#would he mean it unironically or ironically is only known to himself

[bugwolfsstuff]

Take this low quality shitpost of Randolph and Magnus that definitely is canon

(Rany doesnt deserve color)

(deffo not because i forgot what he looked like and got lazy)

[monstermaster13]

Trapped in the Meme Zone.

Internet memes and Youtube poops can provide viewers with hours of entertainment, whether it be in an ironic or unironic sense there is always some enjoyment we can get out of them, even if it’s enjoyment in a different kind of way. But sometimes it is more like an obsession, an obsession that compels us to watch more and more, controlling us and making us enjoy something we wouldn’t normally enjoy.

That obsession leads to that obsession becoming one’s entire personality fully and that obsession leads to a permanent visit in a place that is not of this earth, a place where reality works differently, where anything and anyone can change into something else with no explanation, a place where people can just be as crazy as they want, a place known as the Meme Zone.

Meet Collin Northur, Collin was a gamer and lover of memetic characters who had a peculiar taste in characters, he had fantasies of becoming bigger in the sense of gaining weight but he was by no means a horrible person. One day he was on Youtube watching YTP videos of the 90’s Sonic cartoon ‘The Adventures of Sonic The Hedgehog’ and he was laughing at how funny Robotnik was.

He couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be that character as he typed…’God, I wish that was me’ very much like that Deviantart comment meme, his comment was answered by a force that he had not heard of. ‘Your wish shall be granted.’ ‘Oh but I was not seriously wishing that, okay I may have a thing for Robotnik but not like that.’

The unseen force intoned…’Your wish shall be granted anyway, enjoy your lifetime curse.’ ‘Lifetime curse?’ he inquired. But before he could think about what that meant, something happened which caused him to suddenly blurt out lines from the YTP poop (but the Youtube poop talk did not take over his ability to speak) as he slowly found himself aging as his skin matured and he slowly gained weight.

His clothing slowly morphed into those of the character as hair fell off the top of his head, the remaining hairs turning red as a mustache blossomed outward above his lip as his face slowly morphed and took on the appearance of the character, his friend Eben looked at him and panicked, trying to help him only to find himself also falling victim to the ‘curse’ as he slowly turned into Morshu,and both of their voices shifted to go with their appearances.

The screen on his computer flashed on and off before a vortex materialized in the middle of it which pulled them both in. Both of them tried to escape only to end up being sucked in, transporting them into a strange place that was different than their own homes. ‘Where are we?’ Collin asked as he saw likes/dislikes pop up on the screen as hearing the sound of people laughing. ‘Boys, you’re both in your very own YTP.’ ‘You mean?’ ‘Yes, you are both stuck in a YTP. ‘

‘But how are we stuck here?’ ‘Well everytime someone posts an I wish that was me comment in a video of a character they have a thing for they get transformed into the character as the result of the curse.’ ‘And what about me?’ Eben responded. ‘Oh, his curse affected you as well because you were watching Morshu meme videos.’ ‘So is there a way to revert this?’ ‘No, sorry. But you boys both belong here now.’

‘We’re stuck in a YTP?’ ‘Yes…welcome to your own new home.’ The two transformed friends bashed against what was supposedly an invisible forcefield only for it to be a screen as a floating hand materialized and clicked on an also invisible play button on the screen, causing the two of them to fall over and do the same thing over and over.

‘Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!’ The two transformed friends screamed as the hand clicked on the play button multiple-times before switching to another video, over in a computer lab, the being that granted Collin his wish smiled and laughed to himself.

‘Oh how I do love these bad wish end YTP videos in which they are aware they’re stuck in a video! They make me laugh so much!’ He clicked on another video of two transformed victims and laughed at their suffering and this is where our chilling story ends.

Whenever you horny-post online remember to be very careful when you do it, especially if you have a taste for certain body types or types of characters, and be careful not to ‘wish’ that it was you because it very well happen to you, and the next character you horny post about could very much be the one you are stuck as forever, which is a lesson Collin now definitely has learned for himself, as he is now stuck in that dimension where anyone or anything can turn into something else with no explanation, where weird things happen and where internet comments are viewed and responded to by one being, a being that is a demon who can grant wishes so the next time you make a ‘I wish that was me’ comment, you might find yourself in that situation.

Now Collin and his friend are now forever stuck in this dimension where weird things happen regularly, at the mercy of the demon who is on the computer in a computer lab in a faculty of this dimension that is simply known as the Meme Zone.

[cinnamonest]

Extremely important modern AU information:

Jokes about No Nut November, once casually tried but caved on November 8th, 12th, and 15th respectively (no he's not weak it's just not worth it!! What's the point? It's not healthy to go that long without it!), the only individuals here who attempt it in a sane manner really: Gorou, Bennett, Thoma

"Haha yeah I've heard of that haha" (Would literally rather die): Kaeya

Claims to have done it. Did not actually do it. Came every single day even: Venti

Stick in the mud, straight faced as he says that is the stupidest thing he has heard in his entire life, probably jerks off on the spot out of spite: Diluc, Cyno

Also says that is the stupidest thing he has heard in his entire life, secretly curious as to whether or not he could do it... casually decides to attempt. Makes it about halfway through the month. Somewhat disappointed with himself.: Tighnari

Decided to do it to test himself, takes it very seriously, manages to persevere due to 1) being already well-versed in self control and 2) avoiding potential mania triggers like the plague: Chongyun

Decided to do it to test himself, takes it very seriously, manages to persevere solely by focusing on the promise of Destroy Dick December: Heizou

Decided to do it to test himself, takes it very seriously, caves on November 3rd because a leftover Halloween decoration he passed by walking home depicted a witch with massive tiddies, wallows in disappointment face-down on his bed for an hour: Kazuha

Thinks it would be easy so he actually commits, more as a joke than anything. Quickly realizes it is in fact not easy. Bothered because??? Is he really this weak?? No, he's just psyching himself out. He can do it. Easily.... Caves on November 20th and 25th respectively. Very disappointed. At least he tried.: Xingqiu, Ayato

Has never heard of No Nut November before, sees it once online, Googles it and gets the urban dictionary definition, still has to ask someone to understand, very confused, 'is this really what the youths are doing these days' etc, would never even consider it: Zhongli

Takes it as seriously as a matter of life or death. Hypes up a week beforehand. Unironically posts about it. Does it as a joint effort with the Bros™ who act as an accountability check for each other. They overdramatize every moment like they're enduring the worst pain ever known to man. Works out as a means of distracting himself. Unironically gets a phone call at 3 am from a fellow bro claiming he's facing temptations and stays up for several hours pep talking the guy through it as if he's trying to convince him not to commit a crime. Actually manages to do it. They have a group celebration as if they just went through some major life accomplishment. Cums enough on Dec 1st to fill a mason jar: Itto

"See, technically, it only applies to masturbatory orgasms. Intercourse-induced orgasms are not included in the prohibition. Therefore -- no I'm not in a relationship, but this is hypothetical -- therefore, they don't count as -- oh that thudding sound? Ignore that, that's a dog and definitely not a live human person in my basement -- anyway, it doesn't count as--": Albedo

Has already subscribed to his egirl's "Nonstop Nut November" private video Onlyfans collection, tells himself it can't go to waste: Xiao

Makes a big deal out of No Nut November. Posts about it several days beforehand. Posts are half ironic and half unironic because he genuinely attempts it. Gets himself psyched up for it. Cums like seven times on October 31st. Mutes all nsfw accounts across various socials. Hides the lotion and tissues. Curates all consumed media to avoid any semblance of ass and tiddies. Unironically prays for strength. Acts like he's going through the worst pain known to man. Fails November 2nd 1:47 p.m.: Childe

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Pushed Around

Prompt: i looooooove you protective knights Merlin drabbles from over quarantine, the frantic energy of these large children fretting over Merlin is hilarious and so precious (': would you ever write your take on the classic "a visiting knight/noble is a dickwad to Merlin but he doesn't tell anyone bc of either worries of diplomacy or something else and then when Arthur and the knights do find out they have to have a serious chat w Merlin about his priorities and self-worth?" bc,,, it would be awesome

Thanks for the req! I do love this trope...

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, but can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Warnings: uhhh nobles can be dicks

Word Count: 3372

The problem with Merlin is that he doesn’t say nearly enough for all the talking he does. Honestly, the man can ramble on for hours and hours without being interrupted and never say one word about himself. He’s spoken about how Arthur sits wrong for longer than a council meeting for goodness’ sake. And yet in all that time, he’s never said a single thing about himself.

 It would be impressive if it didn’t get them into nearly so many stressful situations that could’ve been avoided had he asked for help.

In fairness to Merlin, servants asking for help from anyone other than fellow servants isn’t exactly normal. In unfairness to Merlin, when has ‘normal’ ever been very high on his list of things to strive for?

 They’ve all gotten fairly used to it. Merlin will be doing something and one of them will notice that perhaps there’s a…better way to do that. Or perhaps he’s doing it with a little less skill or proficiency than he normally does and gods, Merlin, how long have you been hurt for? Merlin will shrug and smile sheepishly at them and say that it’s nothing to worry about. Only Gaius seems to be immune to that, raising the Eyebrow of Disappointment and Merlin will bow his head and let him tend to whatever he’s done to himself this time. The problem is Merlin seems to know this and does all he can to avoid doing these things in front of Gaius. Which leaves the rest of them to struggle frantically to keep track of Merlin while he’s frantically keeping track of them.

 But they’ve gotten used to it.

 Arthur is allowed to be an absolute prat—Merlin’s words, not his—in the mornings, insisting Merlin do all sorts of ridiculously elaborate chores to assess whether he’s hurt himself, whether something’s wrong, or whether he’s done something to upset Merlin more than tossing the occasional boot at him. If Merlin doesn’t snipe back or calls him ‘sire’ unironically, something is definitely wrong and everything is on pause until they fix it. No exceptions.

 Leon, as the closest thing to Arthur’s right hand aside from Merlin, takes every opportunity to stand next to him, regardless of how proper it is. Leon may not be immune to Merlin’s impish little excuses, but Merlin is not immune to the protective-older-sibling looks Leon gives him or the gentle way Leon arranges his cape so that Merlin looks even more inconspicuous behind the copious amounts of red fabric. Leon never says a word, and Merlin would never admit it, but there are times when, if you looked at them from behind, you would see Merlin reach out to clutch Leon’s cape and Leon reach to hold his hand.

 Percival is not a small man. Anyone standing opposite him better think very carefully about whatever they’re about to fight over. Odds are it won’t be worth it. Often all he has to do is stand up and they’re babbling apologies or excuses. Merlin, on the other hand, is a slight man who looks as if he’s always about two seconds from tripping over his own feet. Percival makes sure to stand in front of him.

 Elyan has a way with words. Not that he’s the most loquacious speaker, nor the most forceful, but he’s got a voice that makes people listen. It’s not Arthur’s authority, nor it is Uther’s unmistakable iron, but it is a quiet power. Oftentimes, people don’t seem to respect Merlin. Some go so far as to refuse to remember his name. Elyan’s never had a problem making them see reason.

 Gwaine is not known for being discreet, nor is he especially reserved in demonstrating that he’s here for Merlin, not for Camelot, not for Arthur, but for Merlin. Sometimes Merlin just needs a little reminder that he’s worth fighting for, and not just because he’s fighting for something bigger than himself.

 Lancelot is the only one that can actually get Merlin to talk, reliably. The man can see through Merlin’s nonsense in a way that rivals Gaius. Unlike Gaius, Merlin won’t fight him on it. It’s difficult to get Lancelot to tell the rest of them, despite what he’ll have you believe. But if Merlin looks a little happier afterward, then it’s all fine.

 So yeah, they’ve gotten used to it. What they haven’t gotten used to are the people that go out of their way to make life for Merlin harder.

 “There’s another tournament?” Merlin huffs as he throws the blanket over Arthur’s bed. “Didn’t you just have one?”

 “That was a joust. This is a melee.”

 “You’re all throwing yourselves at each other with various pieces of metal,” Merlin remarks dryly, “what’s the difference?”

 Arthur rolls his eyes as he gets up, glancing out the window to see the approaching knights. There aren’t nearly as many as the last tournament, thank goodness, but that does mean that this one won’t be nearly as easily decided.

 “As long as I’m not cleaning up after all of you this time…”

 Arthur frowns, looking back at Merlin straightening the bed covers. “What do you mean?”

 “Last time. I was working non-stop. Had another knight almost as demanding as you are.”

 “I’m allowed to be demanding,” Arthur says, “you’re my servant.”

 “Mhmm, sure.”

 “No one else is.”

 “You tell them that, sire.”

 “I will. Who was it?”

 Merlin shrugs. “Don’t really remember his name.”

 Arthur sighs, walking forward and resting his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Yes, you do. That’s what you say when you don’t want to tell me someone’s name.”

 “You don’t know that.”

 “I do,” Arthur says softly, turning Merlin to face him, “so you can tell me.”

 “That’s not how it works.”

 “Sure it is.”

 “No, it really isn’t.”

 “Merlin,” Arthur huffs, “if something is wrong, you know you can tell me.”

 “But nothing’s wrong!” Arthur just gives him a look until he sighs, picking up the laundry basket. “Alright, fine, his name was Tobias, are you happy now?”

 “Yes, I am, thank you.” Arthur gives his shoulder another pat before moving away. “The next time he’s here, I’ll make sure you’re nowhere near him.”

 As it turns out, that doesn’t go as planned. Because Sir Tobias didn’t just sign up for the joust, he’s here for the melee too.

 “Arthur Pendragon,” the man roars, clapping Arthur firmly on the shoulder, “thought you’d seen the last of me, eh?”

“Thought that bruised backside you got from falling off your horse would’ve kept you away.”

 Tobias throws his head back and laughs. “You’ve got spirit about you, lad. It’ll serve you well if you can hold your nerve.”

 “My nerve has never failed me before,” Arthur replies cooly, gesturing up the stairs, “though I’m sure you know that by now.”

 “We’ll see come the melee.”

 Merlin is out of sight, helping the stablehands tend to the horses. As Arthur walks up the stairs, he sees Tobias glance around and huff softly to himself.

 “Is there something wrong?”

 “No, no,” Tobias says quickly as they enter the hall, “just glad to see you’ve not assigned me the same servant this time.”

 Arthur straightens. “Excuse me?”

 “The gangly boy that tended to my chambers last time,” Tobias says, waving his hand, “right awful he was. Glad you’ve fired him.”

 “I see…”

 Arthur does not, in fact, see, but he makes a point to tell the knights not to let Tobias near Merlin.

 As it turns out, they don’t have much of a choice. Arthur needs Merlin to help him get ready, and Tobias is of high enough rank to be near the prince as he does so. Luckily for Merlin, he just has to stay inside the tent.

 Unluckily for Merlin…

 “Arthur,” Gwaine calls from outside, “they need you to come look at the shields.”

 Arthur gives Merlin’s arm a squeeze and steps away, ducking out of the tent. Gwaine leads him over to a table laden with shields, each with a different insignia painted on it. The Pendragon crest gleams in the light, next to the sigils from each of the other knights fighting. None of them has so much as a scratch.

 “Very good, sire,” the attendant says, sweeping them along to finish the final preparations. Arthur follows Gwaine up the hill to where the others are standing, Leon turning and nodding solemnly ate his approach.

 “Are all of you competing, then?” Arthur leans against the wall.

 Leon shakes his head. “Lancelot and I will be sitting this one out.”

 “Not growing weary are you, old friend?”

 “Weary of people attempting to kill you while I’m already engaged in combat,” Leon replies wryly, “and weary of Merlin being the only one able to do anything about it.”

 “They won’t listen to him when he calls for a stop to the tourney,” Lancelot adds.

 “And so you can keep anyone away from him,” Gwaine says firmly.

 “Precisely.”

 They head back down the hill, just in time to see a flutter of movement from Arthur’s tent. Gwaine frowns, rushing forward and throwing it open.

 “Merlin?”

 “I’m here,” Merlin says, getting to his feet, “just fell.”

 Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and reaches down to help him up. “At some point, Merlin, I do have to wonder.”

