#live action buggy is going to be the death of me and honestly I’m okay with that

[marvelwinchester67]

OPLA Buggy the Clown I salute you. You are the only reason my cousin is even considering watching the OPLA and One Piece anime and while I have no clue if she’ll actually follow through you still did your job🫡 thank you for your service clown

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. ��…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

[ghostmartyr]

Pokémon SoulSilver Randomized Nuzlocke [Part 1]

Since I haven’t fully learned from my mistakes, hey! It’s time for another Nuzlocke. With extra Randomizer action for reasons that are going to be very apparent as I go through this set’s rules.

I’m going to try what this person on the internet calls a Chainlocke, though with slight alterations for the sake of sanity; basic idea is that my catch Types have to be linked. If I catch a Grass/Poison pokemon, my next option has to have one of those in common.

That gets thorny really fast, which I guess is the point, but I’m more about wacky fun than serious challenges. So to make things more entertaining, I will be randomizing every pokemon in the wild, as well as NPC gifts and trades. All the other Trainers keep their original stuff. I get to be special.

So. Rules:

Only the first viable pokemon of each route may be caught.

Gift pokemon are cool to use.

In-game trades are also cool.

‘Viable’ in this case means that they must have a Type in common with the most recent caught pokemon.

The starter will be starting that chain despite not technically being caught by me. Because I feel like it.

Each pokemon must receive a nickname.

If a pokemon faints, it is considered dead. It will go in an appropriately named box in the PC.

In the event of a team wipe, the run will continue with whatever’s left (alive) in the PC.

And that’s about it. Let’s kick it.

No.

I can’t remember if this version does the all-caps for names or not. In any case, this protagonist avatar will take on the name Sunny. Because I am in a warm and welcoming mood, ready to make all the new creatures I encounter my friends.

I love how they have Lyra use the mail system.

Someone has to.

It certainly won’t be anyone playing these games.

Okay, based on how Lyra’s Marill is discussed, human names don’t get the all-caps treatment, but pokemon do. What does this mean for my nicknaming schemes? No idea. The hour is late and I don’t care enough.

-rubs hands together-

Hmmmm.

...

Dude.

Get out.

Hmmmm.

I can’t pick Cyndaquil, because what even is the point if I do that. Sableye I’ve never been so interested in as a true companion. Dewgong is fully evolved, and I hate starting out with that.

However.

I never get to use Dewgong.

Seel is never anywhere convenient.

DEWGONG WELCOME TO THE TEAM!

Shaped like a friend.

I haven’t worked out any particular theme for this run. I can name her whatever I want. I think I shall call her Chance.

Look at how cute she is. She is adorable. Sassy and highly persistent. I declare her perfect. She also knows Headbutt! That matters beyond being a cool move in this version! Much squeeing! She also knows Growl, Signal Beam, and Icy Wind.

My next pokemon will have to be Water or Ice. It will probably be Water, thanks to Water being absurdly common. That’s cool. I like Water pokemon.

And so, without yet being able to catch anything, I head out into the world. Running my obligatory fetch quest for Professor Elm.

Huh, a Smoochum says hello. That’s a good thing to know for later. But what’s in the Headbutt tree?

...A Hoothoot. Sigh. Well, one less thing to worry about when finding pokemon.

Weedle also lurks in the grass.

Yay. Gotta go fast.

Can I buy poke balls yet?

No. Sad face.

The next route has Kricketot. Did I check the similar strength button by accident?

Then suddenly, Grumpig! Okay, sweet. Just a few Buggy coincidences. Gligar is also here.

Literally have never heard of you. You have a boring name. No one should ever copy it ceaselessly for a gag that no one sees any value in.

Hello, a wild challenger approaches! With his super duper Totodile! Headbutt it, Chance. Headbutt it into submission. Good girl.

Uh. There’s not enough room for it.

Perfect.

I love how Silver’s most defining feature is his red hair.

After a short visit home to tell our mom we are far too irresponsible to be trusted with all of the money we’re going to earn from mugging other children, plus a short tutorial on catching things, we can finally get started!

Smoochum is the only thing available in the routes we’ve visited so far, but I haven’t checked out the northern one right outside the starting town yet.

But the walking takes the decision out of my hands! We encounter a level 4 Smoochum, and as per the rules, that is what I have to go for. Lest I kill the route.

...

I killed the Smoochum.

I guess that answers my question about its Typing. Ruh roh. Signal Beam was a mistake. For multiple reasons, now that I’m taking a second to think about it. Whoops. Any game that requires me to think is screwed from the start, honestly.

So now we search for something else to catch.

Route 46? Be nice?

Carvanha! That’s a Water! Can catch!

In theory. It’s broken out of two pokeballs. It’s also level 2, so I don’t think I can risk attacking it.

.I’m going to run out of balls, aren’t I?

I think I have to risk an Icy Wind. I’m on my last poke ball. I don’t really want to leave it purely up to the mood of the RNG.

Chance apparently doesn’t want friends.

She got a critical hit.

Two dead routes! Okay!

Still needing a Water or Ice Type!

Also more Poke Balls!

One of those problems I can fix. As for the other, inb4 the Mystery Egg and whatever I get from Bill are the only other teammates Chance ever has.

We march through the trainers between us and the next town. Certain of nothing but Chance’s ability to murder them all.

