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[moonlightwritingf1]

Between Goodbyes and Forevers | LN4

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando has to leave to prepare for the new season, and Y/N is super sad and clingy. He comforts her, and they have emotional goodbye sex.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.6k

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex,

Based on this request.

Y/N’s apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside her floor-to-ceiling windows. The evening was winding down, but her mind was anything but calm. Lando lounged on her sofa, one arm draped casually over the back, his signature smirk playing on his lips. He’d been teasing her all night, his words light and playful, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made her heart race.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he remarked, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence. His gaze lingered on her, and she felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny.

“Just tired,” Y/N lied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Tired didn’t even begin to cover it. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Lando was leaving tomorrow, heading back to Monaco to prepare for the new Formula One season. She’d known this was coming, but now that the moment was here, it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.

“Bullshit,” Lando said with a chuckle, leaning forward slightly. His eyes narrowed, and that smirk turned into a knowing grin. “You’ve been clingy all evening. Not that I’m complaining,” he added, his tone softening.

“I haven’t been clingy,” Y/N retorted, though her voice lacked conviction. She hated how easily he saw through her.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been glued to my side all night. Even when I went to grab a drink, you followed me like a lost puppy.”

She opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it. He wasn’t wrong. She had been clingy, and she hated herself for it. She didn’t want to seem desperate or needy, but the thought of him leaving made her stomach churn.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her hands. “I just… I’m really going to miss you.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he moved closer to her on the sofa. His hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. “I’m going to miss you too, you know. More than I can say.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made her breath catch. For someone who was always so carefree and teasing, Lando had a way of making her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

“You’ll call me, right?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Every day,” he promised, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. “And I’ll FaceTime you after every race. You’ll be sick of me by the end of the season.”

Y/N managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She wanted to believe him, but there was a part of her that was terrified he’d forget about her. That she’d be just another girl he left behind.

Lando must have sensed her unease because he leaned in closer, his free hand cupping her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice like a warm blanket wrapping around her. “You’re not just some girl, Y/n. You’re everything to me. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she felt around him, but at the same time, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “What if… what if you meet someone else? Someone prettier, someone more….”

“Stop,” Lando interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. He tilted her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes. “There’s no one else. There’s only you. Always you.”

His words were like a balm to her insecurities, but they weren’t enough to completely erase the doubt gnawing at her. Before she could say anything else, Lando leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, but there was an underlying passion that made her pulse quicken.

When he pulled away, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the contact. “I’m not letting you go, Y/N,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Not now, not ever.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the heat pooling in her lower stomach. She wanted to believe him, to trust him completely, but it was hard. Harder than she’d ever admit.

“I love you,” she blurted out, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them.

Lando froze for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face, lighting up his features. “I love you too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “More than anything.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Before she could overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency.

Lando responded immediately, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that mirrored her own, and she could feel the heat between them growing with every passing second.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their chests rising and fallings rapidly. Lando’s eyes were filled with desire, and Y/n could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

Lando didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing down her sides to the hem of her shirt. He pulled it off slowly, his touch soft and deliberate.

Y/N bit her lip, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. She was so used to hiding her body, to covering up the parts of herself she didn’t like. But the way Lando looked at her made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

His hands moved to her bra, and she tensed slightly. “Lando, I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice soothing. “I love every inch of you, Y/n. Every scar, every curve. You’re perfect to me.”

His words melted her fears, and she relaxed as he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. His eyes roamed over her body, and she could see the hunger in them. It made her feel powerful, desired.

Lando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone before trailing his lips lower. His tongue flicked over her nipple, and she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

“Lando,” she moaned, her hands tangling in his hair.

He continued to tease her, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive her wild. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body trembling with need.

When he finally pulled away, she was a wreck, her chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes met hers, and there was a fire in them that made her stomach flip.

“I need you,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. He stripped off his clothes quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he finally joined her on the bed, she could feel the heat of his skin against hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

His lips found hers again, and he kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her body. Every touch, every kiss, was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.

He hovered above her, his weight pressing into the mattress, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, sending shivers up her spine. With a gentleness that made her chest tighten, he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her, teasing, testing.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening, lips parted in a silent plea. Lando didn’t break eye contact as he slowly pressed into her, inch by inch. The stretch burned just enough to make her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to him. He paused there, buried deep, letting her feel the full weight of him, the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this, for each other.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost pained. His jaw clenched, his forehead falling against hers as he struggled to hold still. “You’re so tight... so goddamn perfect.”

She could feel every pulse of him inside her, the heat of his skin searing into hers. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, drawing a low groan from his throat. It was overwhelming, the fullness, the intensity of it all. She felt owned, claimed, but not in a way that scared her. In a way that made her heart swell, as if this was where she was always meant to be.

Lando began to move then—slow, deliberate thrusts that made her head spin. Each stroke dragged against her walls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She arched into him, her legs wrapping tighter around his hips, urging him deeper, faster. But he kept his pace unhurried, his lips painting a trail of heat along her neck, her collarbone, anywhere his mouth could reach.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hand. Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. There was so much in those eyes—lust, yes, but something else too, something deeper. Something that made her chest ache with how much she felt for him.

She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the dampness of his skin. “I love you,” she whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret, a promise.

His breath caught, and he pressed his forehead against hers again, his thrusts faltering just for a moment. “I love you,” he breathed back, the words raw, unfiltered. And then he kissed her—deep, consuming, as if he could pour everything he felt through that one connection.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

She nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Always.”

Their bodies moved together in a rhythm so deliberate, so unhurried, it felt like time itself had slowed. Every deep, calculated thrust was more than physical; it was a conversation, a language only they spoke. Lando’s hips rolled into hers with an almost unbearable precision, every stroke dragging against her inner walls in a way that left her gasping, her nails carving faint crescents into his back.

She could feel the fullness of him stretching her, the way he filled every inch of her impossibly tight heat. The friction was torturous and exquisite all at once, a slow burn that coiled low in her belly, building with every movement. He leaned back slightly, supporting himself on one arm, his free hand roaming down her side to grip her hip. His fingers dug in just enough to anchor her, pulling her closer as he drove deeper, their bodies slapping together in a wet, dizzying rhythm.

“Look at me,” he said again, his voice rough, strained. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity there stole her breath. His pupils were blown wide, filled with desire and love.

She reached up, her fingers trembling as they traced the damp line of his jaw, the stubble scratching her fingertips. “Lando...” she whispered, her voice breaking halfway. It wasn’t a plea or a demand; it was a confession, a surrender.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he bent his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans whole. His tongue slid against hers, hot and demanding, mirroring the relentless pace of his hips. She could taste the desperation in him, the way he clung to her as though she might slip away.

And then his hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit in one fluid motion. She arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from her throat as he pressed firm circles there, the pressure exact and unrelenting. Her thighs clamped around his waist, her body tightening around him in waves that had him groaning into her mouth.

“Fuck, you feel... too good,” he rasped, his thrusts growing uneven, faltering as he lost control. His forehead dropped to hers, their breaths mingling, sweat-slick and frantic. “Y/n, I—”

She cut him off with a whimper, her orgasm crashing over her without warning, stealing her ability to think, to breathe. Her vision blurred, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her, sharp and all-consuming. And still he kept moving, dragging out her climax until tears pricked her eyes.

Her name fell from his lips again, this time a choked sound, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hips jerked sharply, once, twice, before he buried himself deep, his release spilling into her in thick, pulsing waves. He collapsed onto her, his weight heavy and warm, their chests heaving in unison.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the two of them, tangled together, heartbeats syncing as they came down from the high.

Lando’s fingers traced the curve of her jawline, his touch feather-light, as if memorizing every detail of her face. His lips pressed against her forehead, lingering there, soft and unhurried. The warmth of his breath against her skin sent a shiver through her, and she nestled closer, her arms tugging his tighter around her. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, grounding her, anchoring her to this moment.

“I’m going to miss you,” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, like a secret she couldn’t hold in anymore. Her breath hitched, the weight of his impending departure pressing heavily on her chest. “So much.”

Lando’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her temple in a lingering kiss. “I’m going to miss you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Every second I’m away from you will feel like a lifetime.”

She tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes searching his face. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, his eyes filled with a love that made her chest ache. “Promise me,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, “that you’ll come back to me.”

“Always,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the ache in it. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. “You’re my home, Y/n. No matter where I am, I’ll always come back to you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her lips curving into a small, radiant smile. “I love you,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions.

“I love you more,” he replied, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “More than I’ve ever loved anything.”

Her eyelashes fluttered shut as she leaned into him, her body melting against his. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and utterly loved. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, holding onto each other as if nothing else mattered. The warmth of his embrace, the softness of his touch, the depth of his love— it was all she needed, all she ever wanted.

And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet stillness of the night, Y/n knew, without a doubt, that no matter the distance, no matter the time, he would always be hers. And she would always be his.

[dollyfetti]

　𐔌　you love me? ₊˚ ♡

︵︵　notes: bimbo!reader x nerd!bakugou, , valentines drabble, slightly suggestive (reader mentions lingerie), fluffy, katsuki is a little insecure, most of this is unedited, ALSO just bc he goes to the gym doesnt make him a macho man he is still a little dweeb!!!!!!!! ︵︵　word count: 1.4k

you lie sprawled across your pink, plushie-filled bed, while your boyfriend sits at the foot, tying his shoelaces with unhurried precision. mindlessly, your hand strokes your purring kitten as you gaze up at the ceiling, your legs swinging lazily back and forth. “i mean, i would work out, because it's like healthy and whatever,” you say, turning your head to watch as katsuki stands up to grab his headphones from your desk. “but like... it’s just so gross! you get all sweaty, and you have to like... lift super heavy weights.”

"that reminds me," katsuki grumbles to himself, grabbing his key and shoving it into his pocket. "i needa put together that bike fa you."

you hum in confusion, sitting up and pulling princess onto your lap. the tiny kitten meows softly before scampering over to the edge of the bed where katsuki stands. “i dunno how to ride a bike,” you huff, watching as katsuki’s large hand gently rests on the kitten’s back.

he grins lightly, lifting princess into his arms. “it’s a stationary bike, baby. all ya haveta do is sit on it and move your legs.” he scratches princess behind the ears before gently setting her back down and walking toward you.

rising to your knees, you reach for his face, pulling him down for a brief goodbye kiss. he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip before pulling away, playfully squishing your cheeks in his hand. you grin and flop back down onto the bed. “and people say smart people can’t be hot,” you tease, dramatically flinging your hand for emphasis.

"ya, ya, whatever." he tsks in faux annoyance, though he really is a whore for your dumb comments. "don't do anythin stupid while m gone. got it?" he points toward your figure before marching to the door.

you glance up at him upside down, your expression soft and hazy. “yes, sir!” you chirp with a salute, but your acrylics accidentally scratch your forehead, making you shriek.

katsuki grins and shakes his head, stepping out the door, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

as soon as the door thuds shut, you're up on your toes, startling your cat in a flurry of excitement. it's valentine's day, and of course, bakugou didn't remember. or maybe he did, and just didn't think it was important. well, you do. you love the cheesy movies and dorky affection that come with the holiday. and you were gonna give your boyfriend the best valentine's ever!!

as his first girlfriend— and hopefully his last— you’re determined to make this day unforgettable. you rush to your closet, pulling out a box of decorations you’ve carefully chosen. dropping to your knees, you pull out heart-shaped streamers and fake rose petals, your face lighting up as you shout at alexa to play a romantic playlist. by the time you’ve hung everything and scattered the last petal into place, you suddenly remember the candle you lit earlier to set the mood. gasping, you blow it out and look around, wondering if the sweet scent is really that essential. yeah..! no biggie.

“okay…” you whisper to yourself, surveying the transformed apartment. glitter and flowers fill every corner. you had also bought a seductive red lingerie set, but when should you wear it? well, you should put it on now, but you don’t want to ruin the ambiance with your impatience. and all your hard work would get ruined! maybe after taking some pictures...

as you stand there, trying to use your brain for once, the sound of a key turning in the door lock startles you. you spin around, wide-eyed. you weren't expecting him back until later!

"I'M NOT READY!" you shout, peering down at your messy appearance. but bakugou's already inside, his eyes widening at the unexpected apartment makeover.

he freezes for a moment, his bag hitting the floor with a soft thump. his fingers run through his sweaty hair as he takes in your eager, pouty face. you shuffle toward him, wringing your hands nervously. “you weren’t supposed to see it yet…!”

he chuckles, pushing up his glasses before kissing your head, still taking in the sight around him. "i text you earlier when you were at the store sayin i was only gonna be an hour. you didn' see?"

you look up, pausing to recall... nope, nothin!

"ohh." you hum. you rub your lips together before spreading your arms out wide. "well, happy valentine's day!!"

katsuki's almost- awkward? he nods, tapping his fingers against his leg. it's like he's unsure of how to respond. he exhales, quickly swooping in to peck your cheek before heading into the kitchen.

you blink at the spot where he was just standing, confusion flooding your chest. what's wrong with him??? you spin around slowly, watching him pull a glass out of the cupboard. you tiptoe after him, cautious as if he'll run away if you move too fast. "do you... not like it?" you ask softly, your eyebrows bent in uncertainty.

without turning around, he pours himself a glass of water. “uh, yeah, i do,” he mutters, taking a sip while his crimson eyes remain fixed on the floor. the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. it’s the complete opposite of the atmosphere you were hoping for. a lump forms in your throat, and you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for something, anything, to break the tension.

his gaze lifts, catching your troubled expression. with a grunt, he places his glass down and strides toward you. his hands find your cheeks, rough yet gentle as he holds your face in his palms, humming quietly at the softness of your skin.

"i do like it." he mutters, swiping a tear that had just fallen from your eye. "s nice."

your pout deepens, dropping your head onto his chest. "did it cuz i love you and i thought you'd be more excited..."

all of the air in katsuki's body suddenly leaves him.

his heart patters against his chest, louder than it ever has before. time slows down as the words you said too casually hang in the air between you. in your head, it's obvious you both love each other. you've been together for over a year, and you make it known every day how much you adore katsuki bakugou. but for some reason, you've never said it until today. maybe it's because you're trying to make him feel better or maybe you're just an idiot who doesn't understand the weight of what you just uttered.

love. does he love you? probably. is he smart enough to actually form the words, look into your eyes, and offer a piece of himself in return? maybe. or maybe not. katsuki bakugou deems himself as the smartest. but in this moment, with your body against his, for the first time in forever, he feels dumb.

hesitantly, he pulls back, meeting your teary gaze with his own. his breath catches, and his lips suddenly yearn for yours. his breath hitches in his throat. “you… love me?” he blurts out, his voice tinged with disbelief.

you blink, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “…yeah?” you smile, as if it’s obvious— because it is.

"oh." katsuki breathes out with a nod, his face flushing slightly. "that's cool." he mutters, yknow, like a moron.

but you already know. you don't need to hear it from him. why would you? he shows you every day too. in little ways, like how he knows exactly how to make your coffee or how he melts into you whenever he's overwhelmed. you're not too smart, "not the sharpest lightbulb in the shed", as you say. but you're not blind. you silently hear, "i love you. i need you." from katsuki in every moment you spend together. and that's enough.

you nod with a dorky grin spreading across your lips. "ya." you giggle, watching him visibly relax. you hum, leaning closer to the man to inhale his scent. "i was gonna put on a little show for you when you got home..."

katsuki smirks, raising a brow. "well, go on then. don't keep me waiting long." his hand reaches for the back of your head, pulling your forehead against his lips, leaving a loud smooch against the skin. you smile toothily, skipping into the bedroom.

the blond sighs dreamily, looking around the apartment. maybe it's about time you two move in together.

♡ ‿‿🍭 taglist @coldember

[lvnleah]

the boss | bug’s adventures.

The tactical analysis room was your favourite place to be before training. It was warm, full of voices you knew, and best of all, you got to run around and say hello to everyone before settling into Lotte’s lap with your daily smoothie.

You were only three, but as far as you were concerned, you were just as important as anyone else in the room. Maybe even more.

“Alright, who let the little troublemaker in?” Beth teased as you ran past her chair, your little trainers squeaking against the floor.

You stopped in your tracks and gave her the best glare you could manage. “I not trouble!”

Beth smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, really?”

You pointed at her accusingly. “You is.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Renee, standing by the screen at the front, just shook her head fondly. “I don’t know she any of you even try arguing. You know She always wins.”

You grinned and took a dramatic sip from your smoothie which was just like Lotte’s, but without the weird protein stuff. Just fruit. Because you were very clear that the other stuff was, in your words, yucky.

“Careful, bug,” Renee added, watching as you took off running again. “We don’t need any injuries before training!”

“I’m fast,” you declared proudly. “Faster than all of ‘ou.”

That earned some amused scoffs from around the room.

“Oh yeah?” Alessia grinned, reaching out to tickle your side as you ran past her. “Faster than me?”

You giggled, swatting at her hand. “Yep.”

Alessia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Wow, just like that? No hesitation?”

“Nope.”

Emily, sitting next to her, snickered. “She’s got no mercy, Less.”

“None at all,” Alessia agreed. “I might cry.”

“You big,” you pointed out matter-of-factly, tilting your head at her. “You can’t cry.”

“Hey bug, be nice yeah?” Lotte reminded you, “It’s okay for anyone to cry, we need to be nice to everyone, okay?”

“I always nice, Mummy!” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest, “It’ okay to cry, Lessi!” You said, patting her knee. 

“Thank you for your permission, bug,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. 

Lotte, watching from her chair with an amused smile, patted her lap. “Alright, Bug, come here before you actually take someone out.”

You made one more dramatic sprint across the room before clambering onto Katie’s lap first, because she always let you get away with things like stealing her hat. You plopped it onto your head, adjusting it until it sat just right.

“Oi, that’s mine,” Katie pointed out. “Yer’ a little devil!”

You crossed your arms. “Mine now.”

Katie smirked. “Oh yeah? And what if I take it back?”

You narrowed your eyes, gripping the hat tighter. “I’ll tell Mummy.”

The room erupted in laughter again, and Lotte raised an eyebrow. “What am I supposed to do about it, Bug?”

You thought about it for a second before shrugging. “Dunno but you fix stuff.”

With that, you wiggled off Katie’s lap and made your way over to Leah, who lifted you easily onto her knee. “Oi, what about me little miss? No hello?”

You grinned. “Hi, Le.” Then, very seriously, you added, “Mummy’s smoothie is still yucky.”

Kyra burst out laughing. “Tell her again, I don’t think she heard you.”

You turned in your seat, looking right at Lotte. “Yucky smoothie!”

Lotte sighed dramatically. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Emily leaned over, grinning. “What’s wrong with it, Bug?”

You wrinkled your nose. “It’ got bits and it’ green.”

Alessia laughed. “The spinach?”

You nodded furiously. “Yucky.”

Beth leaned in with a teasing grin as she tickled your stomach. “But what if that’s what makes Mummy strong, huh? Maybe you need some ‘yucky bits’ to get as fast as you say you are.”

You squealed. “No! I don’ need bits to be fast! I’m already fast!” You turned to Renee, who was still standing at the front, arms crossed and watching the chaos with a fond smile. “Tell ‘em, you the boss!”

Renee chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, I believe you, Bug. But maybe you should prove it, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up, and before anyone could stop you, you wiggled off Leah’s lap and bolted across the room, dodging between chairs and weaving past legs like a little whirlwind. “See? Fast!”

Lotte just sighed, watching you bounce on your toes, clearly ready to take off again. “Bug, come here before you knock someone over.”

You sighed dramatically, because everything you did had to be dramatic, but made your way back over to Lotte, climbing onto her lap with a huff. She adjusted you easily, one arm wrapped around you as she took a sip of her smoothie.

You wrinkled your nose again. “Still yucky, stinky too!”

Katie reached over, tapping your nose lightly. “You know, for someone who says they’re nice, you’re very passionate about Mummy’s smoothie.”

“I am nice!” you insisted. “I just tell the truth.”

Beth laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”

Renee clapped her hands once, bringing the room’s attention back to her. “Alright, enough distractions. You lot have training, and I’ve got things to go over.”

You sighed again, clearly unimpressed by the change in focus. “Boring.”

“Hey,” Renee scolded lightly, though her smile gave her away. “You like it in here, don’t you?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your smoothie. “Yeah. ‘Cause I get cuddles. I be the boss today?”

The whole room laughed, and Lotte pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Alright, little miss Sassypants, time to behave while Renee talks.”

You huffed but snuggled closer, resting your head against Lotte’s shoulder. “Okay… but after, I wanna race.”

Renee raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And who are you challenging?”

You grinned, eyes scanning the room before pointing directly at Alessia. “Lessi!”

The room exploded with laughter. “Oh, so first I’m not allowed to cry, and now you wanna embarrass me in a race?” Alessia laughed. 

You nodded. “Yep.”

Emily leaned in, grinning. “Better warm up, Less.”

You beamed, wiggling excitedly in Lotte’s lap. “I gonna win.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Alessia teased. “I might have to drink a special yucky smoothie to make sure I’m fast enough.”

You scrunched your nose in horror. “No, Lessi, don’t do it!”

The room erupted in laughter again, and Lotte chuckled, squeezing you tighter. “Alright, that’s enough troublemaking for now.”

You giggled, leaning back against Lotte’s chest, content as the chatter settled and Renee started talking again. You were a little whirlwind and no one minded your little personality. 

[riareadsvt]

Take Care of Me — KMG

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader | wc: 616. genre: sick fic, fluff, caretaking, established relationship. warnings: mingyu being dramatic, lots of cuddling, mentions of fever and mild illness, reader being endlessly patient with him.

Mingyu was never one to admit weakness. He was the guy who carried the heaviest grocery bags, stayed up late perfecting dance routines, and took pride in taking care of others. But today?

Today, he was a sniffling, blanket-bundled mess.

And Mingyu was, without a doubt, the worst patient in the world.

Not only was he stubborn, but he was also ridiculously dramatic about it.

“I’m never getting better,” he declared, flopping onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. “This is it for me.”

You stood at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Mingyu, you said that three hours ago, and yet, here you are. Alive.”

“Barely,” he mumbled, burying his face into his pillow.

You rolled your eyes but softened as you saw him curl up under the blankets again. He really did look miserable his cheeks still flushed from the fever, lips slightly dry, and his hair an absolute mess from tossing and turning.

You reached out, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered open slightly at your touch, and he let out a small hum, leaning into your palm.

“Drink some water,” you said gently, grabbing the glass from the nightstand.

Mingyu groaned but took it from you, gulping down a few sips.

“You’re such a baby when you’re sick,” you teased.

He huffed, setting the glass down. “Well, usually I’m the one taking care of you. This is weird.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Mingyu was always the one fussing over you making sure you ate, fixing things in your apartment before you even realized they were broken, and practically shielding you from the cold by wrapping you up in his coat.

So maybe it made sense that he didn’t know how to be taken care of.

“Y/N…” he mumbled, his voice quieter this time.

You hummed in response, sitting on the bed beside him.

His lips jutted out slightly in a small, pathetic pout. “You’re gonna leave me when I fall asleep, aren’t you?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You need to rest.”

Mingyu looked down at the blanket, fingers fidgeting with the fabric.

“…You don’t have to stay, you know,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Your heart squeezed at that. He sulked, avoiding your gaze like a kicked puppy.

You sighed, shifting so that you were fully sitting beside him. Without a word, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers.

“I want to be here, Mingyu.” You squeezed his hand gently. “I’m doing this because I care.”

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he was speechless.

“…You really do, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You smiled softly. “Of course, I do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as Mingyu relaxed under your touch. Then, as if remembering something important, he suddenly dragged you down onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you before you could protest.

“Mingyu!” you yelped, struggling slightly in his grasp. “You’re going to get me sick!”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring, “Worth it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh but stopped fighting against his hold. He was warm maybe a little too warm from the fever but the way he was clinging to you, all big and soft and needy, made your heart ache in the best way.

His voice was drowsy when he spoke again. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

You sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Fine.”

Mingyu let out a content hum, snuggling closer. “You’re the best.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his messy hair. “I know.”

And as Mingyu drifted off, his breathing evening out, you couldn’t help but think maybe he was the strong one most of the time, but in moments like these, you didn’t mind being the one to hold him up.

The End.

a/n — this is my response to that one anon that requested a sick fic of mingyu as a big baby, if you reached this far, thank you for reading! I hope you have a horanghae day 💕

[soongyeopsal]

Friends & Family

Summary: Hansol gives you a deal that you didn’t even need to bargain for.

▸ Pairing: Vernon x afab!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / humor, smut, pwp / best friend’s brother, friends to lovers If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), mentions of creampie 

▸ Word Count: 3.1k

▸ A/N: Happy valentine’s day weekend! Surprise @yoonguurt, I’m your secret cupid! 💖💖💖 Really hope you enjoy this lil romp! Thank you @ddeonghwa-s for hosting this lovely event. Don’t forget to peep everyone else’s entries for this as well, masterlist here! Eternal thank you to @onlymingyus for helping me figure this out in secret (I was convinced I’d accidentally spill the beans if I discussed this publicly lol) and to @shuadotcom for always supporting me and proofreading at all hours!

It’s Sunday night and you’ve almost finished working through your weekly routine. Your counters are clean, laundry is folded, and tasks for the days ahead are laid out. All that’s left is to unwind so you can drift off to sleep. 

Both of your pillows are stacked behind you, propping you upright in bed for the perfect angle to unravel. “Fuck,” you groan to no one breathlessly, eyes trained on your laptop. You’re so so close, one hand spreading your lower lips apart as the other times the push of your dildo with the cock on screen. 