 “It’s fine, I just picked up something without realizing it was attached to something else.”

 “I see.”

 The rest of the knights glance at each other over Arthur’s shoulder and Elyan stalks off toward a neighboring tent. Leon bows deeply and tells Merlin that he and Lancelot will wait for the others to finish their training before coming to collect him.

 “There’s still a few more days to go,” Merlin says softly, “I don’t see why you all had to come here so early.”

 “It’s to make it fair, give the knights the chance to get used to fighting in the same place.”

 Merlin grumbles to himself as he goes about finishing up. Arthur catches him gently by the elbow as he turns to leave.

 “Are you alright? Really?”

 “Arthur, I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 Arthur sighs. “I would really like for one of these to go off normally for once.”

 Arthur does not, in fact, get what he wants.

 Not that anyone is particularly surprised that there’s a knight who managed to sneak a poisoned weapon into the training grounds, but someone clips Arthur through his armor and he winces, immediately aware that something’s wrong. Merlin spots it a mile away, because of course he does. The knight is quickly escorted away and Arthur shakes his head, calling for a search of all the knights’ belongings and weapons.

 “You’d think we’d get better about this,” Lancelot mutters as he and Merlin approach, Merlin rubbing his shoulder, “and that they’d stop trying.”

 “At least we caught it before the actual melee.”

 “Merlin, there you are,” Gwaine says, pulling Merlin to his side, “good. Now, you and I are going to have a talk.”

 “About what?” Arthur looks around. “What’s going on?”

 Lancelot just mouths that they’ll be back as Gwaine sweeps them both along the corridor. Arthur brushes it to the back of his mind. That’s not the first time they’ve done something like this.

 It’s the night before the melee. Merlin is late. Arthur paces up and down the length of his quarters. The knights have all vanished hours ago. Merlin is late.

 A knock.

 “Enter.”

 Leon sweeps inside, a stony look on his face. He glances around the quarters and bites back a curse. “Merlin’s not here, is he?”

 “No,” Arthur says, his blood beginning to run cold, “no, he isn’t. Where is he?”

“Gwaine and Lancelot are already looking,” Leon says, shutting the door, “but…sire, may I ask a question?”

 “Always,” Arthur says immediately, “you don’t need to ask.”

 “How long has Tobias been…allowed near Merlin?”

 “He hasn’t,” Arthur growls, hustling down the corridor, “but what has he done?”

 “He was more brazen during the joust.” Leon shoulders a door open. “But now—“

 “Merlin!”

 Arthur rushes forward as Merlin turns the corner. Startled, Merlin barely has time to turn all the way before Arthur’s wrapping him up in a protective arm and turning him back toward the safety of Arthur’s chambers.

 “Where were you?”

 “I was, um…”

 Arthur bites back a curse and hurries faster, Leon hot on their heels. Along the way, they come across Elyan and Percival, coming up from the armory.

 “Arthur, we need to—“ Elyan breaks off when he sees Merlin in Arthur’s arms. “Merlin?”

 “My chambers,” Arthur growls, “now.”

 “What about Gwaine and Lancelot?”

 “They’ll find us.”

 “Guys, whatever this is, it’s fine,” Merlin tries but Arthur simply opens the door to his quarters and sits Merlin down. “Really!”

 “Merlin,” Leon says quietly, “where were you just now?”

 Merlin glances at Arthur. Then back to Leon. “Helping Amelia.”

 “And who were you helping Amelia help?”

 Another glance at Arthur. Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

 “Merlin,” he says slowly, “I need you to answer me honestly, please.”

 Merlin nods, evidently a little taken aback at how soft Arthur’s voice is.

 “Were you helping Amelia because she asked for your help, or were you helping her so Tobias would get angry with you instead of her?”

 The silence that fills the room is more than enough of an answer.

 “I’m going to kill him,” Gwaine announces, kicking open the door, “now where’s—there you are.”

 “Gwaine, I—ah!”

 “Don’t break him,” Lancelot chides gently as Gwaine sweeps Merlin into a hug, “he’s probably still hurt.”

 “Hurt?” Arthur looks from Lancelot to Merlin. “Merlin—“

 “It’s fine.”

 “Can you allow us to be the judge of that,” Leon asks, settling a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder and moving him away, “please?”

 “It’s just a few bruises, he doesn’t even hit that hard.”

 “Not exactly helping your case here,” Gwaine snarls, stalking toward Arthur.

 “Merlin.”

 “…why’re you guys so upset?”

 Arthur winces. Merlin looks back and forth between them.

 “No…really, I don’t—I don’t understand. You lot hit me.”

 “Not like that!”

 “It’s fine, I don’t—“

 “This isn’t fine, Merlin, you’re being hurt.”

 “So?”

 The room falls silent. Leon draws back as if Merlin reached out to smack him across the face. Percival bows his head as Elyan bites back a curse. Lancelot stares at Merlin like he’s grown a second head. Gwaine looks at Arthur.

 Arthur’s chest clenches so painfully he fears he’s going to have to send for Gaius. Merlin…Merlin doesn’t believe that he’s worth worrying about when he’s hurt? Merlin doesn’t care that he’s getting hurt? Merlin is letting someone hurt him?

 “Merlin…”

 “What?” He looks around at all of them in confusion. “What it is? Why do you all look so…so…”

 “Upset?” Leon tilts his head. “Because you just told us you don’t think you’re important.”

 “But…this isn’t that big of a deal. It happens all the time. Why is this time any different.”

 “How often,” Lancelot says, “would you say this happens then?”

 “Every time there’s a tournament.”

 “Every tournament,” Leon repeats quietly, “there is a knight that does this?”

 “Sometimes more than one.”

 “And you…let them?”

 “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

 No.

 No, no, no, this isn’t right.

 This isn’t right.

 Merlin is the man who waltzed right up to Arthur on his first day in Camelot and told him to stop being a prat.

 Merlin is the man who spat in Uther’s face as often as he could.

 Merlin is the man who demanded that everyone is treated as a person, be they servant or noble or royal.

 This is wrong.

 “Merlin,” Arthur manages, “Merlin, of course you have a choice.”

 “If I don’t do it, they’ll hurt someone else. And I’m used to it.”

 “But you never should’ve gotten used to it,” Arthur cries, rushing forward and grabbing Merlin’s shoulders, “damnit, Merlin, why don’t you protect yourself?”

 “I’m fine, Arthur.”

 “You’re letting yourself get pushed around and beaten by someone, you’re not fine.”

 “I have to put up with you, don’t I?”

 Arthur burns.

 Something in his chest squeezes so tight it breaks. He takes his hands off of Merlin like he’s been stung, backing up until he hits the poster of his bed. His mouth is open in shock and he can scarcely draw breath.

 Merlin thinks…Merlin…did he do this to Merlin?

 “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” Merlin is saying far, far away, “it’s not like I’m not…why’re you all looking at me like that?”

 No, no, Merlin is Arthur’s Merlin, he—he’d never hurt his Merlin, he’d never—no, he hasn’t—but—Merlin—

 “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

 This is Arthur’s fault. This is Arthur’s fault, isn’t it, he’s messed this up, he’s messed Merlin up, he’s ruined it—he’s ruined everything.

 “Sire,” comes Leon’s—is that Leon’s?—voice from somewhere to his left, “you have to breathe, come on…”

 Arthur gasps, the air burning the inside of his throat. He does it again, frantically blinking to clear his eyes. Tears stream down his cheeks—so he did start crying—as the image of Lancelot and Gwaine talking to Merlin swims into view in front of him. Merlin’s brow is furrowed and he keeps shooting concerned looks Arthur’s way.

 “I never meant—“ Arthur swallows— “I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t—I never meant any of them, I—“

 “Shh, sire,” Leon murmurs, “we know. Nothing is simple right now.”

 “But that’s not what Arthur does,” Merlin protests, “he—is that why you guys are so worried?”

 Merlin turns and flies at Arthur, hands immediately coming up to cup his cheeks and numb away his tears, muttering all the while.

 “That’s not what I meant, Arthur,” he babbles, “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—you’re not like them, I just—that’s what I’m used to, I didn’t know that there was a difference—“

 “I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” Arthur says, gripping Merlin’s arms tightly, “I just—you must believe me—“

 “I do, I do—“ now Merlin’s crying too— “I just—“

 “Alright, you two,” Leon hushes, gently laying a hand on both of their shoulders, “let’s have you two sit before you fall over.”

 The knight guides them both to the bed, sitting them on the edge. They’re no help; they’re too busy crying and clinging onto each other.

 “Now, why don’t you two have a chat, and we’ll be outside.” Leon ruffles their hair affectionately and sweeps the others out into the corridor despite Gwaine’s protests.

 Arthur swallows. “I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” he mumbles, “nor do I believe that you’re—a fool or an idiot or stupid or anything.”

 He clutches Merlin tightly. “You’re important to me.”

 Merlin nods. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you lot, it’s just…that was how the older boys in Ealdor treated me. I got used to it. And it always made sense.”

 Arthur shakes his head furiously. “It doesn’t make sense, Merlin. They were hurting you. People are hurting you. That’s not alright. That’s awful. And I’m going to stop it.”

 “You can’t just fight all the nobles who don’t like me.”

 “Watch me.”

 “Your father will—“

 “To hell with that,” Arthur snarls, “they’re hurting you. And I won’t stand for it.”

 Merlin sighs, slumping forward. Without a thought, Arthur catches him, pulling him closer and tucking his head over Merlin’s.

 “…you really would fight them for me?”

 “Yes, Merlin. I would. And I will.”

 He feels Merlin grin against his shoulder. “You’re going to make Tobias never come back to Camelot, aren’t you?”

 “Perhaps.”

[dontcallmecarrie]

A Life No One Could Touch

Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Ferris Bueller’s antics onscreen, before casting a glance towards Ava and Ivan.

Ivan, who was scowling and oh, of course.

“Am I supposed to be cheering on the spoiled brat? What kind of movie is this?”

Right. Of course the guy who grew up during the fall of the Soviet Union wouldn’t be able to relate, but...

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you.” Tony said quietly, and if he hadn’t known Ivan as well as he had, he’d have never caught the tiniest quirk at the corner of his mouth.

Then Ava laughed, and Tony was abruptly reminded that he was the only one in the room who had anything remotely like a normal childhood as she asked, “Is high school really like that?”

“Oh, no.” He snorted. “That’s all Hollywood right there, actual high school’s all asbestos and the football team getting all the funding even if the band kids are one bake sale away from a riot.”

“Really?” Ivan raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

Even if he remembered those days with fondness, it wasn’t because of...because of that. 

Tony missed the idyllic quiet, missed the way old man Richardson down the road unironically told the kids to stay off his lawn away from his prize-winning azaleas, even missed the neighbors’ yappy little dog that never failed to let him know when the morning paper arrived. 

He missed the days when he’d wake up to his mom grabbing lunch on her way out the door to work, when his uncle cycled through names and hobbies trying to find something that fit and he himself tinkered with any electronic device he could get his hands on just to see if he could. 

What he didn’t miss was high school. 

And last thing he wanted was for either Ava or Ivan to feel like they were missing out.

“Guys, I was a robotics club nerd in the middle of Nowheresville. Take it from me, high school’s not all it’s hyped up to be.”

.

Tony was clearing out some of his old things when he noticed the old missing person’s flyer.

He snorted, then started to search for a potential lighter. 

But even as it became ash, part of him couldn’t help but wonder...just how different would he have been, under other circumstances?

It wasn’t a new thought exercise, by any means.

But it wasn’t one he normally entertained for more than a handful of seconds at most.

He tried to imagine it: life in an empty mansion, with private tutors and boarding schools and vacations and all the trappings that came with being part of the 1%. 

...try as he might, Tony couldn’t. 

Even though he’d helped walk Ivan through some of the particulars of New York high society with his mom, even though he’d worked on some of the briefings of what was expected of the CEO of one of the fastest-growing companies in the country, Tony just couldn’t picture himself in his friend’s shoes.

Which was ironic on a number of levels, probably, but honestly?

Tony didn’t care. He was happy with the way things were right now, with everyone he cared about safe and sound.

[stefciastark]

Scars ~ Webpril Day 6

A/N: Here is the final part to the "The Mines" mini story arc :) I hope you enjoy this little chapter of IronDad fluff. It's definitely a topic I want to expand more on with IronDad, and I definitely didn't address it enough in this fic (it's nearing 2a.m so I had to wrap it up somewhere) BUT if it's something you'd like to see, just let me know and it may just become its own fic :)Thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments and kudos as well. It's my first proper return to the world of fanfiction and your support and feedback means the world, so thank you!! xx

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

This was the second time in…too soon, that Peter had to make a return to the realm of the ‘awake’. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to. There was an intense throbbing behind his eyes that pounded to the percussive beat of Pomp & Circumstance; it was a tune that he had been forced to sit through every year since he was a freshman as they gathered in assembly to wave the upperclassmen goodbye as they left for the real world. He decided that if he survived until his own graduation, he would petition for a drastic change of the ceremony music. ‘I Lived’ by OneRepublic seemed kind of appropriate.

He couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped his lips as the throbbing in his head shifted from the right to the left as he turned his head to the side. He felt smooth satin beneath his cheeks, a pleasant contrast to the rough gravel and dust that greeted him last time.

Sleep tugged at his consciousness, beckoning him away from a world that had so far greeted him with pain and uncertainty. Just his luck though that a pair of fingers began to snap repeatedly in front of his closed eyes.

“No, none of that ‘going back to sleep’ stuff, kid. Time to get up.”

Peter waved his hand in front of his face, trying to shoo away whomever dared invade his personal bubble. “G’way…”

“Ouch…Is that how you thank me for saving your life?”

Peter’s eyes finally cracked open, ready to give his speaker the biggest verbal whooping he could muster – which Peter faced it, he wasn’t going to sound particularly convincing either way. It was then that his mind finally caught up with what his eyes were seeing; Tony was sitting on the occasional chair to the right of the bed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands locked together. His knuckles were white, and that tension bled into the expression on his face. Dark circles that looked like bruises shaded the underneath of his eyes, frown lines gently creasing his forehead.

Now that he had a moment to register the rest of his surroundings, he noted with relief that he wasn’t laying in a hospital bed, and there was no accompanying beep of the monitors that usually accompanied infirmary-esque surroundings. In the end, it was Peter’s view of the half-open sliding closet door that told him his answer; he was in his personal bedroom at the Avengers facility. A T-shirt Ned bought him for his last birthday that he’d been looking for for weeks hung at the front. It was the one with a pun that first made him cringe, but eventually grew on him until it inexplicably and unironically became one of his favourites. It had a large picture of a Spiderman mask, surrounded by text that said: “What does Spiderman do for a living? He’s a web designer!”

Thinking of Ned, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something…

Tony saw the second Peter’s eyes widened in panic, and he quickly leaped off the chair to press Peter back down onto the bed as he tried weakly to get up. The pain in Peter’s right ankle that had gone unnoticed until that moment flared up, eliciting a small cry that was a mixture of pain and surprise.  

“W-where’s Ned, is he okay? He was with me in the – in the mine and he wasn’t waking up and -” Peter’s chest rose and fell rapidly, panic flooding his senses, the weight of Tony’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to ground him, only making him feel claustrophobic as the memories of being stuck under rubble bubbled to the surface.

Tony immediately retracted his hand from Peter’s shoulder. He knew when Peter needed to be left to himself. As much as he wished he could hug the kid’s troubles away, the aftermath of Vulture left Peter with psychological scars. No amount of comfort, exciting new tech projects or keeping busy would undo what had happened, and it was something that Peter needed to confront on his own time and in his own way. Of course, Tony would be there. He would always be there.

“Ned’s okay, just a moderate concussion, some bruises and understandably a little freaked out.” Peter visibly relaxed at the update, glad to at least hear that his best friend wasn’t lying in a hospital bed somewhere, fighting for life. “You know, you’re lucky you’re the same type of super-freak like Rogers.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t he like,” Peter imitated a needle going into his arm and finished with a ‘fshhhhh’ as the imaginary needle plunger was suppressed.

