#rest in peace you glorious bastard

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I never really know quite what to say on this day; I normally just end up repeating myself. I've written fanfic for a lot of Rik Mayall's bastards, and I help run the Rik and Ade Fest, and I was editor of Scumbag Monthly for a long time - but all of these things come with a level of detachment from the man himself. Even the Rik zines we made especially for 9th June were like that.

I'd spend so long in the run up making the zines - and chasing after people to make sure they'd actually submit the pieces they'd said they would - that, when publication day came, the main things that stood out to me about those zines were what was missing and which of the pages I'd made looked a bit naff versus which ones were acceptable. I think - I hope - those zines had an impact on other people, that they made people emotional, but for me releasing them was more akin to ticking a box. It's not that I wasn't proud of them, but I'd been working on them for months in advance. I knew them inside out. It's not that I didn't mean the words I wrote, but I'd read and reread them so many times by 9th June - as well as the words everyone else had written. I wasn't going to get the emotional hit because I was the one doling that out to everyone else. Does that make sense?

For a significant portion of time, Rik Mayall took up a significant portion of my brain matter. It made sense: this was the first fandom I'd ever been properly active in, I'd made friends here, I'd started writing again, and then we were thrown into an international pandemic where there wasn't much else to do but go insane, one way or another. I've said before how I'll always be grateful to Rik for re-sparking my creativity. There's a domino effect that started with me first watching Bottom, which eventually led to me switching my entire uni direction around to pursue creative writing.

For the last year or so, things have been different. We're all multifaceted people, each with a wealth of contradictory and complimentary interests. There are other people and other interests that vye for the top spot in my brain these days.

That said, and the entire point of this bit of waffling being: I still love Rik Mayall. And I say that knowing how superficial it sounds, and I say it without worrying whether I still will in another 5 years - because I know I will. He was marvellous, and hilarious, and sexy. He made it feel okay to be a bit weird, okay to be a bit mad; he made you want a spot on whatever wave of excitement he was riding, like the world really was just waiting for you to live in it. He was human, and he was flawed, and he was bloody stupid sometimes, but that didn't stop him from leading a comedy revolution and making the world that bit brighter.

Rik should have had longer on the earth. The fact he's gone - and for 9 years now - will always be incredibly unfair to him and his loved ones. The rest of us are just blessed that, to paraphrase a certain spotty prick, we still have his poems. So long as he keeps us laughing, Rik will still be here in some way.

So, once again, here's to our eternal Lord of Misrule: Rik Mayall! ❤️

[ladytitanium]

3 years ago today, I lost my dad to covid. It feels like an eternity and also still like he could walk back through the door anytime.

Today, tell someone you love them, and tell a good story, and make some good-natured mischief.

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

May we all have a moment of silence for the ships that HeavyMedic slaughtered...

[deanwithscissors]

Summer Lovin’

Title: Home Sweet Home Timestamp

Pairing: Jensen X Reader

Word Count: 769

Warnings: Swearing, slight dirty talk, light teasing

Summary: Jensen interrupts [Y/N]’s peaceful afternoon in the sun

Home Sweet Home Masterlist

A/N: this is just some ramblings from when i was enjoying a day in the sun *all mistakes are mine* feedback is highly appreciated, but be kind<3

It was hard to believe that something so far away, to the point of not being able to comprehend the space between, could have such an affect on a being so insignificant and small.

The invisible sun rays scorched her epidermis, sizzling the fat below. Beads of sweat formed a line, marching down her back and between the folds of her skin as she sprawled on the sun lounger, allowing the blistering heat to engulf her and incinerate her woes.

The afternoon had been peaceful and rejuvenating, time alone to escape the real world in her very own private garden, exactly what she needed.

The glorious radiance had made her sleepy, her eyes hooded, struggling to stay open as she lightly drifted, completely oblivious to the foot steps approaching.

“Well, this is a treat to arrive home to,” Jensen said, a half smile plastered his face, his tongue slipping between his lips as he took in the sight of [Y/N].

She wore a tiny triangle, florescent-orange and sky-blue bikini top, her breasts spread; leaving her void of cleavage, but jam packed full of the roundest side boob that begged to be squeezed, maybe even bitten.

The brilliant white shorts revealed most of her dainty legs, but they rose high to her ribs, hiding her belly button piercing that he often liked to fiddle with.

Her feet were free with toenails painted white, her near neon hair down and flowing in the gentle breeze that stirred every so often.

“Jesus Christ [Y/N], you look—" his words were stolen as he swallowed his own tongue, a familiar itch rustling in his pants.

“Don’t ruin my peace Jensen.” She sighed, opening her eyes for the first time in a while to squint at her handsome boyfriend with a forced frown.

His skin was toasted, his freckles vivid and doubled by the Texan sun. His jade eyes glowed beneath the bridge of his baseball cap as he hovered above her in a blood red t-shirt. A side smile creeping on his face as he leered at his prey.

“I’m gonna ruin a lot more than your peace sweetheart.”

“Wow, where’d that come from?” She snorted, slightly taken aback by his aura and electrifying energy.

“You’re kiddin’ right? Those photos you sent earlier, I’ve been thinking ‘bout them since.”

“I didn’t mean for them— I was just—"

“I know, but you looked so good. I’ve been hiding a boner all fuckin’ day.”

His thick fingers wrapped around the arm rests as his entire frame descended upon her.

A wave of serenity washed over her barely covered body, warming her heart and melting her soul as the radiance from his skin transferred to hers, making her melt to his whim.

Using his knees he pushed her legs open, and with pure pride like the smug bastard he is, he positioned his crotch between her legs like he had the right to be there.

He was a shiny bright apple begging to taint her soul and ruin her bliss.

His brooding eyes sunk into her flesh, his solid shaft grazing her bud demanding her full attention, which he undoubtedly had.

Temptation seeped through her resolve, the tricks of the devil too tantalising to deny.

An ear splitting scream broke the peace as the sun lounger barely balanced both of their weights, edging them, threatening to crash to the floor, but never quite reaching the climax.

“Nonononono, Jensen! No, ohmygod, we’re gonna hit the deck, get off you big idiot!” She squealed, slapping at his shoulders, half-heartedly pushing him away.

“I’ll take you on the floor, I don’t mind,” he told her between kisses to her neck.

“You’re a fuckin’ animal,” she said, a light giggle hiding in her scoff.

“You love it.”

“You bet.”

He stole the air from her lungs when his lips met hers.

Her barriers imploded as if the world had collided with another planet, the oxygen evaporated leaving her breathless and woozy under his weight and the power of his sword.

The trip from relaxed-in-the-sun and in the Garden of Eden to horny-as-fuck and one way ticket to hell was instant.

A wicked flash of furious lust coursed through her veins, pumping her heart to crazy levels that had her spinning out of control. Delirium for him pulling her under and teasing her core.

Like a lotus eater, he offered her more, and she gobbled up every kiss, every squeeze, every stroke.

Every second that ticked by dissipating her will as she became more docile and receptive to his passion.

The devil had won.

She was his.

“Take me Jensen.”

[thetransblacksmith]

RIP Shane MacGowan

Rest in peace, you glorious bastard. Keep on singing in heaven.