The actors in this week’s selected porno aren’t what’s important: the content is. Your mind conjures up different faces over the talents’, further molding the fantasy to who you want most at the moment. On nights like tonight, ones where no one in particular is on your mind, you default to your oldest, silliest crush: your best friend’s younger brother, Hansol. 

Back on the screen, the cameraman has the lens nearly inside the actress’ pussy along with not-Handol’s dick. It’s even easier to imagine the two of you like this, reduced to exaggerated moans, the slapping of skin, and the squelch of arousal as you stand on the precipice of release. You squeeze the base of your dildo harder when not-Hansol’s thrusts lose their rhythm, thrusting into yourself eagerly alongside him. 

There’s a flash behind your eyelids when you tilt your head back as your climax hits you, perfectly in time with your entertainment. It’s not the hardest you’ve ever cum, but it gets the job done just like it does every week without fail. 

By the time the casts’ voices return to a normal octave, the strongest part of your high has worn off. Sitting up with silicone still nestled inside you as you return to earth, you reach blindly for the water bottle on your nightstand. The embrace of sleep is calling your name and you try uncapping the bottle with one hand while the other lands on your laptop’s trackpad, ready to close the browser. You’re honestly just looking for your cursor among the flashy popups on the side of the video player, but you can’t help the way you clench around the toy and shiver as you get an eyeful of creampie that you missed in your own bliss.

You also can’t help the comical juggling that you attempt when you feel your water bottle slipping from your fingers. Or the loud swear as cold water meets your front and the keyboard of your laptop. Despite your best efforts to flip it upside down to drain as much liquid as possible from the keys, the screen flickers. 

By the time you’ve dried off and changed your sheets, things don’t look much better. So much for the Sunday night routine. All it’s done is give you yet another problem to worry about tomorrow.

Y/N: holy shit they’re trying to rob me

Livvy: ?? hello?

Y/N: computer place quoted me 1k BASE to fix my shit.. said they have to replace a bunch of stuff

Livvy: um why dont you just call vern?

Y/N: your brother?

Y/N: why would i call him?

Livvy: yes?

Livvy: omg because he has a repair shop, please keep up

Y/N: omg you’re so right! 

Y/N: oo think he’ll give me a friends and family discount?

Livvy: he better or i’ll kick his ass

Y/N: i’ll tell him you said hi

Y/N: wait i don’t have his number lol can you send it?

Your family’s home is next to the Chwe’s, so it’s only natural that you and Olivia have been fixtures in each other’s lives since childhood. You went from neighbors to friends to sisters and although Hansol, only 2 years younger, was always there, he maintained a guarded distance. At first it’d annoyed you, catching him looking away when you tried to include him in conversation or excusing himself from gatherings as soon as possible. This went on for a few years until irritation gave way to disappointment. You liked when Hansol came around, actually. Sure, you’d tease him here and there, but it was always lighthearted and familiar. The kind of gentle ribbing reserved for people you’re most comfortable around. Despite trying to convey that the boy was welcome around you, however, he always seemed uncomfortable. It wasn’t until junior year of high school that Olivia finally spelled out what was happening: Hansol had a crush on you that bordered on infatuation. And you were the only one that hadn’t figured it out.

The revelation was surprising, but not unwelcome. Hansol had always been funny and kind, meshing well with most people he came across. Some might have seen a flaw in how quiet he could be, though you spotted an attentiveness that, if you thought on it too long, you wanted. 

And think too long, you did. You thought about dating Hansol for so long that you graduated, then he graduated, then you both went to university and danced the same dance once more. Always thinking, yet no action. With life getting busier and priorities changing after securing your degree, your late-realized puppy love dissolved into a fond memory that you dug up on the occasional Sunday night. You’d see Hansol a few times a year when your families got together for holidays or celebrations, but old habits lived on. A hello, a quip or two, then the rest of the evening was spent focusing on your own agendas.

It’s been a few months since you’ve heard Hansol’s voice and even longer since you’ve seen him in person, but you recognize him all the same when he picks up. “Butterfingers, how can we help?”

“Isn’t this your cell phone?”

Hansol pauses and you could swear he pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Hello?” he asks, almost disbelieving. 

Years of childhood playdates and awkward teenage glances flood your memory and you instinctively tease him. “‘Hello?’ You and Liv are the same, I swear.”

“Aah, Y/N,” Hansol recovers, “That’s true, but we are related so.” There’s another beat and it’s so easy to imagine those brown eyes looking into yours, waiting for you to speak again. When you don’t, he offers, “Did you need something or…?”

You’re grateful that you opted to make the call from your car during your lunch break, far from eyes that could watch you shake thoughts of Hansol from the forefront of your mind. “Yeah, actually. My computer’s fucked up. Do you think I could bring it by the shop?”

“O-oh yeah, for sure, definitely! Yes!” He stops to clear his throat before continuing, almost like he’s grounding himself. “We close at 7 if you wanna drop by today.”

“Awesome, thanks Hansol. I’ll stop by after work.”

Butterfingers Repair is nestled between a smoke shop and a family-run tax office, just a handful of storefronts still open in a nondescript strip mall on the other side of town. No wonder you’ve never been here. 

A local alt rock station plays on the wall mounted speakers, but there are no other signs of life when you come through the door. There’s no one behind the counter and with the staff door behind it closed, you have no idea who to expect to greet you. A few moments pass and you start getting second thoughts. Maybe you’re at the wrong location after all? Just as you take out your phone to double-check the address Hansol sent, the staff door swings open. “Hey! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Hansol has always been easy on the eyes. Watching him grow from clumsy kid to gawky teen to unpolished (but handsome) college student never changed that, but you’ll admit it’s been a while since you’ve really looked at him. Present day Hansol is taller than you, broad-shouldered, and hot, having fully grown into his features.

Fixing your laptop is suddenly your second priority. If you play your cards right – if you play Hansol right – you could accomplish a lot today. “Sounds like you guys need a receptionist.”

“Yeah, haha,” he laughs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “It’ll be first on my list when I can afford the payroll.”

“Ooh, moving up to management, are we? That’s cool!”

“Well yeah, I mean–like it’s my shop. So, like, I’m the only employee right now.”

“You own this, though. I like that. You should be proud.”

“Thanks,” Hansol hums, shifting to pointedly stare at your laptop bag and avoid your gaze. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

You keep your tone casual, giving him some grace for the painful redirect.” Right, so I kinda sorta spilled water on my laptop. It was just – c’mon don’t look at me like that, you haven’t even seen it yet. It was just a few days ago and I flipped it to try and let it dry but…” Placing it on the counter and tapping the power button confirms no improvements since you last checked. The keyboard lights up and the fan whirs, but there’s nothing on the screen. 

Hansol’s shaking his head before he even speaks. “Even after it fully dries, you’re gonna need a new display.”

“Can you do it?”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

He grimaces through his words, clearly pained by the idea of telling you anything you might not be ready to hear. “It’s probably gonna be expensive. You sure you want a quote?”

“Mm, less of a want, more of a need.”

“Gotcha…” Hansol needs a moment to decide on whatever options are running through his mind. You afford it to him and are pleased when he hops the counter to go lock the front door. “Come on back, Y/N,” he says without looking at you, breezing past to unlock the staff door and usher you in.

Hansol seems almost relieved to be focused on your machine as the two of you sit in his humble workshop. You’ve helped yourself to the folding chair next to his, asking “well where else can I wait, Vern?” when your knees touch under the table and he nearly jumps out of his skin. 

You’d planned to chat him up to help pass the time, but watching Hansol work proves to be rightfully interesting. He’s surprisingly nimble with his hands, carefully removing endless screws and drying any damp parts he finds as he goes. “So,” he finally explains, breaking you out of a trance, “the water damage actually isn’t that bad. The new screen’s gonna hurt, though. This is a nice pc, you’ve got.”

At last, he’s given you the opening you’ve been waiting for. “How much will it hurt, exactly?”

“After parts and labor, like $700.”

“That’s not bad.” And it’s really not, compared to your last quote. But you want more. “Got a friends and family discount for me, by chance?”

“Oh, uh, friends and–um–?” Hansol fumbles, flustered yet again at having to potentially tell you no. “I don’t normally–”

You’ve known Hansol long enough to gauge when it’s best to strike and his forehead’s got OPPORTUNITY written on it. You maneuver into his lap sideways, anchoring an arm around his neck and finding his eyes through his fringe, smiling wickedly as he visibly short circuits. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, with one hooking under your knee and the other jumping like he’s been burned when his fingers skitter across your leg that’s barely covered by your skirt in this position. “Can’t you make an exception for me, Vernon?” 

Hansol is desperately trying not to drop you while also surviving this dream? interaction. The nickname you reserve for when you really want something seems to electrocute him and the fingers hooked under your knees press into your skin. “I can waive the cleaning fee, n-no worries,” he soldiers on, his hand still trying and failing to find a way to support your hip without outright holding it. “I-It’s the display replacement that’s, uh–” you shift in his lap, “accidentally” grinding against his crotch, “–screens are kinda pricey, y-you know what I mean?”

It’s difficult to hide just how fun this pursuit is and even harder to ignore the dampness in your panties. Knowing that you’re this close to fulfilling a fantasy already has all of your blood going south. “I think I can offer you something pricey. Do you know what I mean?” 

“You’re worth way more than a screen, Y/N.” Hansol is delightfully flushed, but his tone is earnest. “You’re priceless.”

“That’s really cute. You’re really cute, you know that?”

Hansol tries to laugh away his nerves, but the sound he makes is more distressed than anything. “Thanks. I really – like really – like you. I’m into you, I mean.”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest before you can stop yourself. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Wanna show me?”

“Show you? I-I mean, yeah! Of course, I’d love to– I mean, I want to. Shit.”

“Take a breath for me.”

“Y-You’re right, sorry.” Hansol grasps you harder and breathes in through his nose, closing his eyes. He opens them again on the exhale and bores right into yours. His expression is determined mixed with something you’ve never seen in him before. It’s too new for you to place it yet, but whatever it is, it’s the sexiest you’ve seen him yet. “Yeah, I can show you. I really want to.”

Using the hand that’s wrapped around Hansol’s shoulder, you tug at his hair to expose his neck. The smell of his cologne hits you with full force and your eyes roll while you kiss his bare skin. Hansol wastes no time even as he shivers under your touch, gently guiding your leg to the side so he can reach your clothed core. The angle is a bit weird like this, halfway between his lap and the floor, but the inelegance is forgotten when he moves your panties to the side and teases your opening with two fingers.

For the first time all evening, you’re the one who seems surprised. Hansol’s cold fingers feel incredible as they gather wetness from your folds. You gasp at the sensation and outright moan when he experimentally licks your essence from them before thoroughly sucking the digits dry. “That’s so fucking good, wow,” he marvels more to himself than to you. 

Hansol’s fingers return to your entrance and he pushes them in slowly when he finds no resistance. “Shit,” he gasps, awestruck by the pressure of your walls.

“Shit,” you gasp alongside him, enjoying how his fingers curl into you. Your earlier vibrato is nowhere to be found, replaced with a need for Hansol that you’ve been repressing for what feels like a lifetime.

You continue on like this, with Hansol swearing at the ceiling even as he causes you to melt against him. He’s happy to enjoy the way you wriggle against him as he brings you closer to your end. Your orgasm builds quickly and just as you’re about to succumb to his ministrations, his fingers are gone. A frustrated whine leaves you before you can stop yourself. “No, please!”

Hansol doesn’t explain at first, just removes you from his lap so you can take his place while he kneels between your legs under the table.”This is better,” he declares.

This is even sexier than you could have imagined, but having your orgasm ripped away still leaves you pouty. “Is it? I was about to cum.”

“Oh. My bad.” Hansol supplies no other commentary and leans in to apologize to your pussy instead. You want to be annoyed at him, but your reprimand morphs into a breathless moan when his tongue replaces the spot his digits once occupied. 

Ever-diligent, Hansol makes up for lost time immediately. He eats you out like this might be his only chance to, like he wants to imprint this exact moment into your memory. The man only pulls away when he absolutely has to for air, taking huge breaths before diving back in to test the limits of his lung capacity. It’s not until you cum twice and he tries to return to your swollen lips for a third time that you realize he’s content to keep you here indefinitely if it means drinking up more of the nectar that’s creaming around your entrance. 

“Hansol!” You have to yank him away before your brain 404s from overstimulation. 

He scoots closer to rest his head in your lap, dopey grin on his face. “Hansol, no Vern? That means I did really good.” 

Rolling your eyes, you card your fingers through his hair to gaze upon him unobstructed. Hansol is striking in this position between your legs, mouth and chin wet with arousal. “Yeah, really good.. I need a break though, sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? That was awesome!” For all of his stuttering and nervousness, Hansol is shockingly casual now. It’s as if getting to taste you was the hint he needed that you liked him as much as he liked you. “Want me to replace your screen, still?”

Right, the laptop repair. It feels silly to talk about this with the smell of your sex in the air, but you follow his lead. “Yes, please. Don’t worry about the discount, I was just kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” Hansol finally crawls from under the table and stretches. He’s not shy about adjusting the bulge in his pants though he makes no mention of it. “About liking you, I mean. I can waive the rest of this, it’s no big deal.” Your intention was never to genuinely trade sex for repairs - especially when you’re the only one to be serviced so far. The thought must be written all over your face because he continues, “I was going to knock down the price for you before all this anyway, seriously. We’ll just count this as a courtesy repair. Sound good?”

“Are you sure?” you ask, eyes darting to his dickprint and then back up to his face. 

It’s Hansol’s turn to laugh at how uncertain you seem, enjoying the irony of how your roles seem to have reversed. “I’m sure.”

Thirty minutes and a thorough cloth bath later, Hansol slides your open laptop in front of you. “Go ahead and sign in. Let’s make sure everything works.”

Even though you watched the repair in real time, it feels like magic when you type in your password and your lock screen falls away. That fascination immediately becomes mortification when the last window you had open reminds you of how you got here. 

There’s no missing the cock in the video thumbnail or the header above it that reads Giving my sister’s best friend a creampie. 

“Oh!” Hansol exclaims simply as his eyebrows shoot up. 

“Don’t!” you yell, slamming the laptop shut. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“I kinda like what it looked like, though… Can we?”

“I–well. Maybe. Sure. Yeah.”

“Only if you want to.”

“I want to.”

“Ok cool.”

“Cool.”

[ithinkicantdie]

I'll put a little bit of text here that felt too long to put in the tags but I know it doesn't really matter that much to other people what I think so I won't force myself to make any of the words I'm putting down make sense.

First point I wanted to make in the tags I started writing out was that I don’t think "girls' girl" should be included in this list because it’s a newer variation of the term "women supporting women" which I very much prefer as a positive counterpart in order to replace others like the extremely widely used "pick me girl" or just "pick me" because I think it is more important to celebrate the solidarity rather than use shame to point out when someone’s internalized misogyny is being a little too external.

"Girl math" as a term could be replaced with a different term for the logic that people are putting behind it but most of the posts are about consumerism and spending money so any far-left leaning people who identify with communism, socialism or just anti-capitalism (ily all, keep fighting for change) likely wouldn't use terms like that anyway so there wouldn't be much of a point. I do genuinely think we can let that whole trend go with just the superficial analysis of "people are trying to justify spending money by saying they aren't actually spending as much as they could be" but we could also go further into why we are made to feel shame for buying superfluous things or why we have to use the money we need to live in order to be happy and being happy when you're trying to stay alive feels impossible but the shame of spending money on things that make you happy compounds on top of that.

I associate bimbocore with Chrissy Chlapecka the most and she is very unapologetic about the bimbo videos to my knowledge because they make a lot of anti fascist posts but there are some problems she has to deal with due to being an influencer with low self esteem and rarely posting to social media at all without a full face of makeup while not wanting to encourage other people to also be that way. I also think the general public are trying to move away from saying things like whore and slut and skank because social media is all about being aesthetically pleasing and it's not about how much of a whore you are on the inside but how much of a bimbo you look or act like on the outside. The connotations of bimbo do point out how often sensuality and intelligence are thought of as at odds with one another in women but thought of as being found together very often in men and you could make an argument that women are being strong-armed into once again giving up when it comes to trying to be respected and revered for their personal accomplishments and they are actively being told to revert back to striving for superficial beauty standards to reach any amount of success. I could dive into that for hours honestly.

"Girlfriend brain" in the contexts I've seen it in (used in posts by normal people and not the 'stay at home girlfriend' influencers who scare me) is very similar to the whole trend of having "scary dog privileges" where you’re able to walk around without fear of getting harassed because men who don’t see you as a person will see your boyfriend as a person and you will not be as debilitatingly anxious about your personal safety in a public space. These trends alone can point out a lot of problems with how we are expected to "solve" problems by temporarily making it safer for only one individual at a time and not dismantling the culture that makes men feel entitled to women as a whole.

"Girl dinner" I think is heavily related to diet culture with people either purposefully eating less food to restrict the number of calories or eating junk food in the privacy of their own home without fear of backlash or judgement but it could even be fatigue of constantly cooking for other people because you have that expectation placed on you and you find brief respite in not wanting to cook for ‘just’ yourself but all of those options are insanely depressing no matter what. The expectation to be a sexy twig that eats nothing but also cook hearty meals for those around you to enjoy at any given moment is too exhausting and people break away from that where they can but also not every person participating in a viral trend is required to be actively experiencing any of the shame that the audience could be projecting onto them from personal experiences so does it really help at all or does it just hurt more people?

I do genuinely think clean girl core and DFE are heavily associated with white supremacist shit so I will not defend those at all, I think I've even seen some people call DFE a nazi tradwife dogwhistle so I'll just put that out there for other people to think on because I do not want to touch that with a ten foot pole.

And other people understand the whole "I’m just a girl" thing just fine obviously based off of most of the notes. Thank you No Doubt for providing such a banger that is infinitely better than the way people are abusing the phrase now.

"I'm just a girl", "girl math", "girl dinner", "divine feminine energy", "bimbocore", "clean girl", "girl's girl", "girlfriend brain" SHUT UPPP!!! SHUTT THE FUCKKKK UPPPPPP !!!!

[captain-huggy-bear]

How does Jack ask you to be his valentine ?

Oh he's a sweetheart but also pretty conventional as well. I think he goes with your standard ideas of flowers, and chocolates, probably turning up at your door on the day itself because that's traditional and he just smirks and asks. The sort of lazy confidence in him that says he knows you're going to say yes, that it would be impossible for you to say no.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

It's still new, this thing you have with Jack, early days as it were. Not quite boyfriend and girlfriend yet, but not just two strangers who've been on a singular date either. Talking wasn't the right term and dating was maybe closer to it, figuring out whether this was going to be something long term or just a drop in the ocean. So you didn't really expect anything from him on Valentine's day, especially not when he'd said he had a game that night and wouldn't be able to take you out in the evening like he wanted to. You'd accepted that because at the end of the day you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to the very first date with him. Hockey meant things wouldn't always go as expected, not all events would be commemorated. It also wasn't a given considering the early nature of your relationship.

It's why you're not expecting it when your front door bell rings and you're certainly not expect to look through your peephole to see Jack Hughes standing on the other side in a suit and tie holding what might be the largest bouquet of pink roses you'd ever seen. So large that they'd block out his entire head and shoulders if he held them upright.

"Jack?" You open the door to him, feeling decidedly underdressed in your casual everyday clothes when compared with Jack and his suit. The black one that he's matched with a black tie like he's going to a formal event rather than standing in front of your house on the 14th February in the cold.

"Hey..." The smile he gives you is nearly a smirk, that confidence that first drew you to him, firmly in place. His hair has grown longer at the moment, nearly reaching his shoulders, tucked behind his ears.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the rink for morning skate...?"

"Already been, decided this was more important than my post practice nap." It makes you feel warm all over, the way he says that so easily, like it's a given that seeing you is more important than his routines and rituals, things you know hockey players hold dear to their hearts.

"Oh?"

"Here," He hands you the bouquet that takes up your entire arm space, larger than a toddler and smelling sweetly of rose. He'd picked the scented roses, ones that smell strongly too a little detail that you can't help but take note of. "I picked the pink ones, thought it'd be a little less cliché."

You can't help the soft smile you give him because it really is sweet and unexpected. More romantic than any of your past boyfriends had ever been and he's not even in a relationship with you yet.

"They're lovely, Jack...you really didn't have to..." You feel bad knowing you hadn't expected anything and so hadn't got anything for him.

"I wanted to. I can't exactly ask you to be my valentine without flowers now, can I, angel?" Your positive reception of the flowers has him relaxing further, a smile turning into a smirk, leaning closer to you, arm leaning against your door frame. The invasion of your personal space makes you nervous in the best sort of way, giddy.

"You want to be my valentine?" You can't actually remember the last time you were actually asked to be someone's valentine...it makes butterflies flutter about in your stomach.

"Sweetheart, who else would I ask?"

You shrug, pursing your lips as you look up at him from under your lashes, all of a sudden unsure and lacking confidence because neither of you ever said you were only seeing each other. That you were exclusive. While you certainly weren't seeing any other guys, it would make sense for someone like Jack, popular and famous, to have a whole roster of girls waiting on him. It wouldn't surprise you if he had other girls he was testing the waters with, figuring out who was the best fit.

He seems to sense that your thoughts have gone that way, or maybe he just has good timing.

"You're the only girl I'm seeing and the only one I want to see, angel...I've not gone on a date with anyone else since before our first one." He doesn't like that it's clearly shocking to you, the way you look up him like he's just given you the world. Jack thinks it should be obvious to you that he's all in, that he's completely taken with you and has been since the first date. He's only waiting to ask you to be his girlfriend because he knows you need a little more time, not because he's not ready or doesn't want to.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Why waste my time with anyone else? They wouldn't be you." It's simply really. You're perfect for him. You're kind, you're caring, pretty and smart. You're understanding of his schedule and his moods. You get along with Luke and you treat him like Jack, just Jack. Not Jack Hughes, hockey superstar. Why waste his time on girls who fawn and giggle over his title, his status but don't really like him for him?

"Jack..."

He diffuses some of the heavy tension with his next question, not wanting to make things too serious too fast, not wanting you to feel pressure to respond in kind, "You still haven't answered my question. Will you be my valentine?"

"Yes, I'll be your valentine." You smile up at him all giddy and sweet and he wants to kiss you all over your cheeks, lift you until you're giggling uncontrollably, but he controls himself. Jack has to remind himself you're not his girlfriend yet, he's trying to take this slow, easy for you, a love confession might be a bit much 3 months in.

"Good because we have a lunch date, so go get changed into something nice." Not that you don't look nice, you always look nice, but he knows you'll feel self conscious if he takes you into a nice restaurant in casual clothes while he's in a full suit and tie.

"A lunch date?"

"Well, I can't take you out for dinner because of the game, but I figured lunch would work?" Your hesitation has Jack questioning himself, starting to second guess if this was a good idea, maybe you already had plans, "Or...you don't have to, we can stay here or...or I can go?"

"No, no! Lunch sounds...it sounds perfect."

The smile you receive is enough. It's more than enough, you think you might just do anything to be on the receiving end of that smile.

[wcnderlnds]

last dance | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: turns out you both want different things but seunghyun has to give you the perfect goodbye ・❥・word count: 2.5k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, swearing, angst. female reader. ・❥・ authors note: this took me all day to write and now i go hide like i always do when i write smut because i will always be forever nervous to write it. but there might be a part two to this. maybe. we'll see. also, didn't add my taglist because idk who wants tagging in smut so <3

As you sat there watching your friends have their very first dance together as a married couple, your heart clenched in your chest. You had to tear your eyes away instead focusing on the glass of wine you had in your hand. Today wasn’t supposed to be like this; it was supposed to be a happy day celebrating your friend’s love but how could you celebrate love when your own love life had just crumbled apart mere hours ago? The conversation with Seunghyun replayed over and over in your head.  

It had been like any other day – the excitement of watching your two friends finally tie the knot hanging in the air. It had spurred you on to wonder about your future with Seunghyun. You had been together for four years now. They hadn’t been the easiest four years but somehow, someway, you always made it through the other end stronger than ever. This was what true love felt like. Every single day with him made you fall even more in love. There was no doubt that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life so, you had voiced that to him. The second you had said that you wanted to get married one day, maybe even have children, he had turned pale. His whole body had gone rigid, his hands dropping from the tie he was trying to tighten. As he looked at you and said ‘I don’t think that’s going to ever be in the cards for us. Marriage isn’t something I’ve ever wanted’, your heart had plummeted into your stomach.

Really, it should have been conversation early on in your relationship but you had been so caught up in each other that some of the important conversations like that got lost along the way. His words had cut you deep, so deep that it had resulted in the two of you arguing. It made you think he didn’t love you enough even as he tried to explain why he didn’t want to get married. So, as you left for the wedding, all the hurt and scalding words that had been said between you hanging in the air, you knew this was the beginning of the end. 

Sitting at the table, you swirled around the last remains of your drink in the glass, bringing it up to your lips to swig it off. As you did, you locked eyes with Seunghyun who had been sitting at the table over talking to his bandmates. You didn’t tear yours away as he said something to them then made his way to you. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, holding his hand out to you. “Dance with me?” 

Your eyes glanced at his hand, hesitation coursing through your body but you took it anyway. He led you to the dancefloor, his hands finding your hips, placing yours around his neck. A slow song was playing, Seunghyun gently swaying the two of you to the beat. It was too painful to look at his face right now, focusing on his shoes instead but he didn’t let that last too long, his slender fingers reaching out to lift your chin up to look at him. As you met his eyes once more, you could see the pain in them mirroring your own. He knew as well as you that this was it for the two of you. God, it hurt. Your heart physically felt like it was breaking in two. 

“Seunghyun...” you started but he cut you off. 

“Let’s just... have this moment, yeah?” His voice broke as he spoke, the gentleness combined with his deep tone penetrating right through your broken heart. 

