#WHY DO THEY LOOK LIKE PROBLEM SLEUTH

[taxonomyterror]

gerald the freelance uncurser

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[kociakarma]

Hiii I really love your art and was wondering if you wouldnt mind showing what kind of brushes you use for your recent drawings thank you so much and i look forward to your future arts!

Of course! I've answered this a few times before but have never really tagged it properly, and I also realised that I've never actually explained what I use each brush for so I'll do that now!:

I'm gonna go through each of these brushes in order (and if i remember correctly, I'll link the top two since they arent default CSP brushes). (NOTE: almost all of these brushes have anti-aliasing turned off so that it can look more crispy and pixely!!! there is one exception to this that I will get into)

For this brush, I exclusively use it for sketching, it's advertised for inking digital manga panels, but with how the pen pressure is I feel like it adds form to my sketches

This brush, Sleuth-y Pen, is what I use mostly for MSPFA panels, mostly for lining, but sometimes for sketching too if I'm having a hard time with my usual sketching pen. It's really good if you want to replicate the homestuck style, and good for broad strokes on smaller canvases. The only issue is that the brush isn't great for that style if you use it on a larger canvas (ideally you would want 650 x 450) and can be especially messy if you're trying to get smaller details, such as open mouths, and certain facial details. I use another brush for that, which I will get into soon.

My second use for the sleuthy pen is for lineart on larger canvases in my usual artstyle! It has a texture to it that I like, as I like having my art appear a little rough around the edges, and the issue regarding small details isn't nearly as prominent of a problem

Almost done! Now we have the G-pen, a default CSP brush! This used to be one of my top 2 pens, along with its counterpart "Real G-pen" but nowadays I use it for two things: clean-up during rendering (usually getting those smaller details done that the sleuthy pen has difficulty with) and for doing SOME MSPFA panels (Vast Error, for example)

As you can see here, Liaaam's face is a little smoother than the rest of him, that's because I use the G-pen for those details, to keep things a lot cleaner! As for my other use, Vast Error's style from my understanding is a lot more "smooth" and "clean" which is why I exclusively use the G-pen for it, you can also make a lot of thick, juicy brush strokes with it which I feel works really well for the hair and folds in the clothes!

Finally, the Real G-pen, another default. This one is very similar to the last, its only differences are that it's slightly sharper and ever so slightly more messy. It's almost like a medium between the sleuth-y pen, and the g-pen.

I'll be honest, I don't use this pen much anymore, BUT, I still consistently use it for one thing and one thing only: Friendsim sprites. If you want to make friendsim sprites I highly suggest this pen, and making sure it's set to "weak" antialiasing. If you want to go the extra mile, I like to use a lasso-fill tool to block out shadows in all of my art, although if I'm using a rougher brush I'll usually do that manually. There's also other brushes I've been using more for rendering full pieces, such as a "rake brush" and a "design pencil" with low pressure to get details like blush down without making it too intense. That's basically it! I'll link the brushes below if I can find them: sleuth-y pen textured pen rake brush

[rhapsody-clown]

Guys please I am BEGGING you to pay more attention to the art you're reblogging

I've seen 2 different posts this week in the poolverine tag of stolen art and they both had over a hundred notes and no one calling them out.

The easiest way to tell is to compare the watermark/signature on the image with the username (no signature in combo with weird cropping is an immediate red flag). Here's one that I've seen recently making the rounds, I highlighted the signature and username to compare

They don't match. HOWEVER, there are artists whose signature is different than their user, and if you're not sure, check the blog. If they're an actual artist, you should be able to tell immediately because there will be other art pieces that match the signature and style. Art thieves tend to post multiple pictures as well, but the key differences are: the speed at which they post (your average artist isn't posting 3 different pieces back to back in the same day, at least not without an explanation), the signatures and watermarks of course, and noticeable differences in artstyle (and even artists who practice different styles are still gonna have tells that it's their art like the shapes, anatomy, coloring, shading are going to resemble each other)

Back to the example blog, let's look at their other posts.

The first was posted the same day as the poolverine piece, and not only is there no signature + obvious cropping, it's a completely different artstyle. There was no credit for the og artist on the post. The second also has a different signature and artstyle, and of course no credit to the original artist. We know now that this person has no problems with posting other people's art and letting people believe it's theirs.

One of the most common excuses these reposters give is that they found it on pinterest or some other site, where there was no credit, and wanted to share it anyway. Except it took me 3 SECONDS to find the artist of the poolverine art by reverse image searching, which you can find HERE. I unfortunately couldn't find the source for the Scarlet Witch art, but I did find the source of "Y/N's hero suit" HERE. Of course, not being able to find the source is even less of an excuse, because you should always get the artist's permission to repost, and you can't do that if you don't even know who the artist is.

This isn't meant to make you feel terrible for unknowingly reblogging stolen art, I understand that if you're just scrolling along it's easy to just reblog something you like without thinking, I've done this myself before, which is why I'm so particular about the art I reblog now. If you're willingly reblogging art that you know is stolen, then you're up there with the thief in your shittiness and you can go fuck yourself.

You shouldn't have to go sleuthing just to reblog art you like, but unfortunately the internet has shitty people that steal, so it's better to be safe than sorry.

[curedigiqueen]

I think if there was ever a follow up to Survive it'd probably be an 02 and/or Tamer's inspired sequel, and I do have thoughts about that, but I honestly think Frontier getting the Survive treatment would be coolest. I mean already Frontier is probably the anime most like Adventure outside of Adventure's reboot, so I think it would work really well for similar reasons as Survive. But it's got enough going that it'd be distinct too.

Survive deals with the horror in having another life form, a life form with the potential for incredible amounts of strength tied to you and your sense of identity. The horror of a group of children being spirited away to another world in the name of saving it (as sacrifices).

But with Frontier, the horror in asking what kind of kids, or for what reason kids would choose to follow a message and end up in another world. The horror in becoming something else.

Survive has 10 main characters, there are 10 legendary warriors.

Three Archangels and Lucemon instead of Four Holy Beasts and Fanglongmon

Instead of Haru and Miyuki a Strabimon (or Flamemon) who is later revealed to be a former human kid is found already in the Digital World

Instead of echoes of the human world the kids find chunks of land getting rearranged or just straight up missing

MagnaGarurumon and KaiserGreymon instead of Boltboutamon and Plutomon for route dependent evolutions and dependent on which kids survive to the end.

Susanoomon if all survive to the end/true ending

Karma/affinity levels determining attribute of characters (not how variable attribute usually works by tbh why not)

One route kids stay in digital world as digimon in another they leave the digital world forever in another they stay digimon but go home?

Light and Darkness can still be twins but like maybe codependent prior to being separated in the digital world. Like Strabimon is met by the group immediately and Duskmon is trying to hunt the kids down, but Strabimon weirdly won't let them hurt Duskmon?

Protag would be Flamemon(or equivalent) when they go back home in Takuya parallel and maybe have to fight human units without hurting them in the Ch 8 parallel

Character who dies because they'd rather die than become a Digimon.

Speaking of which what happens when these kids die?

Character who refuses to become human again because they never want to be weak again.

Character who loses themself to their beast form, maybe hurting themselves or someone else

If we want to include the concept of fractal code, the idea of the kids having parts of their code stolen/ changed/added to, affecting memories, physical traits, tastes, and skillsets.

Character conflicts leading to physical fighting in their Digimon forms

Being able to eat the strange foods in the digital world that would normally definitely be inedible

I think there's a lot of room for drama in what decisions lead the kids to end up in this world

Obviously one of the kids can be dragged their by their bullies so we have some bullies on the same team as their victim.