[the-fandom-qu33n]

Chapter 1 ____To Strike A Match

(UF Sans/Reader)

Rated M...violence, profanity and much else soon to come

writing an UF sans book cause i can

you the reader are the daughter of UF Grillby...he's protective as shit-

sans is as he always is...a trolling jerkwad..or is he?

_____________

summary

___________

burnt out sick of the recurring timeline everything is starting to break him down little by little... day after day drink after drink he needed something different a smoke would be good... just needed a...light?

_______________________________________________

The clinking of glasses and small chatter from the bars patrons .. the smell of burgers and salty fries...held in the air as it added to the sound of sizzling and crackling of the bar tender himself. All the sounds and smells ran through your head in a calming matter as you continued to read your tablets in peace smiling slightly to yourself looking through your apps you used daily... all set in a folder for easier access o you...you liked it that way...simple. but today was special...you couldn't pay to much attention to your tablet today WAS the day... a day to any other adult would be a shrug of the shoulders but to a new adult such as yourself it mattered in this moment being finally old enough to be sitting at the bar yourself ..a time you felt empowerment. A bar you had been told off limits for many years...now was finally open to you... a new found freedom...to be like everyone else...a limit broken... not many limits that were set to you were ever broken...for your safety of course. looking around you smiled sitting at the bar like a real woman...holding your tablet and sipping on your non alcoholic bubbling drink Grillby had given you it looked like every other drink the other monsters had...another freedom to add to sitting at the glorious bar!. Grateful for the fire resistant furniture and items throughout the underground... well what you were ALLOWED to see of the underground of course. which wasn't much but you were ok with that.

Snowdin was a nice place filled with very nice monsters like yourself... you had a few friends that came by sometimes and that was enough... you lived a pretty happy life...a simple day by day life the simpler the better you had been told. A calming day scrolling through Monstergram... what could be better than that?

------ (?)

Today was ... quiet TO quiet...no fights breaking out, no wild drunk bastards either. Eyes narrowing he scanned the bar...nothing dangerous... y/n was sitting calmly and quietly as well...that was fine... she was fine.

But the rest wasn't NOTHING was happening and he was terrified of what would soon arise. Sighing silently he turned to his clock his flames rising in alarm 1:53...SHIT that fucking bastard would be here any minute to cause havoc!!! in a panicked state a fire began to grow as he quickly snatched the first aid kit along with many monster candies of multicolors..each color being a different HP level aid ...a strange affect of the magic infused into each candy...tasting all the same of some stupid cream cicle flavor...mostly chalky but when wounded from a fight one doesn't really care of the flavor or texture of the damned thing if you are near to dusted especially if the attacker was advancing you took what you had to without a singular thought what you had just absorbed and as long as he has ran this bar since the damned monster showed up one day he knew one thing... this fucker always caused a fight... always coating his poor establishment in dust... as much as he didn't care about the poor soul of the sucker that pissed the damn monster off...he DID care about y/n being around to see it...she hadn't been introduced into violence yet. Among other things he had controlled...smirking to himself as he knew y/n had believed her drink was alcoholic just as every other irresponsible monster had...a good choice on his part he agreed with himself before scowling again thinking about the foolish bar patrons he dealt with. ..he had always made sure the really rowdy people who frequented his bar were NEVER around when y/n was...but this time he had no time as he lunged grabbing the poor girl by the shirt yanking her behind the bar and in the back door just as the monster burst in with a snarl cracking the door with his sneakers...a damned footprint most likely left behind on his poor cracked door making Grillby's fire start to swirl angrily in mere seconds already just seeing his damned entrance. the now grinning cocky bastard walked up to the bar tapping his claws on the wood as he did everyday..

"bad day so double ma mustard..."

when wasn't it? it was the god forsaken underground...a mess of violent monsters making bad choices and acting on pure adrenaline and hatred...a bunch of feral idiots trying to show off and be better than the other....it was all stupid

Growling in annoyance the fire monster slid over two bottles quickly as the damned skeleton seemed to have caught them in time making Grillby silently curse hoping he would have coated the fucker in mustard...stain his beloved jacket or his favorite shorts even...any type of humiliation to the damned bastard who never paid his fucking tab...would have been satisfactory...but yet not a drop had spilt. Smirking his sharp golden replacement tooth the Skeleton winked seemingly making his magic glow in his eye socket just enough to make the tooth shimmer.. a show of a battle he had entered and unfortunately lived through. .a battle scar of his rise to power of Snowdin he didn't even earn his damned brother had stepped in...if only the taller skeleton had been a second slower this bastard would have been dusted ages ago...never would have had to deal with him... a pure shame...

he HATED that damn mocking wink he HATED this monsters lazy attire.. he HATED his voice he HATED this skeleton with every flicker of his being... what he hated most however was seeming to know what Grillby had tried to do filling the fire monster with a slow burning rage that began to rise...again

a fire of pure resentment built over many years...dealing with HIM thinking about every day the skeleton had been in his establishment destroying furniture.. killing patrons...spitting out horrible pun after pun and seemingly knowing every single button to push to annoy him JUST enough to rise and attempt to dust him...but never far enough to attack...yet

"its always a bad day...Red..."

__________________

if you took the time to read this i appreciate it...

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

so uh. chicken the chicken am i right? 🧍‍♂️ im sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but last week my mother found a pile of her feathers out by the fence, and we havent seen her since. it appears that either the coyotes got her, or she's migrated to britian to bother the rest of the royal family. for my sake im chosing the second option. i'd like to imagine her being an elderly bird assassin who shits on the kings pillow every once and a while instead of killing him. this has been an era of chaos and the bastard bird (/aff) pecking at my ankles. i hope she brought you joy whenever i gave you updates on her o7 -immortal chicken anon

NOOOOOOOO NOT CHICKEN

🪦 rest in peace you glorious bird

[jackmattress]

You stand upon an opposed magnet floating unhappily in the purgatory between two worldly joys. The unrestful bubbles and the idea, the hope for flavor hold you uneasy, above the simple peace and rest of good earthly water. The lifeblood of our planet, invaded by man’s hubris, unleashing chemicals upon himself until he is driven up and out from the pure origin, unable to return. And yet above, to reach for the lingual delights of sweetness and the gustatory experiences of nature’s many treasures is a privilege and honor of this physical existence. Here it is curtailed, held back, fundamentally unreachable in this grayed landscape. Shunted from the simplicity of liquid’s true nature, weighed down and unequipped, the drinker wanders listless, never to reach the heights, the glorious joys of taste’s possibilities. You are trapped by man’s advancement that has gone astray, a bastardization of what you flee.

-Drinking Lacroix

[icannotgetoverbirds]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! then, send to your last ten people in your notifs (anonymously). you never know who might benefit from spreading positivity <3

[points like a warm-hearted old feller in a bar] see this one, this one I like. Short and sweet and to the point, though I s'pose ten people might be a bit much for some, so I hope you don't mind if I take the liberty to change it to the last few users instead. Makes it a bit easier t'manage, see?

Okay comedic exaggeration of my southern-ness over. Sit down and buckle up:

It's bird time.

Now this is in no particular order of favoritism or anything like that - I don't think I could ever pick a favorite bird. This'll just be an overview of some of my most beloved species of birds.

Emu -

Have y'all ever seen an emu frolic? It's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever had the joy to behold. And if the emu in question is hand-raised, these cuties are cuddly motherfuckers. Hugging an emu is a 10/10 experience. Watch those beaks, though - they love to peck at anything shiny.