“No, no, I mean he’s an entirely -” Tony stopped himself, dragging his hand across his face, not quite sure how to go on without trailing Cap in the mud. He didn’t particularly want to open that can of worms. Contrary to public opinion, he was trying to play nice. “Look, I’m tired, and that’s not what I meant,” he sighed. “I just mean you got very lucky, kid. Being strong and being able to heal like that is what saved your ass.”

“I’m pretty sure you saved my ass.” Peter’s breathing had slowed down, and he had sunk back into the mattress, eyes no longer looking like he was a deer stuck in the headlights. Tony mentally sighed with relief - crisis averted.

“First of all, I know, I was just being polite. Secondly hey, watch your language. I’m the adult, I get to use those words.” He raised a mocking eyebrow in response to Peter’s expression of light-hearted indignation. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not the one who makes the rules. I don’t want your aunt coming after me after you go home sounding like ‘The Dude’ Lebowski.”

They both entered an unspoken staring contest that was soon lost by both parties as Peter couldn’t refrain from sniggering after no more than five seconds, and Tony broke into a smile not long after. 

Peter’s expression turned serious once more. “Wait, how long have I been here? Does May know? Crap, I should text her, she probably thinks I’m dead, she’s going to freak.” 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y took care of that when you got here,” Tony looked down to check his watch, “nine hours ago.” 

A pregnant silence fell on the room. Peter’s eyes were cast down, staring studiously at the various scrapes and cuts along his arms; his souvenirs from Sterling Hill. Tony could see the gears turning in Peter’s head, and he wasn’t surprised in the least when Peter posed him a question.

“I know I can’t scar because of...y’know,” he swallowed, fingers clenching and unclenching the sheets as he refused to look at Tony. His voice was small when he asked, “But what do you do about the scars you can’t see?” 

Tony paused for a moment before responding. He’d known this question was coming for some time, yet he didn’t really have a response. “I still have nightmares about New York.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Point is, at the end of the day, I try not to let things I can’t control get to me. You did all you could, kid, don’t kick yourself for it.” 

Tony wanted to say more than his little anecdote but couldn’t quite find the words. Years of ‘tough love’ at the hands of his father didn’t exactly give him an ideal arsenal to deal with the sensitive nature of the topic, and the last thing he wanted to do was give Peter the same ‘Stark men are made of iron” ‘golden’ advice he got from Howard as a boy. He felt like an elephant in a porcelain shop, and he was afraid that one day Peter would break.

As Tony rummaged through the manila folders in his brain for the right thing to say, Peter yawned. “Thanks Mr Stark,” his body and mind still in recovery mode after the previous day’s events. 

“Get some rest, Spiderman. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” He ruffled Peter’s hair and turned to leave, the kid already snoring quietly seconds after his head hit the pillow. 

Tony returned to his lab; he had some important unfinished business to take care of. Hours later, he had fallen asleep, head resting on his arms over his glass-top desk. The monitor above him glowed faintly in the darkness, thirteen separate tabs open ranging from ‘Supporting Your Teen’s Mental Health’, to the one that was currently displayed: ‘How to Be a Good Father’.

A/N:  Ah Tony, paranoid about wanting to be the perfect father figure to Peter and not wanting to repeat his own father's mistakes. Either way, the (alluded to) topic of this concluding piece is something I want to maybe dedicate a longer fic to. I didn't really feel as if I could give it the attention and in-depth discussion that I wanted to. Unfortunately, juggling university, life, and writing these daily as they come because of the nature of the challenge (and I'm super scared of falling behind with the prompts) means that a lot of these aren't as fleshed out as I'd like them to be, and I'd love to give some of these some more love once the challenge is over. ANYWAYS, long rant aside, hope you enjoyed the small concluding piece to 'The Mines', and thank you for your continued support :) xx

[asgardianthot]

Aftercare (Steve/Bucky)

Dom/sub aftercare, angst

summary: Steve takes care of his sub, no matter how reluctant he is to it.

word count: 2996

warnings: mentions of BDSM (previous to the scenario), one unintended injury

Steve Rogers was known for many things, but kinky wasn’t one of them…

…one of the things people knew about him, that is, keeping in mind how he’d been working me with chains, spanking me and fucking the living breath out of me for the past hour.

Even though we’d both caught our breaths, I was left devastated on the bed, laying on my stomach as my bare ass was still heated red. I could have moved, probably, but taking in mind my recent submission and dedication, I believed I deserved to act as a ragdoll. So did Steve, who was already retrieving the soothing lotion and rambling about getting me some water or whatever.

“You okay?” he asked for the seventh time.

I sighed from exhaustion, given both by my sore body, and by his insistent question. No, I wasn’t perfectly fine, my back and arms were slightly hurting, my ass and butt cheeks were killing me, the marks left by the handcuffs in my flesh hand were burning, I had a small cut on my lip from biting on it that wasn’t majorly uncomfortable but I could still taste the iron in my mouth, and everything felt as if I’d ran a marathon. However, I wasn’t dying, he hadn’t done anything more than he’d done before and I had already answered to his question the other six times.

Plus, it’s what I loved more than anything. Being roughed up by Steve.

“I’ll have that water.” I mumbled, merely for him to shut up about it.

He nodded with a small smile, rushing to the bathroom to get me what I had seen myself forced to ask for. He came back with his boxer briefs on, still allowing me to stare at his sculpted body, glistening with the lingering of sweat sticking, and I thought to myself it wasn’t too much of a bad view to die looking at.

“Here.” He sat down on the bed where I propped myself on my elbow to drink from his a glass held by his hand, making myself useless.

I stared into his eyes while sipping it at first, thanking him with my gaze, then focused on gulping the water down as I was desert-like thirsty and hadn’t realized it before. Once I was finished, I fell back on my side with a loud puff of air.

“Better?” Steve’s puppy eyes smiled down at me while his hand, one that had been choking me minutes earlier, was now caressing my shoulder with extreme care.

A small grin made its way into my face although I was doing no effort to conceal my tired eyes. So I just closed them and nodded, practically getting ready to take a nap before Steve started to kiss my cheekbone over and over again, with the cutest caring pecks a grown man is able to give. I enjoyed the moment for as long as it went on, until he stopped to check the red marks on my ass.

“Looks painful.” He commented when his palm grazed the irritated skin, and I knew he was hinting the possibility of putting some lotion on it.

“It’s fine.” I groaned, then motioned behind me by tilting my head a little. “My back’s not, though.”

It was meant to be a witty comment, even if there was some truth to it. The sore feeling in my ass and cheeks wouldn’t even become bruises, and I had probably mildly bruised skin somewhere in my body, but the scratches on my back meant my flesh was exposed and therefore the feeling was a bit worse at that specific moment.

Steve hovered over me to check, immediately standing up to circle the bed and examine me from behind. “Damn, I’m sorry.” He said in a low voice, not really feeling overwhelming guilt, to be candid.

His fingertips ran through the red trails, the burning sensation immediate but bearable. The Captain ended up massaging some lotion into it, anyways, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. And good thing I didn’t try and stop him, for it truly was soothing after all. After laying a few kisses right under my nape where my hair stopped, he covered my corpse-like body with the blankets and returned to his original spot, where he sat next to me.

“You know, you’re kinda pretty.” I mumbled. “When you’re not unbearably annoying.”

Steve rolled his eyes with a smile, moving some sticking hair off of my forehead. “I just take care of you, you masochist.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You seem to love when I’m a masochist.” I said in a high tone, mocking how hypocritical he could be when it come to an activity performed by two people, and one he enjoyed so much, sometimes I forgot it was me who offered it in the first place and felt like he bribed me into it. “You just love being a pain in my ass after… well, literally being a pain in my ass.”

The blonde burst out laughing in reaction to my comment. He always was easy to embarrass, he would blush at the slightest joke or dirty comment, yet turned into something completely different when I kneeled in front of him, mouth open. I’d beg for release and he would spank me to shut me up, but sure, laugh like a toddler when I mention butt sex.

He went to kiss my wrist, lovingly caress the marks left by the cuffs, as he always did, yet this time it wasn’t as easy to move my, up until that moment, motionless limb. When he took a hold of my right wrist, the one arm I hadn’t moved merely out of instinct, the one made out of flesh and bone, the scorching pain made me hiss loudly.

“What?” Steve let go of my wrist, a terrified expression plastered on his face and wide-opened blue eyes piercing through mine, searching for answers.

I avoided his gaze, having trouble putting on a false worry-less face which ended up looking just confused. As I grabbed my own wrist with care, I sensed how absolutely wrecked it was, however being now prepared for the sensation, the pain didn’t take me by surprise and I was able to conceal any outer representation of it.

“It’s fine.” I lied, giving him a small smile, rubbing the skin with harsh metal fingers, which didn’t help.

Steve’s eyes were going nuts, scanning my face, scanning my hand, scanning my body, as if there were something else he’d missed, like a sword dug in my back or something. I could see the worry building up for he didn’t buy my poor acting.

“Let me see.” He insisted, his voice now a little sterner.

I shook my head and turned on my back to rest my head against the pillow, trying to forget about my wrist. I knew he would make a big deal out of it, blame himself, treat me even more like porcelain, as if it were possible. I only needed to heal the bone in question, not discuss it with an overprotective mess of a dom.

The man sat up straighter, still examining my face and torso. “Buck, let me see.”

“Mind grabbing me a sweatshirt?” I asked to derail the topic.

He held a serious and concerned expression, that was beginning to turn into anger, but complied, as he physically couldn’t not spoil me in aftercare, which implied accepting my every request, which were usually little to nothing. When he came back with the item, I received it with my good hand, however had trouble putting it on.

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine.” I raised my voice a little on exasperation, having already said those two words around twenty times before.

Nevertheless, I was not fine, taking in consideration the trouble it meant to slide my aching arm through the sleeves. I made a grimace that was impossible to control, followed by a grunt. Now he was definitely worried.

Not minding my opinions anymore, he walked up to me from the side of the bed and gently lifted my arm, concentrated on the hurting articulation, which happened to burn like a bitch when he held it in his hand. This time the noise that escaped me sounded much more like an annoyed grunt, mostly from holding back the pain but also out of real annoyance towards Steve’s stubbornness and hero complex.

“I hurt you.” He let out, examining the articulation.

I simply sat there, legs dangling off the bed, that big sweatshirt covering me all the way down to my thighs and a dead look on my face. It felt as if he were to yell at me like this was somehow my fault, which excessively-technically, it was; I was the one to always push myself to the limit, but those kinds of things don’t necessarily matter when you’re full of superserum and heal rapidly. Still, the image made Steve extremely upset.

“Was it the cuffs?” he questioned, still not facing me.

“I guess so, it’s where you put it last, didn’t you?” the words came out a tad too sarcastic for anyone’s liking, but I didn’t mean to take them back.

He closed his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You’re hurt.” Steve then let go of my hand smoothly to avoid any pain and rested one hand on his hip, more angry-pose than anything, even thought it was hard not to picture him as a model with such a sight. “Not fun-sex-hurt, but actually hurt. I hurt you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hand me my underwear?” I extended my arm, ignoring his overreaction.

He turned around to fulfill my command, not shutting up though. “This shouldn’t have happened. How did it happen?” he ranted while handing me the item.

“It was just an accident.” I said in a low voice, receiving the boxers and doing my best not to grimace while sliding it up my legs, but failing miserably. “It’s not- agh- a big deal.”

The ridiculous contradiction in my sentence made Steve tilt his head with a sad frown, a mixture between frustration and desperation for my refusal to let him do everything for me, or at least recognize the injury as important. He kneeled in front of me.

“Here, let me.”

“Go away.” I said unironically, however I felt like he received the words lightheartedly.

He insisted, which only made me feel even more humiliated as he tried to hold onto my boxers.

“Gimme.”

“I said go away!” I pushed back, hitting the back of my legs with the bed end and therefore falling on my butt; Steve stood back up and stared at me with a frown that had become much angrier, to which I cooled down and lowered my voice. “Can you stop acting like this? It’s insane.”

“No! What’s insane is whatever you’re doing!” he yelled down at me all of a sudden. “I broke your wrist, Bucky, how the hell do you expect me to react? I broke your fucking wrist!”

The scolding I was enduring had me looking down with shame, and I took the opportunity to lift the item of clothing that still laid right below my knees. I pushed it up my bum and accommodated myself, using my hand as little as possible.

“I didn’t notice.” I mumbled under my breath.

The way Steve’s voice rang across the room like a bark had me frowning up at him with something I couldn’t quite decipher, but walked along the lines of embarrassed and sad.

“What’s next? I choke you to death because you didn’t make me to stop?” he threw his hands out in the air, making a loud slapping noise when they fell at his sides. “I thought you were aware of a thing as simple as a safeword!”

Truth be told, the man had a fair ground to stand on regarding the why he was so disturbed. It was very easy for me to care little to nothing about my well-being. Hell, if Steve hadn’t been there to reach into my post-Hydra emotional hole and pull me out into his arms, I probably wouldn’t even be there in that room to receive his yelling. And my actions only confirmed it to him, the way I copied how reckless he was when it came to missions, how I didn’t mind leaving a wound unattended, the amount of times I forgot my body was mine and not the machine they had told me it was.

Technically, yes, this was somehow my fault for not noticing. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to apologize for something that held me as the primary victim. I was the one who got hurt, meaning Steve shouldn’t had been so tough on me for it.

He broke the tense silence with a puff of air, not raising his voice anymore. “Goddamn it, Buck!” he sighed, followed by his face falling on both of his hands in frustration.

I wasn’t entirely sure if it was caused by a fair mixture of my negligence and his decision to yell at me, or if one of those two weighed more than the other. Yet everything in my body pushed me to comfort him, not allow him to wallow by himself. I stood up slowly, contemplating his still body which barely shook his head a little, and walked to him where I could grab his arm tenderly.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I gave in, the slightest hint of annoyance in my voice. “I’ll be more careful. But I really didn’t notice.”

Instead of arguing back, Steve pulled me into a hug, which I reciprocated while avoiding any rough motions with or near my hand. He pressed the sides of our heads together and sighed again, this time more painfully.

“I can’t hurt you. I just can’t.” the way his thumb ran up and down my shoulder let me know he was apologetic more than anything. “I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t wanna yell.”

I remembered when I first told him what I was into, and he had thought he wasn’t capable of doing it, cause he didn’t wanna lay a finger on me if it was going to be painful in any way. But then we tried it, and he realized it was a different kind of pain and it very quickly grew on him. He liked playing like that, pretending to enjoy watching me suffer when all he really enjoyed was hear me beg, because it made him feel needed and in control.

He might have been the captain out there, but when it came to us both, he always said he had no say in his feelings or actions whatsoever, like I could ask him the world and he’d steal it from the entire population just for me. I never wanted to exceed those limits, never wanted to take advantage of his will. I even sometimes pretended he never confessed such thing to me.

“You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself.” I did my best to ease the moment and comfort him. “And it’ll heal tomorrow.”

Steve kissed my forehead, then my temple, then cheekbones, until it led us into a sweet kiss. After staring deep into my eyes, as if we could read each other’s minds by doing it, he led me to sit down on the mattress, where he took a seat right next to me.

“I love you.” He said seriously. “So much, if anything were to happen to you…”

I simply stared down to my hands. “It’s already happened, remember? I can take it.”

Whatever torment he thought he was capable of unwillingly, was nothing compared to the things I had actually endured, and nothing Steve could ever do would even approach anything done by Hydra. He meant safety. I never had wanted to draw the psychological link between Hydra and my kinks, but I was pretty sure it has to do with catharsis, perhaps allowing the person I feel most safe with have their way with me in a healing manner.

He, however, didn’t enjoy any idea that compared him with the people who abused me. I could see it in his eyes when I peaked then looked back down to my hands, which he grabbed with utter care and held in his own.

As he pressed our hands against his chest, I could feel his voice buzzing. “I don’t want you to. I’m supposed to take care of you, not the opposite.” Suddenly, there was a hint of a smile in his pink lips. “You gotta let me take care of you, no matter how annoying I can be.”

