little shits tbh


Red Dwarf 30 Day Challenge (by @rosandguildensterns​)

Day 1 - Favourite Crew Member: Arnold Judas Rimmer BSC, SSC

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Fear not, I’m the bloke who used to clean the gunk out of the chicken soup machines! Actually, we know sod all about space travel - but if you’ve got a blocked nozzle, we’re your lads!’”


francis: there are such things as ghosts. people everywhere have always known that. and we believe in them every bit as much as homer did. only now, we call them by different names. memory. the unconscious.
camilla: do you mind if we change the subject? please?

I hate that lately it’s become trendy for people to be SO confident to the level where they’re arrogant, cocky, and full of themselves. What happened to humility and self-awareness?Of course you should know your worth and value; but what’s more beautiful than someone who is aware of their faults and flaws, and always working on becoming a better person.


Sorry, but I don’t trust people that shit on Bellamy, called him white, demonized his character, compared him to a rapist, or titled him “Genocide King” and then suddenly ship him with Raven.

like ok here is why wilson is a great character:

  • he’s a 30-something year old forest hermit (goals tbh)
  • has social issues - dislikes parties and gatherings
  • passionate ((mad)) scientist - no really, LOVES SCIENCE SO MUCH
  • is a self-confident bordering on cocky little shit, vain and is obsessed with his hair
  • is also a sassy little shit tbh
  • VERY EMOTIONAL how refreshing for a main male character (in a gritty survival game no less) he might kinda look it at first but he ain’t all aloof and “I am a tough man I don’t have time for feelings” bullshit he acts like a person WOULD dealing with all this shit has little grumpy fits and can be petty and can be sad and out of control and terrified and silly and ecstatic and caring and excited
  • LOVES CHESTER (I mean who wouldn’t love chester but u know he’s not afraid to show it which is important chester needs cuddles)
  • just look at this I don’t even need words to explain this look at that face what a good guy 
  • loves his friends
  • likes and cares about animals
  • all his interactions with maxwell (I freakin love the childish-yet-completely-justified holy shit I hate you so much reaction and then they become begrudging allies and it’s like omg ur a huge goddamn softie)
  • but like he’s actually a gigantic ridiculous dork AND a gentle caring soul don’t let the steaming hot supervillain look fool u
  • “Go plants go!" 

conclusion: wilson is a sweet beautiful nerd and needs to be protected

So I’ve been really enjoying the au’s that @feynites and @selenelavellan and co. have been doing. For your consideration, here’s Marla the Wrath abomination. Probs in the reincarnation au.


The human man gave her an annoyed look, but did not stop his tirade. Marla was almost impressed by his tenacity.


He had started with his usual “who do you think you are?” and then threatened to call the police. Just like he did every time she came by to deliver a package to this estate.

She tended to tune him out around the time he got to “lazy knife-eared welfare leeches”, which was usually somewhere between her cheerfully announcing she needed his signature for his package, and him demanding she refund his delivery charge. It was old hat by now; he had some kind of medical condition that required home delivery biweekly. She’d been bringing him a package twice a month for the last 8 months.

He still hadn’t bothered to learn her name.

Or her face.

She was just another pair of ears to him, and that suited Marla just fine. She counted to 15 in her head, and snapped her gum obnoxiously again.


This time he did pause, his face screwed up like he’d tasted something sour.

“Don’t they teach you people ANY manners?!?” He demanded shrilly.

(He’s harmless) Wrath whispered. She knew that, of course, had confirmed it the first time she’d met him. His flavor of anger was bitter and petulant, but not overly concerning.

Marla just liked pissing him off.

She blew a decent sized bubble and let it pop. She made a show of getting the gum back in her mouth, and grinned.


Magister Kinios frowned impossibly deeper, and Marla got the distinct impression that Wrath was rolling it’s eyes at her. And at him. It had 5 eyes, it could do both and then some. It didn’t object though, little snacks like this were what got them through the day.

They were ahead of schedule, had another minute or so before she needed to move to the next delivery. He’d signed her log at some point during his rambling, but hadn’t given it back,  instead swinging it around and jabbing it at her face to emphasize his outraged squawking.


(We can lose the pen) she decided, and Wrath agreed. They had spares, and a job to do, and Wrath had gotten all it cared to from him.