He tugged you closer to him, your body pressed against his with your head laying on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours, his hand gently reaching up to your head to stroke your hair. It was soothing but it wasn’t enough. This was just hurting you more. Knowing this would be the last time he’d ever hold you like this, that he’d ever be this close to you? It was enough to bring you to tears. As you let them fall onto his suit jacket, he knew you were crying, squeezing his own eyes shut. Seunghyun wasn’t afraid of crying, he never had been but right now he needed to be strong for you. When he was alone later, he’d let the tears fall but right now making sure you had one last bit of comfort from him was his main priority. 

As the song ended and you pulled back to look at him, he kept his arms around you, his thumb running along your lower lip. “...I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” 

“I know,” you whispered. 

He looked at you so intensely, like he was memorising all of your features knowing that he would never be able to look at you this way again. Before he could even control himself, he was leaning in and his lips met yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around your body; his hands splayed across your back as he poured every ounce of his love into the kiss. Love wasn’t the problem; his own commitment issues were. Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, Seunghyun letting out a sigh. He didn’t say any words as he pulled away, he didn’t need to. Instead, he simply took your hand in his and lead you outside. If he was going to say goodbye then he was going to make sure it was one you could both remember. 

That was how you ended up in the backseat of the car, Seunghyun’s shirt half open, yours somewhere in the front of the car as you straddled his lap, hands cradling his face as you kissed him hungrily. His hands slid up your back, unhooking your bra. It was quickly discarded somewhere in the car, his eyes instantly falling to your chest. His head dipped down, his tongue swirling around your nipple. Your hand tangled in his hair, a breathy moan passing your lips as he worked his magic. Slowly, you grinded your hips against his feeling his growing length rubbing against your core. Thank the stars you’d decided to wear a skirt, only the barrier of your underwear in the way. It was good but it wasn’t enough. You needed him, you needed him like you needed air. 

His lips trailed wet kisses along your chest and collarbone until he reached your neck, biting down to leave his mark. It might be the last time he’d get to have you like this but he still wanted the world to know you had been his. You tugged at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips. “If this is the last time just... give me everything, please.” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek as he crashed his lips back onto yours. His hand slid underneath your skirt, dipping beneath your underwear. The second his fingers touched your sensitive core, he bit back a moan at how wet you were. “You're always so ready for me.” 

His fingers slid between your folds, coating his fingers in your slick before he pushed two digits inside you. The intrusion had you gasping, his fingers setting a slow, torturous rhythm. He pumped them in and out, your head falling onto his shoulder as you ground against his hand. “Seunghyun, please.” 

“Please, what?” His voice was a deep, reverberating whisper in your ear only making your arousal worse. “Use your words, baby.” 

“More. I need more. I...” Words seemed to escape you especially when he suddenly sped up his movements, his fingers plunging in and out of your tight heat. You whimpered, hips rocking with him. He was nothing but determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy, his free hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head back roughly as his lips found your neck. The feeling of his fingers deep inside you and the soft bites along your collarbone were enough to send you spiralling. 

You moaned out his name, biting down on his shoulder as you came all over his fingers. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm until he felt your body slump against his. Only then did he pull his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips. He made a show out of pushing them into his mouth to taste you. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head, a breathy sigh passing his lips. “You always taste amazing, princess.” 

His swollen lips brushed against yours, the sweet taste of you lingering on his lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, grinding his hips up into yours. You could feel how hard he was, how desperate he was and God, did you want him inside you so badly. The feeling was very mutual, his cock aching to be buried deep inside you. He lifted your hips off him momentarily, popping open the button on his slacks as he lifted his own hips to tug off his pants and boxers down his legs enough to free himself. He hissed as the cool air hit his erection.  

Licking your lips, you leaned your head down, his hand instantly coming to push you closer to his length. Your tongue darted out, teasing along his tip, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. He groaned, a deep husky noise; it was almost enough to send you spiralling again. The throbbing between your legs back yet again as he lost all his patience and pushed your head onto him. Your lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. What you couldn’t fit, you wrapped your hand around. You began to bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks. With lidded eyes he watched as you took him deep into your throat, holding your head there. He let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively pushing up into your mouth causing the tip of his length to hit the back of your throat. The choking sound you made was almost enough to make him come there and then. Instead, he pulled you off him, his thumb wiping at the corners of your mouth. You looked picturesque, the way your lips were swollen, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. This was one of the ways he was always going to remember you on lonely nights when he couldn’t have you anymore.  

“I need you so much,” he whispered, the pain in his voice like a knife to your heart. “Even if it's for the last time, I just... I fuckin’ need you.”  

You didn’t say anything, instead you slid your underwear off down your legs, moving to straddled him yet again. You took him in your hand, positioning him at your entrance before you sank down onto him. You moaned as you took all of him inside you, sitting on his thick length to give yourself time to adjust. His fingers dug into your hips; head tilted back as he looked at you. “You’re so beautiful. I... love you.” 

You rested your forehead against his, eyes squeezing shut as if it was too painful to even look at him after saying that knowing what was going to come after this was over. Regardless, you replied softly. “I love you, too.” 

“Don’t move. Not yet. I...just want to look at you... so I can keep this picture in my head,” his finger trailed along your jaw, his eyes piercing into yours now that you’d opened them. “You were always the best thing that had ever happened to me and nothing will change that.” 

You let the moment linger between you, knowing that you both needed it. Your eyes scanned his face, committing his dark, gorgeous eyes, strong jawline and perfect lips to your memory. Slowly but surely, you began to lift your hips up then back down. His hands on your hips guiding your movements, small breathy groans coming from the beautiful man in front of you. He leaned up, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, tongue tangling with yours as you picked up your pace. Seunghyun’s own hips bucked up into yours, his lips never leaving yours. One of your hands cupped his cheek, his soft skin flushed beneath your touch. The grunts and groans coming from him were some of your favourite sounds, ones that you’d miss so very much.  

“I’m so close, baby,” you panted, your hips beginning to lose the rhythm. Seunghyun took this as his cue to wrap his arm around your body, laying you back on the plush seat of the car.  

“Shh, let me take care of you,” he rasped, his body covering yours as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. He thrust into you hard and fast, your body moving with the force of his movements. Nails raked down his back (your turn to mark him as yours now), the sting of it causing him to moan. He had always loved when you did that. 

He could feel your walls squeezing him, letting him know you were close. So, he brought the pad of his thumb down, rubbing tight, small circles against your clit. His lips whispering “I love you” against yours as he changed to slow, deep thrusts. That was it. You couldn’t take anymore, your walls clamping down around him, your lips singing his name like a prayer as you came undone. He didn’t take his eyes off your face as he watched your orgasm hit you, it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He kept up his rhythm but soon faltered when he heard you whisper you loved him. He stilled, his hips flush against you as he came, emptying himself inside you with a deep groan. 

He collapsed on top of you, your sweat slicked bodies pressing together. You ran your hand through his hair as he nuzzled into your neck. Why couldn’t you stay this way? Just wrapped up in your own little bubble with the man you loved. But, no. Reality wasn’t that kind to either of you. You both wanted different thing and as selfish as Seunghyun wanted to be, he couldn’t do that to you. No matter what, you deserved to find everything you’d ever wanted but he wasn’t the one that could give you that. 

He lifted his head, a sad frown on his beautiful face. “I’m staying at Jiyong’s tonight but... I’ll drive you home and come get my stuff tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

That was all you could say otherwise you’d break down. The fact that this was really it was all consuming pain. And, as much as this had been the perfect way to say goodbye to each other, it made it all the much harder. 

How were you supposed to ever let him go? 

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XXVII) [m]

synopsis. He had conquered everything anything but your heart.

pairing: yandere king jungkook x fem reader ft shuaua from g-idle.

warnings: 18+ ÉXPLÍCÏT SMÜT, ôràl sèx (fèm rècïèvíng), únprôtèctèd sèx, mánipúlatíón, bôrdèrlínè nóncón, clït bïtïng, brèèdïng kínk, sèductíòn, yándèrè, dárk, mdnī,

[always remember to wrap it and honestly always remember that consent is the most important part.]

note. Oh my God guys it’s finally here. I never thought that this day would come, but oh my God our boy is not a virgin anymore. HAHAHA CELEBRATIONS CELEBRATIONS! Also, I know that there was a lot of discourse regarding this chapter so I hope that all of you will like it a little bit… I HOPE TO UPDATE SOON BUT ENJOY AND PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEEDBACK. I love you guys.

series masterlist.

•••

Before you can even protest, he’s got his teeth digging into the hem of your panties as he harshly pulls on the end to take them off and you want to scream at him to stop but it’s too late because the panties are off.

And then he’s pushing his robe off.

His muscular strong body is not full on display it almost takes your breath away.

How can someone like him be so hot?

“O-Oh my God… you’re so fucking perfect.” He groans, not giving you time to say anything before he dives his mouth into your pussy, you have no idea what he’s trying to do with you, burying his face so deeply into your most private part like this.. it should make you feel disgusting but

Instead, you arch, spreading your legs before you can even stop yourself and his hands grab onto your thighs as he pushes your legs on top of his shoulders, moaning into your heat as he begins to eat you out, you cry as his hot tongue makes contact with your pussy, he’s licking you like a dog,

You try your best to push him away, trying to pry his face away. He doesn’t budge.

But instead, he looks up at you and the feral dark look in his eyes scares the shit out of you.

Yn,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that makes the very walls tremble. “I’ve been patient with you, but no more. You are my wife, and I will have you.”

He says in a low voice, gritting his teeth.

Why won’t you give him and why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?

Looks like he will have to force this out of you. Jungkook doesn’t want to do it, but you’re not giving him any kind of choice.

So now he will not give you a choice as well.

You tremble, your body betraying her as Jungkook’s hands reach out to caress your face. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, a stark contrast to the fierce determination in his eyes. You try to turn away, but he holds your chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“I know you hate me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “But I also know that you cannot resist the pleasure I can give you.”

Before you can protest, Jungkook’s lips are on yours, his kiss fierce and demanding. You struggle against him, but he is too strong, his hands gripping your waist with a possessive intensity.

Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed, picking you up with your thighs, wrapped around his shoulders with ease, his body covering yours as he continues to kiss you, his tongue delving into you mouth, claiming you as his own.

His kiss, it’s hot, needy and intense, you really want to push him away, but your body is just so frozen.

As he breaks the kids, he kicks off his waistband. Leaving him bare, and you are not sure that you should be terrified or glad because his length is breathtaking.

It’s too thick, standing angrily at attention as the veins bulge out.

This is going to destroy you, your pusdy clenches, and your mouth is watering.

You hate your body.

Your body responds despite your mind’s resistance, a traitorous heat building between your legs. You can still feel his hot tongue, Jungkook’s hands roam your body, caressing your curves with a reverence that betrays his rough exterior.

And before you can react?

He tears at your clothing, his desperation is growing with each passing moment.

And it’s all your fault.

“Jungkook, please,” you whimper, your voice a mere breath. “Don’t do this.”

Why isn’t he listening?

He shakes his head, Jungkook is beyond reason, his desire for you consuming him whole.

But then you see almost a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, and for a moment he stops.

“Yn…. You’re never going to love me. I’m never going to have this. W-Why can’t you give it to me?”

His eyes are unmistakably filled with tears.

“W-Why can’t you love me and why can’t you give yourself to me? Even if you won’t love me at least let me have you physically” his tone is getting heavier and breathy as he looks into your eyes.

You open your mouth to protest, but when you see the helplessness in his eyes, something shifts inside you.

Why are you even starting to feel bad for him? When he’s the reason for everything that’s happened in your life? he is the reason that you had to grow up as an orphan.

He’s the reason you’re forcefully married to him. And he’s the reason you almost got molested.

So why? Why is your heart aching right now?

And why the hell is your pussy so wet and clenching, as if it’s missing his tongue?

“I… do you think that physical relief will help you in anyway?” You manage to ask him, looking at him almost suspiciously.

And you don’t miss the way he eagerly nods and in that moment, he looks almost innocent, like he has done nothing wrong in his life, but he’s still suffering.

And for a moment you allow yourself to believe him.

You look at him again and blink twice.

“Yn I love you so much. I fucking love you and I would do anything to have you..”

Your heart thumps.

“But nothing I do seems to make you like me. I only mess up more and more, but I’ve been so patient. I have given you a year to accept me, but it never happens. I am not a monster like you think I am, but what is the point of telling you that?”

A tear falls from his eye.

And your heart clenches.

“I… I have only wanted your love and nothing else… I could give anything… even my crown if it meant that I could have a place in your heart.” he gets closer and closer until your faces are inches apart.

“So please baby… just this night, one fuckin night. It’s only need from you if you’re never gonna give me your heart at least let me give you my own body.”

He starts, pressing desperate kisses along the skin of your neck.

And you close your eyes and for the first time you let yourself feel his touch, you allow yourself to feel the pleasure of his lips on you.

And you let out a shaky breath.

You are stuck with him forever and there is no doubt about that, so you might as well start cooperating or making him cooperate with you so your life is a little bit easier.

He’s the killer of your father but now he’s your husband too.

“Please…. Please…” he whispers, biting your earlobe, and you let out another breath.

“Even if you reject me again, I won’t force myself on you.”

Your eyes widen at that.

“Even though the fucked up part in me is screaming at me to do so because you’re never going to give yourself willingly to me, but I love you so much that I can’t ever think of disrespecting you..” he breaths, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

And he inhales you.

“you deserve to be loved, you deserve to be cherished, and you deserve to be respected.” He presses another hot kiss behind your ear.

“So… please just allow me to love you for one night… I-I promise I will be so much better. I promise that I will respect your wishes and I promise that I will be the best husband that I can be…”

He gently licks the skin, making you gasp, your insides are churning. You can feel his hard cock pulsing against you.

It’s unfair how beautiful and perfect he is. He’s like a dream..

“You can even punish me after this but right now I really fucking need you. Because this is the only time I will be able to have you”

“So please baby… just one night.”

He silences your protests with another kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as he pushes your legs apart. You gasp as you feel his fingers probing at your entrance, his touch sending jolts of electricity through your body.

And this time you don’t stop him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook growls, his voice thick with lust. “I love you so fucking much.”

You moan as his fingers delve deeper, stroking your inner walls with a skill that leaves you breathless.

You try to hold back, to resist the pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you, but it’s a losing battle. Jungkook’s touch is magic, his fingers playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

As if sensing your impending surrender, Jungkook waits for your next move, and before you know it, you’re lowering his head again, his head between your legs again.. his tongue replacing his fingers.

You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he laps at your most sensitive areas, his tongue swirling around your clit with a fervor that borders on worship.

“Jungkook, oh God,” You moan, your hands fisting in his hair as he devours you. “Please, I-”

But Jungkook doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, his nose brushing against your clit with each thrust. Your body trembles, your thighs tightening around his head as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

“F-Fine nghh- fine. you have this one night.”

He sucks on your clit harder, making you yelp.

“mhm yeah thank you so much, my queen, my heart, my love my everything.. fuck- ‘m gonna make you feel so good”

And the worst part is that he’s not even lying about that.

He’s making you feel so good.

“Come for me, yn,” Jungkook commands, his voice vibrating against your core. “Let go and give yourself to me.”

With a final cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Jungkook drinks in your essence, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release as he works you through the aftershocks.

As you come down from your high, you feel a sense of pleasure wash over you.

Why are you not feeling shameful at the way he’s laping up at your clit.

How could you have given in so easily to your enemy, to the man who has taken everything from you?

But as Jungkook crawls up your body, his eyes dark with satisfaction, you know that you are lost.

“Fuck baby… you taste so divine.”

“Yn” he whispers, his voice soft is with reverence. “You are mine, body and soul. And I will never let you go.”

These words should scare you, but they only make your cunt ache for more.

“Baby this might hurt but please hold onto me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but I promise it’s gonna feel so good in a little bit.” He presses a hot messy kiss to your lips.

With those words, Jungkook claims you fully, his cock thrusting deep inside you, stretching your walls and filling you completely but it’s not easy because he is a big guy.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body struggling to accommodate his size.

You cry.

As he begins to move, he presses an unlimited amount, of kisses on your head, as if he understands the pain that you have just experienced and he’s trying to calm you down.

And weirdly enough? You start to feel a little bit at ease.

But as Jungkook keeps on moving, his thrusts slow and deliberate, You feel a new wave of pleasure building inside you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he drives into you, his hips slapping against yours with a force that leaves you breathless.

He roars a cry of immense pleasure.

“Fuck, yn,” Jungkook groans, his face contorted with pleasure. “You feel so good, so tight. I’m going to fill you up, make you mine in every way.”

You moan in response, your nails raking down Jungkook’s back as he pounds into you. You can feel another orgasm building, your body tensing as Jungkook’s thrusts become faster, more urgent.

He is Being so loud.

“M-My *heaves* queen. My yn.” Jungkook pulls out, making you whine, but then he slams into you again

“Come with me, yn,” he commands, his voice strained with effort. “Let me feel you come undone around my cock.”

With a final cry, You shatter again, This pleasure is making you feel so high like you’re in the clouds and you never want to let go of this feeling.

You dig your nails into his back.

“See baby, ahhh f-fuck.. I’m giving myself to you. I’m giving my all to you. Because you’re the only one who deserves it.”

your body convulsing as Jungkook fills you with his seed. He collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Mine,” he murmurs, his voice thick with possessiveness. “Y-Yn can I go all night?”

You should say no to that, but instead, your fingers find themselves in his curly long, dark locks, and you begin to scratch his hair as he lays his head on your breasts.

“Please?”

you look down at him and see the puppy dog eyes.

“Umm… uhh fine.” You hesitantly reply because you shouldn’t enjoy this so much but the high that you have experienced just now?

You don’t want to end it so soon, especially you don’t want tonight to end.

You groan as you feel his mouth catch one of your hardened peaks into his mouth, he begins to hump you.

You begin to grow even wetter and the upcoming hours of the night excite you even more, like he’s fucked the rational part out of you

You moan louder and louder.

And he hums in response, his hard cock rubbing against you, causing a delicious sensation.

And you don’t want this to end at all.

And if only you had any idea of how much Jungkook feels safe and wanted in your arms after a long, long time.

•••

The golden wing of the palace is peaceful, but the air feels different tonight. Meilin, for the first time since arriving, feels restless.

Her gaze flickers toward the king’s chambers, the same place where the man, no, the King of Goryeo.. had captured her attention the moment he’d stepped into the room, his regal presence and his commanding air leaving a mark on her mind.

Her father, the Emperor of China, had agreed to stay in the palace for a few days, and while it was an honor to be invited,

Meilin could feel herself growing more and more uneasy as the hours passed.

Not because of the palace, or its grandeur, but because of him— Jungkook, the king, who commanded attention effortlessly.

At first, it had been innocent enough. She watched from the corners of rooms, unable to ignore the way her heart quickened every time their gazes met.

He was always so composed, so dignified.

But now, as she walked the empty halls that led to his chambers, she couldn’t help but feel a strange, unsettling tension crawling beneath her skin.

The air around her feels charged. She can’t explain it, but something about tonight feels different. As she passes by the king’s chambers, she stops.

It’s unmistakable.

The sounds of intimacy, of passion. Her heart thuds painfully in her chest as she realizes what it is.

She stands frozen in place, feeling her body tense as the moans echo through the thick stone walls.

She tries to swallow, but her throat feels dry. What is she doing here? Why is she listening?

Her fingers twitch, her nails pressing into the delicate fabric of her sleeve as her mind races.

She can’t look away, though every rational part of her mind tells her to move. To leave. To pretend she didn’t hear it.

But the sounds… they twist something deep within her. Something that’s been simmering ever since she saw him for the first time. The King of Goryeo, powerful and untouchable.

She knew, deep down, that he belonged to someone else. He was married, after all.

But hearing this—hearing his moans, hearing the evidence of his closeness with his wife, you. it pulls at something dark inside her.

She wants to see him.

To feel what it would be like to be the one to make him moan like that, to bring him to his knees.

Her breaths grow shallow as she grips the wall for support, her mind spiraling.

Why does she feel this way? Why is she so captivated by this? It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It’s almost unbearable.

Her heart beats faster as her thoughts turn sharper, more possessive.

“I can’t..”

she whispers to herself, but the words die in her throat. Her body is reacting on its own, a hunger building up that she doesn’t know how to control.

She takes a step closer to the door, as if pulled by an invisible force.

Every part of her wants to get closer, to hear more, to understand what it feels like to be part of that world.

The jealousy burns hotter now, gnawing at her insides. But more than that, there’s something else— a wild, uncontrollable urge.

She feels her stomach tighten, her breath quickening, and suddenly it’s hard to ignore the throbbing desire building within her.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs, her hand trembling as it rests against the doorframe. But she can’t move.

She’s paralyzed, caught in the turmoil of what she’s hearing and what she wants… what she’s beginning to crave.

It’s maddening. And as the sounds continue, Meilin feels herself falling deeper into a dangerous obsession, one that’s only just beginning.

[nerdyrevelries]

I think what a lot of people miss is that when we say Little Women is a feminist text, that applies to all four sisters, not just Jo or Amy.

Meg struggles with perfectionism. She wants to be the ideal woman, the ideal wife, and the ideal mother. Worse yet, the standards she compares herself to are imaginary ones. She thinks she should always have the house clean, always have a smile on, and be prepared to receive guests at any time. John should never even have to deal with a single lost button. This is what society was telling Meg she was for. They were showing her a fake standard that's impossible to actually reach in a world where sometimes your kid spins around in a circle really fast and then throws up on you.

If anything, this feels more relatable today than it did when LMA wrote it because we live in a world where people only see the glossy parts of our lives through social media. It's incredibly easy to show a false exterior when you feel dead inside. Even if your idea of perfect isn't being a mother like Meg, I think you can probably relate to the pressure of trying to seek your idea of perfection, whatever that may be.

The advice Marmee gives Meg is so good, even today.

1. Care about your appearance. This might sound sexist at first, but keep in mind who Meg is. Meg loves dressing up and looking pretty. She has started feeling bad about herself because she isn't doing this. This is basically Marmee talking about the importance of self care.

2. Let John help and don't try to do everything yourself. This is still an issue today, much less when Little Women was written.

3. Care about things other than just the babies. This is Marmee telling Meg to find adult interests that are separate from her role as mother and take an interest in the world around her.

4. Let Hannah take over sometimes so you can have time for just you and John. A babysitter and date night!

This is all still excellent advice!

While looking for illustrations of John Brooke from Little Women today, I came across an article with the thesis that in Part II, John has PTSD from fighting in the Civil War, and that this is the "real" reason for the rough patches in his marriage to Meg.

I don't want to fully dismiss that headcanon. John goes to war for a year, after all, and then is wounded badly enough to be discharged. What he goes through could easily create PTSD. Besides, this is only the latest of several mental health headcanons I've read about the characters in Little Women: others include "Meg has postpartum depression after the twins are born," "Jo has ADHD or mild bipolar disorder," and "Beth has autism, and/or Social Anxiety Disoder, and/or anorexia." Some of these I buy more easily than others, but I never mind seeing them suggested.

But at the same time, the author's support for the thesis consisted of painting all of John's behavior in Part II, and both Meg and Marmee's reactions to him, in the worst possible light. They accuse him of "insensitively" laughing at Meg about the jelly, "sulking" when she spends money beyond their means, "neglecting her" after the twins are born, etc. And they interpret Meg's eagerness to please him and fear of disappointing him, Marmee warning her about his capacity for long-lasting anger, and her anxiety about leaving him alone with the babies as "This man is a potential abuser and his wife and mother-in-law both know it and are afraid of him."

IMHO, there are so many levels of wrong in all of the above!

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that using those bad-faith readings to argue that John has PTSD has a hint of ableism. The argument is basically "John is a good, likable man in Part I, but in Part II he becomes a selfish jerk of a husband whom Meg is afraid of and always placating. PTSD can explain the change." Doesn't that reading have unfortunate implications about PTSD?

[leoascendente]

Saturn placement/ the lord of karma and its life lessons🪐

~ Saturn archetype:

Saturn traditionally rules capricorn and the 10th house and has a co regency with Uranus for Aquarius and the 11th house. It's called like this because of the Roman god of time, agriculture and harvest, in Greek mythology was known as the titan Chronos.

In astrology it rules our limits and because time is our biggest limitation as human beings, we have an uncertain amount of time in this planet to fulfill our purpose

It also rules structure and laws, in the natal chart it shows us where we have to put discipline and follow the rules

Saturn was a titan, the father of Jupiter, it's a really ancient deity that rules over karma and teaches us how to overcome lessons and challenges that weight in our souls and block us from developing our best selves

Saturn placement is always complicated but, even though he's a severe teacher, he's also very generous rewarding our efforts and discipline

Saturn is commonly seen as a malefic planet because its placement in our natal chart shows us in which area of our lifes we will experience delays or problems, many times solving those issues in solitude

Aries/1st house: Fear of not being enough This placement can be really hard to deal with, this natives can feel like they are always being judged and observed by something they can't see or by other people in general, the thing is that their hardest critic is usually themselves. This placement also deals with physical problems but most of the time created by their own mindset, the natives usually feel uncomfortable in their skin like if there's something that needs to change about themselves to be better and accepted by others, they also may feel clumsy or like they don't have total control over their bodies. The best therapy for these natives is to shift their inner dialogue into a more positive and compassionate one, also being less critical with themselves, especialy when it comes to making mistakes. These natives usually prefer to be cautious, they don't like to take risks, they usually had a tough and strict childhood with almost no fun and being responsible for things not appropiate for their age, in some cases the birth was difficult too. The good thing about this placement is that the natives have a very powerful and intimidating presence, they take their time to make the best decition to eventually reach their goals, very ambitious and perseverant people that get every goal they set

Taurus/ 2nd house: Fear of not having enough As a Taurus saturn myself, we really have a hard time when it comes to money and resources, one of our biggest lessons is to differenciate money from abundance, money is just an amount of cash, abundance is having a roof over us, a healthy body and mind and a full fridge, it's important for us to differenciate because we can tend to vaue ourselves based on our financial situation. This placement also makes really stubborn people who have difficulties changing their mindset, specially about morals, values and beliefs, they also have a hard time admitting mistakes. This placement makes greedy colectors of everything that has value for them, they like fancy and expensive things, if saturn has bad aspects there can be an obssesion for making money and greediness, the good thing is that these natives want to get that luxorious life by themselves not depending or parasiting someone else, in fact, these natives prefer to make gifts instead of receiving them. The good aspect about his placement is that the natives knows how to make financial profits out of anything, if they have an apple tree they sell the apple, the apple pie and the apple jam; they also have an awesome eye to find hidden treasures or things with an special value, like an antique they find that end up being an historical treasure.