One kid went because they take any excuse not to go home so figured might as well check this out

Or another kid who desperately need money and were under the assumption this was a meet up for one of their jobs

Water can be the victim of toxic beauty standards/show industry/an idol

I think the fact the gender balance isn't as much of a problem as people might think as I think a lot of the Spirits are actually gender neutral looking enough to be female. I could see Darkness, Ice and/or Wood especially. (See Survive and Plutomon or Cyber Sleuth Alphamon for example).

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.238 Sleuths

Desiree was still playing with the dogs when I finished eating and showed no signs of letting them go. I was eager to speak with Sophia and get some clues about the missing parts of Dub's story, so I encourage Desi to go to bed early and rest up for her big day. Surprisingly, she did not protest and went upstairs. I gave her a moment to change before following her.

"Everything packed for school?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you have your schedule?"

"It's right here. They emailed it."

"Good. Good. Don't forget to see the principal when you get there. Are you sure you don't want us to come?"

"I'll be fine, Daddy."

I sensed I was getting annoying, so I dropped it.

"Alright. Just checking. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Whatever is in the fridge is fine! You don't have to make a big thing out of it."

I put my arm around her.

"But I do."

"I love you, Des. You're gonna be great. Sleep well, okay?"

"Goodnight."

I went back downstairs and found Sophia waiting patiently in the kitchen.

"Is she okay?" she asked.

I snorted.

"You know she is. She said we don't have to make it a big thing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she wanted to be rid of me."

"Silly. So, what's going on?"

The question un-paused all the previous questions I had before seeing about my daughter, and I was unsure of where to even begin. Hypotheticals always seemed to do the trick, so I tried one

"If I was a bad father, would you leave me?"

"What in the world are you talking about?" she asked.

"That's a real question. If Des grew up to be the brat of all brats, and it was my fault, would you kick me out?"

"Ummm..."

She thought about it for a long time, squinting her eyes and staring off into the corner of the room.

"I," she began. "Ruining my child would be quite hurtful, and I'd definitely be very angry with you for a while. Things may change between us, but..." She let out a long sigh. "I'm not sure I'd consider separation, though. At least not right away, maybe."

"Yeah. That's what I was thinking, too."

"Where is all this coming from?"

"Did Maia say anything to you when they were here? Like...problems they're having?"

"Problems? Not really. She mentioned some personal things, but nothing about their relationship. Honestly, it sounded like she was going through a midlife crisis. She mentioned struggling with her purpose and how to manage all her responsibilities while still being true to self."

"Hmph. That sounds very familiar."

"What's this about, Luca? What happened??"

I inhaled and let out a long, exasperated breath.

"She asked Dub to leave."

Sophia gasped.

"No! That's awful!"

"Yeah. I know he's not telling me everything, and I don't know what to think. It doesn't make sense! I just can't see her throwing him out because Tami is a brat. There has to be more."

"I agree. I remember you two talking about this."

"I knew you were listening!"

"How could I not! You were right there!"

"I'm just messing with you."

Thinking about my friend's disintegrating marriage was killing my vibe, so did a 180. We couldn't solve this in one night with the little information we had, so why continue talking about it?

"I have two very cool ideas," I said.

"Let's hear them!"

"Okay, first, Love Day is coming up, and I've been wanting to do a big family vacation ever since the kids could walk. What if we rent a big house and spend the weekend in Sulani?"

"Okaaay, I like this plan, but what does it have to do with Love Day?"

"I'm thinking, we get Less to watch the kids while we go on a date Friday night. Then Saturday, I take the boys, and you and Less take the girls, and we can do the woohoo talks. After that, we can do whatever. Then, Sunday is Beach Cleanup Day, so you and I can take all the kids to the beach while Less does whatever she wants."

"Woohoo? Already??"

"I know. I'm not looking forward to it, but I just know Less is gonna make me talk to them, anyway. Plus, kids today are a lot more grown than we were. It's probably not too early."

"Yeah, you're right. What was the other idea?"

"Alright, I know we said we would save the lottery money for the kids, but I've been thinking about that a lot lately. A million simoleons is a TON of cash! Do we really want to give kids fresh from high school hundreds of thousands of dollars?"

"Well...when you put it that way, maybe we do need to rethink it."

"Exactly. We have a little bit of time to consider how to do it, but in the meantime, I think we deserve to enjoy our money, especially since we have more time. We can start with our house dilemma."

"I've been thinking about it, too. I'm guessing you have an idea?"

"We love both our houses, yet would prefer not to live here anymore. What if we renovated our other house and add some elements we like about this house? We could have the contractors work on it while we're away and move in when we're back."

"I think I like this plan. Tell me what you're thinking of doing."

"Well, for starters, we could..."

[hoiststowline]

winter of our youth

[prologue - a03]

phase one

A moment passes, and after a brief stint of time, or so he thinks, his processor reminds him that his joints are starting to ache, a mild pain webbing up through his cables. Excruciatingly so, enough that he can't recall when he even sat himself on the ground, servos fidgeting restlessly against the cool metal of the device. The chair was not as comfortable as he originally assumed, moving the project to the floor however long ago proved a better solution.

He had everything scattered in front of him, for it was easier to see what he was dealing with this way. However, the more he stared at it, the more he moved a particular wire to the left and then played with a small spring between his digits, the more he was starting to lose his sanity. Hunched over on himself, he didn’t like the way his plating shifts, an echo of something more to be desired rings freely.

Another thought passes, harking back on how many Earth days have elapsed since his singular yet memorable interaction with one of its inhabitants. This version of time is lost to him, measures and hours bleed into deteriorating minutes until that gnawing fear crawls back that he isn't going to be successful in this endeavor, at least solo and moving at such a rate. Failure wasn't an option, at least to him, but he wasn't a fool, he knew when things were starting to look like burnout. 

Four days. His internal clock sneers, wondering if you had long brushed the encounter off as a drunken nightmare. Perhaps you'd already come to force yourself to believe he'd never dare to contact you again, elated to walk out your door to not find his alt-mode rumbling at the end of your driveway. 

It’s not as alarming as he originally thought to find a majority of his lengthy deliberations loitered back to you since that night. You were a missing piece to an equation he was straining to solve, whether he’d like to admit that aloud. He still had so many questions, so much more he wanted to apprehend as if your problems could provide him ripostes.

He understands you were lying candidly about why you were there that night, tearing through the woods like a bat out of hell. You saw something, and it was no figment of a wild imagination.

He'd heard it as well, pulling from his base to try and sleuth out what was puttering and idling amongst the trees. You had a reason to be there, looking for something more, and all you seemed to find was an interaction you'd sooner rather forget.  

Magnus finds it difficult to ask for help, even more so when it's from someone he lacks confidence in. You were terrified of him, and while it appeared to settle down towards the end of the evening, it was still an emotion that lingered in your words. But you had stared so intently at the device, small digits running over the machinery as if you knew roughly of it- 

"Is there someone you are trying to reach?" It was innocent, your subconscious pushing to have a polite conversation, and Magnus had snuffed your light out with a blatant bout of ignorance. Optimus would likely frown at his brashness, as well shake his helm at Magnus’ retelling of being so benighted. He was intruding on organic territory, the least he could do was be a little more effusive. Not everything was so top secret, nor was it so obstreperously black and white, you earned answers just as much as he did. 

It remains obvious that this is no longer a mission he can complete alone, a painful cue. Disgruntled, but he'll still acknowledge that somewhere in his spark, he wanted to check on you, on your health, and to see if your home was still as safe as it was five days ago. 

This is unbecoming of him, but he's also at a complete standstill in this task. With a heavy ex-vent, he goes eerily still with the fact that it's the first time he's used his voice box since speaking to you. He's isolated, and while he wasn't positive on how much help you could provide, the conversation would at least prolong the time until he went mad. 

The rain had started to fall, coating the air with a faint smell that you could only attribute to a damp autumn day. 

