieces of rotten bread and pairs of pants.

"Run," Chade advises, and they do.

On the road out, they pass a bunch of non-zombie survivors moving all their slightly singed possessions to another town. Nobody wants to stay in a town infested with zombies, which the people of the kingdom start calling Forged people, or just Forged, because one of the rules of zombie movies is that none of the characters can say "zombies."

Over the course of the next few months, more and more people are kidnapped by Vikings and Forged, but no one can agree exactly what should be done about it.

And then one night, Fitz is picking his nose alone at a table in the kitchens when another mysterious woman approaches him…

[dear-departed]

Damn O'driscolls (FTM Reader)

Desc.: Being an outlaw, you partner with Colm. It bites you in the ass, and now, Dutch has you in his claws. Welcome to the gulag, get gelded. Slight y/n used once.

Word count: 1.15K

Genre: Misc. Shitpost?

Character(s): Dutch Van Der Linde, Bill Williamson, Arthur Morgan, little cameo from Lenny Summers and Uncle.

Curse that damned Colm O’driscoll. It was supposed to be a partnership, just a lone outlaw working with a gang for the cut of the profits- that's all. And that’s all it was, until a shot nicked your shoulder. None of the O’driscoll boys looked back as your horse sped off, spooked by all the sudden gunfire.  

And so here you are, tied to a tree at the Van Der Linde camp, after being dragged in by none other than Arthur Morgan himself.  

They’d been starving you for what felt like months, though you knew it was only a week or two. They gave you just enough care for you to not die. The ropes around your wrists had begun to dig into your wrists, to rub them raw. Maybe they’ve even begun to bleed, but you can’t tell, too tired and hungry to care. You’re unsure as to what hurts the most, your stomach, your throat, your head, your feet, or your wrists. The back of your shirt had come untucked, riding up your back as the sharp, unforgiving bark of the tree you’re tied to relentlessly stabs into the tender flesh of your back.  

You glance up at Arthur, “please, c’mon, I swear, I know nothin’!” you plead with him. He grabs you by the collar of your partially unbuttoned shirt. “Speak, boy! ‘bout your gang!” he demands. You bare your teeth at him, glaring, “I can’t! They ain’t my gang!” you exclaim. Being the only weapon, you have, you try to reach down and bite him, but you’re a little too sluggish to reach his hand before he yanks it away from you.  

Dutch crosses his arms, “you’ll tell a lie, but never the truth.” He scoffs. “There’s only one way for us to get anything out of him, boys.” He speaks. Bill marches up near the side of you, staring into your eyes with a mean glare. If looks could kill, you’d certainly be a dead man. Bill’s eyes are dry, almost matt, the whites of his eyes irritated and red.  

“Geld him.” Dutch says simply, with a smirk. He scissors his fingers toward Bill.  

Panic rips its path through your veins as you begin to thrash and squirm in your bindings. “H-hold on now- listen, no-”  

Dutch slaps you hard on the shoulder with a chuckle, “they’re only balls, boy!” He begins to unfasten your belt, then your pants, saying something about Roman men or whatnot, but everything just sounds fuzzy. You try to kick away his hands, to no avail, simply only kicking up dirt and dust into his face.  

Your pants pool to your ankles, dread pumping in your ears. Dutch and Arthur don’t look down at your crotch, not exactly wanting to look at an enemy’s privates. Bill pulls the gelding tongs out of the fire, the metal glowing in a threatening manner.  

Bill excitedly snaps the red-hot gelding tongs, waves of heat swirling around the metal. But when his gaze goes downward, his expression drops. “Uh. Dutch.” He says, worried.  

“If he won’t talk, then we have no choice, Bill, geld ‘em.” Dutch repeats.  

“Dutch-” 

“What?” 

“...There’s nothin’ ta geld.” Bill mutters, awkwardly holding the tongs near your crotch. You swear he’s singing your public hair the longer he holds it near your thighs.  

Dutch seems frustrated. “What do you mean there’s nothing to geld, you- Oh.” He says as he stares down at your crotch. “Oh- Ma’am, I am... we are so sorry.” He says as he fumbles with your pants, trying to pull them back up.  

���No!” You shout, “I ain’t a ma’am, you’ve got it all wrong!” It’s hard to explain exactly what you are, without seeming crazy to these cowboys, so you dance around the subject. “I was, uh, born with a medical condition. It’s not serious- just means I was, uh... Born with the wrong parts. A birth defect.” You speak. 