Gemini/ 3rd house: Fear of not knowing enough This placement makes difficult to communicate the native's thoughts and feelings clearly, many times because of a deep fear to be misunderstood by others, in some other cases it's caused by the fear of someone else taking their words againts the native. It is not that these natives don't have communicative skills, this difficulty comes from an inherent and irrational fear. The good thing is that this self repression can be handled in other ways, Billie Eilish has this placement and her music coud be her way to communicate her feelings in a healthy way, also healing the throat chakra could be beneficial for the natives. This placement usually gives the native a bad experience with siblings or cousins that are perceived as a burden, these natives could also feel lonely or prefered solitude over the people around them in their childhood. Their biggest karmic lesson is to be patient with themselves when it comes to aquiring knowledge and expressing their opinions and not caring that much about being misunderstood. I have seen people with this placement that had a really hard experience with neighbors, some even suffered bulliyng in school or being comppared a lot with their siblings or cousins

Cancer/ 4th house: Fear of not being loved or cared enough This might be one of the thoughest placements to have, it usually indicates a very repressive and strict household or a difficult mother figure that repressed the native from a very young age, this placement is especially tough on women, I have seen this placement before on girls who have an 'almond mom'. These natives usually grow up in a cold enviroment where their emotional needs were neglected or emotions didn't had space to be expressed, sometimes this means that the family could go through a period of scarcity when they were kids. They had to deal with very painful emotions of not feeling enough or asking themselves what's wrong with them, all those wounds majorly come from this dittached and emotionally cold childhood and household, this also makes them distrust other people or get emotionally attached to people that don't reciprocate their feelings. They don't usually feel comfortable with domestic tasks and may prefer to spend time outdoors, these natives may also avoid creating a home or a family or they make it at an older age, the second half of their lives tend to be a lot more comfortable as they get a deeper understanding of themselves

Leo/ 5th house: Fear of being rejected These natives are really scared of failure and not being enough , constantly ruminating if they are doing the right thing or not, they are more methodical than passionate in everything they do so their lesson is to learn to follow their heart without worrying about what others may think. Saturn in fire houses or signs always ignites the fear of taking risks but in this specific placement it goes further, Saturn here loose so much time analyzing that ends up loosing positive opportunities to grow. The inner child is repressed in this placement, spontaneity is blocked by Saturn, having fun seems to be a hard work for these natives, the good thing is that therapies to heal the inner child have a very positive effect on people with this placement, also hobbies and playful activities in their free time are great for them. These natives usually have an inner fear of what they can create, it can be personal projects but it also applies to their children, Saturn in this sign/house have a very rigid idea of perfection so there's a massive fear to be dissaponted with their creations for not being as ideal as they expected. On the positive aspect, these natives are very trustworthy and when they find something that awakens their passion that can turn into a work where they can create awesome things, their lesson would be to learn how to have fun and don't be so demanding with themselves

Virgo/ 6th house: Fear of being a failure These natives usually suffer from dygestive problems and tend to be obsessively hypocondriac with their health, as a funny personal experience, I met someone with this placement that though she had lung cancer because of a little pain in the back, spoiler: she just had stress and a bad posture. These natives have the best organization and administration skills , they also have an amazing eye for the little details that go unnoticed for the rest of us, the bad thing is that they have an unhealthy obssesion for order and will try to impose it on everyone else. These natives can be extremely controlling of their surroundings and the people in their lives, they also value themselves based on their productivity levels but don't give enough credit to their own merits but this is a common trait on every earth saturn. Routines and daily habits can feel opressive, also taking care of their physical needs can have an extra negative impact on their health, usually these natives experience physicl symptoms for their own internal conflicts, especially in regards of their skin, bones or knees. These natives are very critic with others but even more with themselves, but instead of being so demanding they would feel better with themselves by cultivating the skills they already have, I have also seen that they are great in careers related to health of people or animals.

Libra/ 7th house: Fear of commitment For these natives, relationships, especially romantic ones becomes a source of stress and repression, fear of commitment is really prominent because they can associate a partner with the end of their freedom. They have a very clinic eye to catch flaws iin their partners to avoid getting into deeper bonds, these natives have a really hard time trying to settle down and avoid being dependent on someone or somebody else being dependent on them. The good thing here is that if they open up to a relationship and get more in touch with their feelings, they can find a lot of truths about themselves through their partner. The bad thing is that these natives tend to project their own personal issues over their partner to avoid recognizing them on themselves, if Saturn is bad aspected it can be the total opposite and end up acting as a mirror for other people's internal wounds. Another positive trait of releasing this fear of commitment and intimacy is that they are able to create an indestrutible bond with their partner based on trust and loyalty. Usually these natives feel attracted to people that can offer a solid stability, especially in financial terms, I have even seen that they end up in marriages with a considerable age gap or they get married late in life. There could be some fear to get involved in legal matters, also these kiind of processes can extend for a long time and be complicated to solve

Scorpio/ 8th house: Fear of the unknown These placement can be very complex and express the saturnian energy in very different ways depending on the native, some may fear the unknown, others tend fear intimacy. These natives have a really hard time opening up even though they crave that intimacy they fear so much, superficial and void bonds are not for them so they end up being the lone wolf willingly before opening up to the wrong person. These natives tend to be very closed off, they avoid feeling vulnerable in front of other people, especially when it comes to emotional bonds, here they have to learn dircenrment because they can contradict themselves between what they desire and what they end up doing. This placement tend to isolate themselves even though creating a genuine bond with someone else can be the clue to their healing and personal growth, they also tend to end up with people with very different backgrounds or personal beliefs that can be used as a catalist for these natives to challenge themselves and their beliefs system. These natives usually avoid merging anything with other people, either it be emotionally or in material terms, sharing is not their best trait because before sharing they are already thinking in what they could loose, also they are relctant to receive from others, again either emotionally or material. They are usually very sceptic but mostly because of fear and not because they don't really believe

Sagittarius/ 9th house: Fear of not being experienced enough As a 9th house Saturn myself, we are the embodyment of the exceptic or the fanatic, there's no middle term. On Scorpio, saturn is sceptic because of fear, on Sagittarius is sceptic because of lack of proofs, we have vision of god very related to the abrahamic religions, like the long bearded guy that's seated in the clouds watching over us waiting for us to make a mistake so he can punish us, so depending on the aspects of Saturn we can be combative against that version of 'god' or being fearful of him, our big lesson is to trascend spiritually in our vision of a higher power. We like to learn but based on personal experiences, we may be reluctant to highr education but some may feel pressured to follow that path even though they'd prefer to focus just on what we are interested on. Here we find n inner conflict between Jupiter's desire (the ruler of the 9th house) of freedom and the responsabilities Saturn place over us, we don't feel too comfortable with taking risks and jumping into adventure without previous analisis and preparation, we could also experience delays or blockages when it comes to long travels.

Capricorn/ 10th house: Fear of not being in control Here saturn is at home so the energy flows more comfortable, these are very ambitious natives but very sensitive to their reputation, they have really big aspirations and expectations for themselves and their goals in life, they want to be recognized and admired for their merits. They tend to be more on the traditional values in every aspect of their life, these natives feel more comfortable following social standards and working hard with dedication to get to the place they want to be in life even if that places a lot of pressure over their shoulders, I have also noticed that these natives are really into marriage and family, like everything they do must be long term. The lesson for these natives is to enjoy life and allow themselves to make mistakes without fear of being judged, also to be relaxed and not always so focused on productivity and merits. They are not the emotional type of person or at least, emotions and feelings are not a priority, these natives have a bad fame of being a little maquiavelic but in fact they have a really solid moral compass but their ambition is too powerful so they can experience an internal battle between what they want and what they should do. In general these natives are destined to proffesional success just because they will actively work to achieve every dream they have, not by luck but by hard work

Aquarius/ 11th house: Fear of not fitting in with anybody These are very rational and selective people, they don't allow too much people into their inner circle even though they usually feel very connected to large groups, they prefer quality over quantity when it comes to friends. They are usually the father/mother in their group of friends, it can cause a lot of stress on them but they innately feel this need of giving mental clarity to those who are important for them. I have seen in these natives that they feel more connected to the family they find through their life than their own biological family and they feel very pressured to be valued and appreciated by their friends, like their friend's perspective of them is more important than their own self perception. Bad aspected, Saturn here can tend to isolation to avoid the responsabilities that an emotional bond could involve but deep inside they crave for that fraternal bond based on loyalty. These natives may not feel comfortable on team work but they have a lot of talent to do it, in fact, people who work with them tend to rely a lot on these natives because of their wisdom and talent to see the bigger picture.

Pisces/ 12th house: Fear to the unseen or what's hidden This is a complicated placement to have but it also have some nice blessings when Saturn's energy is channeled in a healthy way. These natives are very sensitive to what's going on outside of them, it's like being on perpetual state of alert in case any hidden danger appears, they are usually very suspisious of other people's intentions too. There's predisposition to paranoia, lack of trust and pesimism because anything could become a potential danger, their subconscious mind is really wide but these natives can fear their own mind from a very young age, usually they experience some kindof complications in the womb of their mothers, if this is your placement I highly suggest you to ask your mum how her pregnancy was. The good thing about this placement is the connection to the collective subconscious, this makes the natives really good at knowing other people's needs and deficiencies, knowing someone's problem makes it easier to find a solution so these natives usually dedicate their lives to the service of others, they fear what other people could do against them but they can't fight the urge to help others. These placement have some warnings, the first one would be the tendency to isolation after overstimulation, the second one would be about institutions, there's a karmic debt torwards them so be careful because they could end up locked up in them willingly or not, depending on the native . Unwillingly it could be ending up in jail, hospitals and that sort of institutions, but willingly they could be very healpful for the people who are locked inside those places, I met a girl with this placement that work as a therapist in a female prison and she was really loved there.

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 17

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hii guys! I appreciate all the love! Hope you’re loving the series so far! 🤍 Next chapter will be out Thursday! Don’t forget to like and reblog, it really means the world!

Billie’s POV

“Billie!”

“Forget about it. Don’t bother trying anymore.”

“What are you saying?” I watched her continue to pace.

“You break all your fucking promises! You couldn’t even prioritize me this one time!” She shouted, her voice higher pitched than usual.

“Billie I have to take care of myself too! We’re not married! We don’t have to be attached at the hip every second of the day!” I yelled.

“That’s not-“

I cut her off, grabbing her duffle bag and tugging on it so she’ll stop. “You’re not gonna do this again! You’re not gonna disappear and stop talking to me just because I couldn’t cancel my life to be in yours!”

She yanked it back aggressively, “What difference does it make! I don’t see you unless I make the effort! Our plans don’t matter to you!”

“That’s not true! I could’ve just cancelled on you, but I made the effort so this wouldn’t happen again!” I shouted, successfully taking her bag out of her hands, causing her to stumble a bit. “Stop pushing me away!”

“Stop breaking my heart! Every time, you tell me you’re going to make time for me, then you find something more important, you break my heart!” She pulled her bag out of my grasp by the straps, pushing me backwards so I wouldn’t fight it.

My stupid high heels gave in, causing me to fall between a coffee table and the couch. She dropped the duffle, letting it fall by her feet and immediately reaching her arms out.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean to-“

I smacked her hands away, grabbing onto the side of the couch and helping myself up. “Don’t.” I glared at her.

She sighed, watching me take off my heels.

“Fine, Billie, have it your way. You want me to come see you so bad, and when I finally do, you find things to be mad at me about. I can’t do everything you want me to do whenever you want me to do it!”

“OH! So she CAN stand up for yourself?” She snaps.

For some reason this was my last straw. “You are such a fucking asshole! Nothing is ever good enough for you! Imagine if every time I needed you and you were busy with touring, or interviews, I made you feel like shit for not being here!”

I shoved her backwards a couple times as I ranted.

The expression on her face was unfamiliar, like she was looking at a stranger. She looked shocked, astounded, even. Before she could even react she stumbled back, over the duffel bag. She caught herself, avoiding a bad fall.

“You’re a bad friend! You only care about yourself!” Tears escaped my eyes as she wrapped her hands around both my wrists to stop me from continuing to shove her.

“Remy, quit.” She grasped tightly into my wrists, but the adrenaline kept me from noticing as I continued to walk us across the room. “Stop, I don’t want to hurt you!” She shouted in my face, knowing she could forcefully restrain me, but chose not to.

Her back pressed up against the wall and her hands migrated to my triceps, all in one swift motion. She held me there, looking into my eyes, not exactly scared, but perhaps beside herself.

“You need to go.” She glanced between the door and us, motioning for me to leave.

“I got tossed around at work for months, and I needed you here with me, and you were everywhere else! But did I fucking attack you for it? No! Because your job is sooo important and makes you sooo much money-“

“Yours doesn’t make you happy! You know it’s true! Look at you! Do you enjoy dressing up in short dresses for old men so they let you be part of the conversation?!” She secured me in her firm hold.

“No, dude! What the hell is this? Huh? Why are you so fucking obsessed with what I wear, and what I do at work? Why are you so up my ass about everything-“

“I don’t like what you’ve become! They’re changing you, I’m losing my best friend!” She looked me up and down, keeping a tight grip on me.

My nails dug into her arms, attempting to get them off me. “No, because you do this shit with anyone I’m interested in- Everything has to go through a quality check with you. Why are you so fucking jealous of anything at all I give my attention to!?”

“I don’t care, I was right about Stevie! It took you like five hours to figure out what I knew the second I laid eyes on her!”

“Why are you SO obsessed with Stevie? Do you, like, have some fucking crush on me, or something?!” I tore her hands off me, backing away.

She stared at me, her back still leaned against the wall. There was pain in her eyes. Silence fills the room as I pick up my clutch and step into the shoes that I’d haphazardly thrown to the side, slipping them on as best I could.

When I looked at her again, I saw her quickly glance away and wipe her eyes.

“Okay, Regina George.” She squinted her eyes at me, defensively. “I’m just trying to look out for you because I know how you are!” She shouted.

“You don’t know anything about me! Not anymore. Your world is too far detached from mine. All I do is walk on fucking eggshells around you because lately, I’m so scared to piss you off, or- or disappoint you!” I reached out my arm pointing towards her.

“What? How?!” She winced.

“You’re my best friend! You’re the last person that’s supposed to make me feel like that! I have too many people in my life that make me feel like that!” My voice was scratchy, breaking at the sight of tears coming from Billie’s eyes too. “Why cant you see that I’m trying? Why does no one see that? No one appreciates anything I fucking do!”

Her sad eyes widened, “That’s not true! I love you more than anything! I appreciate-“

I cut her off, “Then why is everything I do with my life such a fucking inconvenience to you!”

“You make me feel like the least important fucking person on the planet. If you think I’m a piece of shit friend, what the fuck does that make you?” She cried, wiping her tears away before they could fall. “You fucking promised!”

“I kept my fucking promise, Billie!” I got closer to her again.

“I was the last fucking stop of your day! I wanted to be the first!”

“What else did you want, princess?”

She screamed in my face, “Nothing! Not anymore!”

She wiped at her eyes again, smudging her eyeliner even more than it already was.

“Fine.” I fidget with the straps on my heels, bending over to see them better through my water eyes.

Finneas opened the door, scaring me a little. “Hey, everyone is waiting for you guys in the bus.” He said, poking his head in. He quickly notices Billie in tears, and the dense energy floating about the room.

“Everything… okay?” He walked in, looking at us both.

“No.” She said. “I want her to leave.”

Finneas looked between her and I, trying to figure out what had just happened. He opened his mouth to say something, but took it back, exchanging a look with Billie.

I began to walk out, but Finneas stopped me, blocking the door. “You both need to just have a talk. I think there’s-“

“No, Finneas, let her leave. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What doesn’t matter anymore?” Finneas asks, urgently. I glance at Billie, seeing her rub her temples to combat a couple tics.

“Any of it! This. Us.” I answer for her.

Finneas grabbed Billie’s duffle bag off the floor, noticing the footprint tracks all over it from being stepped on.

I walked out, not even bothering to limp. I didn’t even notice I had rolled my ankle when she pushed me, but the adrenaline from our explosion flowed through my body. It wasn’t until I sat in the empty lobby, calling an uber to take me to the nearest hotel I could afford, that I noticed how swollen it was.

While I waited, Finneas reappeared, wondering if I was okay. I’m sure billie caught him up because he asked me if I needed help finding a flight back home.

I shook my head, “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” I closed my eyes, putting my face in my hands. “Probably just get a rental and drive home.”

“Well, we’ll be here until late tomorrow. You got a place to stay tonight?”

I nodded. He let me know where they’d be staying for the night and said his goodbyes, as my uber pulled up. He walked me out to it, verifying the driver was legit and I climbed in the back seat.

Finneas leaned into the car, resting his elbows into the door frame, “You know, she’s the one who asked me to come check on you… To make sure you make it out okay. She told me not to let you leave unless I make sure you’re gonna be safe.”

I stared at the seat in front of me, blinking slowly.

“Have a good night.” He tapped the top of the sedan after closing the door for me.

At the hotel, I limped out of my stupid dress, and climbed in bed. With no change of clothes, I knew I had to figure something out tomorrow. I laid there, my eyes open, staring at the ceiling. My brain so unsatisfied, revisiting things I said or did, coming up with anything that would make things different. I knew I would barely get any sleep tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the morning sun came back around, I woke up to the hotel phone ringing. “Hello?”

“Hello, I was just calling from the front desk to let you know someone is here asking for you.”

“Who is it?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“A Maggie Baird?”

I sighed, relieved it wasn’t Billie. “Send her up, please.”

I got up and wrapped a large, white hotel robe around me, waiting for Maggie to knock on my door. Meanwhile, I checked my phone, seeing 4 missed calls from work, already knowing I’d never hear the end of it from Joe.

When she came in, she had a tote bag full of stuff. “Hey sweetheart, I brought you some clothes and shoes. Finneas told me you were limping pretty bad and Billie thinks you flew here with nothing.” She set it on my bed.

“Thanks, Maggie.”

She hugged me, rubbing my back. “Of course, honey. You know, it’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t think so, I can’t keep doing this back and forth with her. We’re just from two different worlds.”

“You two grew up in the same world, you know?” She watched me walk over to the bed, examining the clothes inside the tote.

I wondered if I should even bother explaining anything. I’m sure Billie already told her everything, and painted me out to be the bad guy.

“I know, but I think now we’re too different.”

“You guys are best friends. You don’t know how much she cares about you, Remy.” She sat next to me, pulling me into her shoulder.

“I care about her too, but clearly it’s not enough.”

“Well I want you to know that I love you dearly, and I’m always going to be here for you.” I sighed, wishing I had a mother like Maggie. I thought of all the times I needed a mom, and Maggie stepped up, making me feel like part of the family. “Don’t be a stranger, please.”

I nodded, giving her a hug. “Thank you for bringing this. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else. You have a way to get home?”

“Yeah.” I lied.

“Okay, be safe, hun.” She left.

I could smell that all too familiar scent coming from the clothing in the tote. I pulled out some white sweats and a white matching sweatshirt with Japanese writing on both of them. I saw a pair of Billie’s converse for me to wear and some socks rolled up inside them. A pair of boyshorts, a sports bra, and a hair tie were at the bottom as well, making me smile because she thought of even the smallest detail. I walked over to the shower, turning the knob to its hottest setting, and waiting for it to heat up.

Once clean, I put on the clothes, and checked out of my hotel. I ubered straight to the car rental and began the trip back home.

3 hours into the road trip, I checked my phone as it buzzed constantly, realizing it’d be best to call in sick, instead of ignoring the rest of my problems. I groaned, reaching for it in the passengers seat. Sadly, the Bluetooth on this old rental did not work, and the radio stations kept repeating the same 8 songs over and over again, driving me insane. I lowered the volume to give the office a call, but my phone slipped out of my hands.

“Fuck me, bro!” I stabilized the steering wheel and leaned down into the passenger’s seat floor, trying hard to reach for my phone.

I grabbed onto the floor mat, pulling it towards me in hopes my phone would be within reach. I heard someone on the opposite side of the highway honk their horn at my swerving, causing me to sit back up and look at the road ahead.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself. I tried one more time, touching it with my fingertips and using my nails to get it closer.

“Ha!” I grabbed it, immediately swerving back into my lane. I began typing, letting Joe know I was sick but would be back in tomorrow.

As I hit send, everything went completely black.

[valkyriexo]

When You Start Getting Distant Because You’re in a Relationship | Maknae Line

ᑉ³pairing; Friend! OT8 x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Headcannon, angst

ᑉ³warnings; none I think!

ᑉ³authors note; You guys seemed to like the hyung line! Here is the Maknae Version Hyung Line

╰┈➤ Han

Tries to act like nothing’s wrong, but it’s so obvious something is. He still jokes around, still sends you funny messages—but there’s hesitation now, a nervousness in his texts that wasn’t there before.

Overthinks everything. Did he say something weird? Is he being annoying? Are you ignoring him on purpose? His brain runs in circles, making up worst-case scenarios.

Writes songs about it. Instead of telling you how he feels, he pours it all into lyrics....verses full of confessions, frustration, and so much longing.

Tries to distract himself with food and games, but nothing feels the same. Even his favorite snacks taste bland when you’re not there to steal a bite. His high scores don’t feel like victories when you’re not there to celebrate.

Gets weirdly competitive with your S/O—even if they don’t know it. If they post a funny joke, he has to post something funnier. If they do something romantic, he mutters, “I could’ve done it better.”

Has a hard time Dealing with his emotions. Emotions and Han Jisung don’t mix well...so it explodes out of him all at once.

"You’re really just gonna leave me behind like this?"

The words come out sharper than he intended, but he can’t stop them. His usual playfulness is gone.

"I mean, seriously—what happened? One second, we’re fine, and the next, I barely exist to you."

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t text first anymore. You cancel plans. And every time I try to talk to you, it’s like you’re already halfway out the door."

You try to explain, but he just throws his hands up.

"I get it, okay? You have someone now. But did that mean I had to lose you completely?"

His voice is quieter now, but his eyes, usually so full of light, are clouded with something else.

"I was supposed to be that person."

His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

"You think I didn’t notice? The way I felt whenever you were around? The way I’d drop everything just to see you smile?" He laughs bitterly. "I knew it before I even admitted it to myself."

Then, finally, his voice barely above a whisper—

"But I guess I was too late, huh?"

And for once, Jisung has no joke to cover up the pain.

╰┈➤ Felix

Tries to be supportive, even when it hurts. He forces a smile, tells you he’s happy for you, and pretends like his heart isn’t sinking every time you mention your S/O.

Still checks up on you, even if you don’t check up on him. Sends you little “Did you eat?” or “Get home safe” texts, even when you stop replying as fast as you used to.

Bakes way too much. His kitchen turns into an emotional war zone....cookies, brownies, cakes, anything to keep himself busy. But no matter how many sweets he makes, nothing takes away the bitter feeling in his chest.

Tries to keep up his usual affection, but it feels… different. He hesitates before reaching for a hug, pulls away too quickly, laughs a little softer when you ruffle his hair.

Plays video games as an escape. But even when he wins, it doesn’t feel as satisfying when you’re not there to celebrate with him.

Finally breaks when he realizes you’re truly slipping away. He wanted to be patient, wanted to be the good friend, but that didnt go as planned.

"You don’t need me anymore, do you?"

Felix’s voice is quiet, almost trembling, but his eyes are locked onto yours...searching, begging for an answer he’s afraid to hear.

"I mean… I get it," he laughs weakly, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You have someone now. You’re happy. That’s all I ever wanted."

He pauses, swallows hard.

"But… was I ever that important to you?"

Your breath catches, and he takes a shaky step back, hands clenching at his sides.

"Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore." His voice wavers, his deep tone softer than ever. "I’m still here, you know? I still—" He stops himself, letting out a quiet sigh.

Then, almost too soft to hear—

"I still love you."

It’s out before he can take it back, and when he sees your eyes widen, he lets out a small, sad chuckle.

"I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was enough just to be near you. But then you started pulling away, and suddenly, I wasn’t even part of your life anymore."

His voice cracks, and he shakes his head, looking down.

"I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I?"

When he looks back up, his usual warmth is dimmer.

"But it’s too late now, isn’t it?"

╰┈➤ Seungmin

Acts like he doesn’t care—but oh, he cares. His usual teasing gets a little sharper, his sarcasm a little more pointed. He pretends everything is normal, but his eyes tell a different story.

Stops reaching out first. If you want to talk to him, you can text him. (Except he still waits for your messages, still checks his phone way too often, still hopes.)

Gets quieter around you. Normally, he always has a witty remark, a playful jab...but now, there are more pauses, more silences that stretch a little too long.

Starts staying late at practice, distracting himself with work. If he can’t talk to you, he’ll at least be productive about it.