Hopeful of beating the storm, you slip on a pair of sneakers that had been tossed by the front door, scooping your car keys off the small wooden table that permanently resided there. Your sense of normal had finally begun to fall back into its routine, happy to enjoy the day off from work and run some errands. 

Magnus was the last thing on your mind, even though that night, only ninety-six hours ago, you were wide-eyed in bed, tears rolling freely down your freshly scrubbed cheeks. Just after he had dropped you home, you had hulled yourself away from the front door and all but crawled up the stairs, begging your subliminal to shut up.

Anxious to fall asleep, you wondered if he made it back to the woods okay, and if he’d appear randomly at your door the following morning. You weren't so afraid of him, after much thought, he had your best interest in mind for some otherworldly reason, but you could be the happiest person alive to never cross his path again.

Flipping the lock, your fingers find the cool metal of the knob as you spin it, stepping outside with your back to the street. A hum of some song you can't remember the title of persists on your lips, easily sliding your key into the lock and rotating it to the left. Just as you turn to assess just how heavily the rain has picked up, your heart drops to your feet, your throat constricting as if someone had squeezed the air right out of you. 

No. No. Your hands ball into fists to scour your eyes as if doing so would rub the image away. That damn blue truck, idling at the end of your driveway, lights flaring gently at your stare. "y/n-" His voice echoes loudly, firm but cut short. 

You're tempted to go back into the house, slam that door, and hide in there until he goes away. But you knew better, and for some ungodly reason, he knew you knew he wouldn't leave until he at least got a word in. 

Magnus hardly recognized you, not coated head to toe in mud and dressed in a much cleaner set of clothes. Your hair was not pulled back from your face, slightly unkept by the wind, your eyes conveying all you needed to say without so much as uttering a word.

Temper flared, you stomp down the front steps, brow furrowed and ready to give him a piece of your mind, yet, just as you approach the driver-side door, you are stridently reminded of his size. With an unsatisfied click, the door swings open, just missing your nose as he addresses you carefully.

"I can tell you are unhappy." He deadpans, interior blinking with his words. "And trust, I know you thought the other night would be the last you would see of me. I had planned the same." 

"So why," You start, but must take a deep breath in between to compose yourself, rain tickling your face. "Are you here?" 

There is a pause as if he doesn't know the answer to your question. Instead, he opts to ignore you, a habit he must know irritates the hell out of you. "Come out of the rain. I will explain myself,"

Against your better judgment, you sigh and yield to his wishes. "Don't make this a habit." Grabbing the handle, you haul yourself onto that first step, moving into the cabin and sliding past the steering wheel to settle into the passenger seat. Just like before, the seatbelt clicks across your waist with a mind of its own.

No gesture goes unnoticed by him, no matter how small, uneasiness radiates from you intensely.

"I would not be here if it was not my last resort." He gravels, door shutting over a little too forcefully for your liking. "Shall I put it this way? The faster you help me, the faster I will leave you alone." 

“It isn’t like that.” Why you are vying to make him feel better perturbs you, though you partially blame it on your irritatingly compassionate nature. “All I’m saying, a call first would be nice,”

“Is that a jest?” Magnus rasps, unmoving. “For I have no way to reach you. What would you infer I do?”  

You exhale loudly through your nose, arms crossing your chest in a defeated manner. “Can you just…why did you come back here?”

“I require assistance.” He says it as if it’s painful, a string of words that cause a behemoth like him vast injury.

“Elaborate.” You aren’t being all that forthcoming, but neither is he.

“I am referring to the communication device. You know something of it, something that I am missing or a part that you have or can obtain.” In a smaller voice, he continues. “That I cannot.”

You freeze an action that Magnus senses entirely. “Magnus- “

“It may be a matter of life and death.” His engine turns over, the rain begins to pick up as it runs down the windshield. “I hate to deploy such a responsibility upon you, but I am alone. Without that device I cannot contact my allies, meaning I cannot assist them. Your species may be in danger,”

For all you know, he could have made everything up. Bullshitted his way through a lousy speech to tug on your heartstrings, but damn was it working-

“You are asking me to help you fix your walkie-talkie, and then you’ll leave me be?” Magnus’ spark leaps, a small victory he can call a real one. You’re starting to come around, and you are half as tense as you were just four days ago.

“I cannot guarantee-“But he catches himself, starting to ease on the gas pedal to begin down your street. “I cannot ascertain that it will be the end of this relationship, but trust that I will do everything in my power to see that it is the last of it.”

 A voice rang in the back of his processor that this was wrong, for he was breaking so many rules that he’d have nowhere to commence when he finally rejoined the Autobots. Somehow, if he got your conviction, then he could prove the same to the others once the time came. You needed to be an collaborator, for it all to be fruitful and rational in his mind.

Trust. He keeps bringing that damn word up as if pestering you with it would cause you to believe he had yours. You suppose you could be a bit kinder; he did save your sorry ass only half a week ago and wasn’t holding it over your head as he rightfully should. Somewhere in your brain, you understood simply that you owed him a lot more than buying him a set of HDMI cables, and maybe if you could repay him this way, it’d end on a more peaceful note.

“S’okay.” Relaxing, numb fingers begin to fiddle together in your lap as your arms fall away from your chest. “I could always use a friend.” You mumble the last part, kept to yourself.

“Are you well versed in building machinery?” Magnus tries to ignore your whisper, moving forward in resolving his problems, yet your downheartedness is a familiar one.

“What? No.” Shaking your head twice, you press onwards. “I assumed you needed me to buy you jumper cables or something.”

“Jumper…cables? You still speak in jests?” Passing a familiar landscape, that faraway feeling of the same fear you felt days ago creeps forward. “You were focused on it the other rotation. You know something that I do not,”

You balk, scoffing a laugh. “Dude, it’s your communication thing. It’s probably technology NASA dreams of.”

“Ultra Magnus." He chides, and the bickering eases some of your nerves. "Or have you already forgotten?”

“No, it’s a term of-er, it’s a friendly term.” That vast forest appears on your right, a lingering reminder that you are fast approaching the foundations of your nightmare. “Sorry, I’ll knock it off. Force of habit.”

“Ah, understood.” He drawls, but you aren’t fully convinced he believes you. “However, you recognized something amongst your transitory overview. You are more intelligent than you realize.” 

Concisely, you can indistinctly evoke a memory of that one port in particular that had snatched your attention in your momentary solitude. Still, you couldn’t place which cord exactly went where, nor know if connecting it would turn it on. “I think you’re getting your hopes too high.”

When he doesn’t reply immediately, you add: “Or are delirious in thinking I can help you.”

“I am out of options.” His voice hitches, a grumble of something tilting to break free, but he catches himself.  “Perchance you missed the part where I mentioned this was my last resort.”  

“No, no. I didn’t forget that.” You’re starting to hate how normal this all feels, though the insanity does not pass by that you’re talking to a fucking car. “I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest.”

“Good.” You weren’t expecting that, jolting slightly. “It is better that we are honest with each other.”

Sniffling, a sense of apprehension rises in your chest. “Yeah? How so,”

“Your caution is…warranted, though I appreciate your honesty, no matter how brutal it is.” With a sigh, you gather yourself, elbow resting on the armrest with the slightest amount of pressure, an involuntary action on your behalf.

“For some reason,” You start, realizing you are fast approaching the area you had seemingly just left. Swallowing down the round of stale tears that rise to the surface, you push away the memory of whatever was after you, collecting fumbled words to continue. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine nor begin to understand your situation, but I owe you. The least I can do is try to help in any way I can.”

You’re rambling, words stumbling from chapped lips before you can even try to stop them. Magnus listens, intently at that, searching for deceit in your blundered sentences, but finds none. For once, when you meant it, you were being candid. It’s a relief, a step in the right direction, and eases some of his own trepidation about the whole thing.