Route 31 has an Elekid as the first thing I see and the rules say I can’t catch it. What horrible person came up with this. Seviper and Lopunny are also here. Those I care less about.

Dark Cave? Help? Mayhaps?

A Golbat appears.

Okay.

Before we think too hard on that, I’ve gotta say that I do love how gen 4 does the caves. They are very gorgeously cavernous, and the few times I bother to think about the background art, I enjoy walking through them.

But yeah, is there anything in this cave that is not a Golbat?

Route 31 has a Butterfree.

These are things that do not help me.

The person who usually gives you an Onix for a Bellsprout in whatever this city is (Violet) offers a Corphish for a Kecleon. Things to keep in mind if I ever find a Kecleon. That I can catch.

In no version of this game have I ever done this egg thing. I was unaware there even was an egg thing, since anything that requires me to pick the right word out of the hat of words bores me to tears. Then I started watching too many people play Pokemon games on the internet.

-Googles how to get egg-

So normally, you can get a Mareep, Wooper, or Slugma. In the spirit of the Chainlocke, even though I said gifts were cool, we’ll take the Wooper egg. Vote now on whether or not it’ll actually be a Wooper. I don’t know how to use the Randomizer.

Hm. Iiiiiiinteresting.

Chance, Headbutt some trees on the off chance that a Water pokemon falls out, please.

It’s a Hoothoot.

I get the feeling that the Randomizer settings didn’t care about the pokemon found through Headbutting.

Route 32. Help.

Gligar. That is not help.

Rhydon is not help either. Likewise Torchic.

SQUIRTLE. THAT IS HELP.

...

...

...

Chance.

Why are you getting so many critical hits against your friends. Do you not want friends. Have I raised you to be so antisocial.

-sigh- Route 32 declared dead.

Ruins of Alph? Maybe you have someone Chance likes?

...

Why is Gligar everywhere.

I guess. I will go to the tower. With Chance. Just the two of us.

Plus the Gloom egg, which is looking like a very likely candidate for the only friend Chance will ever have. Besides the Mystery Egg we don’t have yet.

(Also Rock Smash HM get. Yaaaaay.)

Local level 11 Dewgong beats up 3 year-olds.

So many dead Bellsprout.

I haven’t run into any wild pokemon here, yet. Sadness. We will never know which new friend Chance was going to kill next.

SURPRISE!

It’s Medicham.

Chance kills it.

Partially because I can’t catch it anyway, partially because that is just what Chance does. Her sassiness belies her murderous intent.

Flash obtained with little fuss, and time to move on to Falkner. He of the coolest name. Yet another Gym Leader I wanted to be as a child. Even if he uses nothing but birds. Falkner is just the coolest name.

Oh, and it looks like there’s also Roselia in this tower.

I can’t do anything about it, but that’s nice.

I love how each generation of pokemon decides the Gyms need to be more extra.

They’re right and they should say it.

-five seconds later- Well that went by quickly. Good girl, Chance. Your murder spree continues. And our prize? Picking up the Mystery Egg! Which gets to be a genuine mystery for now! Chance! You might have a friend! In pure spite of your best efforts!

Time to spend an hour doing nothing but walking. I normally wouldn’t be so interested in hatching the eggs, but. I would kind of like to have a promise of Chance not being completely alone this entire game.

One down! His name is Cloud! He is... also Sassy (Chance, is this why you let him stay), level 1, and alert to sounds!

!

whatisitwhatisitwhatisitwhatisit

...Wow. Something I actually could have gotten legitimately in this Chainlocke. In theory. In a world where Chance is of slightly different temperament.

Her name shall be Sleet. She is Quiet and likes to run.

Hm.

I remain unsure if I’m going to actually use either of these new friends. The spirit of what I’m going for with this doesn’t really work with me just being handed two random Official Teammates. I might change my mind after a few more routes of things not going well for me, but for now, I think I’ll mostly stick to me and Chance.

..Though before I do..

They’re both level 1. I can be nice and not set them up for death. They can make it to level 5 before we say a cordial farewell. I can grind in this game. I can be nice.

-ten minutes later-

-tfw Ivysaur also lives on Route 32 because Route 32 is starter central-

Niceness done, let’s get on the road.

The road takes us, and our level 17 Dewgong, to Union Cave.

If you squint, this looks like fanart of a sleeping Sandslash.

Will we find the Water or Ice pokemon our team longs for here????

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Uh.

Let me look up the rules for evolving Feebas in this gen. Because Feebas is pure Water. If I can’t evolve it, I’m better off killing it so I have more options available with what I can catch.

...

The internet says I need eight massages from Daisy (Blue’s sister. in Pallet Town.) to max its Beauty so it can evolve.

Chance. just. just do the thing. we all know how this ends.

So dies Union Cave.

Awww, how cute. A Shaymin. Now just one of the many corpses littered at Sunny’s feet. Hariyama is also here. A floor below, it’s the return of Grumpig. Plus Yanmega for the first time. Girafarig.

-SIGH-

Route 33. Do you want to save us?

Weezing.

WHISCASH. GIMME. CHANCE, SWAP OUT AND LET CLOUD HELP.

AT LONG LAST.

WE HAVE.

THE CHAINLOCKE’S FIRST CATCH.

FLUDD, WELCOME TO THE TEAM!

NEXT CATCH?

WATER OR GROUND!

LET’S END IT THERE WHILE THINGS ARE STILL GOOD.