Kakapo -

Look at that glorious bastard. The world's heaviest parrot, these birds are nocturnal and can vocalize in subsonic 'booms' during mating season. Don't wear green around Sirocco, though. Just... don't. Absolutely adorable, would give a little kissie on the forehead if I could.

Great-Tailed Grackle -

I love these little shits, they make the best noises. I thought they were corvids for the longest time, but apparently they're not, unfortunately. Regardless, they have a special place in my heart as the birds of my hometown.

African Grey Parrot -

Ough Alex my beloved. Rest in peace, sweetie. These guys are so smart that Dr. Irene Pepperberg dedicated her career to studying their intelligence. Alex in particular had a massive vocabulary, understood the concept of zero, and was the first recorded nonhuman animal to ask an existential question - he asked his handlers what color he was.

All Corvids -

Goth motherfuckers supreme, smart as fuck, plenty of sass to match. Need I say any more?

[lovee-infected]

This idea just hit me like a train. How would twst boys react to WAP from Cardi B?? 😂😂😂

I'm trying to ignore the fact that I might've never discovered WAP without this request...🗿

Warning(s): What should I even tag as the warning idkk ckcjxjsjsjdjdjck- Mentions of WAP's lyrics, mentions of nsfw, Warning for Idia's part bc I think it went a bit too far-

Riddle Rosehearts

Heard of this song named WAP being trending between students -> Searched it up -> Riddle:... Riddle: *Turns off his phone*

Bans WAP from the whole Heartslabyul afterwards, and every student found listening to it will have to face Riddle's: "NOOOOOOO- NO WAP IN THIS HOUSEHOLD - GO TO HORNY JAIL OFF WITH YOUR HEADS YOU UNWORTHY CREATURES- "

Trey Clover

Searches: "What does WAP mean?" before wards and after reading the search results he decides that he doesn't really need to listen to the song itself anymore.

He just clears his browsing history and returns to baking cakes. Nothing has happened, he knows nothing.

Cater Diamond

He is the guy making those "Night raven college react to WAP!!" videos on magicam. His reaction videos get over 100k views and people from all over the Twisted Wonderland start following this dork for them.

Who cares about the WAP itself? As long as he can gain followers over these videos he doesn't care how the song is supposed to be.

But at last Riddle discovers his videos by finding other dorms' students laughing over them and forces him to take them down💀 Man, Riddle really did ruin his once-in-a-life time chance for becoming popular.

Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade

Riddle has banned WAP Heartslabyul so they're going to illegally listen to it. It was Ace's fault though, Deuce is innocent.

Ace searchs up the music video, Deuce just sees the thumbnail and tells Ace that he doesn't think that this is going to be a good idea but Ace cuts him off by asking him not to be such a chicken-

Though they had to stop because Deuce was all shaky and embarrassed after just 20 seconds :"Stop this-STOP THIS- I CAN'T DO THIS- WE'RE STILL TOO YOUNG" and Ace had to stop to shut Deuce because they could've gotten caught at any second because of his unholy screams.

[a few minutes later...]

Deuce: It was saying DOORS in this house

Ace: Bruh what the- we both know it was saying Wh*res.

Deuce: Y-you dirty minded bastard!! It was clearly saying doors in this house!

Ace: Why the hell would they say doors in this house!??? It was wh*res!

Deuce: Doors!

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOORS

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOOOOORRRSSSSSSSSS

Leona Kingscholar

See he might be a jerk but he hasn't yet gotten to the level of appreciating this way of presenting women in songs-

He's just going to pretend that WAP doesn't exist,but most of the Savanaclaw on the other hand are going wild because with WAP, now he can't even take a peaceful nap without WAP being looped in his brain.

Ruggie Bucchi

WAP isn't beyond his power, he's handled stronger songs.✨ He'd regularly rap WAP in public when he's feeling like it.

Now he goes around to recommend WAP to naïve students and taint their virginity by making them listen to WAP without knowing what it is-

Jack Howl

Catches Ace and Deuce listening to WAP and ends up listening to it because of them. He doesn't knpw what to say...

He isn't mad, just disappointed. Disappointed parent noises. Out of all these students, why should he best buddies which these two?

Time to drag Ace and Deuce to a corner and give them a long speech on why young men their age need to be focusing on mastering skills and achieving success through these golden years instead of violating rules and tainting their pure minds.

"Trappola-kun, Spade-kun, you've greatly disappointed me. You need to be more mindful of your actions as fellow freshmen of night raven college. Is this how the future's great magicians are going to be? How do you think your parents would feel about this new habit of yours? Have you thought of how despicable women are being presented through such songs? Are you going to support such a taboo message toward ladies?"

And Ace and Deuce end up having to listen to him and think of their bad actions for the rest of the day...

Azul Ashengrotto

[Before listening to WAP]: He hears of this WAP song being super trending between students. What might it secret be? What kind of magic would make a simple song so hecking popular? He has to find out.

Azul thinks that by learning WAP's ways, he might be able to produce songs that are even better for mostrolounge and even start his very own music company! But before that he needs to listen to wap itself...

[After listening to WAP]: ...He discovers what kind of magic is making it so popular, but decides that it'd be better for him take a step back from the world of music for now. Yes, he's traumatized

Floyd Leech

"Hey hey koooeeebiii chaaannnn have you seen my new dance~?" ah yes, he's got the WAP dance and he's proud of it. These are the time when he's genuinely thankful for getting to have human legs.

But the WAP dance isn't his only target, he realizes that Jamil doesn't seem to want Kalim to know anything about WAP, but thankfully, Floyd is going to be kind enough to bless the young Kalim with his wealthy knowledge on WAP. ✨

Jade Leech

"My...my...that was savage," Jade is amazed, it's quite wonderful how these fragile creatures can go from Micheal Jackson's smooth criminal to WAP in a matter of years.

He's still having trouble keeping up with latest human trends and popular songs but, he's slowly liking humans a lot more than before. These creatures have already reached the level to make put p*rn in music, impressive.

Kalim Al Asim

He hears students whispering about an epic song named WAP during the classes, and of course he'd be intrigued!

He looks up the song but Jamil has already blocked his access to any sources that he might find WAP in, yet Floyd was kind enough to lend Kalim his phone to let him listen to this masterpiece. Later on, Floyd tells him about the WAP dance and bam, Kalim is addicted.

"Everyone watch me! I've got the WAP!"

Poor Jamil doesn't know which is worse, having Kalim signing it loudly in the dorm or watching him showing off his skills in that WAP dance in public. It's time for Jamil to go on a long, long trip and never come back until Kalim graduates from this school.

Jamil Viper

Listens to WAP once, is going to spend the rest of his life pretending that he has never heard or watched it. The most ironic part about it is how he watches the music video instead of just listening to the song and...the snakes. Good lord the snakes- He isn't sure if he likes snakes anymore.

The snakes part seriously traumatizes him but not like Kalim does when he asks Jamil to learn him the WAP dance. And heck no Jamil isn't going to learn him how to dance like a wh*re. At this point, he decides to deny WAP's whole existence.

Kalim: At least tell me what a WAP is!

Jamil:

Jamil: Worship and prayer.

