#chronologically that does come first

[anthonycrowley]

also i understand why people are like Never Ever Start With Colour of Magic. i do. however that was the place for me to start because (as i have said many times in the past) one of the things i wanted to see was the evolution of terry’s style and humor in the first handful of books and oh my god you CAN. it’s great. i get it because if you don’t already know if you’ll like his voice the first book in particular (and if i was being more generous probably first three books) are not a good introduction or example of what a discworld novel is. however if you know you like his writing from. other projects. and you know the overall themes and motifs of the stories and know that those themes sort of evolved over time there’s really no problem and actually i see a lot of benefits of it. not to say that the general suggestion should change from ‘pick a plotline that looks interesting to you and then spider out from there’ but i do think it was funny that i was like ‘i’m gonna go chrono :)’ and the kneejerk reaction from some people was like BUT. my brother in christ do you think i don’t know your arguments.

[kitchensinksurrealism]

that period of time between south park post covid being announced in 2021 to summer 2022 when everyone got obsessed with truffula flu was moderately heavenly

[dreamofmourning]

im reading jean valentine again and this is crazy to me

taking it out of context obviously, but framing it as though it would be the not knowing this other person that killed you, not whatever it was that you couldn't survive alone, is so exactly how i think about this whole thing

[bruciemilf]

Still very haunted by the idea of a young! Justice League AU.

They come across each other with an intentional, common goal. It feels like coincidence, but it also doesn’t. It’s destiny at work.

When Clark is 18, spoon-fed good manners, tall like a tree who thinks it’s a flower, sunshine laughing in his blood, he gently carries two cows back in the barn when he hears it.

Buildings decomposing. Faint, blaring cars dying. Soft whispers of ‘please please— oh god — I don’t want to die— what is that? What is that?!’

Metropolis cracks open. There’s a wound in the sky the police, the army, cannot heal. He tried calling. No one picked up.

It’s wide and scary and red and bleeds violently and Clark is so scared — but if he can survive being Perry White’s intern, he can survive this.

He grabs his Pa’s red flannel, ties it across his midsection, and flies faster than fear.

Clark learns two things that day.

1) He hits good, but he can’t throw a punch to save his life.

2) The scariest boy in the world has eyes that could make oceans cry.

Dressed in tactical gear, cobalt blue, bat shaped symbol drawn in neon across his chest. Runny eyeliner, smudged, mixed in stale blood running down his temple.

Glare so strong it could bury God.

The Bat carries an injured civilian on his back and two kids under his arms. Looks at Clark like someone seeing a shooting star for the first time.

Clark’s heart caves in on itself. Say something cool.

“I like your — blood.”

Clark hopes the next alien thing leaking from that gaping hole puts him out of his misery.

The boy blinks.

“How hard can you hit?”

Clark gulps. He gets a truck thrown at him and he stops it with one hand. He doesn’t even look at it.

“Pretty hard.”

—-

Barry Allen doesn’t arrive into battle. He trips into it.

Fifteen. Physics homework slams against settling air when he stops. Blur of red and shaking like a live wire. His sneakers light up when he walks.

“Hi! I’m Barry! Does anyone have a granola bar?”

Bruce blinks. He hands him one from the emergency compartment.

“Did everyone see that thing?! I mean — you can’t really miss it, I saw it from my house and thought ‘oh that’s weird I better go check it out’ and — IS THAT BLOOD?!”

Bruce, flat, “Not ours. Entirely.”

“Oh, okay. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. “

Clark — carefully — moves Barry out of the way so he doesn’t get impaled by a car. Barry screams.

—-

Hal Jordan, 17 and 4 months, is five bad jokes in aviator glasses and holds the world by his teeth.

He sees Metropolis burn from Jupiter.

He inherited a dying wish from a good man, got chosen by a purpose three times bigger than him, and begs the council to go.

They have to debate first.

Hal can’t sit around to decide if this is the day he’s gonna be brave.

He crashes into battle like a green meteor, blasts Britney Spears from his ring (the battle remix), and pretends he’s not rotting with fear.

“Green Lantern, willing and able! No need to panic, people! Coast City represent! Let’s GOOOO— IS THAT A BROKEN LEG?!”

Bruce, half his face shielded by Kevlar, swallows a molar. “Fractured.”