Marla deftly snatched her logbook back from the Magister as he gestured at her with it, ignoring his spluttering as she double checked her dates and times.

(Satisfactory) said Wrath, pleased.

(It’s not a race) she reminded it.

Wrath did not respond, but she didn’t expect it to. She got the sense it was mentally shrugging. It could be prickly sometimes, and was prone to expressing itself nonverbally. Marla didn’t mind.

She turned to go and Magister Kinios practically shrieked.


“That sounds like a -you- problem, sir. Have a good day!” Marla waved placidly over her shoulder and blew another bubble as she walked out the gate, leaving the Magister to hurl insults and impotent threats at her back.

Next up was a delivery to one U. Elvhen.  Strange name, for this part of town. She’d delivered there before, of course, but nobody ever came to the gate. Just that large ugly bird. The one that would make the godawful screeching noise and try to look through her bag for treats. She’d taken to carrying a pouch of strawberries for it. Better than having it tear into a package and eat a customer’s intended delivery. Luckily for her, none of the items she’d delivered here had called for a signature. She’d leave the packages with Messere Bird, who would begrudgingly take them over the (heavily warded) gate, making disgruntled noises the whole time.

Sure enough, as she approached, the big ugly feathery lump was peering down from where it sat on top of the main gate. Marla took out her berry pouch in preparation for its customary dive bomb and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

…and apparently today it was not in the mood for snacks. Wrath noted the bird’s normal irritation at their arrival was lessened somewhat. Marla wondered idly if it was sick. It didn’t LOOK sick. Well. Anymore than usual anyway.

She stood outside the gate and looked up at the thing. It looked back down at her.


Two minutes passed. She COULD just leave the package on the step. Marla doubted anyone would try to steal it, not in this neighborhood, and not with several pounds of feathery fury watching from above.


Marla threw a strawberry at the bird.

It squawked, indignant and startled, and Wrath huffed. It didn’t care for Messere Bird. When she had asked it why, it hadn’t been able to say, exactly, except that it was ‘too strange’. Also that it’s particular flavor of teritorrial anger wasn’t very filling.

Marla didn’t mind, she wasn’t exactly normal herself.

The bird puffed itself up and made unhappy hissing noises, glaring down at her the whole while.

“Apologies Messere Bird, but you seemed to have forgotten how to greet visitors.” Marla said, amused.

It flapped its wings and looked offended, as much as a bird -could- look offended. Wrath kept to the background, eyeing the feathery thing with suspicion. It warbled at her in an unmistakably admonishing tone.

“Yes of course, my bad, I should have greeted you first. Do over?”

The bird appeared to be considering her offer. Or perhaps just the strawberries she was holding out as a peace offering. After a few seconds of disgruntled squawking, it swooped down gracefully and perched on a low branch.

“Right then, good afternoon Messere Bird, I have a delivery for you!” Marla made a show of doing a deep curtsy, and placed the plain brown package on the ground, holding the berries up towards the feathery menace.

With surprising delicacy it snatched one after another of the berries up with its wicked sharp beak. After it had eaten all of them it fluffed it’s feathers up a bit and made an a noise Marla could only describe as imperious.

“You’re welcome” she replied, because Messere Bird seemed to respond well to manners.

It cocked it’s head at her and clacked it’s beak, which she took as indication that she was free to go. Sure enough, as soon as she was an appreciable number of feet away, Messere Bird launched itself off its branch, and nabbed the package in one of its talons. It winged up over the tall gate and disappeared from view with only mild squawking. Marla shrugged and went on to her next delivery.

(We should get someone else to take this route) Wrath insisted, as it aways did whenever they had to deal with Messere Bird.

(I like this route) Marla told it, (and so do you. The snooty rich old people are easy meals.)

Wrath grumbled somewhat incoherently but couldn’t argue that.

(There’s something unsettling about that place) it said, finally, and Marla could feel her friend’s unease rippling around it.

(It’s probably the wards. You know those eccentric rich types, they’re so paranoid. It’s probably some kind of environmental charm to keep nosy kids out of the yard.)

Wrath hummed but said nothing. Marla wasn’t entirely convinced herself, but it wasn’t pressing enough to really investigate. If there was something hinky with that property or the owner well…

She’d burn that bridge when she got to it.