Vil Schoenheit

Hasn't listened to WAP and refuses to do so. He's got standards.

Rook Hunt

"Bravo!!! These Mademoiselles have taken the art of music to a whole nother level! Beaute! 100 points! 💯" (...what else did you expect him to say?)

Just as always, no one can really tell if Rook really liked it or not but from the way he acts he seems to be... intrigued. Apparently WAP starts to get too famous in school and Rook would always be the first one to find out if a student is secretly listening to WAP in public, so he doesn't mind popping up and reminding the students not to listen to such a potentially stimulating song so carelessly: "Monsieur (x), it's adorable to see you appreciating such a glorious piece of art in this lovely day, but I don't think that all of these students staring at us right now are yet prepared for such a beauty,"

Epel Felmier

He just asked Ace for some music that'll make him sound more badass and Ace gave him the WAP:

Epel listening to WAP be like:😳😶😨😕😭

His face is redder than a tomato after the first 30 seconds of WAP, but Ace tells him that he'd be the bravest human being ever if he takes the urge to listen to this in front of teachers.

Tries to dance to WAP and make a video with it to upload on magicam, but Vil catches him in the middle of process.💀💀💀 The video turned out pretty good though. It looks just like a mother (Ehm- Vil) getting into her child's room (Epel-) and finding them doing some crazy shit.

Idia Shroud

He's the silent and seemingly shy dude who's listening to WAP in the highest volume under those head phones during classes.

Divus Crewel: CaF2(s) + Br2(ℓ) → CaBr2(s) + F2(g)...

Inside Idia's headphones: " ~ Wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~"

Bonus: He once forgets to connect his headphones to his tablet before playing WAP:

[Wap is being played at max volume inside Trein's class]

Idia: *Thinks that the sound is coming from his head phones*

The classroom: "Beat it up, n*gga, catch a charge

Extra large and extra hard

Put this p**sy right in your face

Swipe your nose like a credit card"

Trein: 😳

Students: 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

Crowley about to jump down: 🤭

Idia still not realizing what the hell is going on: 'Lucy lucy baby~ hihihi- wait- why they all staring at me now...? Did they hear me internally flirt with Lucius?'

No need to say what happened to Idia after this...

Ortho Shroud

No WAP for him. You may find him reacting to "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands" if you're interested.🗿

Malleus Draconia

Thank goodness he just finds the censored version of WAP... Listens to the whole song, but doesn't understand most of the lyrics. The "Put this cookie right in your face" part confuses him the most, he doesn't get it. Why would you put a cookie in your face? Is this something humans usually to do with their desserts? Like, would they put ice cream in their faces too?

Virgin dragon keeps on asking people, including Lilia, to tell him what it means to put a cookie in one's face, yet no one seems to give him any proper answers ):

Perhaps human music just isn't his thing, he's getting back to sad violin noises which he listens to when he isn't invited.

Lilia Vanrouge

WAP go brrrrrrr. Our sassy grandpa is legit in love with this piece of gold and all of the humans for achieving such a glory. The beat is superb and the lyrics are: Delicious, motivational and creatively written.

Even better, WAP has an unofficial but smexy dance too. Old man Lilia is never too old for performing a sexy physically challenging dance.

You can now hear savage rock sounds combined with WAP playing in the background coming from his room when he's vibing in the afternoon.

(I can totally see him wearing a neko maiden costume while dancing to WAP and you can't tell me otherwise)

Silver

Finds WAP in papa Lilia's playlist...

Silver:

Silver:

Sebek Zigvolt

Sweet mother of love Sebek feels like listening to WAP has taken his virginity away-

He is a good boy, no, he once was a good boy. He's no longer the worthy man he used to be now that this unholy song has tainted his soul.

Legit feels guilty and and sinful after WAP, so you can find him praying for forgiveness to that Malleus portrait in his room every night.

"Oh young master forgive my thoughtless deeds, I beg for your mercy upon me now that I've sinned..."

Dire Crowley

Not saying that a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing, but a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing- Everyone bow down to the Headmaster, the most gracious of them all 😩😩😩👌🏻

Please, don't blame him. Birby is under too much of pressure after the very recent overblot cases and he needs a way to let go of the stress😔😔😔

Sam

Is illegally selling copies of the WAP because most of the dorms had blocked access to this song for the students...

"Helloooooo little demons I've got the WAP! In stuck now-"

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

My dad was 11 when Eric Morecambe died. He wasn't an especially big Morecambe and Wise fan but most households in Britain had watched their show. He says he remembers feeling sad because someone funny had died.

I think there's something to be said about comedians and death - a lot more than I could write out here, so I'll be brief. I think perhaps comedians' deaths hit harder than most in the public eye because they've spent their careers making people laugh. Death doesn't typically make people laugh; it's like being pulled from one extreme to the other.

I think that helps partly explain why so many people who never knew him have said that Rik Mayall's death hit them hard.

Today is 9th June, which means it's Rik's anniversary. He still makes me laugh. I would actually go so far as saying he inspires me, as soppy and girly as that may sound. I'm going to light a candle for Rik today and spend the evening watching his shows. It's been 7 years but some stars don't dim.

To Rik Mayall! ❤️

[legolasbadass]

A Lifetime Apart [1/3]

Artwork by the lovely @gwen-ever​

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Summary: Thorin meets his One while still a young prince in Erebor, but their lives are torn apart by their families and the arrival of Smaug. 

Based on Alice Tynan’s interview with Richard Armitage in ‘The Vine,’ this fic was inspired by @gwen-ever’s wonderful art for the @tolkienrsb 2021! 

Warnings: Angst. Seriously guys, this is really angsty, get your tissues ready. (gwen and I are not sorry lol)

Rating: T

As always, the fic can be read on AO3. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

There is a room in Erebor, a secret place where once their love bloomed in peace. All the memories of that place, where he held her and worshipped her with his lips, were forever engraved in his mind. It was there that, after months of struggling with his feelings, he had realized she was his One.

All Dwarves know that Mahal sometimes creates two of his children from the same stone, bonding them for life. Of course, not all Dwarves marry. Even those granted this honour by their Maker do not always choose to marry, for some value friendship above all other bonds, while others devote themselves to their craft. Still, as a young boy, Thorin had hoped Mahal would deem him worthy, and every night he had dreamt of the moment he would meet his One, conjuring their likeness like an artist who paints a picture and gives it life.

He had also wondered what it would feel like to meet his One. Would he know immediately? And how would he know? Perhaps it would be like in those romance novels his sister liked so much. A tender, all-consuming look from across the room, silently reassuring the other that they had found each other at last.

Perhaps due to long hours in the council chamber, Thorin had become more of a realist as the years went on. He always had to be on his guard, and he learned quickly that he could not trust his desires, for they could be manipulated by advisors and enemies alike. Romanticism was fine for artists but not for princes. The idea of a destined love became no more than a child’s fanciful dream, and Thorin grew gradually less opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage until the thought of it did not bother him at all. After all, his parents had been married for a political alliance and had still grown to care for each other. Thorin knew he would do the same.

At least, that was what he had told himself before he met Rúna, his dear Rúna.

He did not know immediately that she was his One, but from the moment their gazes met, he knew he would never again be the same. Her presence had so bewitched him that he had not realized he was walking toward her until she stood right in front of him. Then, stumbling over his every word, he had thought himself defeated, oblivious to the fact that she felt the same indescribable pull toward him.