Bill, Arthur, and Dutch exchange glances, a mix of bewilderment and shame crossing their faces. “So... ya ain’t a cross-dresser...” Bill says, more to himself than anyone else. You nod in confirmation.  

“I’ve been tryna tell ya’ll for lord knows how  how long. Look’it me, do I got any green on me?” You ask.  

“No, sir, you do not.” Dutch says, examining you head to toe inquisitively.  

“And O’driscolls wear green. L-listen, I just needed money, promised to exchange some of my work for a little bit of the profits- just a regular ol’ outlaw tryna make a livin’.” You grumble out. “Colm... that rat bastard- he told me nothin’ about his next plans, just the job we were doin’.” You explain.  

Dutch simply nods at Arthur, who makes quick work of cutting your bindings. “Get outta here.” Arthur mumbles, shooing you off like a wild animal.  

“No- no no no” You laugh out, wagging your finger. “Colm left me for dead, regardless of if I was part of his gang or not. I wanna grind his gears. I ain’t ever been in a gang before, but... I’m sure working with his mortal enemy and doin’ a hell of a good job at it would be real frustrating for ‘em.” You say.  

Dutch mills over your words in his head for a moment, a smirk crossing his features. He holds a jeweled hand out to you. “Deal. Any funny business, though...” He says, pulling you close as soon as you grab his hand. “And I’ll have your head. We have a saying, friend: we shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed ‘em as need feeding. I’ve got an inkling on what you need.” He says, a low purr right in your face. Then, he pulls away. “Somebody get this boy a meal! We’ve got a new boy, this calls for a celebration, does it not?”  

As the night goes on, you’re sitting next to Bill. He glances at you, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. “Say, boy... Whatever happened to yer... y’know...” He murmurs, pointing to his chest, and cupping his clothed pecs in his hands, not exactly wanting to say it.  

You laugh with a shake of your head, taking a swig of your own whiskey. You unbutton your shirt, pulling apart the fabric to reveal two thick pinkish-white lines beneath your nipples. They’re jagged, with little to no precision. The scars are puffy, parts of it seem a little fresher than others. “Cut ‘em off, all by myself.”  

Bill winces, facing his chest away from you as if you’d do the same to him. Uncle stares at the scars, “goddamn!” He exclaims, “more of a man than I’d ever be... of course- other than that one time I took down a bear with my own two hands.” he says, going off into another one of his long-winded stories of his youth.  

Lenny quirks a brow at you curiously, taking a gulp of his beer. “How’d you do it?”  

You pull out your hunting knife with a flourish, “with this very knife, and lotsa whiskey. Lots of whiskey. I figured if the infection didn’t kill me, the alcohol would.” You laugh gruffly.  

“So... was you born with a deep voice?” Bill asks.  

“No, I had to train that myself. I sounded like a little boy until I was around your age, Lenny.” You recall. “Still look like one... my face doesn’t seem to wanna grow facial hair...” You say, thoughtfully stroking your would-be beard.  

The gang treats you no differently, may that be for the better or for worse, but you aren’t quite sure.  

[suliscool]

Amnesia: The Bunker Updated Lore - why does Augustin Lambert look older in his prewar photo? (spoilers!)

Often times when analysing the traumatic effects of war on soldiers, a theme will emerge -- people tend to look much older than they actually are after the war ends. Hundreds of before and after photos, only a couple years apart, yet the men in them are barely recognisable ever since they have endured such horrors. Much more thought was put into the effects of prolonged conflict on civilians and participants starting with the first half of the 20th century, hence why it is often explored in media concerning WW1 and WW2. When I initially picked up the game, I quickly noticed how clean, calm, collected, healthy and ~smooth~ Augustin looked in the pre-trench photo with Henri. Then I contrasted this with his in-game model. His dirty complexion, greasy hair and traumatised look all stood out to me in contrast to this photo. He actually looked around the same age as in the game. Supposedly, he would end up looking much more worn out and old later on.