Refuses to admit he’s jealous, even when it’s painfully obvious. If someone points it out, he scoffs, “Jealous? Of what? Please.” (Meanwhile, his grip on his water bottle tightens.)

Finally breaks when he catches you actively avoiding him. He was fine with being second place.....until he realizes he’s not even in the running anymore.

"Are you serious?"

Seungmin’s voice is steady.....too steady. He stares at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something burning behind his eyes.

"So this is how it is now?" He lets out a short, humorless laugh. "You don’t even bother pretending anymore, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably, and he shakes his head, jaw clenching.

"You didn’t even notice, did you?" His tone is sharp, but there’s something underneath it...something fragile, something aching.

"I stopped texting first. I stopped calling. I stopped everything just to see if you’d even care. And guess what?" He exhales sharply, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again.

"You didn’t."

The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected.

For a second, he looks like he wants to stop himself. Like he wants to shove the words back down. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you even know how stupid I feel?" His voice drops lower, quieter. "Standing here, saying all this, when I already know how it ends?"

Then, almost as if the confession is being dragged out of him—

"I liked you, you know."

A bitter smile tugs at his lips.

"Maybe I still do."

His fingers curl into fists at his sides, but his voice stays painfully steady.

"But I’m not going to beg for your attention."

With one last glance...one that lingers just a second too long...he steps back.

"So if you’re going to keep pushing me away, then fine. I’ll stop trying."

╰┈➤ Jeongin

Tries to play it cool but completely fails. He acts like everything is fine, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore.

Laughs less around you. Normally, he lights up when you’re near, but now, his laughter feels forced...like he’s just going through the motions.

Overthinks everything. Did he do something wrong? Did he annoy you? Or are you just done with him? His thoughts spiral, but he never asks, too scared of the answer.

Becomes awkwardly formal. Where he used to call you cute nicknames or casually tease you, now it’s just “Oh, hey,” and “Yeah, sure.” Like he’s putting up a wall between you.

Starts avoiding you, even though you’re the one pulling away. If you don’t need him, maybe it’s better if he keeps his distance too. But it hurts more than he thought it would.

He sees you with your S/O and realizes he’s not the person you run to anymore. He wasn’t going to say anything, but his heart doesn’t listen.

"Do you even miss me?"

The question slips out before Jeongin can stop it, and when you turn to look at him, his lips press together like he already regrets saying it.

"Because it really doesn’t feel like you do."

His voice is soft, but there’s a rawness to it....like he’s been holding this in for way too long.

"I get it," he says, forcing a smile. "You’re happy. You have someone now. But..." His voice trails off, and he lets out a small, bitter laugh. "I guess I just didn’t think I’d lose you completely."

You start to say something, but he shakes his head.

"I used to be the one you told everything to. The one who could make you laugh even on your worst days." He swallows hard, voice growing quieter. "Now, I’m just someone you used to be close with, huh?"

He looks away, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself together.

"I really liked you, you know."

The confession is barely above a whisper, like he doesn’t even want to hear himself say it.

"But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?"

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[dailyrothko]

I love your blog and appreciate how dedicated you are to rothko and his works. I hope you never feel ashamed for pointing out fakes on people’s posts or when scans are done strangely. It’s important that there are people out there knowledgeable enough to point out these things, especially when rothko’s works are so controversial and misunderstood. Thank you for all that you do!

Well, thank you, that's very kind of you to say.

I think people are annoyed with me, like I am keeping them from posting in peace. However, I feel as you do that these misattributions, misconceptions and fakes just populate the internet and then people who really appreciate his work get bombarded with misinformation.

The other thing is that people forget these works are copyrighted. You can't just reproduce them or photoshop the any way you want as part of your art or something, you can get in trouble that way.

One of the ways I try to be respectful to the work and the family, is by trying to correct some of these commonly made mistakes. I understand why people get annoyed but I hope they can understand my position, which is that, I have the largest social media account dedicated to this artist on the internet. I must take some responsibility as people come to me for this kind of info.

This sounds pompous, but it's just the result of doing this for so long. People think I'm a bot, because bots (like the artist-___ accounts) post badly sourced material all over social media so they can steal your personal information. I am just one person doing it every day and I get maybe 30 questions a day about this work. So many of these questions are reactions to misinformation or fake work that has been going around the internet for ages. The fakes are often on "Lifestyle blogs" which reach more people than art blogs. So, it's a case of trying to fight back against the tide.

Really, thanks for your support.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Original Sin: The Failure of the Dancestors

Establishing an Eden-like paradise from which there is some departure through sin is sort of the boilerplate basis for religious lore. [...] The failed players from peaceful Alternia made a classic "deal with the devil" move by causing the scratch after being given a choice by the mother of all monsters. (Echidna. Hey, she's a big snake!) By doing so they brought Scratch into their universe, and therefore all the things you'd expect that comes with summoning the devil.

Andrew Hussie, Formspring, Aug. 12, 2011.

Warnings for: Mostly? I'm going to be really mean to the dancestors, so if you aren't here for a thorough (and I mean thorough) dancestor takedown, please do not read this. Ableism, questionable consent and outright non-consent, horrific interpersonal relationships, and Cronus ahead.

Overview

I hesitated to write this because I know there will be some really controversial interpretations in here. Many of the circumstances I bring up as failures on the Dancestors' part are interpreted by the fandom as positive things. A common one I've run into before is Latula x Mituna, where I maintain it's bad, but the fandom often sees them as cute. I'll also be condemning things like Horuss's plurality, or Cronus's kinning, not because I have any beef towards this stuff IRL, but because they're framed as failings on the characters' part within the context of the comic, and I'm analyzing the characters within the context of the comic. I'm not asking anyone to agree with me, but I am asking that you approach this essay with an open mind, and not send death threats over a silly webcomic from the early 2010's. I would not be asking for this if it hadn't already happened, which was embarrassing for all of us TBH.

The Dancestors, as made clear from the Hussie quote, are the story's original sin - the initial failure point from which all the comic's problems stem. Their role in the story is antagonistic - with very little exception, the Dancestors are not meant to be sympathetic, and/or their flaws outweigh their sympathetic qualities. Every single one of them succumbed to some major failure (some their own fault, some brought on by others on the team), and practically only Porrim showed any improvement after death.

There's another really important thematic shadow hanging over them: if Homestuck is a coming-of-age, then the Dancestors represent a prior generation that reached physical maturity, but failed to grow up.

[The dancestors' choices] resulted not only turning Alternia into a planet full of violent murderers, but it only technically granted them what they wanted with a huge caveat, as is the case with such ill-advised bargains. The players were strong enough to win, but made a terminal universe, were barred from entry, hunted by a demon, and then started killing each other.

They're an older generation defined by how entitled and immature they are, who invited terrible forces into society and allowed the perpetuation of cruelty to continue after them. In other words, theyre boomers. It's important to note that they literally had the choice, before their Scratch, to prevent the birth of LE by simply choosing to let their species die with them - but they made the selfish choice of what was, functionally, having kids:

The heroes could either accept their defeat along with the extinction of their race, and put no others at risk. Or, [Echidna] could show them a path to a second chance, to a reality in which the chosen heroes of their race would be strong enough to succeed with ease, and claim the reward.

For more on Homestuck's coming-of-age, anti-fascist, and feminist themes, please see my essay on the Alpha Timeline. Note that I have an updated opinion: the ending was, in fact, bad on purpose, because it was a continuation of the theme of narration needing to be refuted - "who's telling the story, and why are we listening to them?" You can read more about that here. Sorry to have to link two long essays at the beginning of a really long essay, but these are the backing arguments to many of the claims I'm about to make.

I also want to refute a common fandom belief. A take I commonly see is "the dancestors are one-dimensional assholes as a snub to the fandom" - this is not true, at least to any extent moreso than the Alternian trolls.

Yes, the dancestors are riffs of Common Fandom Types of Guy, especially Types of Guy on Tumblr while the comic was being written. However, the beta trolls/kids are ALSO Internet Types of Guy - the reason the trolls are named "trolls" is because part of their original conception was that they each represented a common type of forum troll. The dancestors aren't making fun of the audience any more than the Alternian trolls are, since Hussie got his start on fora.

Moreover, they aren't actually one-dimensional, or at least not in a way meant to be a snub to people. In fact, I find the entire attitude people have that they're somehow owed the dancestors being "good" or "likable" weird. The dancestors, as I said before, are antagonistic - if not at times outright villainous. They're the story's cautionary tale, a look at what happens when a session fails and the kids in it don't grow up.

On the whole, they simply don't need a bigger role in the story than just existing, as their past actions are what spurred the plot into action, and their narrative utility now is as a window into those. Moreover, if you read between the lines and analyze them a little beyond the surface, there's actually a lot going on, which I hope to uncover in this essay.

On the Topic of Kid-Kissing

It needs to be addressed now and needs to be addressed early. The dancestors are physically 19, and the beta/alpha kids are 16 at the oldest and 13 at the youngest. Lots of the dancestors are uncomfortably okay with pursuing romantic relationships or performing romantic acts with these actual children. Cronus gets the most flak for it, but the list includes:

Cronus, who asks Eridan on a date,

Meenah, who has a "manic obsession" with Karkat, and later dates Vriska,

Meulin, who eagerly offers to ship Meenah with Karkat in red, and gets really excited about shipping the children in general, calling them her "gay babies",

Aranea, who's willing to smooch Jake in a sexy way as part of healing his brain because she thinks he's attracted to her.

Now, as gross as this all is, I do think it serves a narrative purpose. One can debate whether that narrative purpose was worth its inclusion at all, but I'm personally going to bypass this discussion since this damn essay is long enough. At least I'll clarify what I believe the narrative purpose is:

It was an extant trope at the time of the comic's writing (which has thankfully fallen out of favor) that an adult character would date a highschooler in order to show how immature, and not suited for adulthood, the adult was. One of the most famous examples of this is Scott Pilgrim's relationship with a high schooler in Scott Pilgrim, something other characters call him out on constantly.

Given that basically none of these dancestor/child relationships are intended to be read as comfortable, pleasant, or even good (I'll get more into this later), I fully believe that this is the reason for their inclusion in the story: a demonstration of the dancestors' immaturity and failure to grow up, such to the point that they see actual children as viable dating partners.

Finally, while most of the dancestors have very limited screentime, one thing we DO have is all their classpects. I'll be using my definitions, which you can find here. Please note that, while that essay does not have any textual evidence (as it was already 10k words long without any), I'm willing to back up every claim in there with textual evidence upon request.

The TL;DR is that class is correlated with character arc and starting circumstances, while aspect is correlated with base personality traits, and what qualities would make the character a successful (and unsuccessful) hero of said aspect.

I firmly believe that, given what's in the comic, it's entirely possible to deduce what each class and aspect actually do, so being provided with every Dancestor's classpect means that we have a very powerful vector by which we can understand how their tragedy unfurled.

So please join me as we turn over this big rock and take a peek at all the skeletons living in the dancestors' closets. There are a lot of them, and they are rancid, but the complex ways they interlock are endlessly fascinating, and I hope you walk away from this with some new insight, or at least a new perspective.

Establishing a Baseline

First and foremost, let's factually review the events leading up to the dancestors' Scratch, organized in the way that makes the most sense to me. Many of these events don't have any set timelines, and aren't even described in relation to each other, but by going over them in general, we can get a big picture overview of the tragedies, and it helps to make sense of the interlocking nature of their failure.

Pre-Game

The dancestors grow up in a version of troll society as designed by Feferi Peixes, where the main difference between the two is that "culling" means "coddling excessively" rather than killing. Therefore, casteism still exists, but usually does not have as life-threatening effects. Characters who would've been culled on Alternia are likewise targets for culling on Beforus - this is most relevant to Mituna and Kankri.

Meenah finds the idea of becoming the next empress so distasteful that she flees to the pink moon, where she finds and transcribes the code for SGRUB and bothers her friends into playing it with her, in large part because it promises an escape from her responsibilities.

Cronus believes he's a chosen one destined to defeat an evil wizard, who tried to kill him when he was a wiggler. The story is one part Harry Potter and Voldemort, and one part Definitely About Lord English.

Kurloz and Meulin are probably dating in red, and Kurloz and Mituna are probably dating in pale.

Latula suffers an injury that leaves her unable to smell, something she remains insecure about for the rest of her existence. Communing with her lusus à la Terezi teaches her "new ways to smell".

Damara and Rufioh are dating in red.

Kankri was likely culled on sight, while Mituna was destined for one of the highest/"cushiest'" degrees of culling possible, echoing Karkat's and Sollux's relationships with culling.

Porrim is being trained for the breeding caverns as a jade-blood, and is not happy about it. It's likely that jades are the caste with the least privileges and freedoms, given the culling system (yes, I know culling is still a form of oppression, but it's still a cushy position to be in, compared to jades being forced to work breeding duties by birth).

During the Game

All of this happens over the course of six years.

Mituna spends the whole game attempting to warn his team to stop being such assholes or else something really bad is going to happen to them, using the prophetic insight he has as a Doom player.

Meenah starts cruelly bullying Damara, under the supposed motivation of "trying to galvanize the team into action".

Porrim outright ignores frog breeding, opting instead to go on a bra-burning rampage across her session.

Meulin is shipping her friends. Due to her Mage powers and predilections, not only do these ships come true, but they're really unhealthy and toxic as a rule.

Horuss begins an affair with Rufioh.

Kankri argues with himself nonstop, rendering most memos pointless.

Kurloz has a terrible nightmare and accidentally deafens Meulin, an act he finds so shameful that he stitches his own mouth shut. The two break up, but are still "very close friends"/in a situationship.

Someone talks Cronus out of his wizard beliefs, likely Kankri, and Cronus completely loses faith in magic, as well as a sense of identity. This is really bad, given what Hope does.

Meenah finds out about Rufioh and Horuss's affair and uses it as bullying fodder.

Damara snaps, kills Meenah, renders Rufioh a quadruplegic, and begins to perform acts of "timeline sabotage," which are even more impactful given her Witch class. It's heavily implied that Damara is the cause of the dancestors not performing their own ectobiology, the glitch that rendered their game unwinnable and serves as a "calling card" for LE.

Mituna tries to divert a terrible tragedy, something "only Kurloz was witness to". Said tragedy is implied to be Kurloz's Prince meltdown, and Mituna fails, rendering him brain damaged to the extent that he can no longer think or speak coherently. The team does NOT heal him or even reference TRYING to heal him, as it's implied they're more comfortable with him like this than they were with him telling them they were all doomed assholes.

Kurloz fully commits to his doomsday clown religion and begins using Meulin and Mituna as hynopuppets/conduits to bring about the end. It's likely that they rope Damara into their religion at this time.

Latula and Mituna start dating in red. For various reasons I'll get into later, this relationship seems to have started AFTER Mituna's injury.

Meenah bakes a cake. Isn't that nice.

It's never made very clear how long it took for all of this to go down, but the way it's framed is that everything major happened fairly early on, before the Reckoning, and they spent the rest of their session faffing around. While the beta kids have a nonstandard-ly short session, the beta trolls have what seems to be a more standard timeframe of about 612 hours, or several weeks. Again... SIX YEARS elapse. The dancestors reach the age of physical adulthood within the game.

Finally, seeing no way out, Aranea goes to Echidna for her quills in order to initiate the Scratch. The Choice that she's given is to immediately stymie the harm the dancestors' actions will bring (LE) by letting their species die with them, or to try again by passing the buck onto the next generation of heroes. The pick is obvious.

Damara, who's been uncooperative since she snapped, chooses to help out with the Scratch, muttering that everyone will "get what they deserve".

Meenah uses a tumor-like bomb to kill them all just before the Scratch goes off, in the window where god tier immortality pauses before bringing them back. This allows them to exist in the afterlife with memories fully intact. It's not fully clear how many of them achieved god tier before dying.

Afterlife

Meenah stays in her castle, echoing the way she fled responsibility to the pink moon, for the millenia that her friends have been mingling in the afterlife. Her descent from her castle after LE starts popping bubbles is the first time she's interacted with her team since she died.

Porrim is the ONLY dancestor that shows improvement or reflection, coming to view her frog breeding duties as something she probably should have paid more attention to, and toning down her feminism to thoughtful, reasonable critiques. This still doesn't excuse her total bystander nature while everything else was happening, which continues into the afterlife, but it's nice to see that she's doing better, since that's so rare in this team.

Kurloz starts readying for Lord English's birth, building labyrinths in the afterlife and using Meulin and Mituna as mind-controlled helpers (and possibly Damara as well).

Meulin and Horuss start dating in pale after Horuss is inspired by the meowrails. Despite Horuss's internal anguish and anger, he's been told by Meulin to cover it up with forced positivity no matter what.

Cronus is kinning a 1950's human greaser, an act which he himself admits is probably just a cry for attention, and a greater symptom of his struggles with personal identity in the wake of losing interest in magic and wizardry.

Rufioh wants to break up with Horuss, but doesn't have the backbone to to get pushy with these requests. Horuss has difficulty hearing what he doesn't want to hear, so Rufioh winds up wilting and agreeing to continue dating him every time he tries breaking up with him.

Aranea... does all that, spurred on by a desire to be important.

Meenah decides to encourage Vriska to shirk responsibility, running off with her and starting a romantic relationship with her.

Woof, that's a lot! So, now that we've established an overview of what went wrong, something I should probably note:

It's not JUST that Damara caused the timeline glitch that retroactively summoned LE, or JUST that Meenah bullied her. When I say that the dancestors' failure is multivalent and interlocking, I mean it - especially once you get into the implications of their classpects. Cronus being a Bard of Hope - Hope being the aspect of making fake things real - losing faith in his own destiny of defeating an evil wizard likely had some karmic contribution to the first half of that destiny - the existence of the evil wizard in the first place - coming true. So on and so on. So the rest of this essay will be a deeper look into each individual dancestor, and the contributions they made towards the ultimate blowout.

Porrim Maryam: The Ultimate Bystander

Porrim's drama is the least connected to the various conflicts suffered by everyone else, though it's one of the most consequential.

The Maid of Space was of course our all-important Space player and Stoker of the Forge, 8ut as you know, we never made much progress on the frog 8reeding front, or really any aspect of the game 8efore the reckoning. [...] She challenged these roles wherever they existed in 8eforan society, as well as where she found them woven into our session, in kingdoms, class assignments, consort culture and the like.

While she is pretty much the only dancestor that reflected on her failures - having come to a realization after her game's Reckoning that she probably should've paid attention to frog breeding - the fact remains that she totally ignored this duty in favor of going on a feminist rampage.

I do actually believe there is merit to her viewpoint, something Hussie appears to agree with:

HUSSIE: Porrim is better at social justice than Kankri because she isn't a boring asshole. [...] Porrim wants there to be equality for ladies. Not everybody cares about that though, which makes it hard for people like Porrim. That's the way it is in the real world. CHALLENGES.

Note that while Hussie is a deeply unreliable narrator (he describes his own self-insert as "oafish" and "buffoonish" in the book commentary, and his narration being biased and full of holes is a very deliberate choice), there is still meaning to be gleaned from his words, especially once you identify what biases he's performing. In this case, I think he's being genuine, as Homestuck has a deeply feminist and anti-patriarchy message overall, which I touch on in my essay about the Alpha Timeline.

However, Porrim's failure is that, as correctly as she identified sexism as being an issue, she became tunnel-visioned on it to the point that she failed to do anything useful at all. Frog breeding, AKA creating a new universe, is practically the entire point of SGRUB, and though her energies could've been focused on creating a new world free of sexism, she prioritized nitpicking it in session constructs.

Her other big failure is that of being a total bystander. In her conversations with Latula and Meenah, Porrim doesn't make any references at all to the bullying Meenah perpetrated, and otherwise seems surprised at the Redglare/Mindfang situation. She's also known as promiscuous, willing to sleep around with nearly anyone, tacitly approving of her teams' actions. Much of her feminist rhetoric is undercut by the fact that she has no comment to make on the way Meenah - the team's rich fuchsia - was primarily targetting a rustblood immigrant. It's implied her constant bickering with Kankri was in part due to her complete lack of intersectionality (with the other, more major part being Kankri's misogyny, but we'll get to that).

Interestingly enough, these three failures - poor prioritization, tunnel vision, and bystanderism - are failures of Space. There are two ways for an aspect (which is associated with base personality) to fail - the first is a toxic overabundance of the aspect's natural worst traits, and the second is a dearth of its positive qualities, to the point of resembling its counterpart. Space is associated with cycles and interconnectivity, patience and passivity. Its players are distractible and frivolous, but kind and permissive. However, it's easy for Space players to become so distracted that they lose sight of the bigger picture - we see this in Porrim's poor prioritization, and the tunnel vision she incurs in pursuit. It's also easy for them to become so passive that bad actors take advantage, and this, too, is present in Porrim's complete failure to grasp her team's cruelties.

Maids, meanwhile, are victims of oppression, and start the game under some form of control. Jane's been bombarded with hypnotic subliminals her entire life, and is ultimately directly controlled hy the Condesce; Aradia is killed so as to be Doc Scratch's servant via the Handmaid, and Hussie even outright calls her a slave in his book commentary. Porrim is not an exception to this:

On 8eforus, well 8efore her drinker a8ilities had awakened, she grew up in the caste almost solely devoted to tending to the mother gru8, hatching the young and proliferating the 8rood. The jade 8loods were also an almost exclusively female caste, and she 8egan to resent the roles she was hatched into, designated for 8oth her class and gender.

Ultimately, Maids can't shake off their oppressors alone, and outside intervention is needed to rid them of their shackles. Nobody on Porrim's team seemed to give a shit about what she had to say, however, nor did they attempt to relieve her of frog breeding or attempt to alleviate her workload - leaving her ultimately shackled to frog breeding, which, aside from the final frog (usually implied to be long in the Space player's past), did not HAVE to be conducted by her. In fact, Echidna being Aranea's denizen, when she's normally associated with the frog-breeding Space player, further implies that it didn't necessarily need to be up to Porrim - perhaps the team could've come together to take up frog breeding, splitting the duties equally, freeing Porrim from oppression.

But that didn't happen, and thus, our Maid of Space is disconnected from everything but the breeding duties that bound her so.

Kankri Vantas: The Hemocaste's Number One Fan

Kankri is a casteist, ableist, slut-shaming misogynistic bootlicker.

I'm going to go a bit lighter on the citations, because he uses a hundred words where ten will do, but if you actually bother to read his diatribes, he's all-in on perpetuating oppression. Here's a quick rundown of some of the awful shit he's said:

He tells Mituna that Mituna is bad representation for disabled people, and basically tells him to his face that he wishes everything about him was different, likely as displaced jealousy that Mituna is dating Latula. This shows that his rhetoric is actually just a mask, a tool he uses to disguise his actual intentions.

He complains about how burgundies have to "check their privilege" because they don't know how good they have it compared to off-spectrums, showing that he resents it when others attempt to address their oppression.

He tells Porrim that he thinks misogyny isn't real, and then slut shames her by insinuating that she's even willing to go for the Mayor. Once more, a display of how he resents when others challenge his points, or try to take away attention from his causes.

He calls Horuss and Cronus's beliefs fake even as he's defending their right to believe in them, revealing that it's not about justice for him, but about whatever puts him in a position of power over the situation, as the quote-unquote "spiritual leader".

Kankri was very likely culled on sight for his mutant blood color, mirroring how Karkat would've been. He clearly has complicated feelings about this, as he reacts very poorly to Porrim's mothering, but it's also the source of his deep-seated casteism, and the favor he shows towards the two sea dwellers on the team. While it IS a form of oppression, those culled on Beforus ARE provided extremely comfortable lifestyles, and Kankri would've been subjected to an intense amount of pampering, being a mutant.

In other words, he's been taught his whole life that he's a very special little boy, and he both feels entitled to the emotional energies of others, and gets upset when he isn't the center of attention. In contrast to Porrim, who had valid points but prioritized poorly, for Kankri, "social justice" is just a smokescreen he uses as he verbally browbeats his team into falling into line. Any valid points he makes are twisted to suit his personal agenda of being the loudest voice in the room, and he hides behind them so nobody can properly challenge his position. The actual oppression he did face, and a genuine desire buried deep down to make the world a better place (which I do believe exists), are ultimately undercut by his willingness to play victim in order to sate his own desire for attention and control.

Kankri himself didn't contribute as directly to the team's failure, but he was, overall, a binding force of stasis - perpetuating societal prejudices, fixing them in place. It should be no surprise that the two who find Kankri the most tolerable - Horuss and Cronus - are the two biggest casteists on the team.

Blood is about bonds - familial, platonic, romantic, and societal. It governs oaths, promises, compatability, and all interpersonal relationships. Its players, in contrast to Breath's free-spirited youthfulness, tend to be neurotic and controlling. At their best, they're mature, empathetic, and responsible, and indeed Karkat is one of the most level-headed and generally correct members of his team when he's not flying off the handle, but at toxic overabundance, they become iron-fisted dictators, "my way or the highway" types - to the point of shirking their innate sense of empathy and natural compulsion to be helpful to others.

Seers, meanwhile, struggle with blindness - either by hubris and ego, or else by shame-induced self-infliction. Rose's ego prevented her from bonding with her mother, and her need to be the smartest person in the room let Doc Scratch manipulate her; she later copes with her grief by drinking herself stupid, opposite Light's association with knowledge and insight. Terezi boldly painted herself into a corner where the only option left was killing Vriska, and coped with the guilt by throwing herself into a toxic relationship with Gamzee, a Gamzee victory that triumphed over Mind's sense of justice and karma.

Kankri is so moved by ego - his selfish desires for a society that works best for him personally, and his confidence that he knows better than the rest of his team - that he's blind to how harmful his rhetoric is. He damages their ability to move forward by chaining them in place, an ultimate failure of Blood.