“Thorin, at your service,” had been his first words to her.

“Rúna, daughter of Ragni, your highness,” she had replied with a curtsy, enchanting him all the more with her melodious voice.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time, Lady Rúna.” Already, he had loved the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“More pleasant than you, at least, seeing as you have found nothing better to do than stare at me from across the room,” she had replied teasingly.

Blushing furiously, he had attempted to remain formal and composed but, ultimately, had failed miserably. “I had hoped that would go unnoticed, or at the very least, that you would humour me and pretend like nothing had transpired. And just because I was watching you does not mean I am not having a pleasant time. On the contrary, my spirits were lifted by the sight of your fairness.”

Thorin could still remember the beautiful blush that had painted her cheeks. “Forgive me,” he had said hastily. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I did not say I did not enjoy it,” she had replied with the most enchanting smirk.

That was how their conversations usually unfolded. Thorin, who always prided himself on being in control and always knowing what to say, would find himself barely able to think. He blamed her low-cut gowns and the redness of her lips for that.

They soon became inseparable. Every day, they would meet in their secret room, a haven where they shared stolen kisses and soft caresses. Âzyungel, she would call him, for she, too, had accepted Mahal’s will. She had accepted Thorin as hers, and in those moments, both of them had believed nothing would ever separate them, for they were destined to be together.

Deep in the caverns of his mind, a voice called out to Thorin, warning him against the intensity of his passion, but he did not listen. He found himself thinking of her at the most inappropriate times, and she haunted the nights he wished he could spend with her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and heard her laughter, clearer than the soft splashing of water against limestone rocks.

What would it be like to spend his whole life with her, his Rúna?

Thorin thought with utter surety that he would soon know when they announced to their families their intent to wed. At first, everyone was overjoyed. Rúna came from a wealthy and respectable family, so the king had no objections to his grandson’s choice — not that any of that mattered to the couple. Ale and Dorwinion wine flowed freely as the news travelled through the mountain. The prince had chosen his princess.

Thorin and Rúna welcomed their families’ approval, but they secretly longed to be alone once more. When at last they found themselves in the comfort of Thorin’s chambers, they drank some more wine between languid kisses, committing the moment to memory. Fingers braided hair then caressed the skin they hastily revealed, their cheeks tainted with the soft glow of love.

That night, like their hearts forever bound, their bodies became one. Thorin was gentle, attentive to her every need, and even afterwards, he continued to bathe her in tenderness, scattering kisses all over her skin as they murmured promises of eternal love to each other, bodies entangled.

Rúna fell asleep to the soft lullaby of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and though she never doubted for a second his sincerity and devotion, those promises were never fulfilled.

Rúna knew they should have been patient, and although she was usually very sensible, she had not known how to resist her handsome prince, especially not when his body had promised her glorious passion, now and for the rest of their lives. Besides, it was not as though premarital relations were unheard of. However, princes had to follow much stricter rules. And these rules had been carelessly ignored. And as the days went on, Rúna knew she would not have the luxury of keeping their transgression a secret, for inside her bloomed the product of her and Thorin’s love, but also the cause of their demise.

Even if it had not been for her growing belly, her morning sickness and alarmingly fluctuating moods would have given her away. And they did. She had never seen her parents so furious, and their disappointment pierced her heart. Her father shouted about her stained reputation and their ruined bloodline, leaving her in tears as she tried to scramble away in search of Thorin even as she knew it was hopeless.

She knew they would separate them.

King Thror, with the support of Thorin’s parents, banished Rúna from Erebor, never to see her beloved again. She tried to fight them, indignation festered inside her like a poisoned wound, the unattainable promise of Thorin’s love shattering her heart into a million pieces, but it was hopeless.

They did not inform Thorin of this, for it was their firm intention never to let him know about the bastard child. Instead, they told him she was bedridden while they conjured up a more permanent plan. And so, unaware that his One had been taken from him, Thorin brought flowers to Rúna’s door every day. He hated every moment he was forced to spend away from her — it felt unnatural — but he consoled himself by thinking that they would spend their whole lives together.

Then the dragon came.

Thorin had been out hunting in the woods with his siblings when a strong wind began to rattle the treetops. Then a roar like thunder split the sky, and the blood of Thorin’s veins froze when he heard a shout from afar.

“Dragon!”

Rúna.

Without so much as a glance at his companions, Thorin bolted toward the mountain, fear clogging his throat.

Refusing to believe this was real, he did not even stop when the gates loomed above him, riddled in flames, but the screams piercing his ears grounded him to the bitterness of reality. The air was wrought with the stench of burning flesh and the sorrow of a broken people. All around him, children cried in fright, and mothers wept while the distant ringing of useless steel announced their defeat.

No help came from the Elves that day, nor any day since; a betrayal Thorin never forgot. Even if there had been survivors still clawing for breath inside the mountain, they had no means to reach them.

Rúna.

Thorin searched for her everywhere, shouting her name until his lungs burned, but when the moon appeared, and she was still nowhere to be found, Thorin knew it was hopeless. Grief crashed over him like a hurricane.

He had lost her.

He wanted to tear the sky open and demand retribution from Mahal himself, but all his remaining strength he used to remain on his feet. He had to be strong for his people — what remained of them. His family had miraculously survived, but even that could not have filled the gaping hole where his heart had once beat.

Rúna, his dear Rúna. The memory of her lips against his turned to ash in his mouth. When he had last kissed her and held her, he had done so thinking he would have a lifetime to keep loving her. But she was now no more than a memory.

He forced himself not to think of that, for his people needed him now more than ever. Only once he was finally alone did he let his tears run free, and all through the night, he sobbed into his pillow, his only comfort the memories of their secret room, untouched by fire and blood. Thorin held onto those memories all through the years, never forgetting, never forgiving.

—

Khuzdul translations:

Âzyungêl: Love of Loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)

Taglist: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @mcchiberry @bitter-sweet-farmgirl​ @i-did-not-mean-to​

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

I love HeavyMedic, it's my favorite ship and this entire blog's brand is pretty much nothing but HeavyMedic, but good God all these other ships did not deserve to get steamrolled into the ground like that.

Rest in peace, you glorious bastards.

[binaryeclipse]

It’s missing anakin and obi wan hours! So if you had to pick 5 (or more 😏) moments when these guys looked their most glorious (or badass) what would they be?? 🤔

Okay Okay Okay I can definitely do this! YEEE HAW! 🤠

Sorry this turned into glorious = handsome. After I found some screencaps I realized where I ended up. I apologize but here we are 😅

Let's do Anakin first, in descending order:

5. Season 7 Episode 9 of The Clone Wars: Rescuing Obi-Wan

That whole part where he's kneeling on the tank talking down to Obi-Wan while carnage is happening all around him? He's simultaneously the glorious chosen one and also such a brat I love him.

I also just have such a soft spot for animated Anakin (and Matt Latner voicing him), even the jankier versions from the earlier seasons (shut up, his nose is fucking adorable) but this glow-up is everything I could have wanted for him and it really drives home how powerful Anakin already is and, honestly, makes the transformation into Darth Vader all the more terrifying and heartbreaking.

4. Revenge of the Sith: Rematch with Dooku

BAD! ASS! BITCH!