We both smiled, him pleased with his reference to my complaints earlier, and me, giving into his warmness. Sometimes I had a hard time fathoming the idea of a person being the embodiment of the concept of haven. He kissed my metal arm, a gesture he didn’t do often but it reminded me he was the only person who knew how sentient it was, how much of a part of me and not just a weapon.

“I’ll get you some painkillers, okay?” he leaned to drop a kiss in my forehead before tugging a strand of hair behind my ear. “A heating pad and some hot chocolate.”

I frowned at the last addition, however a small smirk escaping me. “What’s the chocolate for?”

Steve only smiled as he got up. “To spoil you.”

Somehow he still got away with his own, for I gave into allowing him to pamper me without a single protest. And I figured, I wouldn’t care being looked after like that. When he got back with the promised, I laid in Steve’s arms while he pressed play on our old TV that we could barely use despite being a dinosaur for the likes of everyone else in this century.

And sure, I also figured there was nothing else I would rather be doing.

[ardentmuse]

Terms of Endearment - Weasley Boys

The kinds of pet names the Weasley brothers would give to you.

(A/N: Assumes fem!reader. Needed a little break from prompts for a bit. I hope you enjoy. Also, if anyone has a good Percy face claim LET ME KNOW. I’ve racked my brain for months on this one.)

Masterlist

Bill

To Bill, you are his “love,” plain and simple. There is no need to complicate a feeling that is already so vast and beautiful in his mind. “Love” conveys everything he needs to say; that he is yours and you are his. When he needs to comfort you, he may also call you “sweetheart,” wanting to point out what he sees and loves in you, reminding you of all the goodness inside of you that you may be missing.

Bill loves simply saying your name in private moments, especially your full name. It reminds him that you are here with him, loving him, because you choose to be. Similarly, he loves hearing you call him William, especially in intimate moments, knowing that you see the full him, the true him, one reserved only for you.

After you marry, Bill often enjoys teasing you with a “Yes, Mrs. Weasley.” It started on your honeymoon, a playful bit of banter in the bedroom, but it continues in your marriage, often said with a giant grin as he grabs at your waist. And after you have children, Bill loves calling you “mum” just as much as he loves hearing you call him “dad” to the little ones. He is elated at the fact that together you have build something as beautiful as what his parents have, and seeing you as a provider, as a devoted wife and mother and lover, is like a dream. Calling you names that remind him of how beautifully you’ve transitioned into those roles makes him fall in love with you all over.

Charlie

Charlie is simple and usually prefers the beautiful sound of your name on his tongue to any pet name or playful affection. You’re a strong, capable person all your own and he doesn’t want to belittle you with something too cutesy.

That being said, Charlie does like to remind you of how much he loves you. He doesn’t mind using his words in a way that puts you up on a pedestal. “Love” and “my love” flow from his mouth with ease, especially in private or when he’s had one too many drinks. In many ways, he is sort of still shocked that you agreed to be with him, the giant nerd he is an all, and so he sometimes feels the need to let you know just how devoted he is to you. After you’ve lived together in Romania for a while, he starts calling you “dragostea mea,” Romania for “love,” simply because he enjoys how much it sounds like dragon.

In bed, you are often just “beautiful,” said with such reverence that you might think he’s praying as his fingers dance across your body while you rest together. He whispers it each time he kisses down your exposed skin and chants it as he makes love to you, over and over until you the word is simply a collection of sounds that flow off his tongue more like music than language.

Percy

Percy fancies himself a traditional and formal sort, and so he usually refers to you as “darling” or “dear” when talking to you. He loves the sense of security that comes with those words, like you are within his protection and his care, holding a place in his heart that is uniquely your own. In many ways, he models his relationships after how he sees his father treat his mum, soft and caring and only a tinge of submissiveness, at least in public.

When talking about you to others, you are usually simply “my girlfriend” or “my wife,” so often so that George usually teases that he’s forgotten your name. Early in your relationship, his brothers often groan, “Percy, we get it. You have a girlfriend. Stop bragging.” But to Percy, it isn’t bragging. It is simply him showing you the respect you deserve. You are important to him, more than anyone else, and he takes the title you hold in the relationship very seriously. You’ve agreed to be his and that needs to be celebrated.

In private, however, Percy can actually be very light and silly. You’ll occasionally get nicknames based on the intimate things you share like your fears or your desires, only to be known between the two of you, things like “cuddlebug” if you are being particularly affectionate or “motherhen” if you are being particularly anxious. But they are always accompanied with a gentle stroke of your cheek and a light kiss to your lips to let you know he doesn’t mean to tease, only to love and adore you.

Fred

Fred both ironically and unironically calls you his “princess.” Sure, he calls you “princess” when you are being particularly needy or demanding. But he also calls you “princess” whenever you’ve done something brilliant or kind or affectionate. And he especially loves calling you “princess” in the bedroom, treating you like royalty as he dotes all over you. He loves the contrast in the action, calling you “princess” when you were in a particularly unprincesslike scenario, flush and needy underneath him. Though to him, you are always worthy of praise and devotion, so the name always stays.

Before you start dating, he also called you “doll.” It was his subtle way of letting you know he was interested. It wasn’t so affectionate that you might find it presumptuous, but just familiar enough that Fred felt like he was conveying his meaning.

He also enjoys trying to one-up you with silly, over-the-top nicknames later on in the relationship. He’ll see your “Freddiemuffinkins” and raise you “snickerdoodliepoodlieboo” until one of you breaks down into a fit of giggles. Hearing you guys call to each other in progressively longer and more-complicated nicknames across the store is one of the reasons George starts working in the office in the back, determined to get away from the two lovebirds who are still sickly sweet after years of being together.

George

“Hey, babe,” is by far the most common phrase out of George’s mouth. He constantly wants your attention and wants you by his side. And “babe” just flows so easily off the tongue. It is simple and sweet, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. He loves when you say it back to him, too, loving how you mean it as a sign of your love but also a sign of your attraction to him.

When he is upset, it usually transitions to “baby,” called both as a whine when you are denying him something or with a little more force when he needs you to focus. Especially during the war, he’d often grab your shoulders and whisper “baby” until you looked at him before he’d communicate to you something he needed you to do to keep yourself safe, always followed by an “I love you.”

When George is feeling particularly sweet, you are his “angel.” It started during your first pregnancy. He just found the appearance of you so captivating that he couldn’t stop it from coming from his mouth. And then during your labor, it became a word of praise and encouragement. And from then on it just stuck. When he says “my angel,” you know you can ask for basically whatever you want because it usually means he is so overwhelmed by love for you in the moment that he’d do just anything to make you happy.

Ron

Ron doesn’t particularly enjoy pet names, usually opting for a nickname based on your name that only he is allowed to use. He’ll shorten your name or and an “e” sound and if neither of those are possible, he’ll simply call you by your last name in hopes of distinguishing himself from everyone else who talks to you. He wants to have a special language with you, to show you that what you have is special, but the sweet stuff is a little too much for him, at least at first.

As your relationship progresses and Ron’s feelings grow, he becomes more comfortable with allowing you to be his weakness. “Sunshine” becomes a common greeting, Ron liking the nicknames that convey how you make him feel, showing the positive impact you’ve had on him and the brightness you’ve added to his life. “Honey” gets added a little later on and as you become more domestic, a way for Ron to convey your equal partnership as it is a name you both use for each other.

When talking to others about you, he often calls you his “better half,” stuff like “Hey, mum, have you seen my better half?” when he comes down for breakfast late on Christmas mornings with the family. He doesn’t mean it self-deprecating. He simply means that he views you as the thing that makes him better, as two halves of a whole unit, not necessarily lessor apart but definitely better together. Ron loves you for how he grows beside you and he’ll make sure everyone knows it.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p21 reaction

So, Dave, huh?

Doesn't seem as if Dirk is expecting him to fall unconscious too from the looks of it.

But that doesn't mean that he might not. It depends on who's really behind the condition, Dirk or Alternate Calliope.

You'd think Dave might get called by Roxy when they can't wake Jade up, but that might happen in the latter half of the page.

It's notable that Dirk even as almost omniscient narrator seems harried to continue acknowledging certain scenes. As if he fears he might be influenced.

"DAVE: holy shit thats disgusting KARKAT: DON’T BE A FUCKING XENOPHOBE DAVE: im not being a xenophobe" Yeah Dave, be more sensitive towards the people whose body image is celestial. :P

"Karkat doesn’t respond immediately. He shuffles his feet to the edge of the outcropping they’re standing on and stares down at the brood pit, where the Mother Grub of Earth C is squelching out unfertilized jelly." :O They actually left their hive! And they're meeting up with Kanaya! So... yeah, didn't think we'd require further indulging into the reproductive cycle of trolls, we had TMI already, but here we are. :P Jelly to go into the slurry, unfertilized like fish eggs. Joy.

"No answer. This silence makes Dave actually back up for three seconds and think about what the hell just came out of his mouth." Karkat's just distracted, thinking of something else or looking for Kanaya, I suspect, but Dave goes reading too much into it.

"Dave could definitely be handling this situation with a certain measure of restraint or grace. But he’s got my genes, so he decides to handle it a different way than that." Well, Dirk did say he owned his own faults. He wasn't lying.

"DAVE: but im almost as passionate about this troll speciesism thing as i am about the economy which you may not have known is my number one" Heh, Dave's really getting worked up about this, assuming he came over poorly.

"Karkat still doesn’t answer. He’s staring real intently at the jelly." He doesn't spot any mutations, by chance?

"KARKAT: HEY DIPSHIT, SHUT UP FOR A MINUTE. KARKAT: I’M NOT IGNORING YOU BECAUSE I’M MAD. DAVE: what DAVE: that wasnt what i KARKAT: I KNOW THAT YOU PERISH LIKE A DELICATE LILAC BLOOM IN THE FUCKING DESERT IF NOT SHOWERED WITH MY VERBAL ATTENTION AT ALL TIMES. KARKAT: BUT I’M KIND OF WITNESSING THE REBIRTH OF MY ENTIRE FUCKING SPECIES RIGHT HERE. KARKAT: YOU EVER THINK THAT THIS MIGHT BE A MONUMENTAL MOMENT FOR ME?" Wow, this is actually really much more like the Karkat we're used to hearing rants from.

I can definitely understand he feels some very heavy feelings right now, since everything that happened in the A2 session and after has lead to this moment. So I'm definitely allowing Karkat a measure of solemnness, and perhaps even feeling proud and aloof at the achievement.

"Dave comes to the edge of the outcropping, standing shoulder to shoulder with Karkat as he too observes the majesty of translucent goo getting birthed out of an alien asshole." So majestic. I'm definitely getting "Mufasa showing Simba the Pride Lands" vibes from this scene. :P

"KARKAT: WHAT PART OF THIS IS DISGUSTING? KARKAT: IS IT THE SLOW DEFLATING OF ITS DISTENDED ABDOMEN? KARKAT: THE SOUND OF DOZENS OF SEGMENTED LEGS CLACKING AGAINST ITS EXOSKELETON? KARKAT: THE UNFERTILIZED SLURRY BEING SLOWLY SQUEEZED FROM ITS OVIPOSITIONAL SPHINCTER? KARKAT: IS THAT IT? IS THAT DISGUSTING TO YOU DAVE? DAVE: kind of KARKAT: ... KARKAT: YOU’RE RIGHT KARKAT: IT’S HORRIBLE" You know when people sum up three items, the third one is often the most important one. :P And yeah, I figure Karkat can still see how horrific this is even as a troll himself. We know how much he could get grossed out by Equius' sweat and strongly voiced his dissent, and this is a whole new level of excrements.

"KANAYA: Im Sorry But I Can Hear You From Down Here" Kanaya has excellent hearing, being able to discern their blabbering from all the squelching and clacking. It might the rainbow drinker abilities.

"She’s glowing. Her skin, I mean." Yes, we already established she and Rose would adopt, if they'd ever go for progeny, if Rose can be convinced. :P

"Kanaya steps out from beneath the canopy where she was doing grub science, wiping her hands on a silk cloth." It's cool to see Kanaya do such a Jade-like activity! It's actually quite logical that her kind would be well versed in biology, given their strong dependence on the grub for (biological) reproduction.

"Her mood can be politely described as pensive." ... Something might be bothering her. A lack of donations, so far? It's not as if the imperial drone system will be set again, right? Depends on how they did things on Beforus, which she might shed light on. ... Figuratively.

"DAVE: whats shaking sis KANAYA: Must You Always Call Me That DAVE: nah but it does feel pretty rad to say DAVE: like wow my sister in law is an alien how" Pffff, yeah, that's right! Well, that's the first time someone besides Calliope (and Joey) is called sis! What'd that make Karkat to Rose? :P Since he has ties to both Kanaya and Dave.

"DAVE: i love our awesome planet where everyone is free to form xenophilic family units without fear of government interference or reprisal" That's an odd thing to say, but okay.

"Karkat pauses to imitate a very common Davism that involves two hands and a double-wrist swivel. It’s an incredibly good imitation, because he sees this particular bit of body language like ten times a day." ... Does Dave make a jazz hands signal when he's trying to change the subject? :D

"KARKAT: IT’S THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN AND YOU DO IT LIKE TEN TIMES A DAY." ... Is Karkat picking that up from the narration, unconsciously?

"DAVE: im dropping a beat DAVE: like im using a turntable and scratching one song into another" ... Well then, less dorky and more related to his interests than I thought.

"KARKAT: IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO FOLD LAUNDRY YOU FORGOT TO IRON." At this point both he and Dave have forgotten Kanaya's presence. :P

"KANAYA: So This Is About The Election KARKAT: AH." She was expecting them. I wonder if they'll get as much an evasive answer as Roxy and Calliope gave Jade.

"KANAYA: I Do Get The Internet Down Here" Pretty good reception though! 'The Internet', such a Kanaya-ism.

"KANAYA: I Am Impressed That You Managed To Be Seen In Front Of That Many People Without Spontaneously Bursting Into Flames" So he gave a public statement! Nice.

"KARKAT: WOW THANKS, ANOTHER VOTE OF CONFIDENCE FROM ONE OF MY DEAREST FRIENDS." Yeah, well, your speeching days are kind of behind you, and even then it was only in front of 12 people, she may or may not have a point.

"KARKAT: THIS CONDESCENSION IS REALLY RICH COMING FROM THE PERSON WHO DECIDED HER NARCISSISTIC OBSESSION WITH BEING THE ONE TO HATCH THE MOTHER GRUB WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN NOT SEEDING OUR PLANET WITH A STOPGAP SYSTEM OF REPRODUCTION THAT WOULD CAUSE SYSTEMIC SPECIESISM TO OSSIFY INTO SOCIETY FOR 5000 YEARS." Pfff, Karkat already mentioned he discussed these topics so often with Kanaya over the phone. It'll be interesting to hear her retort.

"KANAYA: But I Do Not Think It Is Productive To Attribute These Resultant Troubles To A Single Decision Or Individual KANAYA: It Stands In The Way Of Our Efforts To Address Them KARKAT: MMNNNRRRGHHH......... DAVE: (shhhhhh)" I like this, Kanaya's right in absolving herself at least in part of the blame for the end result. Karkat is doing wonders in restraining himself from shouting. Dave is shooshing Karkat.

"KAYANA: You Know As Well As I Do That We Must Present A United Front" Yeah, that'd be best to not cause societal upheaval. But they're not doing a good job already of course, running two different campaigns.

"KANAYA: I Have Nothing But The Utmost Faith In You" ... is the new "I believe in you".

"Kanaya reaches out to put a hand on Karkat’s head. He doesn’t duck away in time, and she gives him an affectionate, matronly hair-ruffle between his horns." I love how Kanaya's motherly/sisterly feelings towards Karkat manifest sometimes. :D *pap pap good crab*

"KANAYA: While I Know That It Is Difficult For You To Take A Direct Compliment KANAYA: I Have In The Past Put My Faith In You When The Threat To Our Survival Has Been Immediate And Literal KANAYA: Its Basically Nothing To Ask Me To Do It Again Now That The Threat Is Far More ... KANAYA: *Existential*" Awww. Yeah, she always was one of his closest confidantes. Even going through with the trolling of the kids when she didn't feel like it would be that effective. And she's right, the dangers now are far more vague.