Moreover, he's also inflicted a "blindness" upon himself - due to his staunch celibacy, he doesn't seem to notice that he has clear red feelings for Latula and pale feelings for Cronus - and this is to disastrous effect. The motivator behind his cruelty to Mituna appears to be jealousy, and he interrupts a conversation Cronus is having with Meenah, where she's about to make him reflect on choices that are harming him, just in time to prevent Cronus from reaching his epiphany. In fact, it's implied that Kankri is the one who talked Cronus out of his wizard faith in the first place, which we'll get into later (this is the most direct contribution Kankri made to the dancestor's failure).

As such, our Seer of Blood is sightless, and through blindness both based in ego and self-inflicted, he can't see the damage he's dealing.

Cronus Ampora: Hopeless - And That's Everyone's Problem Now

Cronus is a nasty casteist fuckboy who's greatly disliked by his team, and also everyone else, for good reason. He's mostly irrelevant to everyone and failed to do anything of worth. The problem is, he's a Bard of Hope, and thus, was one of the greatest contributors to the creation of LE.

Cronus as we see him is easy to explain. He's fundamentally a directionless, shitty rich kid, who's never had real problems before, and thus, never had the kinds of formative experiences that would've built him a personal identity. In an effort to find something to give his directionless (after)life some meaning, he's decided that he's humankin, specifically a 1950's greaser. He's also trying to get laid for similar reasons. What else is there to do when you don't feel like you have a real personality, and thus, don't really know how to open up to others or connect on a deeper level, but still crave an intimate relationship of some sort?

The thing is, Cronus wasn't always this way, and in fact, started out his game quite different:

[H]e once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. Though when pressed for the name of the man, he would not say it, claiming it was too dangerous to even enunciate. Part of his self-aggrandizing mythos was that this magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. The attack supposedly left him with his distinctive scar, which he was not reluctant to point out when trying to hit on me.

Now, while this is definitely Harry Potter, it's also worded so as to resemble Lord English, and this is not a coincidence. You see, Hope is a power that makes fake things real.

Believing in things reduces their fakeness attribute. It's the force that shapes your reality, used to snatch personal meaning from the jaws of a cynical and nihilistic environment. Could this be why Hope is framed as the most fundamentally powerful aspect?

Ultimately, it didn't matter if Cronus's stupid wizard faith (and it is framed as a faith, a religious belief - put a pin in this) was real or not. In fact, the more credible journey for a Hope player would be if his personal mythos were fake - because Hope would've made it real.

However...

8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. [...] Perhaps someone talked him out of his 8eliefs. May8e a friend close to him. Or, if one is to 8elieve his fantasy held any water, perhaps someone who was in league with the evil magician.

As all Bards do, he suffered a crisis of faith, and he was never able to recover. Now, the identity of the person who talked him out of his religion is never made explicit, but I'm firmly convinced it was Kankri. First of all, who else on the team would qualify as a "friend close to him"? While "someone in league with the evil magician" might refer to Kurloz, Meulin, or Damara, Cronus seems wholly unrelated to the latter two, never mentioning them once, and while he's "scared" by Kurloz, it's not enough to not hit on him.

However, "in league with the evil magician" can also be interpreted metaphorically - someone who represents the same values as Lord English does, especially those of misogyny, fascism, and oppression. Which, again, points to Kankri. In fact, the main interaction Cronus has with Kankri illustrates the harm Kankri is doing to him: right as Cronus is about to have a personal epiphany that his humankin schtick is doing him more harm than good, Kankri jumps in to guilt-trip him until he continues with the act.

CRONUS: to be honest, she might be right. sometimes i think i might only be saying im a human to get attention. maybe i should givwe it up. KANKRI: I'd 6e extremely disapp9inted t9 hear that, if it were true. That w9uld 6e such a slap in the face t9 all th9se wh9 kn9w themselves t9 6e an alien while trapped in the pedestrian 69dy 9f their 9wn race. It w9uld 6e unspeaka6ly invalidating 9f their struggles and massively triggering t9 their em9ti9ns.  #TW #invalidated struggles #triggered em9ti9ns KANKRI: 6ut f9rtunately, I kn9w y9u w9uld never st99p as l9w as that. Y9u understanda6ly have d9u6ts a69ut y9ur feelings and pr96a6ly d9wnplay them as a defense mechanism, since s9 few are prepared t9 rec9gnize the legitimacy 9f y9ur plight. 6ut I am, and I just wanted y9u t9 kn9w that I'm here f9r y9u, and am prepared t9 lecture t9 y9u extensively, I mean, listen t9 y9u extensively, a69ut y9ur ultra-imp9rtant pr96lem.

Fucking Kankri! He doesn't even believe in Cronus's act himself (calling it a "fantasy versi9n 9f [him]self"), but Cronus's conversation with Meenah is pale-coded, with Cronus being the only person on the team able to make Meenah have doubts about how awesome the Condesce (and by extension, her own worst qualities) are, with her able to pierce through Cronus's bullshit and make him rethink his choices. But Kankri has a palecrush on Cronus, so he cannot abide by Cronus having a pale interaction with anyone else.

KANKRI: Listen, I was d9ing y9u a fav9r. Y9u d9n't need t9 6e dating any9ne wh9 can't appreciate y9u f9r wh9 y9u really are[.]

But his interruption of Cronus's character development, and also his breaking of Cronus's faith, aren't just disastrous for Cronus's ability to self-actualize - remember, Cronus is a Bard of Hope.

UU: while the more passive bard coUld be seen as "one who allows x to be destroyed, or invites destrUction throUgh x," as if by the will of the aspect. TT: I'm obviously no expert, but that sounds like a pretty odd thing for a Bard to do. UU: maybe! it's a qUirky class. UU: somewhat like a wildcard role for a hero. very Unpredictable. UU: they are typically known for their spontaneoUs and dramatic story-altering inflUence on the fate of a party. UU: some of the more remarkable tales involve sUch parties, where the bard is single handedly responsible for their spectacUlar downfall or improbable victory. or both!

Bards act as a conduit by which their Aspect dramatically alters fate, for better or for worse, and Hope is a power that makes fake things real. Cronus had a Bard crisis of faith, never recovered, and, in his failure to do so, began to exhibit his aspect at its nadir - where Hope players should be idealists, dreaming up better futures with a naive and shameless sincerity, Cronus has become self-conscious, frustrated with himself and magic, and utterly materialistic, seeking only immediate physical gratification. Hope, at its worst, picks out such bleak possibilities to invest its incredible, reality-altering power into, that it actually serves to close possibilities and ruin everything - mirroring Rage's ability to tear down false truths.

It is, therefore, incredibly likely that the direct manifestation of his Bard of Hope abilities is the materialization of the first half of Cronus's faith - the existence of the evil wizard - and not the second - that he would become a wizard to defeat him. This is one of the single greatest karmic contributions to LE's improbable existence. Perhaps this is the source of Kurloz's pivotal nightmare, which would've sprung out of nowhere, given LE doesn't exist until after the Scratch? We can only speculate, but this seems to me the most likely source of Lord English worship within the dancestors - Hope made him real.

And so, our Bard of Hope is faithless, and by extension, hopeless - in such a way that he breathes active calamity into existence.

Mituna Captor: Tried to Warn Them, but Nobody Wanted to Listen

I'm going to preface this section with a small list of what we will NOT be discussing, not because the conversations aren't important to have, but because they are not relevant to his essay. First of all, I will not be litigating the issue of whether or not Mituna's portrayal of TBIs/neurodivergence/etc. is problematic. I will also not be discussing the greater conversation surrounding those with such conditions to consent romantically or sexually. These are important topics to talk about, but they're just not in the scope of this essay (it's long enough as it is!).

As a break from form, I'm going to discuss his classpect first. This is because the implications of his classpect provide vital context for how we are meant to interpret and understand Mituna's arc.

Doom is the aspect presiding death, sleep, the future, and endings. It sits opposite Life, as Life's equal-and-opposite, which helps shed some light on Doom-specific qualities, as we have little exploration into Doom itself. Most notably, our three Life players are stubborn optimists, and our two Doom players are mutable pessimists. Sollux is literally introduced by changing his mind about being introduced, before changing his mind a second time, while Cronus notes that Mituna has a long-running schtick of being wildly offensive, and then pathetically contrite. Mituna is stated to have visions of the future even without being one of the two future-sighted classes (Mage and Seer), making some degree of prophetic insight a part of Doom.

I'm also firmly convinced that it's Doom, and not being a Captor, that makes both Sollux and Mituna dual-dreamers. Most non-Seer/non-Mage players' main interaction with prophecy will be the clouds of Skaia or the whispers of the Horrorterrors while they're asleep, and being a dual-dreamer gives Doom access to both, as well as an extra "death" to spare - which Sollux makes great use of, as he arrives to his session dead. Moreover, being a dual dreamer allowed Sollux to be "half-dead" in the afterlife, granting him the special ability to leave - and navigate - the dream bubbles. This influence over the realm of the dead is notable, so please put a pin in it.

Heirs, meanwhile, bear a character arc of defecting from decadence. They're born into positions of wealth and comfort relative to their societies - John enjoys an upper-middle class lifestyle, with a supportive and loving father, and Equius enjoys being high enough nobility not to worry about culling, but low enough not to bear any pressing responsibilities, and has a supportive and loving lusus. Mituna, similarly, was born to a supportive and caring bicyclopsdad (as opposed to Sollux's, who was a big terrible idiot), with an eventual fate of being culled for his powerful psionic brain.

Before anyone protests that culling on Beforus is still a form of oppression - it's "a position of wealth and comfort relative to their society." Ultimately, being a stuffy capitalist isn't exactly a great destiny, and being a noble on Alternia still means being subject to a horrific system of murdering and being murdered. In a similar vein, Mituna's inheritance is a wolf in sheep's clothing. In fact, this exact wolf-in-sheep's-clothing nature of inheritance factors into the Heir's arc.

Heirs are on a ticking clock. Their aspects are powerful, but they struggle to control them. After all, they're a passive class:

He is the Heir of Breath after all. It's a passive class, and he's a passive guy. An heir, literally speaking, is one who inherits stuff.

And passive classes work best when they're allowing their aspect to be used for others:

UU: the +/- distinction can mean many things, bUt coUld be qUite roUghly sUmmed Up in this way: active classes exploit their aspect to benefit themselves, while passive classes allow their aspect to benefit others.

We see this with John, who gains the incredible power to retcon the story, unsticking it from the alpha timeline, but doesn't know how to effect useful change without guidance from others. Even Equius's first chronological expression of Void is his mere presence providing a shield for Vriska from Doc Scratch's omniscience.

But because of their privileged upbringings, it's difficult for them to know how to help others, or even that they should. John is goofy and friendly, but doesn't seem to notice that Dave is being constantly abused, and doesn't question the horrific violence of troll culture when Vriska tells him about it (something which Hussie chastises him for in the book commentary), while Equius's blind spots are even more glaring, given his casteism and complete obliviousness regarding his own fetishes.

Thus, like wealthy inheritors in real life, an Heir that fails to interrogate the systemic injustices of the system they were born into becomes swallowed up by their inheritance, another brick in the wall, rendering their aspect out of reach. John's retcon powers, before he gains control over them, nearly take him out of the story entirely (Breath and its associations with freedom and independence), while Equius succumbs to his fetish for submission and allows Gamzee to strangle him to death (Void and its associations with vice and sexual pleasure - Hussie notes on multiple fronts that Equius could've escaped at any point just by flexing his neck muscles, but chose not to because horny).

While we don't have very much information about Mituna before his injury, the dancestors' failure is a foregone conclusion; therefore, we can conclude that Mituna's current state is a reflection of his failure as an Heir, and subsequently being "swallowing up" by Doom. Mituna's injury is, within the context of the story, therefore a bad thing that happened to him, and thus, it reflects poorly on every other player who not only didn't heal him, but never mentions ever trying to.

It's here that I want to point out something odd about the dancestors as a group. Isn't it strange that they retained many of their injuries even into death?

Injuries don't need to carry into the afterlife - here Tavros is with his legs fully intact. Even if you assume that characters who consider their injury to be part of their identity, like Terezi and her blindness, therefore get to keep their body in that state after death, Latula clearly has insecurities about her sense of smell, Meulin was so disheartened by her deafness that she broke up with Kurloz over it, and there's no way that Mituna is happy about the fact that he can hardly string together a coherent thought anymore.

But remember, Heirs are experts at leveraging their aspects on others' behalf, and Doom has influence and sway over death and the dead. And so, on that note, let's actually begin analyzing Mituna himself.

The primary description we have of Mituna before his injury is this:

The Heir of Doom was once a powerful psionic. He was gifted with vision twofold, and had strong prophetic insights wherever a 8leak future was concerned. He had much to say when it came to warning us a8out the path of doom and destruction we were all headed for, 8ut no one took him very seriously. 8ut one day he lost all those a8ilities when he 8adly overexerted himself. It's hard to get any specifics from him, 8ut indications are that he applied every last 8it of energy he had toward some great act of heroism, saving us all from some looming threat. Not only did his exertion permanently 8urn out his psychic a8ilities, 8ut it left him somewhat... er. Incoherent.

Doom players tend to stagnate and stay in place. Their mutability, ironically, means they have a tendency to go nowhere. However, their pessimism can cause them to become fixated on these nowheres - to become so certain of an unhappy ending that they can become energized by the notion, steamrolling over others, which can resemble Life's stubborn optimism. It seems this may have been what happened with Mituna - though it appears to be far and away aggravated by his injury, there's an implication when he's talking with Meenah and Cronus that he was already prone to being wildly offensive and aggressive even before it:

CRONUS: your vwhole bifurcated demeanor is such an act. half the time you are noxious and incomprehensible, and the other half you are mild and contrite? sure, "PAL." CRONUS: as if im not SO on to you. you only pretend to say youre sorry to get girls to like you more. sure seems like pyropes a sucker for the ruse. like im not familiar vwith THOSE tactics. vwho do you think vwrote the book on that??

MITUNA: 817H1CH WH4Y D0N7 Y0U 5H00V3 M0Y R4D 1NJURJY P4N3L 1N7H0 URR N457H7Y 53XXXU4L3 PR1V457 P4R7H 0RF P3R3RF3R3R4NC3 MEENAH: thank fuck you were never a major playa at least from my personal vantage over the course a this ridicu huge narrative  #way minor character yo MEENAH: probably woulda offed my shellf even schooner if i had to hear you talk much  #really too bad since you got the bestest fishiest name of anyone #38( MITUNA: ..,.,..,,...,..,.,. MITUNA: 50RRY

What's worse, remember how I said earlier that it's implied that all the major problems occurred before their reckoning (which was likely on a timeframe of weeks or months), and then they spent six years faffing around in their session besides? This means that Mituna was left injured for six years, and not a single time does anyone mention even attempting to heal him. Even if you subscribe to the idea that their Life player's class precluded her from healing people (and it doesn't; the Helmsman's lifespan is explicitly extended by the Condesce's powers), Aranea's powerset is explicitly geared toward healing injuries of the mind:

ARANEA: I can see every fault and fissure in your mind. My vision 8-fold sheds light on every injury you have ever suffered, whether emotional or physical. ARANEA: I can repair it all for you, Jake. JAKE: (Oh no...) ARANEA: I can heal your mind. JAKE: (Oh n-n-n-) ARANEA: I can heal your soul. JAKE: N-n-n-n-n-n-n-nooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

... So why doesn't she? Why doesn't anyone? Well, the implication is... that he was annoying! He was the only member of the team who was trying to tell them to stop being such assholes, or else they would be hurtling themselves face-first into a catastrophe, and this was such a bummer and so unpleasant to hear (likely not helped by his aggressive and offensive way of wording things) that his team actually prefers him injured. At least this way, he isn't constantly calling them out for the horrible shit that they do to each other on a regular basis. Doom players are commiserators, not a healers, and their power lies in their ability to empathize and relate, opposite Life's tendency to charge forward, not caring who they trample on the way. Mituna was never able to tap into these powers of empathy enough to get people to listen to him, and he paid for this with his injury - the version of him his teammates prefer, because now they can take advantage of him.

Cronus does so most obviously, with his unwanted advances that Mituna sits there and takes because he can't reason well enough to escape of his own volition, but I posit - and will stand by this claim - that Latula and Kurloz, his two romantic partners, are taking advantage of him, too. Kurloz is implied to be directly puppeting him the way he puppets Meulin, the source of the "rumor" Cronus heard that Mituna is "lucid" when he's around Kurloz - in fact, it's implied that Mituna's injury was directly caused by Kurloz, as part of his Prince meltdown, something we'll get into more when we discuss Kurloz. I believe this is why several of the dancestors retain major injuries into the afterlife - in a dark reflection of how an Heir is supposed to operate, Kurloz is using Mituna as a conduit to exert influence over the afterlife, rendering Doom and death an oppressive force rather than peaceful resting place. I think there's a reason that Meenah questions the fact that some people have stayed injured when talking to Mituna. It should be his area of expertise, after all!

Now, while we are sidestepping the greater discussion overall of the consent of those with TBIs, I want to state that Mituna specifically, post-injury, cannot be considered fully consenting.

Cronus says the quiet part out loud:

CRONUS: i really feel like youre one of the only people i can open up to about my feelings. i guess it really does help to confide in someone vwho basically lacks the ability to repeat vwhat you say vwith any clarity or coherence, or evwen understand vwhat you said in the first place.

And unfortunately, this is pretty true: Mituna is impaired to the point where he:

Can't answer yes or no to whether he's god tier, because he doesn't know/can't remember/doesn't fully seem to understand the question.

Can't seem to understand that Meenah's asking him to strip because she's trying to check if he has god tier wings, instead enthusiastically assuming that she's asking to have sex with him.

Forgets how to take his own shirt off.

Doesn't understand that Cronus is touching him as a prelude to sexual intentions, just that he doesn't like it.

As is often the case with TBIs, he does have glimpses of clarity, but - whether this portrayal is offensive or not - the clear indication to me is that, within the context of the comic, we should come away with the understanding that Mituna can barely register what's going on, can barely understand what others are trying to communicate to him, and can barely voice what few thoughts he is able to string together. And I think it would also be one thing if he was simply born this way, but again, this is the result of an injury that is portrayed as a terrible thing that happened to him, and his injured state is not a reflection of who he was, and what decisions he would've made, before it happened.

And thus the Heir of Doom has inherited Doom in the worst way, becoming Doom as a force of oppression, bereft of empathy, understanding, or peace.

Latula Pyrope: Insecure Poser, Derelict Duty

Latula is a rad gamer girl... not! This is an act, and she even admits that it's an act.

PORRIM: I just think yo+u sho+uld be yo+urself mo+re o+ften. We already kno+w yo+u are stro+ng and go+o+d at games and all that. Yo+u have no+thing to+ pro+ve. LATULA: y34h. your3 prob4bly r1ght. LATULA: 1ts k1nd of str3ssful som3t1m3s, k33p1ng 1t up! som3t1m3s 1 forg3t to put z33s on th3 3nd of words, 4nd 1 r34lly str3ss out 4bout 1t.  #sp3c14lly wh3n 1m off my m3ds

So what's Latula's actual deal? Well, we get a really good glimpse of it here:

LATULA: for most of th3 t1m3 w3 kn3w 34ch oth3r, 1 w4s 4ll l1k3, WHY SHOULD TH3R3 B3 TWO B4D4SS, 1N-YOUR-F4C3 GRLZ 1N TH3 GROUP??? LATULA: sort of ov3rk1ll, r1ght? MEENAH: mehhh  #u searious? LATULA: 1 w4s k1nd of v13w1ng you 4s 4 comp3t1tor, 1n l1k3 4 two grl RAD-OFF. 1 w4s w1nn1ng 1n my m1nd, of cours3. but s33, 1 h4d 1t 4ll wrong!!!! MEENAH: did you LATULA: Y3AH! s33, 1m th3 t34mz R4D GRL, wh3r34s YOUR3 th3 t34mz B4D GRL!!!! 1t 4ll m4k3s p3rf3ct s3ns3! do3snt th4t m4k3 SO MUCH S3NS3??? MEENAH: that MEENAH: is the stupidest glubbin thing to require any sorta rationalization i ever heard  #p lame tules LATULA: s33 p4ych3ck? 1 kn3w 1 could count on you to b3 just1f14bly cyn1c4l 4bout my n3urot1c bullsh1t. you RUL3!!!

Latula is another character we get little direct development of, so I'll head into classpect analysis early, as she's much easier to understand once we have the context of Knights and Mind players.

Mind governs logic, rationality, justice, karma, behaviors, and consequences. The justice and karma associations are explained as a Mindy Thing by Latula herself:

PORRIM: Did yo+u no+t kno+w that?  #Mindfang gave yo+u five #Then left yo+u hanging LATULA: n3v3r r34lly thought 4bout 1t. but now th4t you m3nt1on 1t, th4t outcom3 m4k3s 4ll sorts of s3ns3 to m3. PORRIM: It do+es? Ho+w? LATULA: just do3s, b4b3z. PORRIM: I do+n't really understand karma. LATULA: th4ts c4us3 your3 not 4 m1nd pl4y3r.

Mind players tend to be cunning and manipulative. As the aspect presiding over the "effect" of cause-and-effect, they're finely attuned to the various webs of actions and consequences, but not so much to the inner workings of emotions and identity, which are Heart's domain, Mind's equal-and-opposite. As such, Mind players have a tendency to deemphasize their own emotions, substituting systems of karma, justice, societal attitudes, etc. to make decisions instead. We see this in Terezi's primary character struggle, the way she painted herself into a corner where the only viable outcome was killing Vriska, which happened because she consistently prioritized what Vriska karmically deserved over her own desire to maintain their friendship. In the worst case, their own identity and sense of self can become so confused that they seek out unhealthy relationships with others, in an attempt to supplement their poor sense of personal identity with some sort of external validation - you can see this in Terezi's toxic relationship with Gamzee, or, indeed, with Latula's relationship with Mituna (more on this later).

Knights, meanwhile, struggle with great insecurity. Often provided a significant role by the forces of fate and prophecy, they suffer deeply from imposter syndrome and/or self-loathing, and to help them cope with these feelings, they effect a facade that distances them from their aspect. Karkat, whose aspect presides over bonds and relationships, insists he's a big bad leader who doesn't give a shit about other people, and this breakdown of Blood's bonds culminated in Murderstuck. Dave, whose aspect presides over minutiae, goal-orientedness, and struggle, pretends to be a disaffected cool guy. In the worst case, their insecurity can become so intense that they invest completely into their facades, laying down their weapons and refusing the call entirely. Dave, at the belly of his whale, declares that he won't fight LE, as he "doesn't even think he did anything directly bad to them" - despite Dave literally being haunted by LE for his entire childhood under the guise of Lil' Cal, a detail he'd normally notice, given how often he secretly pays attention (which is a Timey Thing).

Latula struggles greatly with her own personal identity, her anxiety surrounding not having anything unique or standout about her in her friend group. To cope with this, she projects a facade that practically screams its "personality" from the rooftops - she's a dumb but radical "gamer girl". In doing so, she distances herself from her actual aspect - gone are Mind's cunning and intellect, which even Porrim calls her out on:

PORRIM: Yo+u can pretend to+ misunderstand all yo+u want, but we've talked abo+ut this befo+re and I kno+w yo+u're smarter abo+ut this than yo+u let o+n.

But, crucially, it also distances her from Mind's ties with karma and justice. Latula states that, not only does she dislike Aranea, but she can also absolutely understand the chains of karma and destiny that would've led to Mindfang and Redglare having such a contentious relationship that it led to them killing each other.

What else is Latula aware of, that she's completely chosen to ignore, out of desperate fear that it wouldn't suit her image, would make her seem less "r4d"?

Well... let's talk about Mituna. As we've already covered in his section, his ability to consent to this relationship is dubious, and the fact that it's dubious at all is already not a great sign. But I also want to bring up a couple other things. Did you know that, throughout all of Mituna's dialogue - including when he's enthusiastically trying to strip to have sex with Meenah - he doesn't mention dating Latula even one time?

Other characters will bring it up, but Mituna himself doesn't say anything about it. And, again, given that he's enthusiastically ready to get nasty with Meenah... one wonders if he's even lucid enough to know that he and Latula are dating.

MEENAH: look take off your rad shirt deal and lemme see if you got wings MITUNA: 3H3HH3H7H37H37H3 YY35 MITUNA: 7H0NGH7 Y0DU N3V3R 45K MITUNA: 817HCH 4C4M3 4R0UN57 70 MY W1L135 MU7H4FUCK5!  #W1L135 #MUH #FUX MITUNA: W417 H3LUP  #!!!!!!!!!! MITUNA: H3LP H0W D01 74K3 0FF MY CL07H37H 4G41N?  #8( MEENAH: yeah keep your shirt on you made that exchange beyond awful

Hey, maybe he does. He does get sad when Cronus tells him that Latula's only dating him out of pity. But still, the fact that it's in question at all - and also the fact that he's totally up for cheating with Meenah - are bad signs!

But even putting that to the side for a second... what does Latula even see in him? He's constantly saying slurs, he's down to cheat at the first opportunity, he's questionably capable of stringing a coherent thought together... well, good news! It comes up in conversation.

MEENAH: mother glubber MEENAH: seriously didnt think T)(ATD last LATULA: 1dk, th3r3z w4y mor3 to h1m th4n. w3ll, 4ll th3 t3rr1bl3 4nd stup1d sh1t h3 s4ys 4ll th3 t1m3. LATULA: 4nd 1ts 4lw4yz f3lt l1k3 h3 n33ds m3 1f th4t m4k3s s3ns3, 3v3n 4ft3r dy1ng. so th3r3z th4t!!!!

So, let's actually break down what she's saying here.