The cool collected expression when he catches Dooku's sabre after cutting off his hands like it's nothing? Yes, work it! He's so blasé about it (right before Palpatine interjects and starts being a creep about killing Dooku like the Skeevy Sheev he is) and it's such a glow up from the disastrous first duel. Anakin got his revenge and then some. You take my arm? I take your hands and your head.

3. Revenge of the Sith: Post Nightmare

The open robe, the low-slung pants, the exposed mechanical arm, the brooding... Hayden Christensen's face and low brow were designed perfectly for two things: being a pretty sad boy and the Kubrick stare. It's kinda sad how dark this scene is without editing but the way the city glimmers and catches on Anakin's brass curls? 😩 Perfection!

2. Revenge of the Sith: Don't even know what to call it I just want to look at him

Love looks so good on him, the way it absolutely consumes him to his core. It's both his most beloved and cursed trait and he wears it like a crown in this scene. It's both dark and warm at the same time, the way he stares at Padmé like she is his whole universe and she carries his future with her.

I'd say get you an SO who does the same but I don't think anyone wants to be put on a pedestal like that. And we all know how it goes down. But his loyalty and love do shine bright here in his gaze as well as his obsession and it makes him very handsome.

1. Revenge of the Sith: Unhinged Anakin

Anakin at his most glorious. As if it could be any other bastard but this one. He's at his hottest when he's high on the dark side and off his rabid ass mind, dreaming of ruling the galaxy with the love of his life. This basically includes the entirety of his conversation with padme and the "I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire" villain speech. He's perfect, he's evil, he's Darth Vader at his most glorious before Obi-Wan cuts him down to size 😭

Now for the handsome devil himself, Obi-Wan:

5. Season 7 Episode 9 of The Clone Wars: Confronting Bo-Katan and Ahsoka

He. Is. So. Soft. Here.

Soft but stern and so wholly good. He's a Jedi, and you can see it in every line of his body, in his compassion, in how heavy the weight of the decisions of war rest on his shoulders. The grey in his hair, the crows feet... they so lovingly animated him and I love him so so so much in this scene because it shows just how much he loves but is bound by duty to the greater good.

4. Revenge of the Sith: Utapau

Get yourself a man who can be a ✨Disney Princess ✨

The hood! Boga! A desperate last mission to end the war!

I love him with his hood up, being a sneaky mysterious Jedi. He's basically here to kick ass and be hot. Grievous doesn't know what's coming.

There's something about how good he is with animals that speaks to the quiet gentleness that's deep in Obi-Wan's soul. He may have little patience, and be a sass master, and as snippy as Ahsoka on her worst days but at his core he's a Jedi.

3. Attack of the Clones: Battle of Geonosis

YES, BITCH, WORK IT!

The badass snarly stab scene from Attack of the Clones lives in my head rent-free, 24/7, 365 days a year.

He's peak badass Obi-Wan here, tapping into that energy and viciousness which makes him a cunning warrior and general the Separatists learn to fear. This is the Sith Slayer in action and I love it.

The sex appeal is strong and it comes from the danger factor 💯💯💯

2. Attack of the Clones: Lost A Planet

This may actually be Obi-Wan's prettiest scene. Period. The screencap doesn't do it justice, go find one of the many pretty gifs of this scene to appreciate it's full majesty.

I don't even like mullets! How has he done this to me?

The planets floating around him like sparkles and stars just highlight how gorgeous Ewan McGregor is. How dare they film this scene like this, like he belongs in the cosmos and is home amongst planets and nebula like its second nature?

Anakin may be the son of the Force, but Obi-Wan is the Force's blorbo (that it loves to torment).

1. ROTS: Post Invisible Hand Crash

"This is how gays flirt." - my girlfriend

She's right. The cocked hip, the hand on it, the lean and the devilish smirk? He's never been hotter. What a ho!

He's bantering with Anakin, they just had a major victory they somehow bumbled into like a pair of disasters that they are and the war looks like it might be turning in their favour! He's just managed to dodge dealing with politicians by making Anakin do it. He's cheeky and sassy and having a good time. I love that for him.

Everything about this is so gorgeous and glorious. He's happy, do you know how rare that is in star wars? This man was made to suffer and his joy and love just shine all the brighter for it.

[browniefox]

Emmet is now one day from arriving in Sinnoh, and by proxy, Volker is one day away from getting his ass beat by Palmer the second the Unova crew shows up in front of them all. Rest in peace you glorious electrical bastard. At least you had a fun battle with Ingo before the end.

And then, after Volkner is killed at the hands of Palmer, I reveal this was all just one big weird contrived way to make Emmet into the new Sinnoh electric gym leader and then Ingo just lives in the mountains or something

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Five)

Word Count- 3921

Morning had come around a lot quicker than you had hoped it would, the sunlight peeking through the curtains and birds singing outside making drifting back off an impossible task. Though you felt well rested, you simply just didn't want to move anywhere any time soon. Last night had begun with Mycroft shyly placing his hand on your hip as your back pressed close to his chest, but this morning had ended with Mycroft on his back and you with your head resting between his chest and shoulder, hand crossing over with fingers hooked over the pyjama's pocket. You'd never expected to be the type to wake up earlier than Mycroft Holmes, particularly not two days on the bounce, but you wouldn't complain. He looked so peaceful as he slept, the sunlight turning his auburn hair far more ginger, his freckles on his nose matching. You slowly reached one arm backwards, blindly feeling around for your phone on the bedside table and reading through your messages. You grinned seeing a text from Greg and had to fight the small laugh that threatened to escape you.

'Hey, just thought I'd check in on you both and see how you're getting on. I hate to feel pushy but we do really need to start that paperwork, today ideally. Figured I'd pop round later if it's alright- I need a sodding nap first though. Spent the majority of last night receiving phone calls about mysterious activity around St James', load of dodgy cars sending people away, loads of papers.. don't suppose you saw any of that down your way did you, makes life easier?"

Your fingers typed a response- 'Uhh..guilty as charged.. Myc was in jeans and a Who top, daren't be seen by the public..I'll get him to fix it when he's up x'- a grin playing on your face. Yeah okay you felt a little bad, but Greg had dealt with worse. After pressing send, you scrolled further through your notifications, spotting one from John. Nothing major, just checking in and inviting you both over for late lunch, mentioning briefly how it'll do Sherlock some good seeing his brother, even if he doesn't believe it himself- evidently also receiving a message from Greg as he also explained how it would make Lestrade have to do one less visit for paperwork if you popped over a little earlier. Before you could type an answer, you felt Mycroft shift beneath you, stretching out the arm that wasn't trapped beneath your body.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty." You teased, turning your head and placing a small kiss on the Holmes' chin. Mycroft blinked, rubbing his eyes and offering you a 'good morning' in response as he eyed up you typing on your phone.

"Needed to be whisked away to catch a criminal mastermind already?" He asked, sitting up a little as you moved to give him a little more space, his arm still loosely tucked behind your back, though his torso now free.