"KANAYA: Is How I Think I Shall Put It KANAYA: If We Are Going To Be Polite" ... And personal, I guess, since they come from within their own group. (Let's be honest, the trolls were a team but not a cohesive one. In that regard, the players on Earth C are far more kin.

"Dave is watching her, but Karkat’s looking contemplatively at his entwined hands. Kanaya’s right: it’s almost excruciating for him to take a completely unironic compliment, especially face-to-face, like what she just said to him. I understand this about Karkat. It’s one of the precious few things he and I have in common." Well, it stands to reason that if Karkat has a lot in common with Dave, he'd have a lot in common with Dirk too! But maybe some of those things are not part of the same set.

"We internalize and project the quality in very different ways, however, which is why I’m going to win." Here goes Dirk again, assuming he's the real leader on his side. He assumes his way of dealing with compliments will make him come off better, but he might just seem arrogant.

"KANAYA: Jane Has Been Here To Speak With Me Recently In Fact" Oh! I actually figured the issue was being discussed over the heads of the actual people impacted by a decision. ... Like is so often the case on our own Earth.

"KANAYA: You Know I Do Like Jane KANAYA: In Some Regards She Reminds Me Of A Friend We Had Who Sadly Did Not Survive Our Time On The Meteor" Feferi?

"KANAYA: She Was Unfailingly Kind To Everyone She Met But She Also Happened To Be The Heiress To The Throne Of A Vast And Bloody Empire" Aww. We didn't have much interaction between them, but it seems she held Feferi in high regard. It would have been a different empire under her. Different from Beforus as well, since the troll race had been influenced so severely by Doc Scratch and )(IC by then already.

"KANAYA: And While She Had A Lot Of Opinions On Reform She Had Already Wrenched Some Of Her Power From Our Last Empress In The Traditional Manner" Via the lusus. That might be her reasoning behind waiting until after the time skip to hatch the Grub. For the bond that would form between troll and grub. Maybe she felt she alone could handle the responsibility, or she craved a little sliver of that contact she lossed with her own custodian.

"Karkat finally looks up at the description of one of their many dead friends." Yeah, this would surely stir something with him as well.

"She rests an ear against the rise of its massive stomach, then taps the shell with two perfectly manicured fingernails." That calls back to when she got the matriorb out from her dead lusus' body.

"KANAYA: By Which I Mean That Jane Is Perfectly Pleasant And I Believe That She Has Only The Best Of Intentions KANAYA: But I Cant Shake The Feeling That Deep Inside Her Lurks The Potential For Despotism" Yeah, we know how it could have manifested in Feferi from Beforus.

"KARKAT: OKAY I GET WHY YOU GUYS KEEP CALLING JANE A CRYPTO-FASCIST KARKAT: BUT FUCKING FEFERI? SHE WAS HARMLESS. KANAYA: These Things Take Time To Gestate Karkat DAVE: damn" Dave is impressed by Kanaya's political analysis.

"KANAYA: Power Corrupts In Small Steps KANAYA: Compromises KANAYA: Concessions KANAYA: Appeasements KANAYA: And Leaders Follow The Example Set For Them KANAYA: Look At What Jane Has Modeled Herself After Already" So maybe the situation on Beforus wasn't Feferi's doing single-handedly, just a situation that grew and grew over millennia. A goal reached by means bartered over, the result corrupted in the process of achieving it.

I don't think Jane really modelled herself after the Condesce consciously, but if it's the only example of a powerful business woman she had, then of course she'd unknowingly copy some bad habits she doesn't think are bad.

"KANAYA: This Is Why I Trust You Karkat KANAYA: Because You Listen To Advice From Below And Beside You Not From Above" Plus, the Sufferer is his precedent, whether he believes in him or not. And yes, Karkat might admire achievements made by what he believes to be his betters (Vriska, Meenah, the Condesce), but he's learned not to copy their behaviour.

"DAVE: so weve got your endorsement then

She laughs, not kindly. KANAYA: Jane Offered Me “A Seat” On The “Board Of Responsible Troll Reproduction” KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK. HOW DARE SHE! KANAYA: That Is Exactly What I Said" Wow, yeah, that was definitely inconsiderate of Jane. Trolls should be the end responsible of their own reproduction, and if there's a board, there's a chairman, but as long as there's a president above either and she's human, the inequality persists.

"RECREATION SPRAWL" Troll term for park.

"KANAYA: In Case You Cant Tell I Am Actually Fucking Furious About This" Well, thanks Kanaya, I really couldn't!

"KANAYA: Our Reproduction Method Is Alien And Unfamiliar KANAYA: To A Human It Must Sound Monstrous KANAYA: Uncontrolled Even" While it wasn't, of course, there's a rhyme and reason to it. Especially considering the dangers on Alternia, a big pool of spawn to go through the trials is necessary. ... I wonder if they're going to set up new trials on Earth C, in the brooding caverns?

Come to think of it... What the grubs go through... It's kind of similar in a way to how in humans, the male sperm has to survive the trip to the egg cell.

"KARKAT: WHEN I HEAR ABOUT HOW HUMAN GRUBS CHEW THEIR WAY OUT OF THE FEMALE MATESPRIT’S ABDOMINAL HOLE BEFORE CONSUMING THE WOMB MEMBRANE IT MAKES ME WANT TO VOMIT." That's... well, a different phrasing but still close to the truth. Makes us sound like birds hatching from an egg, though.

"KANAYA: I Hope That There Is At Least One Principle We Share As A Planet KANAYA: Which Is That We Must All Work To Ensure Equal Dignity And Respect For Every Species" It's sad that in real life, so many people disagree.

"KANAYA: Otherwise KANAYA: What Was This All For

The three of them stare at the floor in adorably cartoonish synchronicity. What was this all for, indeed?" It's almost as if they're looking down to the narration, acknowledging Dirk's presence. :P

"Morality is a cultural construct. It’s pure ego for any of them to believe that their personal interpretation of it will result in the most effective laws." As for your personal interpretation, Dirk? :P

"DAVE: would you be willing to say that exactly but DAVE: like in front of a huge crowd DAVE: and also a television crew or six" She'd actually pull it off better than Karkat. Maybe she could be his press speechperson on troll subjects? :P

"KARKAT: OR MAYBE JUST IN FRONT OF JAKE ENGLISH? KANAYA: Oh Dear Has Jane Recruited Jake" The Jakestakes return. Kanaya also believes in that Jake will sway the vote.

"KANAYA: That Would Be Disastrous KANAYA: He Is Beloved In The Troll Kingdom For His Perky Ass" Why. Of all the universal constants.

"DAVE: seriously? KARKAT: I TOLD YOU IT’S NOT JUST ME! KANAYA: It Has Some Terrible Arcane Power KANAYA: I Have Never Seen Anything Like It" It's like his <3 quadrant, a black hole everything is attracted to.

"DAVE: but jane is one of his best friends so we gotta approach this with a scorched earth policy DAVE: give him a whole cadre of sob stories thatll make him feel all manly and heroic for lending his support DAVE: just gift wrapping babies for him to kiss KARKAT: TROLL BABIES EVEN? DAVE: sure that can be part of the deal he can kiss the first natural born grub right on its gooey lil head" He'd don a mayoral sash, top hat, fake moustache and monocle for the occasion, I can just picture it.

"KANAYA: Have You Spoken To Rose Yet DAVE: uh no DAVE: i mean DAVE: shes

Dave mimes laying down and taking pills. The look Kanaya gives him is neither fond nor patronizing." Very tactful, Dave, real smooth. At least Dave didn't bother Rose while she's otherwise occupied, like during the start of their session. Progress, right?

"DAVE: whats up with that anyway DAVE: are you guys uh DAVE: grub pregnant" Oh, yeah I should have figured Dave would start wildly guessing when not knowing the specifics behind the migraine.

"DAVE: cmon karkat dont you wanna be an uncle to a lil bundle of love and unnatural genetic tampering" Oh, now the baby became a genetically manipulated crossbreed. Jegus, Dave.

"DAVE: ok stop freaking out im just saying from what i understand of troll reproduction it would be technically possible for a troll and human to KANAYA: No DAVE: and with ectobiology anythings possible" Well, it's true the fandom speculated about crossbreeds, but uh, Dave is just approaching the subject from the worst angle.

"DAVE: i dunno its just unusual for rose to brush me off for our annual ecto sibling oversharing session" I would have thought they'd AT LEAST schedule it monthly, not annually. :P

"DAVE: shes been sick for a while DAVE: either shes pregnant or i got reasons to be worried" And NOW we get to the REAL reason Dave's breached the subject.

"DAVE: id be cool with it yknow DAVE: bring on the rosemary combo grubs KANAYA: Rosemary" Hah, nice! Shipping name dropped! Maybe that's what Dave thinks of them in his mind sometimes, like how "Dave and Karkat" became a concept to their friends.

"DAVE: like rose plus your last name which is maryan or something right KANAYA: Maryam" Oh Dave, inconsiderate much? :P

"DAVE: the rosemary babies would have her hair and your horns or whatever DAVE: like when two cartoon animals of different species give in to their lust and have preposterous children" Like what Dirk drew for Jake and Roxy.

"KANAYA: Im Going To Call My Wife And You Are Going To Stop Talking" Oh boy, here we go. Is Dirk going to answer? Making him both narrator and character at the same time? Is he going to impersonate Rose? Or will Rose unexpectedly wake up?

"Dave and Karkat bicker about what their combo kids would look like, in the event that they decided to stop being such laughable wusses" Even Dirk is rooting for them, kind of. And why would they even discuss this subject if the subject of becoming more than friends even scares them so much they don't acknowle- wait I answered my own question.

"Rose’s line rings for a long time. It’s unusual, she thinks. Rose rarely leaves her phone unattended." She rarely leaves an occasion hanging to be able to speak long sentences.

"Rose is in absolutely no condition to be having a conversation with anyone. Not even her cherished bride. DIRK: Hey," Is Dirk going to lie, I wonder. It would just be another mark against him, but a big one, as it'd be a confirmed action of malicious intent.

"Kanaya’s voice turns sharp right away. KANAYA: Excuse Me

She can sense that something’s wrong." Alright! He won't be able to spin the wheel on her, if he'd wish to do so.

"She’s also smart enough, and facile enough in handling questionable men" - right, Doc Scratch.

"to understand that she quickly needs to regulate the tone of her voice for diplomatic purposes. KANAYA: Dirk KANAYA: Is That You" Not fooling him at all, Kanaya, he knows you know it's him. This turned almost into a call with a hostage-holder.

"I don’t answer immediately. I’m distracted by something." His own narration, or something happening to Rose? ... Or perhaps... Perhaps Dirk is making contact with Reload Dirk, if he still exists. It would be something if he lost touch with Earth C for a while.

Perhaps it's more like what Blaperile thinks, Dirk is being distracted by events in the Furthest Ring, leading up to the upcoming perspective switch.

"She really should chill out, anyway. I’ve got everything under control. Not that she’ll ever be able to fully appreciate this." Well that's the understatement of the year. Kanaya would never forgive him, and it's only questionable if a lot of his other friends will. It'll dependent on further developments.

"I don’t have time to explain right now. John’s doing something vaguely important to the plot again." You'd think that what we last saw, John and the wallet, is where we'd continue his scene. But maybe Dirk fastforwarded his narration of John (he showed off at one point and let him spend a few hours, remember?), and now Rose's timeline caught up.

But this means Dirk's currently not in a state to answer Kanaya, but what does that mean? Is he going to freeze with Rose's phone in hand for a few hours, or has he broken off the call to "write" the narration?

"DIRK: Kanaya, I don’t have time to explain right now." That's not an acceptable answer for her and you know it. Unless he has her fall unconscious, too, Dave and Karkat and her are going to come over!

"DIRK: John’s doing something vaguely important to the plot again." Wow, he actually repeated his narration into the phone. He really doesn't control his situation as much as he thinks.

"KANAYA: Dirk... KANAYA: What DIRK: This is gonna have to wait. KANAYA: Dirk DIRK: I’m putting you on hold, ok? KANAYA: DIRK!" "Putting you on hold", pfffff. It's a personal cliffhanger for Kanaya. At least he's partially outed himself to the other people now. Unless he can continue his conversation with her with a 'reasonable' delay of only a few seconds from her perspective, and then proceeds to smoothly talk around what he told her, with his narration powers influencing her to drop the subject.

[clacker--volley]

Headcanons.

- Would fight anyone who undermines or harms dogs tbh. - Is actually a pretty good singer. Too bad he prefers to burst out singing terribly off-key just for shits and giggles. - Sometimes, thinking about Hamon - the word -, can make him feel insanely hungry. - Is a natural at asspulling. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- Absolutely DESPISES any type of unfair discrimination, especially racism and homophobia.

- Being away from friends, family- or just people in general, for extended periods of time often makes him feel depressed and spiritless. While Joseph doesn’t show it, he’s always felt alone since childhood, due to barely having any friends for much of his life a n d being left to believe that both of his parents were dead. Although Joseph does value having alone time as well, he still prefers spending time with others overall.

- A big chatterbox sometimes, chiefly if it's a topic/about something he loves. 

- Due to being fairly rich, he can be a greedy ass most of the time, although him showing acts of generosity IS very much possible. - Has a HARDCORE love for tricks and pranks. so much that it can even get him into some trouble with the law.#itsjustaprankbro - Should he see somebody upset and needing some comfort, especially if they're crying, he won't falter going full-retard mode- telling jokes or funny stories just to get them to crack a smile. - Can mimic a few animal noises with near-perfect accuracy. Bird-calls are his specialty. - Likes to tease others should he find out that they like pinapple on pizzas, yet; Joseph secretly likes pineapple on pizzas himself. Unironically. - Joseph's often warm, (usually) polite, and silly to most people, and is unashamed with showing affection (eg. head pats, hand on shoulder/back, hugs) to those he likes/cares about- sometimes even treating complete strangers as if he'd known them for years. However, he'll be hot headed as well as rude, get confrontational and violent- at times going as far as holding a grudge towards anyone who insults/hurts/acts like an asshole to him, or others, firsthand. - Can be meticulous with what garments he'll purchase or wear. It's not uncommon to see Joseph being stuck in his wardrobe searching for something 'cool' or 'tasteful' to wear before going out on a daily basis. - Joseph is confident as heck in himself, so getting even slightly red-faced is a rarity. When it does happen, it can take a rather huge hit on his self-esteem afterwards.   - Finds that he feels more 'alive' and lively af around evening time, particularly when close or in enormous cities where there's a lot of activity. - (Un)surprisingly knows a thing or two about applying cosmetics and is surprisingly good at it. - Knows jack shit about managing or saving money responsibly, often buying random stuff out of impulse. What Jojo mostly buys are  firearms, junk food, and comic books, among other stuff that happens to catch his eye. -He collects various things, mostly superhero comic books, figurines, and other collectables that pertain to superheros - (Despite not being very good at it) Joseph can act flirtatious now and again, even without taking note. However when it comes to wanting to legit impress someone he likes, he'll (at first) likely try too hard to come off suave and cool, then wind up acting like the big lovable goofball that he really is. - Absolutely DESPISES any type of unfair discrimination, especially racism and homophobia.

-Whenever Joseph is at an Italian restaurant, he almost always ask if they have squid ink pasta first before anything. And frequently avoids anything with the name 'Caesar' in it -The sight of bubbles always gets him all sentimental

- Unless you want to have a messy, burnt up kitchen NEVER ask Joseph to cook- even asking him to boil water without supervision would be risky - He can speak English, Japanese, and a few words in Italian -Prior to dealing with actual vampires and all that bs Halloween used to be one of Joseph's favorite holidays- nowadays he lowkey doesn't trust nor acknowledge anyone that go trick-or-treating, especially those dressed up as supernatural creatures (eg. vampires, werewolves, witches, etc.). Christmas is his new favorite holiday.

-Despite being a smartass who is rude, intentional or not, he's still a warm, affectionate person- and acts like a big-ol puppy to the ones he trusts/cares for the most.