She feels the need to insult him while she's trying to come up with something nice to say.

She can't actually name anything specific that she likes about him...

Except that he's dependent on her. She likes him because he can't reliably function away from her. Woof.

But I also want to turn your attention to the phrase "way more to him". What does she mean by this, exactly? Does she mean some of the traits he had before his injury? If so, how come it never comes up that Latula wanted to heal him, or tried to heal him? In fact, Aranea - who, again, has a powerset specifically suited for healing minds - comes up in conversation between Porrim and Latula, and Latula doesn't mention ANYTHING about Mituna. She's even on friendly terms with Aranea.

PORRIM: Like, as far as I kno+w, yo+u and Aranea always go+t alo+ng. Didn't yo+u?  #Radglare #Kindfang LATULA: 3h 1 gu3ss. n3v3r sp3nt much t1m3 th1nk1ng 4bout s3rk3t, tbh. LATULA: 4lw4ys thought sh3 w4s 4 s3lf 4bsorb3d snooz3, 1f you r34lly w4nt to know.  #zzzz #not 3v3n th3 r4d k1nd of z33s

The only other possible indication that they might secretly have a good relationship is that she threatens that if Damara touches Mituna, she'll kill Damara. Now, we'll have to save a lot of this for the Damara part of the essay, but I'll note here that Damara is perfectly pleasant and kind to people she doesn't have any personal beef with, with the example being the human kids. However, since the bulk of her team were complicit bystanders (and even Meenah's friends) in her horrific bullying, she obviously has great anger at all of them. However... if there's any exception to the bystander disease that plagued her team, it would've been Mituna, the only one trying to warn them they were headed for a terrible, bleak ending. Wouldn't he, out of everyone on the team, be someone Damara is fond of?

So, there are several options here... but they ALL make Latula look bad to varying degrees.

Damara really IS a threat to Mituna.

This still makes Latula a bystander in Damara's abuse, and a terrible hypocrite, as Kankri says one of the things he likes about her is her egalitarian, non-casteist demeanor, but she totally let a fuchsia bullying a burgundy slide, but I suppose it's the option that makes her look the least bad otherwise. Again, it seems unlikely, given the way Damara operates, but it's technically possible.

Damara is on friendly terms with Mituna, but Latula doesn't know this, and thinks she's protecting him.

This means she's still a bystander, as described above, but ALSO seems unlikely given we know Latula has Mind insight into webs of karma, and is a lot smarter than she lets on, which brings us to:

Damara is on friendly terms with Mituna, and Latula is keeping them apart deliberately.

Unfortunately, it's possible... she's dating Mituna at all, meaning she's already taking advantage of him. Ultimately, we can't say for sure what's going on there, but I don't think it's as fully innocent as it seems, especially when so much of the rest of her and Mituna's relationship is cast in such a worrying light.

Knights are tasked with leadership positions, and their failures to live up to them result in the breakdowns of their teams. Karkat's failure to manage his team's interpersonal relationships blew up into Murderstuck, Dave's refusal to keep working towards their goals means the bad guys win, and Latula's refusal to engage with the lattices of karma within her team, or deal directly with her own insecurities, means that none of these injustices ever get addressed. Even though Latula isn't a casteists, casteists are allowed to continue on being castests; even though Latula has insecurities about her own disability, those who take advantage of disabilities proliferate; even though Latula commands great respect and admiration from her team, she never comes down with the hammer - and passively allowing evil to exist is the same as picking evil's side.

And so our Knight of Mind is too busy pretending to be something she's not, cutting off her intellect, cunning and acumen, rendering justice a non-entity.

Aranea Serket: Enabled Too Close to the Sun

Aranea's another one of those characters that doesn't really directly seem to contribute to the team's problems as much, and ironically, because we have so much more of her available to peruse, there's a lot less that I need to say. It's pretty obvious what happened - she was always secretly pretty selfish and cruel, and ended up desiring the spotlight so hard that she went power-mad, challenged the Condy, and GAME OVER'd herself.

As a result, I'm instead going to do a classpect read on her, so we can better understand what she contributed to her team before her death. Which was mostly nothing good!

Light is, fittingly, one of the most well-explored aspects in the story. Governing the realm of knowledge, fortune, and vision, its players are erudite, learned, and guiding stars. Light players tend to love the spotlight, to be important, to be acknowledged - this is the crux of both Vriska's and Aranea's respective arcs, but Rose also has a flair for the dramatic, and writes her long-winded Gamespot guide as a form of one-upsmanship to the other extant guides. This desire for external validation, however, means that they're always playing to an imaginary crowd, and they don't deal very well with having that attention taken away from them. Light players are volatile and complicated, attention hogs and drama queens, and they deal poorly with embarrassment, shame, and failure.

But we already know about Light. Light players won't shut up about Light. Let's talk about something a bit more enigmatic: Sylphs.

Aranea presents Sylphs as healers and nurturers, but she's hardly an unbiased source. In fact, bias happens to be a common thread linking Sylphs, and their active counterpart, Witches, together. The struggle at the core of being a Sylph is that Sylphs are enablers.

"Enabler" is the single most consistent word Hussie uses to describe Kanaya, and I don't think it's just her Space aspect at play. Even Kanaya herself discusses how one of her major personal problems is a fascination, an attraction, with "dangerous" people. We see this exact tendency mirrored in Aranea, who has a fascination with her team's resident Thief, too.

In fact, one of the most notable things about Aranea's little expositional blurbs is the way she downplays the cruelty of her teammates, especially Meenah. Meenah's bullying was horrific, constant, and had major undertones of racism/casteism, and here's how Aranea describes it:

ARANEA: So you did your 8est to rile up the crew any way you could. Appealing to peoples insecurities, 8uried hostilities, 8rewing rivalries... needling anyone you could into confrontation with others. Your theory was that increasing everyone's state of aggression would make them 8etter equipped to play the game. And you were sort of right a8out that! 8ut the Alternians would prove it. Not our group, sadly. ARANEA: The poor girl who took the 8runt of your 8ullying tactics was Damara Megido. You talked up her matesprit's 8etrayal making her feel even more dreadful, while pushing him further into the arms of her rival, until she simply snapped. She attacked him, paralyzing him from the neck down. You finally got the aggressive confrontation you were looking for. Unfortunately, you unleashed something even you weren't prepared for, and you had to deal with her yourself. After a long 8loody duel, she killed you. And you would have stayed dead if not for me! ARANEA: You never listened to me. You just kept needling and fussing and meddling until eventually you paid the price, and I had to 8ail you out.

Let's notice where Aranea chooses to put the focus: not on the cruelty of the bully's actions, not on the horrific pain and suffering that Damara must've endured, but on how ARANEA had to save poor Meenah.

In fact, this shocking callousness is a constant fixture of Aranea's exposition. It mirrors Kanaya at her worst, as they both pick and choose their favorites in the team to lavish with kindness and attention, and treat others like objects of ridicule - Kanaya mocks Eridan to his face, and Aranea:

Mocks Latula's inability to smell.

ARANEA: She was truly an inspiration, and proved 8eyond a shadow of a dou8t that any handicap can 8e overcome, and doesn't have to stop you from 8eing as rad as you can truly 8e. MEENAH: wuuut MEENAH: serket are you whistlin through my blowhole with his idiotic shit ARANEA: Yes, that last part was a joke. Lighten up, Peixes!

Mocks Cronus's wizard faith (his one redeeming quality).

ARANEA: Whatever the case, it was pro8a8ly for the 8est, since pretty much everyone who had half a think pan thought it was all a 8unch of ridiculous nonsense. MEENAH: serket why do you got to hate on other peoples religions MEENAH: dont you kno they just as much a load of crackpotty bunk as all your spiritual bullfuck ARANEA: 8ut I........ ARANEA: Yes, I guess I was out of line. ARANEA: Sorry, I was just trying to riff with you little on a mutually disliked acquaintance. Is that really so 8ad? Why do you have to take every opportunity to knock my personal 8eliefs? ARANEA: You can really 8e so mean sometimes.

And says this incredibly out-of-pocket thing:

And says this incredibly out-of-pocket thing: ARANEA: It was almost a little eerie how happily she complied with our plan. What did Rufioh say she said? Something a8out how we would all finally get what we deserved... ARANEA: Which at the time, I thought sounded chilling. 8ut there's really two ways of looking at it. One is how the Scratch re8ooted our world into a state of pure chaos, culminating in the annihilation of our universe. 8ut on the other hand, we all got the chance to live out our wildest fantasies as adults on Alternia! ARANEA: At least you and I sure did. And I wouldn't dou8t she feels the same way.

Yeah, it sure was Damara's wildest fantasy to be abused by Doc Scratch to the point of making actual suicide attempts to escape him... and Kankri's wildest fantasy to be troll crucified, and all his friends' wildest fantasies to be hunted down for their association with him and turned into slaves, exiles, or worse... or Porrim's wildest fantasy to be raped by Mindfang.

But apparently that's part of Aranea's wildest fantasies, huh?

We also see from the Terezi situation - where Aranea first frames her abilities as "healing" and "nurturing," and makes an offer to heal Terezi's eyes as an attempt to help her "heal" from her emotional wounds - that Aranea has no idea what healing is at all. Rather, she helps people avoid (Void) what they're hurting from, what they should confront, grapple with, and accept, in order to truly move on. Knowing that Void is associated with sexual pleasure and vice, and that an Aspect often resembles its counterpart when its player is at their worst, what does this say about Actual Rapist Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, or the Jake-kissing Aranea?

Light players have an innate sense of the spotlight, and an understanding that, for it to shine on one person, it must necessarily be taken from another. Aranea enabled the two Thieves in her (after)life until they chummed up so much that they didn't give a shit about her anymore, at which point she decided to enable the one bastard she could count on - herself. And in attempting to hog that spotlight all by herself, she cosigned the entire timeline to obscurity.

And so our Sylph of Light leaves a legacy of cruelty, toxicity, suffering, pain, and oblivion, her light a poison, not a salve.

Kurloz Makara: Gave Up On "Better"

I do want to go through some Kurloz stuff before I launch into the classpect things, most notably that he's really utterly vile by the time we see him. Before his Prince meltdown, which we'll get to, perhaps there was something redeeming about him, but by the time we get to see him in the comic, he's lost any respectable qualities.

Kurloz is an adherent of the same religion as Gamzee, although, somehow, he carries even less hope than Gamzee does. Let's note the basic tenents of their faith:

You belong to a RATHER OBSCURE CULT, which foretells of a BAND OF ROWDY AND CAPRICIOUS MINSTRELS which will rise one day on a MYTHICAL PARADISE PLANET that does not exist yet.

Now, exploring this faith, and the way its interpretation changes throughout the comic, could be an essay of its own, but what's important to note here is that Kurloz will never see its fruition. He's dead, and neither has the ability to revive himself, nor the desire to do so. Thus, it follows that his personal interpretation of their faith must be darker than Gamzee's - Kurloz has so utterly given up on himself and his team that being cosigned to utter oblivion, destined to double-die by their godhead's rainbow breath, seems like a totally great outcome that Kurloz both wants and is working toward. The paradise planet doesn't actually matter to him - the act of betraying his friends, and getting everyone killed (and double-killed), seems reward enough.

KURLOZ: WE SHALL NOW BUST OPEN THESE BITCHIN ELIXIR FORTIES KURLOZ: AND POUR SOME SWEET SWILL OUT FOR THE SOULS WHO SOON WONT BE NO MORE  #:o)

To that end, he's willing to lie to his teammates, and use the two people closest to him - Mituna and Meulin - as literal slaves, furthering LE's goals and pushing for LE's existence, making him one of the most direct forces acting against the dancestors.

But, as I said earlier, he didn't start out this way - so how did he get to this point of utter clowny despair? Well, let's take a look at what it means to be a Prince of Rage.

Princes have a fairly simple arc to discuss, though actually dealing with a Prince is arduous and difficult. Princes are, in a very masculine way, driven by an anxious forward momentum, by feelings of duty, by a masculine need to appear strong and take on burdens. Dirk is the most anxious of his team about their fate to sit around and wait, and Eridan's entire character has been shaped by the duty he had to keep Feferi's lusus placated.

However, these driving forces tend to make Princes controlling, aggressive, volatile, and nasty, and it's difficult to even be near one, let alone help them deal with their emotional problems. Thus are princes on a marching path to self-destruction, overtaxing their engines, burning themselves out. And given that one's "self" is tied inextricably to their aspect, this means that they take their aspect with them.

Thus are Princes on a ticking timer, and left untreated, they'll suffer a spectacular meltdown, which removes from play themselves, their aspect, and whoever is unlucky enough to be in the same room. We see it with Murderstuck, where Eridan goes on a Hope-crushing murder spree, and we see it when Dirk's trickster tirade utterly shatters Jake's self-confidence and self-worth.

But before that meltdown occurs, Princes suffer from an overburdening of their aspect - Eridan is a hipster (Hope and conviction), and burdened by several layers of political beliefs and societally-imposed duties. Dirk is solipsistic (Heart and the self), and is burdened by self-loathing, amplified by all his splinters and Hal staring back at him.

Kurloz's aspect is Rage, one of the most enigmatic, but I'll do my best here. Hope is, after all, fairly well-defined - a transformative force that imposes a new reality onto the old. Rage, its equal and opposite, is similarly a force that defines reality - but it does so by striking things from the record (something both Gamzee and Kurloz are noted to do, the former removing references to himself from recountings of his team's story, the latter creating intricate labyrinths within the bubbles to hide their clowny conspiracy with). Rage encompasses anger, but also the emotions of fear and shame - transformative energies that are the core of great acts of revolution, but also volatile, and prone to great destructiveness. Rage players "tear down false truths" - meaning, they define reality by closing possibilities, crafting meaning from the past by the power of interpretation. Hope is fanfiction, and Rage is literary criticism. Hope pens in something new, and Rage strikes out what it deems unacceptible.

Kurloz, before his turn, is characterized primarily through a single major incident - having a dream so terrifying that he screamed loud enough to deafen his matesprit, and feeling so ashamed of himself (shame being a Rage-associated emotion) that he sewed his own mouth shut in penitance. Given the way Princes are overtaxed by their aspect, it's likely that this isn't the only great shame he was bearing.

He and Damara appear to be on secretly decent terms - she is, after all, a Lord English believer, and who else would she have gotten that religious leaning from? Moreover, Kurloz and Mituna were close, if not actively dating, and Mituna was the one member of the team who seemed to give a shit that they were hurtling themselves towards oblivion.

This means that Kurloz, in all likelihood, was actually on Damara's side, and aware that his team was being shitheads - but he never said anything, later because of his vow of silence, but earlier, because it was himself he was most ashamed of. It's unclear what the inciting incident of his final meltdown was, but given the far-reaching consequences when a Prince does have their meltdown, this is likely the "disaster" that Mituna was attempting to stop - a situation that echoes how Feferi, Eridan's ex-moirail, turning on him to kill him was what finally pushed Eridan over the edge into full-blown murder. Kurloz is likely both the disaster Mituna was trying to avert and the source of Mituna's injury; subsequently, his team was dealing with a post-meltdown Prince and the destruction of Rage.

As I mentioned before, Rage is a revolutionary force, a force of upheaval and change. It's likely that the Mituna injury happened fairly late in the game, concurrent to or shortly following Damara's rampage, because the lack of Rage is starkly present in the six years following the Reckoning, where the dancestors did fuckall. But there's one other place where the dancestors' lack of Rage is present: ever notice how they don't have a single blackrom?

We'll get more into that when we talk about Meulin, but for now, I'll just say that this is directly Kurloz's fault. No blackroms, no conflicts, no change... Kurloz's meltdown was allowed to happen with no one the wiser. Rage, at its nadir, begins to resemble Hope - it gains a steadfast, religious conviction to the belief that nothing matters and everything must be torn down. We see this in Kurloz, whose spiritual belief is, functionally, that all that he and everyone else deserves is utter oblivion.

And so our Prince of Rage can no longer be swayed, a force of religious inertia, directing all beings headlong into oblivion.

Meulin Leijon: Healthy Relationship? IDK Her

Meulin Leijon's ships are all rancid. Unfortunately, they also all come true. This makes Meulin one of the most direct and overwhelming contributors to the dancestors' extant emotional problems, and why every single one of their established romances is a dumpster fire (and, conversely, why none of the healthy ships hinted at - pale Latula/Porrim, for example - are never established).

But to explain that, we have to back up and explain how Mages work. But I'm a bit tired of typing, so I'll just let Terezi and Sollux explain it instead:

TA: 2o yeah. TA: we wiill all diie but mo2t e2peciially me, end of 2tory. GC: BUT GC: DONT T4K3 TH1S TH3 WRONG W4Y BUT HOW C4N YOU B3 TOT4LLY SUR3 4BOUT 4LL TH4T? GC: HOW DO YOU KNOW SOM3 OF TH3 R34L V1S1ONS YOUR3 H4V1NG 4R3NT G3TT1NG K1ND OF T4NGL3D UP W1TH UHHH GC: SORT OF TH3 W4Y YOU 4R3 4BOUT YOURS3LF TA: what do you mean. GC: HOW YOU G3T MOP3Y 4ND YOUR3 4LW4YS TH3 V1CT1M OF SOM3TH1NG 4ND HOW SOM3T1M3S YOU TH1NK YOU SUCK WH3N YOU R34LLY DONT GC: M4YB3 TH4T 1S CLOUD1NG YOUR V1S1ON?

Mages are the active counterpart to Seers, as they're both classes concerned with glimpsing the future. Sollux is most obviously a prophet, gifted with vision twofold and Doom's natural prophetic insight, and at first this doesn't seem to suit Meulin... until you realize that matchmaking is commonly considered a form of divination, and "matchmaker" is Meulin's signature profession.

However, unlike a Seer, who's privy to all the myriad branching paths the future can take, Mages seem to know which of these futures will definitely happen for sure. This seems to be contradictory - how can multiple branching paths and set-in-stone futures coexist, when the comic - and Hussie - explicitly tend to frame even the Alpha Timeline as a result of player choices, and not predestination?

But it makes sense if you turn it around - it's not that Mages are privy to a set-in-stone future... it's that the Mage powerset allows the Mage to set a future in stone. They aren't PREDICTING the future, they're PREDETERMINING it.

This is an incredibly powerful ability, and to balance it out, Mages start out sad, and this sadness and pessimism colors their visions and causes the futures they pick out to be shitty. Terezi directly calls out Sollux's chosen future for being a reflection of his self-loathing and victimization, but wait, isn't Meulin super cheerful?

No. Actually, she's fucking miserable.

HORUSS: 8=D < She's taught me to get in touch with my anger. Through a moderately discernible series of enthusiastic mimes, she has made it clear that it is much healthier to crush all negative emotions beneath a stampede of positivity, and to always be cheerful and upbeat no matter what, even if projecting that facade is at times physically painful. #Such as #All times.

Vriska also later makes mention of how Meulin seems to have a "fascin8tingly dark history", further driving home the point that Meulin's hyperactive, friendly demeanor is a front for some really deep sadness on her part.

Heart is the aspect of the soul and the self. Its players are preoccupied with identity, and naturally talented at sussing out motivations, emotions, intentions, and desires. Nepeta's ships are usually wrong, but she clocks romantic interest correctly - she's able to pick up on Gamzee's palecrush toward Karkat, and Tavros's something-something towards Dave. Dirk, too, has an arc defined by romantic interest, feelings that ultimately don't pan out.

Moreover, Heart players are very vulnerable and sincere, and can't really help it. Divesting Dirk from Hal (whom I'm personally convinced is both his own separate entity and not even a Heart player), Dirk is incredibly straightforward. His idea of manipulating Jane is to directly tell her he's manipulating her. Nepeta's sincerity probably doesn't even need to be said.

But the flipside of this sensitivity towards the emotions of others is that Heart players are often doormats. They tend to prioritize the desires of others - Nepeta being bent to Equius's whims, and Dirk's neediness towards Jake manifesting as some embarrasing "forget how I feel, tell me what YOU want" texts. Their vulnerability also makes them easily hurt, and they tend to retreat into themselves out of fear of pain - Dirk outright states that his aloof demeanor hides the feelings his team has been trampling, while Nepeta expresses that she's afraid to engage too much with others because she's scared they'll mock her for being silly and stupid.

Thus, Meulin's situationship with Kurloz is cast into a much more uncomfortable light - and it was already pretty damn uncomfortable. Being deafened clearly hurt her emotionally, to the point she formally broke up with him, but he is still basically dating her, practically holding her hostage between her natural doormat tendencies and the actual mind control he's using on her. Her relationship with Horuss isn't much better, given the breathtakingly awful way he speaks about her:

HORUSS: 8=D < E%actly. Whoof would have thought? If you a%ed me before we all died whether I would consider romantically pairing with a r*d*culous midb100d, let alone Ms. Leijon of all people, I'd probably have died regardless, due to laughter-induced asphy%iation.

Yikes. Yikes all around. Welcome to yikes town.

Thus, Meulin is miserable, and has never been within ten miles of a healthy relationship - is it any surprise, then, that the ships she sets up for all her friends are similarly ill-fated? Let's not forget, the one ship she's actively seen making is Meenah and Karkat - an adult and an actual child.

MEULIN: (=^-ω-^=) < NOW, BEFORE I WORK MY MAGIC, WE SHOULD GET ONE THING CLEAR. IS YOUR YEARNING RED OR BLACK? MEULIN: (=ＴωＴ=) < I AM ONLY ASKING TO BE ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, BUT METHINKS THERE IS BARELY ANY DOUBT ABOUT IT. SOMMMEONE IS WAXING SCARLET FOR A LOUD, YOUNGER KANKRI, HMMMMMMMMM?

And it's after this that Meenah develops an "increasingly manic obsession" with Karkat.

You got a CLAWSICKLE! You absolutely love this due to its nautical nature. Also, hoarding items such as this will nicely complement your increasingly manic obsession with Karkat.

This is the secret behind Meulin's abilities as a "miracle worker when it comes to match making". As a Mage of Heart, she's directly picking out futures in which certain characters develop feelings for others - and, as a result, every single existing romance within the dancestors is highly suspect.

But what's also suspect is the lack of certain romances, namely the blackroms. What's going on there? Well, as Meulin herself says:

MEULIN: ~(=^‥^)ノ < GENERALLY I STICK TO THE RED MATCHUPS WHILE HE ADVISES ON BLACK. HE'S 33RILY TALENTED AT PICKING BLACKROM PAIRS! PROBABLY EVEN BETTER THAN ME...

Like how he's exerting control over the state of their death by using Mituna as a puppet, Kurloz is exerting control over their relationships via Meulin, killing their rage - their ability to effect change and grow - at the source.

And so our Mage of Heart has had hers trampled over so many times that she's unable to conceive of a future where lovers are supportive and kind, not destructive and cruel.

Horuss Zahhak: Albatross with the Gravitational Pull of a Black Hole

Finally, we're getting to the biggest Mess of all: the Damara situation. Horuss is our starting point here, as he's the eye of the storm - while he's the least directly culpable for Damara's rampage, he's the inciting incident, as Pages often are.

Horuss's flaws are glaringly obvious - he's a virulent casteist, he's an affair partner, he feels no guilt for the harm he caused Damara, he's really only looking to satisfy his own sexual desires, and he's too bullheaded to listen when people tell him things he doesn't want to hear.

He actually spends quite a bit of time talking about his aspect, and the journey he took to "understand" it. That saves me some time.

HORUSS: 8=D < My path was similarly governed by my aspect. For the longest time, I felt as if I was a blank sheet of paper. Like I had to make myself out of nothing. HORUSS: 8=D < And so I began to listen closely to the void within myself and corral the various personal attributes I herd calling to me. [...] HORUSS: 8=D < And in following sweeps I would keep turning my mechanically augmented, acute equine ear back to the abyss within, and continue to discover more about myself. I would learn that I was more complicated than I ever imagined. [...] HORUSS: 8=D < The second is how if you are faced with any crisis of identity whatsoever, it's really important to do your best to manufacture esoteric features of your personality and believe in them very STRONGLY and tell people about those things as frequently as possible.

Again, we aren't going to get into the plurality of real life people, this isn't the essay for that. In the context of the comic, because the failure of the dancestors is a foregone conclusion, and because Horuss is especially vile and clearly not aspirational, what he is describing is, in fact, an abject failure of Void, and a failing of his character.

To get into it, let's break down what a Page of Void is, and what arc they're "supposed" to undertake.

Pages are defined by their limitless potential.

TT: Pages have a lot of untapped potential. TT: That's practically all there is to the class, actually. TT: But when they eventually find it, look out.

AA: y0u picked a t0ugh class tavr0s! AA: n0ne 0f the really useful c0mbat abilities c0me int0 play until y0u reach a very high level AA: but i supp0se it will be rewarding when y0u get there

They're magikarps - very strong at high levels, very weak at low ones. So weak, in fact, that they're defined by a lack of their aspect when they initially start the game. Tavros, the Page of Breath - Breath governing freedom and independence - is wheelchair-bound and under Vriska's thumb. Jake, the Page of Hope - Hope dealing in conviction and belief - is constantly called "wishy-washy," and has absolutely zero standards when it comes to his taste in media (contrast Eridan, who's functioning with too much Hope as per his Prince class, who's a hipster that castigates Kanaya for liking Troll Twilight).

And Void is simplicity - its two other heroes, much more representative of the aspect, embody this well. They are what they are, they like what they like. Roxy loves wizards and, as mom, loves her daughter; Equius loves horses and archery and being STRONG. Void is also associated with sexual pleasure, vice, and taboo, with Roxy's "sauciness" being something characters often comment on and her alcoholism being so foundational to her character, while you can't talk about Equius without talking about his BDSM fetish.