New Lambert seems to contradict this phenomenon. The Great War appears to have rejuvenated him, changing his appearance, from that of your weird uncle, to an actually younger looking man, just with a thousand yard stare. Why is that? Well, I might have an explanation. Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between, I believe that Lambert is no man. Perhaps he was once human, but that was before he acquired the ability to live forever. I think that with each successful prank, each friend infected with lice and each barmaid incident caused, he becomes younger. As seen in the new photo of him and Henri, oh, he has gone without being silly for far too long. Slowly turning into a raisin, or worse, he knew he had to go to the place of ultimate whimsy, that being the front of war.

Augustin Lambert could've kept himself alive for centuries more, using his revolutionary method of extracting and absorbing vitae by shitposting but, alas, things went awry. The devil he had made a deal with did not let him off so easily. The condition had been broken. Lambert's pranking streak was suddenly shattered when he had not pissed in anyone's flask for, perhaps even, two days. When Henri found him in that pit, it was already too late. Augustin was now undergoing the transformation into his true form. With plenty of time to think, the many layers of irony were peeled away, and Lambert remembered his roots. At the end of those days, all that remained was the Beast, attempting to rejuvenate itself by blood and gore, if it cannot do so through goofy antics. As many YouTube pranksters have taught us across the centuries, killing your friend is the final prank. Lambert clearly took it to heart as he executed multiple dozens of french guys.

-- sul

for all my brothers and sisters in autism, this post is ironic

[renewedmotionforjudgment]

Chasing Abs Jade Live-blogging, chapters 24-30

We had 2 whole chapters without the author mentioning how beautiful the ML is. I was getting worried.

🚩🚩🚩 let’s gooo

In the next instant, the knife had already stabbed directly into the gash on his waist. The black-clad man let out an extremely pained groan, his entire body curling up.

Xie Zheng lowered his eyes, his pale fingers covered in dark scabs twisting the knife handle, almost literally tearing a chunk of flesh from his abdomen. His tone was casual yet cold, “The mouths of military spies are tougher than yours. Minister of Justice Zhang Su once watched a military interrogation and nearly vomited bile after leaving the camp. He even fell seriously ill afterward. Do you want to try the military’s torture methods?”

They are bonding! But also author is back to describing the ML’s beauty. I’m relieved.

Lmaooo the vinegar at the ex-fiancé.

Xie Zheng’s fingers, which had been lightly tapping on the bamboo armrest, paused. His eyes half-closed, his words carrying an acidity he wasn’t even aware of: “Still not over your former fiancé? Feeling upset again at the mention of him?”

Dude casually being like “what’s so impressive about ex-fiancé’s official he’s so ranking” it’s not like he’s a marquis or a thing.

FL’s house got searched by ML’s evil uncle (tm). Her family background is definitely something of plot significance.

Looool ML telling FL “he earned some money writing essays” and it was 4 silver ingots. Dude is pretending to be dead while shitposting on Ye Olde Substack.

Ok ok ok ML has a wisp of loose hair at his temples????

The translation keep calling what I presumed to be a bodyguard agency as an “escort agency” and my brain is in the gutter

There’s some mutual pining now that he’s more healed?? The classic “we entered into a marriage of convenience but soon we no longer have to and I feel strange about that.”

[tiny-wren]

QUINN HEADCANONS

FINALLY! She is my comfort character so some of these won't be what you might be expecting lol but here we go.

GNC acting, probably nonbinary/genderfluid but just hasn't realized it yet. distracts herself with work too much to even get into self discovery, but its THERE. still fem aligned though

shitty relationship with her family, estranged even

ABANDONMENT ISSUES?!?!?!? (unrelated to Timm, but he certainly didn't HELP.)

a lot of ppl hc her as autistic and yknow what so do i wheee! :)

demiaro demisexual she only cares about one man we know this

very introverted

does NOT handle rejection well. Obviously. * gestures at Just Quinn and Associates name *

CAT LOVER CAT LOVER CAT LOVER

the jokes about her being a furry i enjoy because honestly, what is stopping her from commissioning a full fursuit. she can afford it.

anxiety lol. time related anxiety. obvious choice

BEST FRIENDS WITH JOJO ik some people ship them but I think they're just besties! :} she is closest with him than anyone.

feels affectionate towards roy and cares abt him almost like a son. she is his uncles lawyer so i think they would've interacted quite a bit, and she sees this messed up little anxious guy and kind of relates her younger self to him.

confesses her feelings to Timm first; she is also, later on, the one who proposes. she is also pretty darn romantic towards him

she can actually be very charming and confident, but most of it is an act, overcompensating for the hurt

genuine caffeine addiction

also a fucking insomniac

chronic overthinker

runs on just 4 hours of sleep

NATURAL GINGER but she dyes her hair a dark maroon

a bit goth but shes gotta be all business smh set her FREE.