"Your deductions in the morning are lacking.. though close. Mastermind, but not criminal. John and Sherlock have invited us to late lunch, Greg's popping over to start the first part of paperwork handling, only the basic stuff this time round, so figured it would make it easier on him only having to go to one home before we left." Mycroft breathed deeply, fingers raising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I think I'd have rathered the criminal." He spoke, already mentally planning the afternoon, the conversations he would likely have, the way Sherlock would behave. What if he still hadn't forgiven him? It was surprising enough that you had let him off so easily, but Sherlock was different. Sherlock was a Holmes, and someone of whom already had feudal tendencies with Mycroft, it was bound to end terribly. As though you had read his mind, you moved your hand to take his from his face as you noticed his fingertips whitening as he pinched harder.

"Hey, it'll be fine. He doesn't blame you, he's been far too silent for that to be the case. From the way John sounded, it actually seemed more like he was worried about you, though you know he'd never admit that." Mycroft hummed in response, not being able to find the right words to say before reaching over and grabbing his own mobile. "World ending yet?"

"Not yet. Though with any luck, quarrels could happen before lunch." He mused, one side of his mouth raising slightly in a playful smirk.

"Mycroft you can't wish for conflicts amongst empires to get out of a meal with your brother."

"Can't I?" He raised a brow.

"Anthea wouldn't allow it anyway. We're on strict instruction to not go into work for the next couple of weeks, nations be damned. Lunch sounds far more appealing too." You slid yourself out of bed and grabbed one of the bags from Anthea that you brought upstairs last night, taking a handful of clothing items and tucking them under your arm.

"But it isn't lunch, is it? It's LATE Lunch, settled approximately around 3pm, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. It's impractical by any means; you starve yourself at real lunch so you do not ruin your appetite, and then by dinner time you're hungry once again. And if you eat at both of those times as well as the late lunch, your feeding schedules become on par with a bloody Hobbit." You rolled your eyes and headed to the bathroom. "Though you may be more accustomed to such choices given the height similarity between yourself and Mr Brandybuck."

"Cheeky sod, not all of us have glorious Holmesian legs. I'm sure you'll survive a few hours.. Oh, you also owe Greg an apology." You chuckled, opening the message back up and tossing your phone in the general direction of Mycroft's lap before going to get dressed. After reading the message, you heard Mycroft let out a laugh from the other room, the rare kind that you knew made the sides of his eyes crease and his head tip back slightly in amusement; you were sorry you missed it.

Leaving the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the silk pyjama clad man standing mindlessly in front of his open wardrobe, glancing over each individual item of clothing. Wandering behind him, you moved up on your tiptoes and peered over his shoulder at the rows of suits. You were still dressed relatively comfortably in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt, which you felt was appropriate for the later meal that would likely be somewhere like Angelo's- but you equally knew that Mycroft's idea of 'comfort' lay within his three pieces, pocket squares and oxfords.

"Don't panic, I'm not going to begrudge you of your precious suits today. You deserve it after actually going through with my wardrobe choice for you.. I didn't actually expect you to do it." You laughed, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "We slept in late again, there's barely any morning left." You commented, glancing over at the clock that read 10:53am. "Can I tempt you in Elevenses, Mr Baggins?" You grinned, your Lord of the Rings reference not being missed by Mycroft. He cast you a playful glare, fighting the urge to childishly poke his two fingers up at you. "What? Not judging my bedside manner this time?"

"It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it solves nothing." He quoted Frodo without hesitation, bastard probably already planned that you'd quip back with something smart and already armed himself with Shire related comebacks. You, in contrast to Mycroft, did have the tendencies to become childish and did opt for the two fingered response, an adoring smile unnaturally paired.

Not many people got to know of Mycroft's little nerdy side, and you took pride in being one of the few that did, though you took more pride in him for being able to easily reel off the quotes. Though he had told you before that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had been his favourite of everything you made him watch, then when he read the books? You wouldn't hear from him for hours at a time while he binge read through them for the tenth time round, and of course you had noticed the varying editions of the three books on his bookshelf in his personal office, rather than lining the shelves in his small library room. If anything, it just made him more endearing.

Though it was nothing compared with his love of Doctor Who. Bless his heart, you had taken him to watch David Tennant's Richard II a few years ago for his birthday and he was insistent on waiting behind after the performance to catch David leaving and got him to sign his special edition box set of his DW seasons. He even had a photo taken with him, his expression being easily comparable to the likes of a child who just got a puppy for Christmas- and, much to his dismay, the photograph had had a prime place on your desk at NSY since the event.

You made your way downstairs, calling out something about making omelettes and leaving Mycroft alone to get ready. His fingers skimmed across the expensive fabrics, tugging out an olive green suit and red tie and pocket square to match. The smell of the food you were preparing began to fill his nose, making his stomach growl as he rushed to the bathroom to get dressed. After removing his pyjama top, Mycroft caught a glance of himself in the mirror, prodding at the pudge of his stomach that settled just over his pyjama bottoms, before sucking in flat and looking again. Maybe he should forego the omelette and just wait until later.. another growl.. okay maybe just a little, just so he didn't raise suspicion. He sighed, stomach relaxing back to its natural state before finishing his morning routine, tugging his trousers up a little higher than usual to tuck away the offending belly fat.

Mycroft had always suffered with his weight, he knew that. He also knew of his past, how he would skip meals, or spend hours upon hours on his treadmill, or the time he was under Doctor Chinnery for just shy of three years following his habits of completing his meals with his fingers down the back of his throat over the toilet just after his job promotions exceeded and he found himself in much higher rankings- public appearance being far more important than any personal preference. Though his eating disorder had improved, the years of therapy didn't miraculously improve his self-confidence. It was one of the many reasons he preferred inviting others for dinners, or at the very least having his days to himself when he knew he would be going out later in the evening. Spontaneous meals out like the one he would be attending in a few hours, or having somebody at home with him while he waited for said meals threw him off balance completely- his usual routine of fasting beforehand as to not appear rude or raise suspicions when he ate in public being disturbed significantly. You knew of his past, deduced it, actually, and had been nothing but supportive, trying your best to convince him for years that he was perfectly healthy and encouraging him to eat better, to actually consume meals. He was thankful, of course he was, but it didn't help his insecurities around you, no matter how welcoming you had been or however many compliments you gave him. His body was covered in stretch marks and areas of loose skin from his weight loss over the years, his chest hair, though scarce, was a coppery ginger and his body was covered in so many freckles he looked like an explosion at a dot to dot factory. It led him to remember the other reason why he had never previously attempted to pursue a relationship with you; if he was disgusted and horrified at the appearance of his nude body then what on earth would you think when that time eventually came around? He daren't even try to imagine your face. You'd worked with Sherlock long enough to have seen him wander around naked and Mycroft had to admit that his brother at least had a body worth parading about in the nude, then there was Gregory who, despite not having an exactly chiseled body, still had the rugged good looks and toned chest- a physique that clearly represented the physical aspects of his occupation- there was no doubt you'd compare him to them and he would come up short every time.

"Myc? You gonna be long? Yours is going to be freezing!" Your voice had knocked him out of his thoughts and he quickly shrugged on the rest of his clothes, straightening his tie in the mirror and plastering on a small smile as he headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Apologies.. the cufflinks failed in succession to cooperate at first." You had eyed him suspiciously, knowing that Mycroft had worn enough suits in his lifetime that he could probably find a way to put one on to completion in 5 minutes in the dark with oven mitts on.