“Many thanks.” It’s soft, words wrapping you in a hug you didn’t ask for.

Silently the ride continues another six minutes, until he comes to an eased stop, seatbelt pulling backward as the door opens. “Thank you.” You whisper, grabbing the same handle you squeezed goodbye just the other day as the door opens.

With a soft thud, you hit the damp ground, rain letting up momentarily, though it still mists over your clothes sporadically. Taking a few unsteady paces forward, halfway into a step, you hear that same clunking noise that alerts you the truck is no longer behind you.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to that, jumping a bit as you turn, finding his confused stare looking back at you. His head tilts to the right, just enough that he catches himself and rightens his spine.

“Whatever is the matter?” Magnus breathes. “You’ve paled,”

Clammy palms come to slap at your cheeks, coughing awkwardly as a familiar warmth floods to your ears. He might be absolutely frightening, but he’s got a friendliness in his tone that you’ve yet to encounter, a kinder approach than his overreaching personality. You infer it’s because you’ve offered your help, a bit less stubborn than before, and he’s willing to drop a bit of his armor.“What?” You squeak, taking a step backward as he leans forward. “No, I’m fine.”

Standing beneath his shadow, even as he remains crouched on the ground like that, was nauseating still. There is no getting used to it, even as your neck starts to hurt craning it back like that to talk to him.

“Are you certain?” Your feet freeze to the ground, gasping as one of his fingers cups your chin, bent at the knuckle like he had the other day. He’s warm, contrary to what you would have previously thought, heart pounding in your ears as he assesses you with an exasperating amount of restraint. “You look as if you are about to faint, just as you did before.”

Slowly, you peel your palms from your face, fingers settling on his to apply a slight amount of pressure as if to shoo him away. “I feel fine.” Insistent, your voice must do the convincing as your strength was nothing compared to his.

“If, you are sure.” Not pulling back immediately, his touch lingers for a second too long before his digit falls from your skin. “Shall we?” He asks, moving off one knee to stand.

Swallowing thickly, a thought passes by that you feel talking to him is a tad easier when he is a truck. Not trapped under that dense stare, feeling impossibly small, your sarcasm and courage are retained when you can’t see his eyes. You don't think that same bubbling anxiety as you did the first exchange, but wariness still struggles deep within your heart. He's being plain-speaking, being accommodating, and the least you could do is return the favor. 

Feasibly, you could take this entire interaction with stride, hoping it would see itself through to the end. If fate had woven your paths for a reason, possibly someday you could look back on this memory fondly, wondering why you were so fretful about it all. 

Maybe in a distant future.

“Yeah.” You start, trudging towards the entrance you shouldn’t know. “We shall.”

“One more question,” You turn, not liking how long it takes you to meet his gaze. “What is a walkie-talkie?”

[homestuckreplay]

radiation poisoning from my libertarian grandpa :(

(page 779-791)

A few days of updates here! I was kinda mad about the Fruit Update on the 18th. I like captchalogue mechanics, it’s fun to see how all the different modi work and the different situations characters can get into when the modi go wrong. But a five page update of just picking up fruit was too much for me. I simply could not find an interesting thing to say about that.

But now we’ve seen more of Jade’s house, and it’s… a lot. Her atrium having four wings might be relevant later, but doesn’t mean much yet – same with the beautiful pink and yellow clouds outside. Her real instrument looks like a bass guitar (due to its four strings). A trend I noticed before of the kids’ rooms getting messier and houses and lives getting weirder with each successive introduction definitely peaks here. Jade’s room is littered with plushies, plants, guns and uranium, and her grandfather might be the strangest of the four guardians, stranger than a business clown, a ventriloquist rapper, or a woman who builds a cat mausoleum with a secret passage.

Jade’s grandfather is a ‘WORLD RENOWNED EXPLORER-NATURALIST-TREASURE HUNTER-ARCHEOLOGIST-SCIENTIST-ADVENTURER-BIG GAME HUNTER-BILLIONAIRE EXTRAORDINAIRE’ (p.790) which doesn’t paint a great picture to me. That description suggests a man whose quest for personal glory eclipses any regard for other cultures, the environment, health and safety guidelines, or anyone ‘weaker’ than he is. He probably ‘discovered’ the frog statue island we see in WV: Ascend and took it as a trophy, raising his family there even if that’s not the best thing for the island ecosystem or his granddaughter’s life and health.

Jade’s bed and her two closets (below and inside her room) are all topped with strange reddish orbs on spires. It could be coincidence – there’s only so many shapes – but they remind me of the orb spires the kernelsprites land in after hatching (p.424), and as such, could have some connection to her strange powers. Jade’s other contraptions, gadgets and gizmos are a mystery to me – I know the window is a Problem Sleuth reference, but for the photoshopped in devices, I can barely begin to speculate. I do think that given the sciences of appearification, transportalization, alchemy, sylladices and strife specibi, these probably don’t have the same in-universe applications as their real world references. Physics simply works differently in the world of Homestuck, and I’m trying to make fewer assumptions about the world’s fundamentals (beyond gravity, which we’ve witnessed often).

Jade has been so associated with prognostication and esoteric knowledge that finding out she is also a nuclear physicist, a very different type of knowledge, was such a moment of characterization whiplash that puts her at both extremes of the science-religion dichotomy.

The uranium nuggets in Jade’s room, and recurring atomic symbol on her contraptions matching the bunker’s fuel gauge, are more connections between her and WV. But her room contains nods to all her friends, too. Her Slimer poster and magic chest are obvious John references. Her Squiddles poster and plushes are something Rose likes enough to put on a shirt, really hurting her dark eldritch aesthetic, and the anthropomorphic Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff art is signed TO: GG FROM: TG (he even drew his stupid record symbol). Worse, the Manthro Chaps Jade collects are definitely part of the Smuppets line of products; their design is so similar.

A becquerel is the standard unit of radioactive decay per second, and luckily for Jade, one becquerel is not harmful to human health – in fact, human bodies are constantly undergoing several thousand Bq of radioactive decay (even the skeleton has its own radioactive isotopes). I wonder if this is Jade’s cute name for her pet because she loves science, or if this creature has been mutated by Jade or her grandfather’s experimentation, and got the name that way. It could explain why Dave calls Bec a ‘devilbeast’ (p.382) and thinks he should be shot. (Seeing Jade’s gun collection also makes this line feel way too real).

JADE SHIRT DESIGNS TALLY: Atom, Leaf, Pumpkin, Slimer, Spirograph, Squiddle, Creature

> Jade: Engineer a glass case for your URANIUM and store it outside.

[bears-ao3-blog]

May I request Engie and Spy? I'm very curious about their relationship since it has only been implied through the story.

Need a Fixin' - requested by @limon-tagetes

There was a soft knock on Spy's quarter's doors and the Frenchman lifted his head from his catalogue of various gears and gadgets, pausing in the middle of circling one very interesting-looking, personally engraved cloak and dagger, since his old one had recently busted and was in need of replacing. He huffed in mild displeasure at being interrupted in the middle of his very important business, but he stood up regardless, setting his magazine down. He took a slow drag and put out his cigarette as well, offering up a simple: 

"Just a moment." 

before he finished and approached the door. He carefully turned the knob, on is guard as always, but it dropped the second his eyes trailed slightly down to see an awkward-looking Engineer attempting to put on a casual act. What the hell was Engineer doing here? Usually Spy was the one to approach the inventor. That's how their odd little relationship began. Engineer would always be working, a constant, something you don't often among the RED base, and if Scout or Pyro weren't already taking up his time, Spy would join him. At first, Spy never really said much, just smoked close by. Then Engineer had asked him to grab him a tool, and was pleasantly surprised that Spy could retrieve it without asking a million questions on what it looked like, what it did, how to use it. Spy simply got up, rummaged through Engineer's toolbox for a few seconds, and swiftly handed him the implement he asked for.  