There are probably more but I forgot what I was gonna say, but I made this shitpost

[synthapostate]

Return of the Ever-Expanding WIP List

I'm doing this again. Organizing the list is part of my process I guess.

Resist Psychic Death - Possessed Newt. Next chapter: the Geiszlers arrive in Hong Kong.

The Tropes Nobody Asked For - A bodyswap AU. This would be complete if I could come up with a concluding paragraph to wrap things up. (It's been months, man, get it together.)

I could be writing sweaty nerd sex like a normal person but no - Maybe if I changed the title I could wrap my head around this? (I should just scrap this and be done with it.)

Heating Pad - A cat adopts Hermann.

Miserable, Lonely and Depressed (Pathetic) - The return of Cool Uncle Newt. (He’s not cool, he’s possessed.)

Vampire AU - I mean obviously I had to write a vampire AU at some point. (Comedy.)

Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid of a Bomb - Newt tries to solve capitalism. I don’t think this is even going anywhere, but I like the title too much to let it go.

Cold as Ice - Hurt/Comfort? Something. Contains no hurt/comfort and has nothing to do with cold or ice, but…it’s…something. A convergence of “whoever will take him” and (numbers) “will never betray me”. Hurt people hurt people, but survivors can be kind. (I wrote to what I thought was the end and nothing was resolved, so now I don't know.)

Newt’s Passion - A sex pollen fic. (No, it isn’t.) (Zom com.)

Here Begins the Land of Phantoms - Vampires, full horror. Gore, angst, little bit of body horror. Next chapter: Tendo Choi is a really nice guy.

Consent is Sexy - A team-building exercise leads to certain confessions that would not be made while sober.

Cold as Ice 2: Alaskan Boogaloo - It's not set in Alaska. I struggle desperately to get these men into the situation they need to be in, to no avail.

The Worst Thing I Can Possibly Imagine - My genuine attempt to work through something, but then I thought of a punchline so now it’s a funny little shitpost.

Splash - A…feelings thing. The first tentative steps toward getting along.

Caffeine Blues - I swore I would never write a coffee shop au, but…One chapter to go? December is becoming a monster chapter that might have to split again. Next chapter: Newt finally sees Hermann in those tights.

Stop You Have Enough WIPs - Some silly fluff for these stressful times.

Shoes - Newt’s past catches up with him. Hermann is intrigued.

Groundhog Day - Hey man, these sci fi tropes exist for a reason.

Newt and Hermann Go On Six Dates - I write fluff now. Next chapter: An impromptu road trip takes the fellas to the state fair.

Hermann Gets Shot - It is so dangerous to start a fight in an elevator when one of the people you’re fighting has a gun.

Return to Sender - Newt leaves Hong Kong to work for Shao. Angst. Uhhhhh I used that title for something else. What’s another song about letters?

Find Me in the Drift - Sequel to Dinner With a Friend. Haven't decided yet if I'll make the next part a second chapter or its own fic, but, next chapter/fic: Mako can believe that Newt has become a capitalist douchebag who buys his own hype, but alarm bells ring when Hermann returns from Shanghai with an easygoing smile and a positive attitude. Why is he trying to get along with everyone?

The Curse of Gottlieb Manor - In which I actually try to write horror on purpose, and give myself the most intense nightmares I’ve had in years. I’m toning it down for the actual story.

Painting the Kitchen - About finding a future after the apocalypse is averted.

Total Eclipse of the Heart - Jake Pentecost doesn’t trust Newt, decides to keep a close eye on him to guard Hermann’s back, and accidentally ends up with two new dads.

A Kidnapping - Um…it’s a kidnapping.

Wake Up, Dr. Jones! - More trauma. Possibly too much trauma actually. Scrap this?

Space Opera - When the first kaiju comes through the breach, Newt fires off a plea for help into deep space. There can’t be just one alien race out there, right? Maybe some of them will be on our side.

Third Act Breakup - I hate romcoms. Let’s do this thing.