"I know I've been so against the suits, but I have to admit that you look incredible.. I think that one's my new favourite." You commented casually, placing a quick kiss to his temple as he sat at the table. "That colour is lovely." He quirked a brow.

"New favourite? You've had old ones?"

"Obviously." Imitating Sherlock. "Charcoal pinstripe with that light blue shirt- brings your eyes out wonderfully... and your bum." You winked, positively enjoying the pink that dusted the man's cheeks, and the way he would open his mouth to speak and then close it before any words came out. In his defence, he was really not used to receiving such compliments. And in your defence, you weren't particularly used to giving them, not like that anyway. You'd blame Greg, he was a terrible influence and an incredible flirt- using his charm to at the very least try and make you laugh when you had shitty days.

You lay his plate in front of him, a coffee to its side, before beginning to tuck into your own meal. You had learned early on that if you didn't wait until Mycroft was able to eat then he likely wouldn't eat at all. While drinking his coffee fairly happily, you hadn't missed that the vast majority of Mycroft's breakfast was still on the plate, cut in smaller pieces and rearranged to appear as though he had eaten more than he truly had. Frowning, you didn't press- knowing better than to point out his behaviour and just being thankful he had eaten anything at all (about a third of the omelette and half a slice of toast if your judgements were correct) but had elected to keep an eye on him. You finished your own food in silence before crossing the cutlery over on your plate and beginning to speak.

"I figured if we left now we could have a bit of time for you to go through the first set of paperwork, Greg should be getting there in the next 10 minutes or so, and then by the time we finish and have a cup of tea it'll be time to go out." You suggested, taking Mycroft's plate to clear away after he had sent a nod to show he was finished. He made a small groan at the need to go at all, but soon acquiesced, sent a text for a car and stood to go to the front door. Tugging on a hoodie, you opened the door and took a step back, the wind shooting in your face and making you scowl. Mycroft made an amused sound and offered you the scarf of his that you had worn last night. Rather than taking the garment, you stood and waited for him to wrap it the same expert way that he had the night before. "I also text Greg to run by my flat and grab my coat so I'll be able to stop stealing your expensive scarves soon.. though this one feels so lovely I may text him again to leave it on the tube." You laughed, stepping back outside once again and walking with Mycroft to the end of the road where a car was waiting. Mycroft had wanted to respond, to make a comment about how he didn't mind letting you wear his things, how he actually quite liked it. But he stayed silent, offering a small smile instead and a soft hand at the small of your back. Mycroft opened the door for you, climbing in after and settling against the plush seats of the lavish car.

As the car began to move you tensed a little, a thought popping into your head.

"Myc.. does Sherlock know yet? About us? I might have hinted at it a little when I spoke to Lestrade earlier but I didn't press.. I just.. I didn't know if you were telling people." You asked awkwardly. Christ it made it sound like you were in some forbidden relationship. Mycroft's jaw clenched a little.

"I wasn't aware it was secret knowledge, if that's what you are asking Y/N. In response to your question, no. I haven't spoken to Sherlock at all since.." He trailed. "And I am not the sort of man to walk into a room and actively announce that kind of thing. But you should know that he will likely deduce it the moment we walk through the door being as you are wearing my clothing, your hair smells like my shampoo and your skin still has traces of the scent of my soap. So if you didn't want anybody to know, then I strongly suggest we rearrange our plans for this afternoon." Who was he kidding? Of course you didn't want people to know that you were actually together now- you would look ridiculous being such a pretty young woman with a man like Mycroft in tow. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "If you are going to say you could argue the soaps then it would simply be futile, he knows I have your regular brand at your disposal; he'd know you used mine in the form of... sentiment." The last word felt wrong on his tongue now, knowing you had hoped to keep your.. relationship.. behind closed doors. Mycroft Holmes was a very private man, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want knowledge of your relationship to be at least semi-public, having felt a little giddy when you'd chosen to cross that line with him.

"What? No, I wasn't going to talk about the sodding shampoo." You grinned, reaching a hand over to place on his knee. "Jesus Myc, I asked because I didn't know if YOU were comfortable with people knowing. I'm pretty sure everyone inside that flat knew I fancied you the last few years, I'd proudly walk in and show that my pining eventually paid off. I just know you have appearances to keep up and I didn't want to ruin that, or embarrass you in front of Sherlock." For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, your words surprised Mycroft. He felt his jaw loosen and he took a breath, moving only to briefly place his hand over yours for a small squeeze and moving back again. You didn't expect him to say much, he was Mycroft Holmes, not Romeo Montague, but the small smile you sent back his way let him know that you understood his thoughts. The drive to Baker Street was only 10 or so minutes from Mycroft's home so you soon arrived in no time at all, the slick black car smoothly pulling up outside number 221.

"I can only hope my dear brother deduces our relationship correctly and doesn't make a vast attempt to embarrass me in front of his peers.. again." Mycroft knocked on the door, his words casting you back to a Christmas you had all shared a couple years ago.

It was a small gathering, consisting of the pair of you, the Baker Street boys, Greg and Mrs Hudson, and a few weeks beforehand, after multiple arguments of whether or not presents should be shared, Mrs Hudson had come up with the wonderful (terrible) idea of secret Santa which, incase you wasn't aware, isn't a fun game when played with two Holmes' that knew everybody's present and Secret Santa before the packages were opened. You had pulled Mrs Hudson and couldn't have been more thrilled, neither could she when she opened her new tea set- a simple floral design decorated its sides, but she was thankful no matter the pattern, the last teapot having been found at the hands of Sherlock housing human eyes. Conveniently enough, Mycroft had pulled your name and elected to subtly buy you a personalised travel mug for work. After you had opened it, Sherlock had scoffed, muttering something along the lines of "Mycroft isn't that shit at buying presents. He bought you a necklace at first but felt too embarrassed to give it to you in such a public setting and panic bought that cup." Continuing on about how Mycroft had put a lot of thought into your original gift and how it was unusual and how it "obviously" meant he favoured you and was attracted to you. Mycroft had left shortly after that, not making eye contact with any of the silent people in the room and climbed into the back of his car, but you had followed suit and clambered in after him- easing the tension by ignoring Sherlock's allegations and giving him the envelope that you had in your pocket. You had told him you had bought him something special anyway, even though he wasn't who you were supposed to buy for, because you cared for and appreciated him- he had opened the envelope slowly and his eyes widened, that rare smile appearing on his face when he was presented with the Richard II tickets. After your exchange Mycroft had given you the necklace anyway, spouting derogatives about his brother's deductions as he did so. It was a small silver chain necklace with a sparkling silver pendant that, upon closer inspection, you had noticed was a police badge.

You smiled fondly at the memory and instinctively placed your hand above your sternum, feeling the small piece of metal beneath your clothing that you hadn't taken off in two years. You turned to face the man beside you a little more, placing a hand on his shoulder and reaching up on your tiptoes to place a lingering kiss on his lips, moving back only when you heard the latch unlock in front of you, and noticing the ever so slight pink tinge to Mycroft's bottom lip from the lip balm you had put on earlier. "That should make it easier to get it right." You commented, fighting the small grin from your face as you noticed Mycroft standing in the same way, lips parted slightly from where your own had been moments ago, a matching pink dusting his cheekbones. The door opened revealing a smug looking Sherlock.

"Be careful Mycroft, you'll catch flies like that if you aren't cautious enough."