- Can fall asleep like a rock practically anywhere/on anything, and does so quite often. His dreams are wacky and strange, though Joseph tends to forget them easily.

- Give him a video game and, instead of playing the game normally on his first playthrough, he'll likely (thanks to his Bizarre Luck) find the strangest glitches/exploits- then proceed to break the game even further by using cheats/hacks.

- Joseph has no special physical 'preferences' when it comes to romantic partners/S.O, but he finds himself attracted to the type of people that are fun-loving, kindhearted, care for their loved ones, love pranks and/or are as creative as he is. He's also unpredictable, so he might suddenly fall for others fairly quickly, even if they might not be the perfect match. He's dense af, so if the other person wants to make their move(s) first, they'd have to be pretty forward. Even then, it might take a while for any realizations that he also likes them back to sink in.

- It wouldn't be a shock to see such a hotheaded, impetuous, and confrontational young man like Joseph to often willingly and carefully cater to a S.O's every whim every now and then, so much so that it might overwhelm them or even make Joseph himself come off as superficial at times- neither of which is intended. - Loves to tease/troll others through various means, usually to exact playful/innocent revenge on his friends, or (on a more severe level) toy with enemies in order catch them off guard and learn their weaknesses. Seeing others become utterly confused/100% done with life? The boi lives for it- yet, rather ironically, Joseph himself is easily frustrated should his (often improvised) schemes backfire on himself- which happens most of the time.

-His favorite foods are fried chicken, squid ink pasta, chewing gum, chocolate, caramel, Italian food, Mexican food, apricot, American food, sour/sweet candy, bananas, strawberries, apples, and lime -His favorite drinks are coca cola, coffee, sprite, and water with ice (when he’s in a Fancier Mood he’ll sometimes use ice containing cut-up fruit, like strawberries or lime)

- Is an extremely messy eater who he practically inhales large amounts of food, especially after training or doing physical activities. The only times where he holds himself back is when eating in front of family, friends, or important figures, but even then, Joseph keeping his face completely clean isn't guaranteed

~more will be added as I think of them!

[stinkysmoothbrain]

Baine

Character: (Supporting character) Known for his older brother like demeanour. Is the constant voice of reason for everyone, especially Kai. Thinks with his lower part of his body, a douche bag when you first meet him. Everyone's first impression of him is that he is a "chad", due to his choice of topics in conversations, he usually stirrers to talking about women ( in a sexual manner, or a flirtatious manner). In all has a "white guy" vibe but in the end once you really stick with him, he is loyal, understanding and in all a really good person. Its just hes kinda a dick the first time you meet him.

Background: His "chad" demeanour comes from the fact that he is the only child in his family, which means he is used to being the centre of attention. In public or social gatherings, he would usually like to stand out. Throughout his life his motto was "Be the person everyone wants to be" , this lead him to putting much effort to understand his peers. At one point of his life he felt as if he was living to please others, doing everything he can to try and make them happy, to try and make them pay attention to him, to never let their eyes look away. He felt trapped in this cell he built himself.

Canons

credits to @nothingbutprompts​ for the questions.

How do they feel about people shorter/taller than them? -He finds short people funny, like an angry Oompa Loompa. He's on the taller side of the spectrum, even if there is someone taller than him, he doesnt mind, at least hes not built like slender man.

What are they like on social media? (What’s their username, profile pic, etc.) -He probably gets his jokes or any form on comedic line from Reddit or 4chan. Thinks that the internet is just a place to entertain him self and often trolls people just for the heck of it. His username would either be basic or questionable, Baine_69, Bbainexx, Bigdickboyxox His profile picture would be some anime character he relates to a waifu ahegao style. Adds random people on snap just to raise his streaks, would probably get himself murdered cause he never turns ghost mode on.

Their sexuality? -All of my characters are straight, I think it would really affect me if i made them anything other than straight.

Preferred weather? -Cloudy skies, cool enough for sweater weather but also warm enough to not feel chilly.

What’s their sleeping schedule? -sleeps at the weirdest times, kinda like the uncle who crashes in your house for no reason. (sleeps at 2pm- 8pm)

Favourite music? -Listens to Cuco, Logic, FN, and rappers a like, unironically listens to lil peep and x

How’s their cooking? -Like a basic white guy, the only "recipes" he knows are boxed macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese, PB&J and Baloney sandwich.

It’s movie night, what movie do they pick? -Probs any marvel movie or John Wick

How would they hold up in a pillow war? -Would definitely team up with Aldora just cause they get along really well, refrains from slapping you with a pillow cause he cant control his strength sometimes.

What’s their sleeping position? -On his back like a weirdo, only one pillow wtf???

Who do they go to for comfort? - Kai, they talk things through like homies.

Something small that they enjoy? -People coming to him for help.

How do they feel about physical contact by others? -(For people he considers friends) He isnt very physical but he does ask for hugs sometimes, he doesnt really mind being hugged.

What is enough to bring them to tears? -When the stupid ass men shot the dog in the first John Wick movie.

Biggest pet peeve? -Actual dirt under his/ other people's nails. People telling him what to do (cause hes somewhat egotistical like that.)

How well do they take care of themselves? -Pretty well actually, aside from the fact that he does his laundry late and only ever orders take outs.

What’s something they like that may be surprising to others? -Reading, though he seems the type to never touch a book hes secretly a bookworm.

Do they consider others family? -Only people in his inner circle.

Any bad habits that they have? -Thinking hes above everyone else and is a know it all. Jack of all trades, master of none.

What’s their idea of a perfect vacation? -Water park for sure, the "atmosphere" and the  "slides" just seem so fun to him.

Do they get lost easily? Will they ask for directions if they are? -Knows the way to the local cheap bookstore from any direction by heart, but if you ask him the nearest park so that u can hide from a homicidal maniac, youre screwed.

The strangest thing they have ever seen? -Meta trying to fit cheeto puffs in his nose.

How well do they accept advice? -With a handshake and a punch to the face if he didnt ask for it.

How much do they swear? -Not as much as Aldora thats for sure.

Do they like being in pictures? -A lot of people call him photogenic but he never believes them. (Probably on someone's mood board thanks to Aldora's camera work)

Is there anything they’re bad at? -Fishing, ironically since hes a whit man lmao

What’s their morning schedule? -Red bull as coffee and then real coffee from Dunkins.

Any past injuries? -Broke his leg multiple times all due to alcoholic influences. Kinda weird he can still walk.

Something that disgusts them? -Meta.

[beowulfs-booty-call]

SG Headcanons? SG Headcanons: Beowulf Edition™

Beowulf is stated to be very patriotic in his voice lines and Parasoul references his work “with” them, before rudely telling him to retire if she wins against him. This means that she also knew about the plan with the Medici Mafia to fight a drugged Grendel and win against him for the sake of the war against foreigners / the Skullgirls. However, this may also mean Beowulf participated in the war or had some sort of encounter with the royal family, if not being the entertainment for them in some manner. I personally think King Renoir oversaw his match against Grendel and made sure to work the deal so as to work up the favor for the canopy kingdom.

Beowulf also likes to drink Chamomile tea after first killing Grendel, it was offered to him as a way to sleep, and as such, it helped get over the restless nights where all he could sometimes do was realize… He may have actually killed a friend. I wanna think that there is some idea that he’s killed Grendel, but he’s repressed it into the psyche he plays off as Beowulf™

There’s been times Beowulf sits on the couch just to hope he can relax, but all he does is sit in his robe, boxers and tank top and just idles. His mind runs a whole bunch and he’s distracted with the idea of “What’s his purpose? What’s his use? What really is Beowulf?”

I actually project myself through Beowulf, lot like other characters such as Terra Branford or Eriko Kirishima, but I like to believe that Beowulf actually took his name up instead of being born with it. If not, he went with “Just Beowulf” instead because he’s a simple guy. That’s all he needs.

He’s also a really hard worker, but, he’s prone to sometimes over doing it AKA training every day with his weights or the gym because it’s been mentally drilled into him. If he wanted to be the best, he HAD to be the best. It’s one of the reasons he drinks Chamomile tea often: to relax and let things take place. At 37 years old, he was prone to feeling like he wouldn’t be able to finish every goal he wanted until he was “old”. He understands a bit better now that his accomplishments will last at the end of his storyline.

In the TV show Annie and Beowulf run, Beowulf is the superhero to the kids of New Meridian, while also taking on many new opponents in the ringside. He’s much more a WWE styled wrestler in that he’s back to being a celeb now, but still has his humble beginnings. He also has dated on and off again, but, even in the show he makes empty compliments / receives them from both genders. “What a strong man…” “Ah, thank you sir! Wulfman eats 8 dozen eggs every mornin’ just for trainin’!” “Oh… If only that amazing, handsome Captain Wulf was here…!” “Never fear, the Wulf is here! And… He’s free any time on Friday 8pm at Yu-Wan’s!”

Every morning he wakes up and does 125 squats, 200 pec decks, 225 crunches…

COMFORT CLOTHES EVERY DAY THIS MAN ONLY WEARS HIS BOXERS AND TANK TOPS OR SWEATS HE’S STILL A COLLEGE STUDENT.

When “incognito”, he just wears sunglasses and a baseball cap. Smooth.

Beowulf has also been a little on the chubby side as a kid, but mainly from eating well from backhome. I like to think he was born in the Canopian kingdom, but just has blood in other places he just hasn’t known or seen yet. It would make sense to the Geatish Trepak or Norse / Viking inspired moves to the original Beowulf anyhow. He came to the Canopy Kingdom fresh out the humble life and immediately found himself attracted to the rough and tumble before being let into the wrestling federation to prove his skills.

I like to think either he got his pelt from a Wolf he grew up with that later died peacefully, or, he hunted when he was younger before seeing a wolf die at the end of the hunt. No use for wolf meat where he came from, and in anger at the loss of life, he skinned the wolf for its pelt and vowed to take its place instead. He’s vehement of animal rights, but also tries his best to be open to nature despite hunting as his ideology is to live off the land with just what he needs.

I wanna also say that where Beo grew up in may have a cultural practice where the people take the pelts of animals they use to represent themselves. Bears for patriarchs/matriarchs, weasels / rats for children, otters for teens, and so on so forth. The wolf pelt was taboo and he later used it in rebellion to what he saw in it. Another idea is that the wrestling federation also has animal gimmicks as a way of bringing in the crowd Ala “The man from outta nowhere / Down under.”

Actually has a secret pen name and writes critiques about Operas / musicals and has an appreciation for Jazz as well as the late Contiello  family. He has been known to show up, decked out, and seat himself in the best seat, only to scream at the singers / actors with critiques. “JEEZ, MARIA, CAN YOU SING ANY LOWER? I CAN’T HEAR YOU FROM THE BALCONY.” “HEY SKULLBETH, DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND BREAK A LEG WITH THAT CLASS ACT.” “YOU CALL THAT AN ARIA, I CALL THAT DIAR–” Of course no one expects this, so, the surprise comes in the form of a well made, thought out essay based on the finer points of the actions and tribulations the actors did or sang. He’s also a stickler for analysis!

The Hurting was actually a parting gift from the local wrestling federation: Just like Hrunting was given to him by Unferth, The Hurting was given to Beowulf by his old sleazy manager where ironically, hasn’t proven unuseful to this day

Immediately and utterly distracted by dogs, he can’t help it. He’s consumed with love over them and would postpone a battle just to pet one.

Unlike the public opinion, he has a master’s degree in English as well as Sociology, though, he’s not one to flex the brain muscles because he has to maintain the psyche of a warrior half the time. This is why he always whispers when fighting with people, while also pretending wrestling is “real” and “isnt”, he’s more focused on maintaining character

Grendel can in fact hear everything Beowulf is saying pre-Marie death, however, all he hears is Beowulf’s fighting quotes: “RUNNIN’ WILD, ALL’S CHAIR, TAKE A LOAD OFF!” (I have a comic planned for this lol)

Grendel’s arm is partially sentient, though he can hear and act, he still gets where his “friend” is coming from time to time. 

The Hurting gets reupholstered time to time, lots of fashion choices to be really honest, too little time to decide.

Unironically, Beowulf actually digs wearing skimpy clothes / speedos when weather permitting / in the mood, however… He doesn’t understand the social aspects of one, so, one he ran into the ring in a regular wrestling speedo and well… Let’s just say there’s a reason the beta drew that ONLY.

Went to college with Adam Kapowski, though, he mainly spoke to him over complaining about his physical education courses / wrestling club “Look, man, I got this cute professor but like, he doesn’t know jack shit over suplexing. Why? BECAUSE EVEN VICTORIA CAN SUPLEX ME BETTER THAN HE CAN”

Has once met Ms. Victoria during his offseason time when retired and she thought he was a villain when he applied to be a librarian, however, when she shows up as D. Violet, and scopes him out “closing” up, she finds him… Bench pressing book cases before she hurries back, still very concerned over the fact that she has to share her students with a supposed gigan wrestler.

Children flock to him for advice and training, and he loves it. When working as a librarian, he would help tutoring or cheer on students, as well as the whacky prank of stealing the janitor’s mop and mobile and would ride it down the halls with the kids. 

When time came to retire out of retirement, the kids came together and made him a botched card thanking him for all he did. Later, he would return to the ring and dedicate his first match to those very kids, and Ms. Victoria, who all sat in the front seats to the match, each with free Wulf™ merch.

Victoria respects him after this, though, she believes he may just be the silliest warrior to show up. D.Violet though has an unrequited crush on him. I’m tickled to fathom they maybe get married, but Beo isn’t one for really being tied down as he is now.

I’m biased to saying he marries me, but hey, that’s not what this post is about: Relationship wise, Beo is fine with no ring, but he’s not much for the ball and chain. He likes to build things up slow and steady, and extremely affectionate due to not receiving that love as much before.

Despite his exterior, his chest hair is like, soft af. Arm hair though isn’t easy and lemme tell you, dude is hairy everywhere. So, he makes it a point to not care and just trim the beard here and there. Also made a very bad commercial about hair loss and body hair despite the fact he doesn’t have those issues.

His hair is super curly so he just brushes it to the side. That’s it. That’s the goddamn cowlick hair cut we all love

Is the only one to know Annie’s true self, but pretends not to for the sake of being another “dumb mortal”. He implies he knows Annie isn’t the same Annie as “before”, but only to draw her ire. At the end of the story line, though, Annie and him grow closer enough that he admits his knowledge and Annie becomes his wingman and bro. 

And I mean bro as in, homegirl screens all would be dates / gf / bf and also manages to make time to meet at their favorite local diner. She hates the amount of hate he gets time to time for being “basic” but she herself is your run of the mill “anime magical girl”. Annie chalks it up to the fact no one cares about talent anymore, but Beowulf still believes Annie has some talent left in her, despite her not seeing it. It’s one of those key reasons she’s very big on his wellbeing: He trusts and believes in her when not many people do. They just believe in the girl of the stars, not Annie.

Annie likes to WHUMP her face on him when embarrassed, and many a time people have walked into his chest or abs because he’s 6′7″ HE’S A FUCKING GIANT. He doesn’t mind it, in fact, he’s flattered by it on the inside ‘cuz he’s a smug Wulf.

Annie, after about 2 weeks being his best friend, cracks many raunchy jokes with him, though, he also brags about certain things he knows she probably won’t experience to her dismay. “Man, Annie, I would have really taken you out to the bar, but oh, I forgot, they don’t serve children!” “Wulf, you’re lucky a 12 year old can’t stab a middle aged man.” “Excuse me princess, would you like another helping of Dinosaur nuggets and fries?”

Tired Wulf Boi Curls Up and Sleps

Cried because he saw those ASPCA commercials

Would fuck a werewolf. Would fuck a monster for the ride of his life. Would also have the gas running and the car ready in case you need the body hid. He’s a ride or die sort of dude, he makes it known when you wake him up too early without context.

“Oh, gosh, golly, gee” is something he copies from Annie time to time

Struggles also, not to curse around her. Dick-tionary, Ass-ets, Douche-Nozzler the gobbledygook. All Annie™ words.