"Thanks, pardner, that was quicker'n a hiccup! I might hav'ta keep ya around." 

Spy remembers the way the shorter man had looked at him, despite those stupid goggles that the sleuth hated – which he hated because they looked awful, of course...definitely not because Spy wishes he could see the other's face completely. Absolutely not. But the way he looked at him with that lopsided smirk as he spoke with that Texan accent in that voice of pure honey.  

It made Spy question some things. Like his sanity, of course. Why the hell was this overqualified hillbilly who waves a wrench around getting a reaction like that out of him? Was there a gas leak? Were all of his years of smoking finally coming to a head as an incredibly misplaced tumor in his brain rather than lungs? This was ridiculous. 

And it got even more ridiculous, because as the two continued to spend time together, Spy found himself looking forward to seeing him. His stupid jokes were actually funny. He wasn't annoying to be around like literally everyone else he had the displeasure of sharing a living quarters with. The man was fairly educated and could keep up with Spy's pretentious conversation topics. He genuinely enjoyed being around him. Now, he wasn't some schoolboy with a crush. It's not like he lied awake at night thinking about him! 

...and then he started lying awake at night thinking about him. Seething that this tinkering simpleton in overalls managed to catch his attention. Fury coursing through his veins that he found this country bumpkin attractive. Maybe there was a gas leak, because there's no way in hell Engineer managed to lodge himself into Spy's usual type of quick-tongued, badass, capable women.   

"Uhh...hey, Spooks." 

Oh, yeah, he was right in front of him. Spy broke out of his freeze of mild shock, clearing his throat quietly. 

"l'Ingénieur, I am surprised to see you here. Iz there a problem?" 

"Oh, no, no. I just, uhh, haven't seen ya around lately." 

Spy looked back into his private quarters and realized in horror that he was turning back and offering the other to join him. They both stared at each other in surprise and quickly reddening cheeks before Engineer smiled that damn smile and nodded. 

"Well, sure!" 

Spy hesitantly widened the door so Engineer could slip past him, tensing when the other's shoulder brushed past his chest. He peered down either hallway for any prying eyes, knowing news about this encounter would spread like wildfire. Spy never let people into his smoking room. So why in God's name was he letting Engineer? 

It occurred to Spy that there were no places for Engineer to sit, and he was about to speak up about it when Engineer hopped up onto the arm of his lounge chair without a second thought, and Spy wished he never opened that stupid door. He gingerly sat down in the seat, looking up at Engineer, who had to twist to see the other. Engineer smiled again, tilting his head questioningly. 

"So, whatcha been upta, Sneak?" 

Spy pushed aside his panic at being so close to the other, despite the mildly awkward position they found themselves in, and hummed while thinking. 

"Not much, I suppose. My cloaking watch has stopped working, so I was just in ze process of finding another." 

Engineer perked up, his smile widening. 

"Well, why didn'tcha say so sooner? Give it here, I'll take a look at it." 

Engineer stuck out a gloved hand, an expectant look on his face. Spy eyed him skeptically before fishing the golden watch from his inner suit pocket, also taking out his cigarette case in the process. He lit up another while Engineer eyed the device quizzically. The tinkerer made a small sound of understanding and fished out a couple small tools from his belt. He twisted around again and the two made eye contact one more – well, as much eye contact as possible when one of the two's eyes were covered. 

"I see what's wrong. I'll get it fixed in a jiffy, don't you worry." 

Spy wanted to scream as he felt his face warm. He was so close and that stupid, godforsaken accent that he should not like was making his chest squeeze and he was kicking himself internally, repeatedly, to "get your jaw off the floor and speak already!" 

"R-Right, yes. Of course...er, sank you, mon ami." 

He was stuttering and mumbling like an idiot. This stupid man was making him stutter and mumble like an idiot! How embarrassing. He needed to pull himself together, immediately. 

Thankfully, they quickly fell into their usual comfortable quietness as Engineer finicked around with the cloak and dagger, and Spy returned to browsing his spy catalogue for anything that caught his eye, time passing as they idly did their own thing in the other's company. It was 15 minutes or so later that Engineer pressed the activation button with a tiny click, and he suddenly vanished, slightly startling Spy. He froze as a shadow suddenly case over him and he slowly looked up to see Engineer directly in front of him, looming over him with his pleasant smile, offering the watch back with a small chuckle. All the moisture in Spy's mouth vanished as well, and he swallowed with a nervous click as he slowly took the watch. He quickly found himself, and his wide eyes and slightly raised brows were quickly replaced with his usually gloomy expression, glaring up at the man above him. 

"Sank you for your assistance, but I must kindly request zat you refrain from toying around with my belongings, Ingénieur." 

The inventor's smile turned sheepish and his hand trailed to the back of his neck to rub at it, and he laughed again, more nervous this time. 

"Ah, sorry, Spooks. I'll keep that it mind." 

There was a small pause before Engineer spoke up again. 

"I should probably get back to the shop. Wanna tag along?" 

Spy tore his eyes away from his fixed watch, to look at the other again, before his eyes averted as he gave it some thought. He sighed, feigning a begrudging look, despite the answer being a resounding yes within the privacy of his own mind. 

"I suppose." 

And then Engineer smiled that damn smile again, and Spy wonders how long he can keep doing this before he goes insane.  

[localnerdcase]

hey, quick word of advice for anyone making a mspa inspired reader-command comic, don't just do what the command says.

early homestuck (, jailbreak and problem sleuth) operate under "fuck you" logic.

take problem sleuth for example:

a misguided mspfa artist would decide to render this panel in excruciating detail, but it's kept simple because, hey, the last two adventures weren't anything major, why would this one be any different?

just looking at it, what do you see? okay, if you've read problem sleuth, you know what's really happening in this picture and what's behind it.

but if you took it at face value and just wrote it as is, you would turn up with "a detective is in his office. a gun is sitting on his desk, next to it is a phone. behind it is a window and a chair. there is a safe on the wall." [citation needed]

this hypothetical parallel universe problem sleuth is quickly forgotten about in the history of the person who made it and in mspfa history.

...but nothing in the room works the way you think it would, see that window on the door? it's actually a piece of paper attached to the door, also the door is locked. see that safe? it's fake, and there's a clown painting behind it. that window? it's a portal to another dimension.

and this information isn't given to the audience at first, all they know at first is that this is a detective story, and the description "You are one of the top Problem Sleuths in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hard boiled tonight." before the 'what will you do?' prompt.

go and read the first 10 pages of problem sleuth right now, here's a link: (https://www.homestuck.com/problem-sleuth), it's also in the unofficial homestuck collection.

a summary of what you (hopefully) just read: "get the gun" "there is no gun in here (there's a key where the gun was in the artwork)" "get the key" "why? the door isn't locked" "open the door" "you can't" "punch the door" "why would that work? the door's locked" "get the key" "you got the gun".

this is also done to simpler effect in homestuck's intermission: "be spades slick" "you are now hearts boxcars" [sic].

early homestuck had slightly less of this effect done, because of the more story-focused writing homestuck as a whole had, and even ditched the reader commands because of it.

if you want story from the start, just write the comic yourself. if you want reader commands from the start, take a more comedic tone.

when problem sleuth became more complex later on, it was because the logic was starting to layer onto itself, and more named ("named") characters were being added and continued to exist. also hussie is a huge nerd who can keep track of these sort of things.

but back to the main point, don't just do what the reader's command says, the readers are expecting you to do something funny or interesting with your command, if you just do what they say in a simple or uncreative way, they're not going to humor you.

problem sleuth's "puzzles" are bizarre, surreal and abstract at times (best described as "weird"), but they still are puzzles with solutions, BUT, those puzzles' solutions are made by the audience, more like the readers are "breaking" the logic presented to them by the story.

if you have only one solution to a problem, you're better off making an actual game, just writing the story yourself in accordance with the character's arcs, or leaving it up to a poll.