Sweet Siren Song - Newt is doing his biology thing in the Atlantic, Hermann is an inexperienced sailor who shouldn’t be out alone on a day like this, they both get caught in a storm, turns out mermaids are real. (Romance.) (Accidental horror.)

What’s Your Angle - Turns out mermaids are real. (Horror.) (Accidental romance?)

Etiquette and Protocol - Loosely based on a dream, the boys are forced to take an etiquette class because anger management isn’t working. (Protip: if you encourage me to add something to my list, I probably will.)

Am I Blue - In which Newt learns how far Hermann is willing to go to save him.

Mr. Cellophane - Post-war, they go their separate ways, but when Newt is involved in an unlikely lab accident, obviously his first thought is to go to Hermann for help.

Hanahaki - Still angst but I have entirely dropped the hanahaki premise.

Time is On My Side - I reuse the tag “Hermann Gottlieb bends all of time and space to his will for the man he loves,” whether it's applicable or not. Next chapter: Newt attempts to tell Hermann about their future; Hermann puts all his energy into solving this time travel thing because enough is enough.

Chuck Punches Hermann in the Face - He was aiming for Newt.

I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm - In which Newt owns a space heater, and Hermann does not.

Marriage of Convenience - Lars Gottlieb has a scheme, Hermann will do anything to get out of it, Newt is an agent of chaos, fake dating ensues.

The Allegations - In which Hermann is not beating them. (Note: this time the allegations are that Hermann is a robot.)

Perspective - A very nice day. :) (Lie.)

Regency - In which I decide not to let all the meticulous research I've done go to waste. Apparently I'm writing a full regency romance novel, and it will be held to Harlequin's publication standards. (For historical accuracy. I already know I'm too gay for market.)

Alternate Universe - Hermann Gottlieb bends all of time and space to his will for the man he loves. Again.

Genie in a Bottle - I'm putting Hermann through too many shenanigans. It's only because he's my favorite.

Straight to Voicemail - An urban fantasy AU. Possibly horror. We'll see.

Spacewalk - In which the Shatterdome is a deep space colony ship, and I pay homage to my favorite sci fi author.

Search Party - Post-precursors recovery fic, in which Newt relearns that he is the good man Hermann says he is.

Hospital Whump (Take Two) - In which I will NOT get sidetracked by feels, and they WILL end up in the hospital, and there will be both hurt and comfort.

Hermann Holds a Baby - Too dark, might delete.

Blue Christmas - Because I love working on things that wouldn't make sense to post yet.

Dragonslayer - High fantasy AU. Obvious premise, but what the hell, dragons are cool. (First section is almost complete!)

I'm the One You're Looking For - This Fallout fusion is going to be an epic multichapter adventure story after all. Next chapter: Newt sees the stars for the first time.

Apocalypse - Their disaster of a first meeting is the worst day of Newt's life. Partly because their attempt to storm away from each other is interrupted by a zombie outbreak. Now Newt is stuck with the guy who hates him, and they're barely one step ahead of the hordes of the walking dead hungering for human flesh. It's so unfair. (Originally a concept for the Halloween zine, but the wordcount got away from me.)

First Contact, Cynical Edition - Am I filling eleven year old prompts from a dead kinkmeme? Maybe! Newt and Hermann's first meeting takes place at Area 51. Sort of X-Files vibes, among other things.

Rock! - More post-Uprising angst. Not everyone is willing to believe that Newt is not responsible for the precursors' actions, no matter what Hermann says.

Halloween - No kaiju au, originally intended for the Halloween zine. Hermann agrees to babysit Mako and Jake over the weekend when their father is called out of town. Since Halloween is coming up, they watch a scary movie together, only to be interrupted by the creepy upstairs neighbor. (Despite the title, has nothing to do with the films of John Carpenter. I was thinking more like Ringu.)

Cabin - Another no kaiju au originally intended for the Halloween zine. As their relationship starts to get serious, Newt and Hermann go away for a romantic weekend in a cabin in the woods. Nothing bad ever happens at an isolated cabin in the woods.

I Already Forgot - Years after the war, two old friends have a drink together and reminisce.

Phantom - My actual fic for the Halloween zine. :)

(Honorable mention: Drift Swap fic. Talk about this someday.)