Broke a laptop just by touching it, can now hold a toaster in his hands.

Would not get the reality of wearing a collar. “Wow, you must have a nice do–”

Is still waking up each morning ready to find and craft his purpose in life. He’s used to it not knowing, but he’s clearing his head so far

[bibbykins]

Request from anonymous 41+50| Jungkook 41. "How can you still look so attractive while crying?" 50. "Oh God, I need a drink." The rain was pouring down relentlessly as the taxi briskly made way to your designated location, the dreaded location, a bachelorette party. You were a bridesmaid for your ex's wedding. Ironic, isn't it? You were a terribly kind person. Always smiling, always agreeable, always "fine, really".  Your breakup with the groom was amicable. You loved Jimin, but he just didn't love you, he loved Areum, a good friend of yours. It made sense, she was everything you weren't, and Jimin wasn't that into anything you were. Areum squealed in delight when you told her about the split. She wasn't exactly smart socially or mentally. She was selfish. You envied that. "Miss?" You looked at the Taxi driver, the car now in a full stop, rain the only sound heard for just a moment before he spoke again, "There's a man offering to pay for the ride if he can hop in, is that alright." You nodded, "Yeah, no problem, I'm sure there are  no vacant taxis with this crazy weather on a Saturday." You smiled as the cab driver nodded at the open passenger window, presumably to the man as a signal to get in. The door opened and you saw one of the last people you wanted to see, the only person you could say no to, "Oh fuck me." You groaned upon seeing his face. "Is that an invitation, babe?" Jungkook chuckled as he closed the door, "What are the odds of us being in the same taxi to the same place?" "Well Areum though it would be, 'Like so cute,' if she surprised Jimin at his bachelor party," You explain, mocking her forced valley girl voice, "So, surprise?" Jungkook looked at you almost admirably. You had known Jungkook since high school, but he was no friend. He was an annoying guy who cheated off of you in chemistry sophomore year, both in college and high school, yet beat up anyone who tried to take advantage of you. He was seldom nice to you, but he made sure nobody was ever mean to you. "How do you do it?" "What?" "How do you end up doing this romantic comedy melodrama crap?" Jungkook questioned as he began chipping at your army. It's what he did best. He could always get you to admit how you felt, "I mean bridesmaid to the bitchy fianceè of your ex? Come on." You shrugged, "Maybe I'll get a happy ending then." "With Jimin?" Jungkook stopped himself from seething at the prospect. To his relief, you scrunched your nose in disgust, "Hell no, especially not after the show Areum is going to give him tonight." The cab halted in front of thw bar as Jungkook handed the driver his card, "Hot striptease?" You opened the door, "It sure is meant to be hot." You mused as you left the cab. ---- Gee by SNSD played as the obscenely drunk whooped and hollered while the moderately sober, such as yourself, watched in fascinated terror as Areum began her lap dance on the drunk Jimin to the beat of a fairly innocent song that you vowed to never listen to again. It was in that moment that you realized Jimin genuinely preferred such idiocy over you. You weren't that terrible, you didn't grind on him to an unsexy song unironically, you didn't force an accent in your voice, and you sure didn't talk about the animal ears you put on him in the bedroom like she did, not that you ever used animal ears in the bedroom at all. Were you that insufferable? It was in that moment that your eyes began to flood with self-pity, self-loathing, and lack of self-esteem. You were painfully sober and crying at a bachelorette party. You didn't know which part of that sentence was most pathetic. "Oh God, I need a drink," Jungkook joined you at the bar, plopping himself on a stool, motioning to the bartender for a beer, "I was hoping for hot, but I'm nowhere near drunk enough to..." He trailed off when he saw you frantically wiping your cheeks, a familiar sight that made him hurt, "Shit, y/n." He sighed as you sniffled. You used your hand to block your face from him, "She's everything I'm not, isn't she?" "Yep," Jungkook confirmed and panicked when he heard a light sob come from your mouth, "She's terrible, so what does that say about you?" "I'm even worse?" You sniffled. Jungkook rolled his eyes, grabbing you hand and turning your chair so that you faced him, "Fucking-" He stopped, his other hand going to cup your cheek as his thumb wiped stray tears, "How can you still look so attractive while crying?" It was your turn to roll your eyes, "Shut up, Jungkook, I'm too melodrama rom com right now, don't tease me-" "Kiss me." "What? Jungkook, how does that-" He cut you off by placing his lips on yours. It was firm, gentle, passionate, and perfect. You were too sober to even try to deny it. This was a long time coming, and you were finally ready for it. You kissed back with a force and Jungkook laced his fingers with the hand he was initially holding down. He was the first to break the kiss, "You want to get even more rom-com?" He breathed, his forehead on yours as the second of the striptease, OK by Strawberry Milk blasted, making you both pause for a second to laugh, "I've liked you since sophomore year when I punched the guy who made you do his history project, but I've loved you since I introduced you to Jimin all those years ago, because I wanted my friends to know the girl that I've cherished for the longest time, the girl that I would copy off of because that's the only excuse I had to talk to you," He kissed you again, "Areum is everything you're not, because you're the best person to grace this world, and so many people are too stupid to see it." "Areum is a real catch-" "She's taking off her shirt to one of the purest songs in existence." "Nobody's perfect." Jungkook shook his head, "Come on, you're setting me up here," He kissed you quickly, "You're perfect," This time he kissed you deeply, and you genuinely were more than fine, really. //SEND ME A PROMPT # + A MEMBER AND I'LL WRITE A DRABBLE FOR IT//

[edelwoodsouls]

Over the Rainbow

I saw Spider-Man: Homecoming on Thursday and this fic idea hasn’t let me go since. It’ll probably become a series/multi-chapter later on. Please comment, I’d love to know what you think!

Tags: Trans Peter Parker, Bisexual Peter Parker, Panromantic Michelle Jones, Gay Ned Leeds, Bisexual May Parker, Pride, Everyone is LGBTQ+ okay, Pre-relationship,

Word Count: 2139

Also on Ao3

"I'm really sorry, dude."

Peter can feel his heart sinking already; he knows exactly what Ned is about to say.

"My mom forgot to tell me we're going to see my gran today," Ned continues, "and I can't get out of it."

Peter swallows before he can say what's on his mind. They both know that the last minute nature of this trip is entirely planned on Ned's mom's part, but neither of them can bring themselves to voice it.

"I'm so sorry, Peter. I really wanted to be there."

"It's fine, Ned," Peter manages, pressing the phone hard to his ear as he swings down from his bed. "I'll take loads of pictures for you."

"Be careful out there."

"I will."

The call ends, and Peter only just resists the urge to throw his phone at something.

He's been looking forward to New York Pride for months, ever since he came out to Aunt May last year. Until then he'd been too afraid of being caught there, of being outed before he was ready.

Last year seems like decades ago; so much has changed since then.

His outfit sits inocuously on his desk chair - a pink, white and blue striped t-shirt and black shorts; cans of pink, blue and purple hairspray - with Ned's rainbow shirt hanging behind it. Suddenly the clothes seem less appealing than before.

He could just not go. That might be easier than going alone. Besides, he wouldn't have to deal with the crowds and overwhelming loud noises, which make his ears ache and the world seem to close in on him, ever since the spider bite. Really, going to pride doesn't make much sense in his situation.

Except the parade passes right by his apartment. He remembers how painful it was to watch the rainbow flags and cheering people, so close yet so inaccessible to him, year after year. He wants to be out there, with people who understand him, not set back right where he was before. And he did say he was going to get pictures for Ned - his best friend will be able to tell if he took them from his own window rather than ground level.

"Peter?" Aunt May's voice startles him, and he realises he's been staring morosely out of the window for a good five minutes. "I thought you and Ned were planning to leave early. Won't you miss the beginning of the parade?"

He turns to look at his aunt, so open and smiling, brow furrowed with worry for him which only increases when she sees what he imagines is his crestfallen expression. She's been nothing but supportive since he came out - saving up for hormones, researching and buying the safest binders - and he can't believe he was ever scared to hide himself from her.

Before he realises it, he's crying.

Aunt May is across the room in seconds, wrapping him in a hug as he sinks onto his bed. "Hey," she soothes, "it's okay, Peter. What's wrong?"

"Ned- he, uh," Peter feels anger well up inside himself, whether at Ned's mom for all the homophobic shit she puts Neds through, or himself for crying, he can't tell. "He can't come to pride. We were- we were to do this together."

Aunt May's arms tighten around him. "Is it his mom?" She takes his silence has confirmation. "You know, I've always thought that woman needed a good slap back to reality. I've got half a mind to go over there right now and-"

"No," Peter interrupts immediately, then winces at the force in his voice. He extricates himself from the hug, wiping away his tears in frustration. "Sorry. It's just, uh, getting involved isn't the best idea. The only reason they haven't fought about it is because they've never acknowledge it, like, verbally. Confronting her about it would only make it worse for Ned."

"Well," she sounds unsure, placing a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder, "he's always welcome here. I don't think it's healthy for him to live in that sort of environment."

Peter nods shakily. Before he came out to his aunt, he and Ned would fantasise about running away together, somewhere where no one knew them. Somewhere where Ned could kiss a guy and people would walk on by because it was nothing out of the ordinary. Somewhere where no one remembered Peyton Parker. Peter always liked the idea of moving to the Gay Kingdom of the Coral Sea, but the idea of spiders the size of his face freaked him out too much.

Oh, the irony.

"So why aren't you ready?"

"Huh?" Peter blinks, looking at his aunt like she's grown a second head.

She stands up and grabs one of the cans of hairspray, shaking it vigorously. "How much of this stuff do you need?"

An hour later his hair is an impressive mix of colour, and there's glitter everywhere. Literally everywhere. In his hair, stuck in stripes to his cheeks, all over his hands and arms. Aunt May has sprayed her hair too, painted her nails, and dug out a tie-dye sun dress from years ago.

He's just about ready to go when she shoves a large rainbow flag into his hands. "I bought you this yesterday, and forgot to give it to you."

Peter's eyes widen, and he throws his arms around her. "Thank you so much aunt May. I love you."

She grins widely, taking him in as they stand by the doorway. "Your parents would be so proud of you, y'know." She says it quietly, smile flickering, and Peter can feel his cheeks heat in a mix of pride and overwhelming sadness.

Aunt May shakes her head as if to clear it, smile back full force. "Let's go, or we'll miss it."

It's three in the afternoon before Peter gets another chance to breathe. He and Aunt May end up catching the parade half-way through its route, cheering on floats of rainbows and glitter explosions, flowers and flags, and a few appearances of the Babadook, which takes him a good ten minutes to explain to his aunt. After that they're quickly caught up in an impromptu dance party in the park, then taking photos with and for groups of strangers who smile and wave and joke like they've known them their whole lives.

Peter has never felt more comfortable in his own skin. Every time he sees a trans flag his heart feels a hundred times lighter, and he goes out of his way to high five the people carrying them. It's probably a hundred degrees outside, too hot for anyone to reasonably be doing anything, yet he feels as if he could run a marathon or fight off an army. He sees a guy dressed in nothing but his binder and shorts and wishes he had the confidence to do that too; maybe one day soon, he thinks.

They stop to get sandwiches, and lay out the rainbow flag to sit on. His chest is aching and he knows he should probably take the binder off soon, but he doesn't ever want to leave the park. If only every day could be this open, this happy - he's pretty sure he hasn't stopped grinning since the morning started.

"Hey, Aunt May, I'm gonna go get a badge. There's a stall just over there."

She sits up, blinking the sun out of her eyes. "Okay - get me a bi one?"

Peter blinks at her as she laughs at his vaguely stunned expression. After a moment he echoes her wide grin with one of his own, jumping up from the grass. "Sure thing, aunt May!"

He can still hear her laughter as he runs.

There are a few people crowded around the stall, picking out badges of all sorts. There are ones for every flag he can think of, ones for preferred pronouns, and various pop culture ones. He slows down to a walk, trying to decide which badges he should go for, when he hears one of the people behind the table talking.

"Sign our petition for permanent gay and trans pride crosswalks in New York? It's a show of solidarity from the city which will not only support the LGBTQ+ community, but also really piss off the homophobes."

The crowd of people part slightly, and Peter does a double take, because there's Michelle, hair as wild as usual but dyed in rainbow colours, wearing an oversized t-shirt with a pink, yellow and blue heart on the front - it's weird to see her wearing actual colour for once - her face open and earnest as she shakes a petition clipboard at someone.

The person in front of her takes her proffered pen, and Michelle looks up smugly, her eyes catching his and widening in surprise. "Peter?"

He feels almost - vulnerable as he watches her eyes take in the colours of his t-shirt and hair, but walks closer despite his heart thundering at a hundred miles per hour. In the last few months he's come to consider her a friend, and since she only came to their school in sophomore year she never knew him when he was still in the closet.

His fear is quickly assuaged as she smiles at him - a genuine, unironic smile which he doesn't think he's ever seen on her; it softens the hard, confrontational edge she usually exudes.

"What can I get you?" she shakes a jar of badges.

"Could I get a male pronoun one? And two bi?"

She rattles the jar around, fingers digging through them to find the badges he's requested, and he takes the time to look through the ones already displayed on the table.

His eyes are drawn to a set of rainbow flag badges, each with a different Avenger on them, and he can't help but smile.

Michelle clears her throat and presses four badges into his hand with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow. He looks down: she's given him an extra one, rainbow with Spider-Man's mask on it.

His eyes widen, and he stares at her, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Wha-"

"Hey, Andy, can you cover for me?" Michelle hands the jar of badges to the guy next to her as Peter drags her behind the stall.

"How long have you known?"

"Seriously, Peter?" she rolls her eyes, entire body exuding sarcasm once again. "You're hardly subtle. You're constantly disappearing. You 'know' Spider-Man. Spider-Man vanished when you lost the Stark internship - I mean, the entire world knows that Tony Stark is Iron Man, the head of the Avengers. You finally get the date you wanted, only to bail, and your girlfriend's dad gets arrested courtesy of Spider-Man that same night?"

"Okay, but-"

"Plus you and Ned talk really loudly. Like, seriously, anyone at that party could've heard you."

"You've known since the party?" he splutters.

"I was right behind you buttering toast, dude. Just be glad it was me, not Flash, or everyone would've known."

He feels like he should be more freaked out about this turn of events, but instead he finds himself only vaguely resigned about it, and more relieved that he doesn't have to lie to her, especially since they've been hanging out more recently. He should've guessed that she knew, really, considering how observant she is.

"So are you gonna take the badge?"

"Huh?" He looks down at the badge, feeling a strange warmth at the sight of it. "I didn't know Spider-Man is an LGBT icon."

"Anyone can be an LGBT icon unless explicitly stated otherwise. Who better to look up to than the superheroes who keep us safe?"

"That's... a really inspiring way of looking at things."

"Why thank you."

They stand for a moment in silence and, for once, Peter doesn't feel the need to fill it with noise. It's comfortable; safe.

"So where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Ned? He, uh- he's still kinda in the closet with his mom."

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah."

For a moment Michelle looks uneasy, like she's trying to decide whether or not to say something.

"My shift ends in half an hour," she says eventually.

"I'll be there. We can get ice-cream - or something?" Now Peter feels unsure; he's never been sure when it comes to girls in any respect.

"Awesome." She sounds as relieved as he feels. "I'll see you then."

As she's slipping back into the tent, Peter calls out to her. "Hey, MJ - uh, me and Ned are doing a Sense 8 marathon this evening, if you want to come?"

Her face splits into a smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Peter spends the next half an hour grinning, butterflies in his stomach that he can't quite understand, and though he can feel Aunt May's amused, suspicious gaze on him, he feels higher than the clouds.

[skeletorific]

How would their S/O comfort the UT, US, UF, SF and, MT (MafiaTale) skelebros and Napstablook on bad depression days?

UT!Sans: Don’t harass him, but…..don’t leave him alone. He’s going to want to isolate, to withdraw from all contact. Don’t let him. You don’t need to fill every silence, it would only annoy him or make him feel worse when he sees how hard you’re trying for someone like him. Just be with him. Turn on a movie. Read a book while he does his own thing. Lean against his shoulder and take a nap. That physical presence, that reminder that he isn’t alone and that there’s someone who knows him well enough to seek him out….it means a lot to him.