-a guy who has written exactly one mspfa and barely reads them anymore.

[acuteautonomy]

... Who did you come here looking for? If it isn't me, you're in the wrong place.

>>>OOC FROM HERE ON OUT! DNI, Ask Guidelines, Extra Art + Nightmare Form Ref and Links to Previous Intro Posts below the cut.

DNI: bigots, proshippers, israel supporters, NSFW accounts, MAGA, etc. General DNI list. Ask guidelines: Keep it civil, no begging, no NSFW, use common sense. This is a SFW blog. Tags: aa asked, aa answered, aasaysstuff, mod moment, my art, aa's thoughts Same mod as @trickstertriangle (and @paranoidtriangle) Original Intro Post Includes concept art and such. Theraimprisment Arc Intro Post Includes Theraprism Patient File (Though not in all forms- only the final version.)Tag for arc #theraimprisment arc Misplaced Soul Arc Intro Post Tag for arc #misplaced soul arc Current Arc: Missing Arc Tag for arc #missing arc

Extra Art (Note, AA tends to create and wear dresses. Art of them is not included in this post.)

NIGHTMARE FORM REF. Moth Dog. Text on wing is "If lost return to the axolotl" in Color code, Bill code, Theraprism code, and plain English. She can enter this form voluntarily. Usually she will be the size of a large dog excluding wingspan, but if she gets angry enough that she enters this form involuntarily, she will be twice the size of a normal nightmare form Bill- again, excluding wingspan. This art may not show many details but I may add more sketches later to show more of it.

Test art I did before doing the profile art. Fun thing, her favorite color is yellow, but her second favorite is pink. This is a trait she shares with other TT variants.

Had Homestuck on the mind while drawing this one. Other Homestuck (or even Problem Sleuth) fans may know why pumpkins came to mind. Man I love the Homestuck soundtrack...

Hid Ammy in the shapes of this image but it's hard to tell. Ammy being the dog AA's soul was reincarnated into. Y'know, during the Misplaced Soul Arc. That was like. Just now. Lasted a bit over a month. Anyways, she's pretty hidden.

Yippee! Yippee! Yippee! Yippee! Yippee! Yippee! Yippee!

Dog soul sillies. It DOES affect her personality. :)

Covering her engraving + Customer service torment. She is doomed... Doomed to O'Sadley's employment... OoooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo scaryyyyyyyyy.......

[sgiandubh]

Sasnak City - a different view

I will never encourage you enough to read the whole comments' thread of a post you liked. Otherwise, it's blink and you'll miss it, as I almost missed the only feedback of the Sasnak City event we have on this side of the spectrum: @rosfrank's. She graciously agreed to let me repost them and I truly thank her for the kindness.

Her comments were made under two different posts, so I collated them and vetted their content as much as I could, given the unprecedented context of the SAG-AFTRA strike and the scarcity of details. I did not watch the recap on Instagram, because I am not a fan of the format.

I had no idea Sasnak City was a consistent partner of the Camp Encourage for autistic children project. At least since 2020, as a very superficial Google search shows:

...in 2020, with RR...

... in 2022....

What is Camp Encourage?

This:

Do you have any idea of what it is to be the mother of an autistic child? I don't have this honor. I have never been through the stress and the pain of looking for the right solution, for the good therapist. I never had to swallow my impotent tears and fight with the angel, fruitlessly asking myself why did it happen to me.

I can assure you that career, money and the white picket fence house which mortgage you just paid off do not matter. Not when you wait dejected, with your well-garnished checkbook and no hope in sight, until the good doctor will finally see you. Not when your child is a desperately inaccessible fortress. Not when you tell yourself you just can't take it anymore and yet miraculously find out that yes, you eventually can, over and over and over again.

Before judging, you might want to take a moment.

Side note: the man who supposedly is not good with kids interacted with the organizer's autistic son. On stage (try and take an autistic person out of their comfort zone, anyone?). Oh. What an inconvenient truth, again.

Different figures circulate. I think this is pretty close to reality and also to the 'small and personal fan convention format'. Not sure it made anybody rich overnight, after you deduce all the costs - part of proceeds went to the above charity, anyways. Zealots would like more transparency, perhaps. With which moral authority?

Second bone of contention and a particularly unsavory one, at that, the disrespect of the SAG-AFTRA's strike rules:

What was I telling you, the other day?

As for the limbo, I cannot believe no one bothered to look around a bit for confirmation. On Facebook, for example:

They did their due diligence homework. This announcement was posted on July 14, 2023, with a solidarity with the strike hashtag to boot. Propaganda? Hypocrisy? Oh, give me a break. It is legally impeccable.

There you go. No mention of the show anywhere - check. Screened questions - check. Only the SS paraphernalia (pics, etc) supplied - check. Books still ok for autographs (at S's discretion to go ahead or not, which means SAG-AFTRA is ok with, by the way) - check. Make lemonade when life gives you lemons and 'be creative' - check.

Where is the problem? Why certain sleuthing skills suddenly vanish when it's about formulating a balanced, reasonable POV?

Let me guess. It's all about the "go away, ugly socks, your story sucks" syndrome. Oh.

You'd wish, duckies. You'd wish.

I am not these people's lawyer. Playing Atticus Finch completely ceased to interest me sometime around 1998 AD. I even doubt we can stand each other IRL, for reasons. But I am not discussing people, here. I am discussing and debunking a homespun web of self-righteous lies.

Thank you, @rosfrank. Your gesture was generous and very, very brave.

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: The Intermission (p. 1154-1357)

Read the previous post here. Read the next post here.

Apologies for the late post. Work has genuinely been kicking my ass. But now it's time to read the Midnight Crew Intermission. You either really love or really hate this section of the story. I've always been a fan, so I'm looking forward to going through it.

The Intermission is more in-line with the spirit of Problem Sleuth than the rest of Homestuck. Hussie is returning to the old adventure game format and jokes, like this one where interacting with one item transforms it into a completely different item.

Despite being a bloodthirsty mobster, Slick is quite prone to acts of silliness when dictated by the reader commands.

I like how the digital clock on Slick's own computer counts as one of the clocks in the Felt's mansion.

I love the Felt. They're like a lineup of Dick Tracy goons. I also appreciate how this page gives subtle hints about what each of their powers are.

There are a number of times where a command to switch the POV to one character instead goes to a different character. I'm not sure if there's any logic here, or if Hussie is just being needlessly confusing in an already very elaborate part of the comic. My gut says the latter.

Doze without a doubt has the worst power out of all the Felt. It's only useful in this specific use case where he's resistant to interrogation, but that wouldn't even be needed if he wasn't getting captured all the time.

You know, "WARdrobe" was right there. I know Slick's inventory is already called the "War Chest", but is there even a pun there? Why not call it a "Battle Chest" like Battle Chess? They're living chess pieces. Come on.

Super speed is such a high tier power, yet Itchy is felled with no effort. It's kinda funny how most of the Felt have these incredible powers and could easily trounce the MC if not for the fact that they seem to collectively share one brain cell.

It makes me wonder if the MC and Felt's rivalry had only consisted of harmless cartoon antics up to this point. And it's only after the Felt "knocked over" one of Slick's favorite casinos that MC decided to escalate to murder. I'd compare it to how the '60s Batman TV show was campy slapstick, but modern Batman media has since transitioned to being much grittier and more violent.

I need a version of this comic page with Clover being shocked about Slick killing his friends.