[kr9vorebeazt]

First time making incorrect quotes a.k.a. just a shitpost quotes

This one is based from this vid go watch it

Lawan: What?!

Hakon: I'm pregnant!

Lawan: You're not pregnant!

Aiden: Wait, who's pregnant?

Hakon: Me!

Aiden: Congratulations!

Lawan: *sighs* He's not pregnant he just picked the used test pack. Give me that

Hakon: Easy Lawan, I'm with child

Lawan: You're not with child..

Aiden: I'm gonna be an uncle!

Lawan: YOU'RE NOT GONNA BE AN UNCLE!!!

Aiden: Then who's gonna teach a little guy how to beat infecteds ass?

Lawan: *Inhales, exhales.. tryin to be patient* Okay, you go in there and keep an eye of Frank and other members

Aiden: You know that's not really that well-

Lawan: JUST KEEP AN EYE OF THEM!! *grabs Hakon's arm to other place* YOU COME WITH ME!!

-In the other room..-

Lawan: Calm down Hakon, you're not pregnant

Hakon: Then why am I so moody and nauseous?! I think it's the morning sickness..

Lawan: Hakon, you're a man..

Hakon: ... You're right, I'm a man. It's scientifically impossible.

Also Hakon: Awch!

Lawan: What?

Hakon: I think it just kicked-

Lawan: YOU'RE NOT PREGNANT!!

[ultravioart]

Okay so. Overwatch official social media accounts are posting content that is implying things???????? God I hate this shit Zenyatta is a comfort character of mine and it's really depressing seeing all this infighting and creepy content surrounding his lore bc devs can't be damned to properly explain themselves!!!! Like jfc, they have NO REASON to hide Zen and Ram's true dynamic! SO far in canonical lore (not twitter shitposts) it's been coded as monastic brotherhood at minimum, or monastic brotherhood + found family siblings with basic interpretation, So what's the deal???? From what I am seeing there are three options for what their dynamic actually is and what OW PR is doing:

FYI: in my opinion, thus far for what OW lore has given in canon, Ram and Zen are likely found family siblings and monastic brothers. That is how I interpret them in all my aus too, personally. Option A) They are found family siblings. Official OW accounts are shipping two found family siblings which YIKES (This would be like shipping Genji and Kiriko, who are not bio related but are found family members.) it's a bad time all around, i guess starwatch really is taking that starwars inspo to the extremes, RIP. PS: YES I am aware monastic dynamics means the Shambali call everyone brother/sister/etc, that is NOT what I am referring to. The words that the devs used when introducing Ramattra in the live reveal implied sib dynamics + monastic brother dynamics between Zen and Ram. OR Option B) They were involved/partners. Omnic monks = aro/ace or ace coded (Robots are not organic, therefore would not have the same desires humans might experience). OW botched the reveal and is blatently aphobic by equating aro/ace partnerships to siblings with the "as close as brothers" line to describe how close they got. I hate that aphobic stereotype with a passion. A found family sibling is not just a 'friend' and FFS ^^^THOSE TWO DYNAMICS are NOT the same as aro/ace partnerships!!! At all!!!!!! It's incredibly insulting to say those partnerships are "inherently just friends lol" or "basically just sis and bro" or whatever the hell. IF these characters were meant to be an item, OW fucked up tremendously in how they revealed it. Let's announce aphobia on pride month??? OR Option C) They were never involved/partners. OW PR is baiting content (on pride month no less) to reel in shippers for social media interactions and advertisements for OW bc $$$ and "uwu technically!!! robots aren't related sweaty!!" strawmans as if found family tropes don't exist, and blah blah blah, bs allo-centricisms of: "our canon found family MUST equal romance! There is no such thing as found family: siblings or niece or uncle or grandparent, etc" nonsense. Ultimately, this baited ship is ooc and not canon, making it a hellscape for the fandom to interact with Ramattra or Zenyatta content bc of the infighting, all bc OW devs/PR can't be clear on what is and what is not canon dynamics for Ram and Zen. Man I hate it here. Zenyatta canon lore better not be soiled because of OW PR/dev/writer bs, Zenyatta deserves good lore. So does Ramattra! This stupid limbo of "are they or aren't they" shouldn't exist in the first place!!!!! OW should have been crystal clear about them, especially with Ram, considering Ram is key to OW2 lore as the Leader of NullSector.