UT!Papyrus: To the rest of the world, the Great Papyrus doesn’t HAVE bad days! But to you….well, no one’s happy all the time. But you’re going to have to know Papyrus pretty well before you pick up when he’s having a low tank day. Even Sans can’t pick up on it 100% of the time. He’s not the only one who can fake a good smile. But when you start spotting the signs…ask him to help you with something. It doesn’t have to be big, just “can you grab that for me?” or “hey, could use your help with dishes”. Ask him to explain his puzzles to you. He wants to feel needed, competent. He wants to be taken seriously.

UT!Napstablook: Just little reminders that you think of them go a million miles. Sending a text with a song you thought they’d like. Showing up at their house uninvited. Because the idea that they’re not an annoyance, that you actually think about them and enjoy their company……its baffling to them but it picks them up a lot. Mettaton will be your best ally in this. Cuddle the ghost. 

UF!Sans: Low levels of physical touch. Don’t tackle-hug him, but put a hand on his shoulder in passing. Kiss his cheekbone without warning.Grab his hand and squeeze it. Its not often that he feels safe. Also, if its at all possible, let him kind of crash the day of. He’ll already be doing that, but maybe join him. Also, don’t talk about the problem with him. He will shut down and just bury it deeper. If he feels like talking he will, but in general just let it be kind of an understood thing. 

UF!Papyrus;…….He may lowkey need some aggressive cuddles. Like, make sure his schedule’s clear (or he’s going to hate you for it), and then insist that he lie down for a bit. I don’t care if you use deceit, hog-tie him to the bed, or what,  but get him to lie down and then wrap your arms around him and refuse to move for a few hours. He will complain, threaten, and tell you its pointless, but after the first hour he’ll relax into it a bit more. He’ll tell you he’s doing this for your sake, but its the most relaxed he’s been in a while, and it gets him to a better place. After a few hours, ask him to cook for you. He loves doing that, and he loves feeling like you need him. Just make sure he doesn’t drug you on accident.

UF!Napstablook: Not an easy spook to comfort, they’re a massive asshole. They will rebuff any cuddling and sneer at any attempts to talk it out. They also don’t like an overabundance of company. Fastest way to lift their spirits? Ask them for song recommendations. They consider themselves a connoisseur, but nobody else thinks so. Being treated as an authority is more gratifying than they will ever admit. Hope you like screamo, emo rock, and unironic trap music.

US!Sans: He doesn’t have them often, but he always feels kind of guilty when he has low days. Isn’t he supposed to be the cheerful one? The ray of sunshine that helps everyone else? Its a service he’s happy to provide but he and everyone else have come to expect it of him 24/7 and it can really wear him down. Go on a jog with him. For once he’ll be willing to accommodate his pace to you, but exercising together always gets him to a good place (not to mention the endorphins from it). Once you’ve run for a while he’s usually pretty open to discuss what’s bothering him. He may need to vent a little, he may need some help to solve a problem, but either way he needs to talk it out a bit away from his brother and Alphys and everyone else. You will be repaid in hugs later.

US!Papyrus: He’s a pretty verbal guy. Its easier for him to deal with things once he gets the chance to talk it out. Get him alone, bring him some food, and just ask him what’s going on with him. More often than not he’ll be pretty honest about it. Just listen for a while. Contribute if you so desire, but honestly he’ll talk himself in a circle until he either gets to the heart of what’s bothering him or has vented enough that he feels better. Then just sit in his lap for a bit and let him stroke your hair. You will always get a good massage out of the deal. Seeing you relaxed helps him out a lot. 

US!Napstabot: They may be the diva of the Underground but they’re still A Napsta. Their self-esteem usually isn’t at its best. So being their cheer squad is a pretty good way to snap them out of a funk. Be really enthusiastic about what they’re wearing. Find something specific in one of their songs to rave about. Show up at one of their concerts and be the one cheering the loudest. You have no idea how good it will make them feel. They will be wrapped around you in a tight adoring hug after the show. You really are a sweetie, aren’t you?

SF!Sans: Its ironic for the loudest skeleton of them all, but honestly he could just use some peace and quiet. Remove some stressers from his environment. Any work he has gets conveniently put out of his line of sight. Slim doesn’t smoke in the house today. And what’s this? He gets home and you just happen to be on the couch, with Teacup, and a bunch of blankets, and there just happens to be room for another? What bizarre coincidence. The important thing is to never let him know this is because you’re sensing he’s having a low day. He hates feeling pitied. Just coax him under the blankets, somehow convince him he doesn’t have anything better to do, and slip in a few well-placed compliments. He will be putty in your hands and back to his usual self in no time. 

SF!Papyrus: He’s probably the most upfront about his needs once he hits the Surface. His “subtle” way of letting you know its a low kind of day is trapping you in bed to cuddle with him. All you really need to do is stay, but bring him some syrup and pet his head and he will be more in love than ever. He doesn’t like to talk much about it and just kind of wants to nap it off, but he likes having you around him. If he can’t sleep just tell him about your day for a bit, some childhood stories, anything as long as its not about how he’s feeling right then. 

SF!Napstabot: They likes to kind of vent their sadness out through a safer medium. Throw on a sad movie. Not one of theirs, please, stars, they will be too busy cringing at their own acting. Just something to get them crying. It feels good in a bizarre way. (Keep a repair kit on hand, it has a tendency to fry their circuits a bit). Afterwards, some hugs and a bit of validation from you. They need it a lot. 

MT!Sans: Call Asgore and get him to give Skull the day off, or its gonna be work as usual. He may throw up a bit of a fuss about how he’s fine, but he’ll be relieved. After that, backrubs and some good strong tea. Maybe a few compliments. Don’t get too flirty or he switches into seduction mode which he really doesn’t have the energy for. Just some innocent little comments. Maybe a good glass of Scotch, but don’t let him get drunk, that just throws him straight back. 

MT!Papyrus: Unlike with his brother, romance this skeleton. Nothing picks hi up better than a bunch of roses and you in a cute outift, waiting for him at the end of the day. Convince him to go out with you if you can, take him dancing, and sing to him a bit. He doesn’t care if your voice is the most off-key abomination the world has ever known, its just a really sweet gesture. Lucky is a sucker for old-style romance, and he’s never felt more adored. 

MT!Napstablook: They’re pretty similar to Tale Napstablook. Maybe take them to go see a jazz band or two. Find them a secluded spot where they don’t feel too crowded or noticeable, and wrap your arms around them while they listen to the music. They may cry a little at how nice you’re being, but just reassure them occasionally that you’re doing this because you love them, not because you’re being forced to. 

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Roll Out the Red Carpet: It’s Time for the Annual Secret-Diary Awards

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS FINISHES ON A REALLY BLEAK NOTE

So, with Xmas gone and just a few days until New Year, 2019 is staggering to a richly-deserved close.. which means it’s time to look back and hand out some entirely hypotherical awards to people and cultural products that don’t know I exist and wouldn’t care if they did. It’s fair to say this year has been a mixed bag of the transcendent and the appalling. Kind of like a sandwich bag full of ferrero roche and cat sick. Without further ado, it’s time to rummage through that bag and pull out the most succulent chocolates and the most nauseating lumps of vomit to give them their fifteen minutes of ill-founded notoriety.

The Jason Voorhees Award for Best New Horror Villain... ... Goes to the kid from Brightburn (who eventually becomes known as Brightburn himself, incidentally). In the 70s and 80s it was easy to grab attention as a horror movie antagonist, because there wasn’t a huge amount of competetion. Jason himself bludgeoned his way into the public’s heart and the collective cultural unconscious just by being unkillable and refreshingly workmanlike in his approach to homicide. Freddie grabbed attention with a nothing more than some surreal nightmare sequences and a glove with knives on it. Nowadays, the standard’s much higher. Luckily, Brightburn brought something fresh to the table: all the powers of Superman combined with the moral compass of a drugged-up rock musician. I, for one, look forward to his next murder project and/or concept album.

The ‘Dog With its Head Trapped in a KFC Bucket’ Award for Most Self-Defeating Move of the Year... ... Goes to the British public, who had an election this year in which they were invited to choose between a kindly older gent who wanted to renationalise the railways and ensure the survival of the NHS and a drivel-spouting upper-class buffoon who wants to destroy the NHS, destroy traveller communities, antagonise the E.U. and repeal the laws that protect against animal cruelty. The British people chose the upper-class buffoon, because (and I have to admit that I’m guessing here, but it’s an educated guess) THEY’RE GIBBERING FUCKWITS DEVOID OF BOTH COMMON SENSE AND EMPATHY.

The ‘I Told You So Award’ for Most Comprehensively Murdered Franchise... ... Goes to Terminator: Dark Fate. The Terminator films have always made intelligent use of both male and female leads, balancing the need for a feminine narrative voice against the fact that their audience are mainly there to see big manly, macho robots beat nine shades of crap out of eachother. In an effort to appear ‘woke’ (to use the parlance of today’s hot young bell-ends), Terminator: Dark Fate elected to sideline the big, manly macho robots in favour of three female leads, only one of whom was Jamie Lee Curtis. This failure to accept that the audience for the Terminator films is mainly men who want to imagine themselves as unstoppable robot killing machines pretty much lead to the film bombing at the box office. The lesson to be learned here is that NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO VIRTUE SIGNAL HOW GENDER-PROGRESSIVE IT IS EVERY FIVE MINUTES. Of course, media comentator types have been groping for literally any other reason the film might have failed miserably, but it’s a losing battle: I’m pretty sure even that one with Christian Bale made money, and that was bloody terrible. No disrespect to Dark Fate director Tim Miller, though: he needs to do something with his time in between Deadpool films and it might as well be going from ailing franchise to ailing franchise, putting them out of their misery like an endless succession of Old Yellers.

The Andrea Dworkins Dancing Naked On a Plinth Award for Best Actually Good Woke Movie... ... Goes to The Perfection (spoilers ahead), a film about two classical musician ladies taking a brutal and harrowing revenge on the misogynistic, overprivileged man who destroyed their lives. Easily one of the best films to emerge in 2019, it’s one of only two films I’ve ever described as ‘transcendent’ (unironically). The Perfection is shocking, brutal and feminist in a way that suggests that the writer might actually know what feminism is and what movie writing is- which makes it pretty much unique in the current era of self-consciously progressive films.

The Most Needlessly Elongated Process Award... ... Goes to the impeachment of Obvious Criminal Donald Trump, which is still going on at the time of writing. He worked with hostile foreign powers in order to cheat in his election, he’s boasted about sexually abusing women and he’s the most singularly incompentent, dangerous imbecile in the history of American politics. Just fucking arrest the guy already. How long does it take to get one flatulent old crook into a prison cell? Has he fucking superglued his feet to the floor of the white house or something? HURRY THE FUCK UP!

The Most Painfully Ironic Celebrity Death Award... ... Goes to Carroll Spinney, who gave movement and life the Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch puppets on Sesame Street then died of a degenerative, neurological movement disorder that slowly robbed him of the ability to move his own body. There’s not a lot I can do to make that funny, other than point out the bizarre irony of that coincidence. As far as I’m aware, he was a lovely man who brought joy to thousands of children and dim adults. Definitely worth raising a glass to this New Year’s Eve. It’s just sad for him that he died in a bleakly funny way and therefore ended up in my end-of-year roundup. What a way to finish a rich and fulfilling career. Poor bloke.

The Special ‘Band of the Year’ Award... Goes to The Orion Experience, who actually disbanded quite some time before 2019. However, I only discovered them this year, so I’m giving them the shoutout they so richly deserved, several years ago... when it might have helped. They’re great: a camp, New Romantic sound combined with clever lyrics and deliciously inventive song concepts make them one of the best modern bands I’ve ever had the good fortune to stumble across.

The ‘Chrissy Metz Goes on a Diet’ Award For Worst Thing to Have Happened to an Unsuspecting Planet... ... Goes to Hellboy (2019), which came out at the start of the year and set a high-sewage mark for general awfullness. It was a bafflingly, determinedly bad film in which characters simply stated their feelings rather than emoting, musical cues were misdeployed and wasted and the plot meandered from one bloated set-piece to another without ever feeling big or meaningful. To describe it as a shit-burg floating in a sea of lukewarm cum would be to insult shit and cum. I’ve had eight months and I still can’t get over how bad it is.

The Hellboy 2019 Award for Second Worst Thing to Have Happened to Unsuspecting Planet... ... Goes to Chrissy Metz’ diet. Yeah. She went on a diet. She’s shrunk. Don’t google it: it looks exactly as pathetic, miserable and depresing as you’d expect- another plus-size celebrity knuckling under to the pressure to lose weight and not even being good at it. If I’m ever famous, remind to use my position to elevate some actual motherfucking feedees to the status of cultural icons, just so we get some fat celebrities who actually stay fat.

The Arnold Rimmer Award for most Gratuitous Act of Cowardice... ... Goes to Prime Minister Boris “My Second Name Means Penis” Johnson, who, in the run-up to the election chose to hide in a fridge rather than be interviewed by Piers Morgan. This is particularly funny because Piers Morgan is a toothless, name-dropping suck-up who doubtless would have given the Prime Minister an easy ride while making big, goopy heart-eyes at him and fantasising about how he’ll be able to boast to his friends that he’s met BoJo, the Amazing Guffing Head of State. Maybe Johnson just correctly surmised that if he was in the same room as Morgan, the Craven Bullshit Density (or CBD) would be so high that the universe would implode.

The Dianne Abbot Award For Sexiest Older Black Lady in a Serious Cultural Product... ... Goes to Octavia Spencer, who played Psycho-Cougar Sue Ann in the psychological horror film Ma and who did a great turn as a emotionally manipulative, possesive, terrifying and yet strangely sympathetic borderline sociopath... whom I would definitely have had sex with, given half a chance.

The UK Postal Service Award for Most Delayed Cultural Event.. ... Goes to the arrival of Rick and Morty Series 4, which finally arrived on screens after years trapped in a nightmarish labarynth of production issues, rights negotiations and (admittedly justified) showrunner perfectionism. I haven’t seen it yet, since there’s a very good chance that 2020 will be a barren wasteland in terms of televsion and I want to make sure I have at least one good thing to binge-watch during the early months of the year. However, I’ll give you my hot-take when I do get round to viewing it.

The Brian Cox’ Strip Tease Award for Loveliest Thing to Happen in 2019... ... Goes to TV magician Justin Willman, who, towards the end of this year, gifted the world with a second series of Magic For Humans, probably one of the funniest and most inherently well-meaning street magic telly series ever invented. Speaking as a magician, I have to say it’s nice to represented in the world of televsion by a warm-yet-snarky gad-about rather than pretentious mumbling toss-mage David Blaine.

The Special Award for Most Confusing and Alarming Year of the Decade... ... Goes to 2019 itself, which offered political hope only to snatch it away; produced some amazing films while continuing to shit out virtue-signalling dreck at the same time; and generally massaged us with one hand while slapping us with the other. In many ways, it was a year that refelected human nature itself. Earlier this year, angry arsehole commuters beat the crap out of Extinction Rebellion protestors who were trying to raise awareness of our planent’s ongoing ecological crisis from the roof of a London Underground train. And that about sums up the dichotomy of the human race for me: enlightenment and knowledge climbing high in the hope of broadcasting its message, only to be dragged down by an endless ocean or irredemable thick cunts who’d rather be complicit in the slow death of civilisation than be five minutes late for a job they don’t fucking like. And that’s why 2019 gets a booby prize: it was a year that embodied the brief rise of brilliance from a sea of grime while reminding us of how little that actually helps. Cheers!

So that’s it for 2019. The death of culture, political acumin and possibly the human race continues, though with the occasional high-point thrown in just to keep things interesting. I’ll see you bastards when it’s when it’s time for my New Year’s Resolutions Blog. Sorry that turned a bit bleak at the end, but in fairness, that only happened because I live in a terrible country during a terrible time in history.