Unlike the previous carapacians we've seen (WV, PM, AR), Slick has five fingers instead of four. I think he, Droog, and the Queens are the only ones with five fingers.

Meanwhile Deuce only has three chunky fingers. I'm not sure what the deal with that is.

A lot of people like to infantilize Deuce in the same way they do to WV. Here's a reminder that he reads erotic magazines just like the other Crew members.

See what I mean? He is a grown ass man, people.

Trace is my favorite Felt member. I like his goofy underbite and the way his coat collar makes it look like he has a shark fin on his head. His power of seeing and interacting with people in the past is also pretty cool, even if it gives him away as soon as he starts messing with them.

It's a nice detail including Deuce in the panel since Droog had alerted him to where Trace will be at this point in the future.

I love this panel. I believe Hussie just grabbed that image of the cane without realizing what it was until this point.

It's telling that the only timeline where Slick is dead is one where he died before he was able to rebuild society.

This might be a contender for the horniest page in all of Homestuck.

Biscuits has no special powers or anything, he just wants to be included. I love that.

Fin, despite having the power to see what others do in the future, was unable to react to Droog smacking him with the cue stick and getting pumped with bullets. Again, these guys are all morons.

Remember when this was the only clue we had about Lord English's appearance and everyone thought he was going to be some tall, rail-thin Tumblr Sexyman? Good times.

I'm a fan of this detached method of writing how the characters talk to each other. There's a lot of personality being conveyed in what they're saying even though none of it is being presented as dialogue. Unironically it feels more natural to read than the standard dialogue box format.

Snowman can do whatever the hell she wants and all anyone else can do is just watch. The benefits of having your lifespan inextricably linked to that of the universe.

Also, I don't think it needs to be said, but "Three in the Morning" is a god tier track.

Nearly every mention of Sawbuck comes with a jab about his weight. Don't come at me with asks saying that it's just Slick being an asshole. We all know whose "voice" this really is. (Hint: It's the guy with all the fat jokes on his Formspring).

I wonder how many people remember that Slick is a canon zoophile.

Slick's "rapier wit" strikes again!

A strong contender for most gruesome death in all of Homestuck.

So does this mean that it's set to go off a few seconds after the point Biscuits would exit the oven? If the oven behaves normally and Biscuits is just sitting in there until the timer goes off, that must be the case. The wording is very awkward though.

Cans's ability to punch people into the future might make him the most powerful of all the Felt. No wonder the MC was hoping he wouldn't show up.

I like that the detail about the shopping trip is included.

It's noteworthy that this early look at Karkat's room doesn't look anything at all like how it appears when he's properly introduced. Also, this is the sole appearance of Crabsprite, which stings a bit since we don't ever get a proper glimpse of what Karkat's relationship with his lusus is like.

This was a fun little diversion. Not a lot to talk about here other than how much I enjoyed a lot of these gags. I kind of wish that Hussie expanded upon this and made a whole adventure with these guys detached from Homestuck. It would've made for a nice follow-up to Problem Sleuth, something more true to that story's tone and humor.

But that would never come to pass, unfortunately. Now it's back to business as usual. Act 4 awaits.

[thelastclementine]

charles being the first main character to be cast feels quite fitting when you think about it

the characters are all, of course, more than just their relation to one character but he feels like the glue even when edwin or crystal are driving the narrative. he’s the one who convinces edwin that crystal should stay on the team, he inadvertently pushes edwin and niko to become close, he’s unintentionally fueling edwin’s sexuality exploration and jealous, kinda reckless sleuthing, etc.

when a storyline involves everyone, charles is always going through these very traditionally hero’s journey dilemmas and revelations. he’s the one who still doesn’t know where he’ll end up if he passes on, the one linking edwin and death’s realm (unsure if it’s strictly just her realm) to crystal, port townsend, the waking/living world. he’s the one who’s questioning whether he’s like the dragons or his dad or the “villain.” charles is just as if not more averse to the idea of moving on than edwin is and it drives him in a lot of complex ways that 8 episodes is barely enough time to delve into, but set the most expansive roots in the narrative.

the way his character was built and how jayden meshed with charles, it make sense that it might’ve been very important when it came to what they were looking for when they cast george, kassius, and to a different extent yuyu.

charles feels like a percy jackson type character, he feels so close, seemingly so open with everyone (especially the girl he’s interested in), helping them out, giving them a reliable shoulder to lean on. he’s like the ideal hero of a prophecy because he’ll do what he thinks is right as best he can, but his own problems often simmer until they’re boiling over and he can’t do anything about them. it makes complete sense why he’d be the lighthouse for the rest of the main character casting.

[inkforhumanhands]

WIP Folder Game

RULES: make a new post and share with us the titles of your documents in your wip folder(s) and some detail if you wish, no matter how old, random, or disconcerting. Sort as you see fit (or don't). Ask the person who tagged you a question about the title(s) that most intrigue you from their list, and tag as many people as you'd like to join the game!! Have fun :)

Thank you to @pomegranate-belle for the tag!!

--

I'm usually somewhat discerning with these and keep it to ones I actually have a file for but 2025 is the year I'm dreaming big I guess lmao

I have quite a few for DD (TV):

Epistaxis Anime currently working on the 8th and final chapter of Matt's nosebleed saga. now that Foggy knows his secret, how will things end up between them?

A Gentleman Caller working on chapter 2 of this one where vampire!Matt shows up at Foggy's window one night supposedly looking for romance. i've started the second of two scenes and it's been fun so far! i don't usually do much worldbuilding but i'm having fun with it here.

Out of the Darkness, Into the Limelight another one i'm working on chapter 2 for. Matt and Foggy kiss for a student film and things spiral from there. in chapter 2 we start to see the fallout of the kiss and all the mess that ensues!

Fake Breakup (working title) the premise of this one is that Foggy asks Matt to break up with him in public to gain sympathy and an extension from a professor for one of their assignments. they weren't even dating, so why does it hurt? i'm only a few hundred words into this one and am still thinking about its scope.

Saint Anthony this is a collab oneshot i'm doing with happybeans where Foggy gets kidnapped and Matt prays to St. Anthony to help him find him. it's very cracky but i'm having a lot of fun writing St. Anthony's POV.

i'm also working on a series of unrelated works where i post one for each season of the show:

Foggy Nelson, Super Sleuth! (season 1) this one is very old. i originally posted chapter 1 in 2019 and then fell off the wagon, but i'm currently rewriting the first chapter in preparation for eventually continuing it. the premise is that Foggy tries to figure out why Matt keeps showing up to work bruised and battered, and Matt has to try and thwart his sleuthing before he figures out he's DD.

S2 Karen Thinks Their Breakup Is Romantic Fuckery (working title) (season 2) i'm really excited for this one even though i haven't written a single word of it lmao. basically what the title says. when Matt and Foggy are having their friendship troubles in s2 Karen assumes the problem is due to their having feelings for each other and Foggy doesn't correct her.

To the Dregs Redux (Defenders) i wrote a ficlet ages ago where Foggy and Karen visit a witch to get Matt resurrected after Midland Circle and am planning to rewrite and continue it. probably going to go into doppelganger territory since Matt isn't actually dead

I'll Take All of My Wasted Love and Turn It into Wine in My Cup (season 3) i also haven't technically started this one yet. it's going to be angst about Foggy turning to alcohol when he still thinks Matt is dead.

now for DD (comics)!

The Advocate this is a ficlet i'm writing set in early volume 1 about Foggy trying to convince Karen to give Matt another chance before she goes to San Francisco, only for her to try to get him to realize the only reason he thinks Matt is so great is because he's in love with him himself. might be done soon???