In fact, we can see this interplay between Void's simplicity against Light's penchant for complexity in the introduction of Rose's mother. Rose has concocted in her mind a grand, elaborate narrative where her and her mother are locked in a deady contest of one-upsmanship, that her mother's various gifts and wizards are part of some sort of ironic or passive-aggressive mind game. The truth is, Momlonde just loves wizards and dotes on her daughter. No mind games whatsoever.

So when Horuss talks about how "complicated" he's decided he is, this is a Page's penchant for regression, for aspect deficit. Horuss refuses to be honest with himself, to deal with his actual emotions of frustration, anger, and emptiness, and instead turns to complication to try to explain them. He complexifies everything he gets involved with - his affair with Rufioh is clearly a symptom of some fetish he has for dating down the hemospectrum, but he refuses to admit to it, instead claiming at first that it was simply a "fleeting dalliance" or "exploration," and then claiming it to be true love.

The one Void trait he does seem to have in excess, however, is its tendency to get so caught up in its own personal pleasures and desires that it becomes pushy to others, drowning them out, resembling Light's spotlight hogging. Equius did this to Nepeta, and Roxy would attempt it with Dirk sometimes, aggressively flirting with him despite his homosexuality. Horuss simply talks over Rufioh, not listening to a thing he says.

Also, another point to how interwoven everyone's issues are, Kankri shows up to enable Horuss and tell him to keep being complicated. Also, Kankri doesn't comment AT ALL on Horuss's constant use of slurs and casteist language. So thanks again Kankri. For nothing.

The problem with Pages is that their failures aren't contained to themselves - their weakness becomes like a black hole, an albatross about the party's neck, and they're often right at the center of major catastrophes - maybe not the direct cause, but often an inciting incident. Tavros was ultimately at the center of the Team Charge debacle, and the Jakestakes tore apart his entire team.

HORUSS: 8=D < It was only to be a very private, fleeting dalliance with a BUOY, but the whole thing became so quickly scandalized.  #A spur of the moment affair, really. HORUSS: 8=D < And soon others were whisked into it such as you and the vengeful rust b100d, and... well, imagine my embarrassment. Trust me, the last thing I wanted was for royalty such as yourself to know I was pursuing forbidden b100d. To be caught with my hoof in the chocolate jar, so to nicker.

And so our Page of Void, by dint of the complicated web he's woven about himself, has ensnared others in his orbit of total irrelevance and inability to move forward.

Rufioh Nitram: Desperately Escaping Responsibility

Let me speak for everyone when I say, "Rufioh, you cheating piece of shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Rufioh, too, has his failures on brazen display. He's weak-willed and spineless, has been trying and failing to break up with Horuss for eons, and cheated on his girlfriend, but has the nerve to ask her for romantic advice.

However, what I want to really focus down on is that the specific flavor of his spinelessness is a refusal to take responsibility. He constantly claims that he "doesn't know" why Damara got more and more upset at him:

RUFIOH: and for some reason... st1ll don't know why... damara just started go1ng a l1ttle more nuts every day... gett1ng more and more jealous when she knew we were hang1ng out...

But clearly this isn't true, because he tells her to get over it.

RUFIOH: d*mn... so cold, g1rl. why can't you let the past go?

He also constantly calls her "crazy" and "jealous," framing the story as though she's the one who went totally nuts, and washing his hands of his involvement.

Remember how I mentioned that Blood tends to be overly responsible? All the way up there, when I was talking about Kankri. Well, meet Blood's counterpart. Breath is, at its best, a force of freedom and liberation - look no further than the Summoner, Rufioh's Alternian counterpart. But at its worst, it tends to be callous and immature, youthful but irresponsible. Rufioh does everything he can to avoid having to take responsibility, whether that's wilting from breaking up with Horuss, avoiding culpability for hurting his feelings, or downplaying what he did to Damara.

This youthfulness is the source of their charm, and all three Breath players share it - John loves his dumb cheesy movies well into his teens, Tavros loves Pupa Pan and Fiduspawn, and Rufioh loves kiddie anime. It's not harmful in and of itself that they like childish things, but it often goes hand-in-hand with a refusal to grow up.

Ironically, they can become so avoidant of responsibility that they wind up trapped, like Tavros was with Vriska, or Rufioh is with Horuss. If you never acknowledge that there is a problem, you can never begin to fix it. But where does being a Rogue come in?

Well, Rogues are natural-born rebels. Nepeta is the only Alternian troll to outright say that the hemocaste is stupid and casteism shouldn't exist:

AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn't matter! AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!

And Roxy is the most motivated in her friend group to stick it to the Batterwitch. The problem is, while they have unrest and rebellion deep in their souls, they're often at a loss as to how to address it, make it more than just a thought. This leads to them rebelling for the sake of rebelling, breaking taboos and defying commands. Nepeta refusing to listen to Equius telling her to hide and stay put directly leads to her death, and even Roxy nearly blew Jane up with a fake SBURB application in a misguided attempt to defy the Condesce.

And Rufioh? Well, Rufioh cheated. Hard as he could. For a long, long time. Started before he entered the session. Spent the whole time gaslighting Damara and calling her crazy and jealous. After all, if he actually came out and said that he wasn't happy with her and wanted out of the relationship, she'd be upset with him, and he'd have to be responsible for that. Can't have that!

And so our Rogue of Breath has been trapped in bondage, having gone willingly in chains, because the alternative - freedom and responsibility - were too difficult for him.

Damara Megido: Babe I'm So Sorry, You Didn't Deserve That

So I'm going to address a pretty common fandom take, by first divulging some personal information. I'm Chinese diaspora; my parents were both immigrants. Obviously, I can't speak for every Chinese person, and especially not every Asian, but at least from my perspective, Damara isn't racist. She's just actual representation.

Yes, Damara plays into several stereotypes, most notably the oversexed Asian schoolgirl - but that's part of the greater point that the comic is trying to make. Hussie has a long habit of putting the reader in the shoes of the characters who are wrong in a situation - for example, having the reader mock Eridan together with Rose, Kanaya, Jade, and Gamzee, or indeed, having the reader sympathize with Meenah Peixes, and hear the story from the point of view of Meenahs' biggest enabler.

Damara's google-translate quirk makes her text difficult to understand, to the point a lot of people won't even bother figuring out what she's saying, and her design makes her seem like a flat stereotype, because this is how her team sees her. And as I have extensively covered in this essay thus far, Damara's team were unbelievable assholes for doing so.

Let's look at her situation objectively for a second, and you'll see what I mean. Damara grew up with the Lost Weeaboos - she was already there when Rufioh ran into her, after he joined up after his wings came in. Yeah, Damara was the original Lost Weeaboo, not him. She was an immigrant from East Beforus, and couldn't speak English, and was seemingly only included in the friend group so long as Rufioh was translating for her - something he doesn't do when he deems it would cause problems (for him).

RUFIOH: 1f people knew some of the sh*t you sa1d... how you say crazy sh*t l1ke you want to serve h1m... f***! RUFIOH: 1t wouldn't be cool... people would fl1p... RUFIOH: h*ll, d1dn't you hear meenah was try1ng to ra1se an army to k1ll h1m? RUFIOH: 1f she could hear some of the th1ngs you told me... sh*t... 1 can't ever let her f1nd out... RUFIOH: 1f she knew, you'd both start f1ght1ng aga1n...  #}:(

Not to mention, she's a burgundy, the bottom of the hemocaste, and implied to be pretty poor, too, given... she was living in the woods with the Lost Weeaboos.

Before the game even starts, Horuss starts visiting Rufioh in the woods, something that starts as an emotional affair, but quickly becomes more than that. Damara catches on pretty quickly, becoming more and more jealous and angry with him as the affair continues, but Rufioh gaslights her and lies to her about it until Meenah discovers the affair and blows it out into the open. Damara breaks up with Rufioh, but Meenah continues to use the affair to mock and degrade her.

ARANEA: The poor girl who took the 8runt of your 8ullying tactics was Damara Megido. You talked up her matesprit's 8etrayal making her feel even more dreadful, while pushing him further into the arms of her rival, until she simply snapped.

Can you even fucking imagine? Damara has nobody else to turn to. Not only are half the people on the team Meenah's friends, not only is Meenah the rich and powerful fuchsia-blooded heiress, while Damara's a poor, immigrant rustblood, but no one on the team besides her ex - who is running around slandering her for being "crazy" and "jealous" - can even be assed to learn her language. She can't defend herself, and even if she tried, nobody would listen. To them, Damara's just a flat stereotype - the meek and docile Asian waifu who speaks engrish and puts chopsticks in her hair.

This is like... actually just what a lot of poor immigrants, not even necessarily Asian ones, have to go through. Damara's struggles are incredibly relevant, and her reaction is very realistic, too. She snaps and decides that she hates everyone and outright wishes for their demise and double-demise. In this context, her hypersexual language is a form of reclaiming power - nobody cared about what she had to say, so now she doesn't care what they have to listen to. It's one of the only petty vengeances left to her, and notably, she doesn't do it towards people she doesn't have beef with - the human kids - and the fact that Rufioh can speak her language at all is why she's still willing to go so far as to call him a friend, even after all the horrible shit he did to her.

RUFIOH: um... you can keep a secret, r1ght? DAMARA: はい、もちろん。私はあなたの友達です。[Yes, of course. I am your friend.]

And death hasn't made anything let up for her. She tells Meenah to go double-fuck herself, and Meenah assumes that they're totally cool now, even though Meenah didn't even so much as say "sorry".

DAMARA: あなたのデュアルフォークを取る。二回自分自身をファック。 [Take your dual fork. Fuck yourself twice.] [...] DAMARA: 私は何も後悔はありません。[I do not regret anything.] MEENAH: apology accepted

Sorry for getting heated, but what happened to Damara - and the fact that the fandom often sides with her bullies in calling her a flat stereotype - is very near and dear to me. The Damara situation casts a pall across the entire rest of the dancestors. Despite how cruel the circumstances were, how objectively unjust they were, how obviously Meenah was the aggressor and Damara was a victim, how clearly delineated good and evil were in her situation, and how big of a problem this became, nobody intervened, nobody tried to stop it, nobody stood up for her. Every single member of the team is an irredeemable asshole by this simple fact alone, except maybe Mituna, and even then, that's a maybe and nothing more. All of them are complicit in abuse, complicit in oppression, and complicit in bullying - if not worse.

Witches are creatures of emotion. They grow up as "outsiders" to society, and as such, are very easy to sway - as they lack societal senses of right and wrong, good or evil, they tend to rely on their own emotions to navigate the world instead. This also means it's very easy to flatter the Witch into believing in something cruel. Feferi loves casteism because being a princess is awesome, and she loves feeling like she's better than other people. Jade constantly allows shitty boys to trample all over her, and the trolls consider her most culpable for Bec Noir's creation because she blindly follows the prophecies of her beloved future-telling clouds, taking direct action to doom them all.

Damara's still friends with Rufioh because he bothers to speak her language at all, even though he does nothing but gaslight her, badmouth her, and use her to his own convenience. She follows the teachings of Lord English because her feelings have been hurt to the point where oblivion sounds like a great idea.

Time is about persistence, goal-orientedness, details, and minutiae. However, its players can often become so tunnel-visioned, so frustrated, that they become destructive forces of anger and rage. In the worst case, this destructive frustration causes them to become overwhelmed with a sense of futility, something that superficially resembles Space's big-picture thinking, or its tendency for passivity. Time has ties to entropy and death, and unfortunately, Damara has come to embody that for her team.

But, most crucially, Witches cause change.

The dancestors' session is victim to a glitch that ultimately renders it unwinnable - they didn't perform their own ectobiology. Such glitches are described as the "calling cards" of Lord English, his way of reserving a universe to destroy. But, as discussed above, LE did not actually exist until the dancestors brought him into their session by scratching it.

It's stated that, after her initial rampage, Damara began performing acts of "timeline sa8otage" up and down their timeline. I believe that it's during this time that she wound up causing the ectobiology glitch - retroactively rendering their system unwinnable, forcing them into the Scratch. After all, Damara knew what would result from the Scratch - Kurloz had inducted her into his religion by that point, and she was heard muttering that the Scratch would deliver them all "what they deserve".

And so, our Witch of Time was tempted by the forces of evil, and ultimately led them down the path of destruction, closing down all options until they had no choice but to Scratch, and - of course - though the dancestors had one last chance to back out, choose the selfless option, and let no more harm come of their actions - they picked the selfish option, and passed their problems onto the next generation.

Meenah Peixes: Ultra-Bitch

Meenah is her team's leader, and she represents the worst aspects of her team - the casual cruelty, the lack of responsibility, the kid-kissing, the failure to grow up. In a way, there's no leader more fitting.

The greatest thing she contributed to her team was her ruthless bullying, which didn't do anything but make everyone feel worse about themselves. Of this bullying, Meenah's favorite target was Damara, but we already covered all that in Damara's section. I want to talk about some of Meenah's other failings here, because I think the comic did such a good job of unreliably narrating her escapades that even many in the fandom seem to think she's a much better person than she is.

In truth, Meenah is a toxic friend, a bad influence, and her "cool"ness serves as a smokescreen to cover the depravity and cruelty of her actions. She is consistently running away from responsibility, consistently taking advantage of weaker-willed individuals, consistently constructing a narrative around herself where her actions were justified and anyone who disagrees with her is just a lame loser. In reality, she's just a rich bitch mean girl. A bog-standard bully. Someone who thinks literal children are pursuable romantic targets. You can't lose sight of this.

MEENAH: i dont verbally torture my cray schemes like all the serket girls MEENAH: and that works ok for me MEENAH: guess i made some mistakes but who really gives a flip [...] MEENAH: i just MEENAH: did shit MEENAH: and the shit i did MEENAH: meant only the things the shit accomplished MEENAH: and if that shit accomplished a dumb thing that sucked MEENAH: then i guess thats what you call a mistake and oh fuckin well

Sure, Meenah. Your deliberate, constant, unrelenting bullying, the active choices you made over, and over, and over again, are completely excusable by just saying "they were some mistakes" and "oh well".

Meenah ran away from responsibility four times over the course of her story: the first time was running off to the moon because she didn't want to be heiress; the second was blowing up her home planet rather than dealing with succession; the third was cooping herself up in her moon palace until a bigger threat presented itself, and the fourth was encouraging Vriska to give up on struggling against Lord English and run away with her and the LE-killing treasure. Not only that, but she tries to convince Karkat to jump off the meteor with her to fight LE - something that's framed in that conversation as a literal act of suicide, as LE is still, as far as Karkat and Meenah know, invincible, immortal, and unbeatable.

Speaking of her conversation with Karkat, let's zoom out for a second and take it in objectively. I think many are tricked by Karkat's softness and vulnerability here into thinking that the conversation they have together is cute or wholesome, but that isn't the case. First of all, let's remember that Meulin has just implied that Meenah's got some romantic feelings for what is - again - an actual child (I think he's literally 14 here). So. Yeah. And then second, let's remember what Karkat's arc is.

Karkat is a mutant, and has lived his life alternately in fear that he'll be killed if anyone ever finds out, and filled with self-loathing, since he knows it means he'll never be accepted by society. Moreover, he's aware of the prophecy that he's supposed to be Troll Jesus's second coming, and he's deeply insecure about it.

MY BLOOD IS NOT FIT TO FLOW THROUGH A SEWER, AND MY SIGN IS A PICTOGRAPHIC SYMBOL THAT LOOSELY TRANSLATES AS "PLEASE HIKE THESE PANTS UP TO THIS GUY'S ARMPITS, CHAIN HIM TO A FLOGGING JUT, AND MAKE A FUCKING EXAMPLE OUT OF THIS SORRY SACK OF SHIT." WHEN I LOOK IN A MIRROR, MY REFLECTION SLOWLY SHAKES HIS HEAD WHILE I WET MYSELF IN SHAME.

The fact that he knows that his ancestor is the Signless puts his initial desire to join the Threshecutioners in a very sad light. As he tells Meenah, he harbored fantasies that he would fight so well that they'd let him join, in spite of his blood color, even knowing objectively that they'd probably just kill him on sight.

KARKAT: THEY WERE LIKE THE DEADLIEST SQUAD OF INTERSTELLAR FIGHTERS UNDER THE COMMAND OF THE EMPRESS. THEY HELPED CONQUER MORE PLANETS THAN ANY OTHER IMPERIAL FORCE. BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO MAKE THE CUT, BECAUSE OF MY BLOOD. SO I USED TO THINK OF ALL THESE ELABORATE SCENARIOS TO HIDE MY BLOOD COLOR. OR IN THE MORE RIDICULOUS FANTASIES, MAYBE I COULD EVEN PROVE MY WORTH AS A SOLDIER? LIKE JUST BE SO AWESOME WITH A SICKLE, THEY WOULD JUST HAVE TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION. MAYBE EVEN BE LIKE A FOLK HERO AND RISE THROUGH THE RANKS TO BECOME THE LEADER. HAHA.

He desires, so so so deeply, to be accepted. He hates himself - this is the first thing revealed to us in his introduction.

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS. As was previously mentioned, it is your WRIGGLING DAY, which is barely even worth mentioning. It is an anniversary, if anything, to lament the faults of your existence, of which there are assuredly plenty.

As a result, he's equated societal acceptance with self-worth - tricked himself into believing that if he can gain the approval of society, the approval of the Condesce, then he'll finally be able to feel less like a worthless, kill-on-sight miscreant.

This is the lens we must look through his conversations with Meenah through. These are not soft, tender exchanges where Meenah helps Karkat deal with his emotional issues. This is the young adult version of the Condesce trying to tempt a literal child into suicide, leveraging his desire to be accepted by her in order to stroke her own ego. When he says Alternia was great, that's a bad thing. Alternia sucked, and it sucked to him specifically, but he wants to be accepted by it so badly that he's willing to act like it was awesome. When he says he respects the Condesce, that's terrible. She's an evil monster who directly caused all his and his friend's problems, a monstrous, genocidal dictator who revels in bloodshed and misery. And when he says:

KARKAT: OH, BUT ON ONE CONDITION. AS THE NEW EMPRESS, YOU HAVE TO APPOINT ME AS GRAND THRESHECUTIONER OF YOUR ARMY. DO WE HAVE A DEAL? MEENAH: oh yes yes you got it yessss

This is sad, actually. This is just really sad. Karkat wants to be accepted so, so badly that he's willing to jump off the meteor on a suicide mission. He wants it so bad that he's willing to lie down and let the forces of fascism, oppression, cruelty, and evil win, just for a crumb of validation.

And, yeah, it's romantic to Meenah. Just to be clear with everyone.

MEENAH: i was standin around in shoutkats place when it all dream switched on me outta nowhere [...] MEENAH: and i think MEENAH: we might be goin on a date later?

Hey, remember how she's 19 and he's fourteen fucking years old?

So, yeah, later on, when she starts having little giggly fits with Vriska, rolling around in the fields with her? When she starts grooming Vriska to dress like her, get tattoos with her nautical themes? Yes, I'm going to use the word "grooming". That's what it is.

Vriska is a vulnerable child. She was raised by an abusive, demanding, narcissistic spider, and all her friends just abandoned her because of her resultant nasty personality. And remember how I pointed out that Meenah likes to run away from responsibility?

VRISKA: What if we just........ VRISKA: Gave up on the mission? MEENAH: gave up VRISKA: Yeah. VRISKA: What do you think. MEENAH: um MEENAH: sure VRISKA: Sure? VRISKA: You don't think that would 8e a wussy move? MEENAH: well yeah MEENAH: it would be MEENAH: if a couple of cowards did it MEENAH: but that aint us MEENAH: so we cool to do whatev VRISKA: That's a very good point. MEENAH: nofin wrong with stickin a fork in a shit idea that just makes you miserable MEENAH: hell the best choice i ever made involved givin up MEENAH: one day i said MEENAH: fuck da throne MEENAH: ran off to the moon MEENAH: thats how this whole crazy mess kicked off MEENAH: and if i didnt do that MEENAH: i wouldnt of met you 38) VRISKA: VRISKA: ::::)

I hope this conversation hits a little different.

Thieves are, as the name suggests, selfish and greedy - they harbor some deep emotional hole that they attempt to fill with "wealth". For Vriska, it was narrative importance, and for Meenah, it was forward motion, as that's what Life's all about. However, they do so at the expense of others, not realizing that harming their own group relations harms their own ability to self-actualize and attain true happiness. The one time something nice happened on Meenah's team, it was when Meenah wasn't taking, taking, taking, but when she baked a cake for everyone.

But Meenah wasn't content with that.

And so, our Thief of Life defeated her own agenda in an effort to move forward, her mistakes culminating in the doom of herself and all her friends, as her misguided grasping toward forward motion ultimately led to the ugly side of a tumor-bomb.

Final Thoughts

I know I've been really negative towards the dancestors for this entire essay. And I do think they deserve it. However, please don't confuse that with me saying I think they were "bad characters," or that I dislike their inclusion in the comic.

On the contrary, I think they're all very, very good characters. Their utilization in the narrative is excellent, and they perform their narrative function incredibly well. I think Hussie's a fantastic writer, and I find the dancestors fascinating - if you couldn't tell from the massive essay.

But they are shitty people - and that's the point. The role they serve to the kids is as evil mentors, bad influences, dark reflections. Maybe they were redeemable before they ruined everything, but they passed the point of no return. At every juncture, they chose the selfish option, the cruel option, the easy option, and in some ways subtle, some ways overt, they encourage their kids to do the same.

But - crucially - the ones to come after them can choose differently. And I believe in the version of Homestuck where they do.

Thanks for reading.

[revelboo]

i don't really send in asks often because im much more of a lurker than an interactor, but i think its important that you know how much your work is appreciated. like im reading Everything you put out just because your work is that good and im engaged with characters i barely even Know. you've made me love characters i didn't even give a second glance to. ALSO THE MINI FIGURES. you make me crave them so bad. Everything Is Alright tugs so badly at my heart and i Eagerly await every time you update that one, it's so good and so long and definitely worthy if reread after reread

Thank you! I have a lot of fun writing these stories!

Everything Is Alright Pt 134

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “You realize Starscream is likely to take you sparking our mate without warning poorly,” Megatron adds and Soundwave vents softly. Watching as Soundwave shifts over you and slides a hand under your middle to make you whimper a sleepy protest at being moved. Hates that the soft noise lifts through him. That he likes it. And then Soundwave is mass shifting back, head sagging forward as his hands tremble faintly cupping you. Needing energon. Your head sleepily lifts before you spot him and then just groan, pressing your face against Soundwave’s palm. ‘Always when I’m naked,’ you mutter. Laughing softly, Megatron ignores that you’re not happy to see him. Pretends that it doesn’t bother him. That even though this is his habsuite, he feels like the intruder as Soundwave fixes his plating to hide away his spike and Megatron reaches to nudge your head until you shoot him a sullen look.

• Swallowing a growl and surprised that he even has the urge to growl at Megatron, Soundwave doesn’t pull you away from Megatron’s reach as the warlord smirks at your attempts to slap at his servo. Lazily toying with you. And he knows the Seeker is likely to throw a tantrum as soon as he finds out, but he can’t even bring himself to care if he upsets Starscream after what the mech had done to him and you both. “What happened to not molesting me?” You ask, smacking Megatron when he uses a servo to roll you onto your back. Growling softly, Soundwave moves you away from the warlord and Megatron shoots him a knowing look, but relents.

• Scowling and desperately wanting a shower, you try to draw your legs up against yourself so everything isn’t just on display even if you can feel Soundwave’s slick between your thighs, too used to all three of them not caring about embarrassing you to even muster the energy to care yourself. Much anyway. And eventually, Megatron is probably going to want more than spark bonding from you. “I wonder which of you is going to tell Starscream you’re sparked. Or will you just let him figure it out on his own?” Megatron asks, grinning wickedly like your misery is the funniest thing ever. Sparked? That’s right. Paling, you remember Soundwave asking and you’d pretty much begged him to. Was that what that coaxing feeling was after you fully bonded with him? Star had done something like that when he’d sparked you now that you’re thinking of it. There had been a sense of a question there like when they’d bonded you fully. Like there was a choice before that coaxing pull. Both times you’d given in to that request without a thought. Why can’t any of them ask important things when you’re not a needy mess during sex? “Of course, I could tell him,” Megatron adds. Enjoying this far too much.

• “Don’t you dare,” you hiss, little face reddening and Megatron chuckles. Ferocious little thing even though you have no way to back up the unspoken threat in your voice. And that anger of yours sparks through him. Goes straight to his spike in a flush of need. Reminding him that even though he’s fully bonded to you and carrying your new spark, he’s yet to physically claim you. Smile faltering at that, he clears his vents in a loud huff. “You blurt it out to him and I’ll never forgive you.” Chin lifting, you glare at him and he can’t understand what it is about you that makes your pitiful little threat actually matter to him.

• Star. Not looking forward to his reaction to finding out you’re fully bonded and sparked again, even though he seemed resigned to it happening. It still feels like a betrayal. Shoulders hunching, you look pleadingly up at Soundwave. Because you have to be the one to tell him. Gently. “I need a shower. And I’d kill for coffee,” you whine, not about to have this conversation with Star while Soundwave’s excess trails down your thighs. Head tipping at you, Soundwave just stares, but it’s not like he has a clue what coffee even is. ‘The shower part I can help with,’ Megatron says, gesturing toward his desk and you register the plastic draped shape tucked in a corner there. ‘The Constructicons had a few ideas.’ Watching him curiously as he gets up and reaches to tug the plastic away, you just stare. It’s a dollhouse. A human sized dollhouse. “There’s a working shower?” Because nothing else matters beyond a shower and some semblance of privacy. “I could kiss you,” you add and he hesitates like you’d just said something weird. Offended him somehow. Aliens.

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