His Wife Has Filled His House With Chintz my beloved wip. set in volume 1 after the Micah Synn stuff, Foggy tells Matt he's leaving Debbie and then they go fuck about it.

i am also doing a series for this, one fic for each comic volume:

Hearsay (volume 1) currently working on chapter 2 of this one. the outline is a bit more involved than my fics usually get so i'm excited about that! this one is about Foggy overhearing a rumor that Matt is dating Daredevil and he doesn't know how to feel about it. also there's a subplot about Becky and Foggy getting involved in a disability rights case which should be fun

Stitching Up the Seams on Every Broken Promise That Your Body Couldn't Keep (volume 2) this is another one that i haven't actually started writing. it takes place while Foggy is in witness protection, and Matt starts having sex dreams about his (presumably) dead buddy much to his horror.

Matchmaker Ben Urich (working title) (volume 3) not started. Ben finds himself temporarily reassigned to the gossip column beat as penalty for being too good of a reporter (you know how these things go). he decides to at least do something useful with his time and use his skills to get Matt and Foggy together using the column.

Cancer Arc Jealousy (working title) (volume 4) this one (unstarted) is probably going to be short. i'm thinking a little interiority from Foggy in San Francisco where he stews a little bit about the fact that Kirsten can go out in public with Matt but he's got to be in hiding.

Purple Children (working title) (volume 5) i have a tiny bit of this one written. Matt and Foggy are dating when the Purple Children wipe everyone's memory of Matt's identity. Foggy thinks he was cheating on Matt with DD the whole time and, horrified, breaks up with Matt but doesn't tell him why. angst and retroactive identity porn shenanigans.

Matt's Intimacy Issues (working title) (volume 6) not started, probably a oneshot. Matt hasn't slept with Foggy only because Foggy is the equivalent of a U-Haul lesbian and he's worried about opening up the door to having to be emotionally vulnerable.

Goldy Threatening Foggy (working title) (volume 7) not started. listen, while the Goldy thing never panned out (or at least not yet) you can't tell me there's not potential there both with him threatening Foggy to try and make Matt a better DD or something and Foggy getting a little jealous because he doesn't know what's up with Goldy but he does know that Matt has gotten increasingly weird about him.

Other fandoms:

Guesswork (The OC) working on chapter 3, or at least i should be but i need to have a hard think about where i actually want to take the fic first. Seth/Ryan where some dark things in Ryan's past weigh heavily on the chances of them working out.

The Good One (The OC) an in-progress oneshot tied to season 1 episode 3 where Ryan reflects on his relationship with his alcoholic mom.

Prequel (working title) (Matthias & Maxime) this in-progress oneshot is supposed to be a prequel about the first time Matt and Max kissed while high, as mentioned in the film. i've been having trouble with it so i have no idea when i'll finally get it out.

Cacoethes (Hannibal) need to continue with chapter 2 on this one, where Hannibal convinces Will he's got a sexual obsession with him.

tagging @amazing-spiderling and @mutuallyprime i don't know if you were tagged yet!

[thewebcomicsreview]

Hamsteak Liveblog

A'ight hell tier update, and the first update is that they've changed the chapter select menu. It's now explicitly a chapter select where the chapters are numbered, whereas the old menu made it look like you were meant to choose your own order. Up next is "Chapter X", which appears to be Davepeta. My prediction is that we're done with the ghost cameos and Davepeta is going to give the moral of the story and then the final 8-ball update with be Vriska vs Vriska to bring it home.

I am almost immediately proven wrong. This is a "Meanwhile" where Davepeta is up to something. Is this screenshot even legible? Well, if you can't read it, computers can.

*dp hesitantly crawls up to their phone, curiously pawing at the device and feigning ignorance as though they don't know what the fuck it is because theyre kind of embarrassed to talk to the sprite^2 they know is at the other end*

Hm. What's "sprite^2" would be at "the other end" and not there. Jasprose? I guess it's basically only Jasprose it could be.

Oh shit I was able to guess which of the one possible people it could've been. I'm a fucking genius. This is why people read my liveblog, for the glaring insights that only I provide. Second question: Where the fuck is she? That background kind of makes me think of the Midnight Crew, but like the original Problem Sleuth bonus comics that introduced them where they were in some Problem Sleuth-y looking city.

Sort of interesting that Jasprose and Davepeta apparently don't like each other. Jasprose's main character trait in HS1 was being uninhibited and kind of uncomfortably horny, and she's Davepeta's....um....cousin? I guess? Where did I put that Homestuck family tree. Oh, I didn't add her, lemme do that.

The most cursed thing about this chart is that it's simplified.

The reason Vrissy's in "adoption jail" was because I made this chart for someone complaining that Vrissy dating Tavvy was incestuous, when Vrissy is basically the only character not related to anyone (this blog's tagline was "It's not incest if she's from space" for a bit as a result). Which makes this ironic because I think the reason Davepeta doesn't like Jasprose is that Jasprose keeps trying to fuck them.

Hey, I was right, it was the Problem Sleuth bonus comics.

One thing that's been bugging me a lot about HS2 and the epilogues is Homestuck already had a metaphor for canon in the form of the Alpha Timeline, and HS2 never really separated "canon" from "the alpha timeline" in a meaningful way, but now we're having the snapchat comics and the Problem Sleuth bonus comics references as "canonically deniable", so we're actually doing something new with the concept.

"Tall, dark, and loathsome" is the name of a song in the Midnight Crew: Drawing Dead album, so it's likely Jack Noir. The "Crocker Patriarch" is weird though. It can't be Jake, and Jane's dad is de-

Wait, hold on. Is this referring to the bonus comics? Dad Crocker is chasing after Jane who was kidnapped by Jasprose....but that's all in Meat! So this Jasprose is currently with the Meat version of Jane Crocker, being chased by Dad, Diamonds Droog, and possibly Problem Sleuth, and is somehow able to interact with Candy.

Maybe it's because Jaspers barely had any lines, but it's interesting how Jasprose is a unique individual with her own unique quirks while Davepeta is still very clearly Dave+Nepeta. She doesn't really talk like Rose at all. She's a little flowery in her language, but in a very different way.

Davepeta: Jasprose....you've been drinking? Jasprose: Please. You know it's only milk bars for me. Well, perhaps the occasional martini bar. Though with them, it's more difficult to find bartenders that won't bat an eye when I order a glass of that delectable matronal ambrosia Jasprose: Speaking of, I've made fantastic progress with the enchanting, yet problematic Ms. Crocker.

Man, that leap from "matronal ambrosia" to Jane Crocker is one of the most convoluted boob jokes I've ever seen. Speaking of, Jasprose finds Jane "enchanting". I kind of want to re-read the bonus comics to refresh myself on the context but they're glitching the fuck out for me right now and also....aren't very good.

This is referring, presumably, to Meat Jake, who I don't think has appearing in HS2 at all so far, having been ditched in the epilogues. I honestly thought we wouldn't be seeing Meat Jane/Jake again. Also, "pass her off"? To whom?

Anyway apparently Davepeta thinks the "therapy shit" isn't working well. Interesting to see them dropping the wise mentor act a little here. They also make it sound like this is something they're being compelled to do. Jasprose notes that it's been four years in there and that being Vriska it'll probably take 4 more to make it 8 and Davepeta is all "Ha ha, can you imagine" so the final chapter is obviously going to start "4 years later". This was a fairly short little chapter with a ton to speculate on. The sprites are working together and they're maybe working with (or for) someone else that Jane is going to get passed off to. Who could that be, I wonder? Dirk's made reference to having agents on the outside, but why would the sprites work for him? It's not Al, who was actively opposed to this. Could it be....

I don't know to what extent real-life person Andrew Hussie is involved with Beyond Canon, but his fictional stand-in has been mostly absent outside of the bonus comics, and has not yet appeared on-screen, but considering that Al has been shown to be nigh-worshipful of the original comic, it'd be interesting for her and AH to interact.