Hal throws up a little. Clark cries. Barry looks a sugar rush away from exploding.

“You call yourself Green Lantern?” Bruce raises a brow, like he’s speaking to the human version of a typo.

“Yeah? What do you call yourself? Nickelback and Trauma?”

“The Bat.”

“…Man? Boy? Customised?”

“I can’t call myself Batman yet. If I do it now, it won’t be chronologically accurate.”

—

Oliver Queen, 17, watches it on the news.

He’s got a meeting at 11, a tan at 1, a court hearing for punching a senator at 3, and a half broken bow from last night’s patrol.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to die if he goes.

He knows he’ll regret it more if he doesn’t.

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Clark takes a breath, raises two fists he doesn’t know what to do with, and looks up to a dying sky like he’s begging it to last longer. He doesn’t answer.

He just looks at Bruce, summer blue eyes wide, fear melted over.

“I’m not hitting until you do.”

So Bruce does.

—-

A girl, taller than all of them, older than all of them, grin sharper than her sword, pierces through battle like she has war on a leash.

Diana is 18, — in their years. She kills three aliens in under a minute.

Covered in guts and glory and sunny, walks up to them like nothing.

“We will fight together, yes?”

They all nod, a bit too scared of finding out what happens if they don’t.

[prythianpages]

The Mark You Left Behind | Eris Masterlist

Eris x Reader ft. Azriel | Eris breaks your heart, unaware that you’re carrying his child. Now, both of you are left to grapple with the consequences of his actions, as your lives spiral in unexpected directions.

warnings: angst, hidden pregnancy, (other warnings will be specified by part)

a/n: The title is inspired by the song Que No Quede Huella (a classic), which is why the banner has the spanish lyrics. These parts are listed in chronological order. The parts with ৡ are kind of like bonus parts. For better context, I do recommend reading this starting with I. Stuck.

(I will say this will most likely be a set of fics/drabbles that center around a story but not necessarily a plot? Idk if this makes sense. Basically me writing a series but without the full detailed commitment? I'm just happy that after dealing with a rough writer's block, I'm actually getting the inspo/urge to write something.)

ৡ you're first fight with Eris | though this takes place before all of these, it's best if you read this after some context from the ones below.

ৡ Jealousy, Jealousy | Eris finds himself comforting you after a failed attempt at a courtship.

ৡ Down To You | The more Eris lets you in, the more he finds himself being pushed and pulled into feelings he's scared to accept. aka the beginning of it all

ৡ Nothing's New | Eris finds you right after under the mountain.

ৡ Tell Me I've Been Lied To | Eris didn't know that three simple words could change the course of your lives.

I. Stuck | After breaking your heart, Eris thinks you have moved on.

II. Think of You | Eris is unaware of how wrong he was. You're still picking up the pieces of your shattered heart. You find that it does not matter how far you distance yourself from Eris, a part of him will always be with you.

III. Something I Wait For | You're still overridden with stress over your unexpected pregnancy when an unexpected guest turns up at Day Court.

IV. Silver Soul | Azriel finds himself meddling in your business.

V. Lost in the Dark | Eris wants you back in Autumn. Meanwhile, you find yourself confiding in Azriel.

here is a little meme/post I made over one of the scenes from pt V.

VI. How Did We Get Here? | Things get heated at the High Lord's meeting and Azriel accidentally lets something slip.

VII. Protect Me From What I Want | After finding out you're carrying his child, Eris makes a sudden & unexpected visit to Day Court.

VIII. I'd Be There | Growing desperate in his search for you, Eris reaches out to Lucien, only to be settled over with more worry. sneak peak kinda

IX. If Only | Azriel is there to comfort you after taking you away from Day Court. aka your pov after pt VII

ৡ And It's All In My Head | Eris has a nightmare.

X. Come Back To Me | Experiencing some pregnancy complications, Azriel is left with no choice but to seek out Eris for help.

XI. So Much To Prove | Feeling much better now, you begin to crave Autumn pastries and find yourself missing home.

XII. No One Like You | Eris and you finally talk.

XIII. Untitled | still brainstorming some ideas but this might involve the part in ACOSF where Eris gets kidnapped by that angry queen

ৡ moodboard

fire gremlin | 2 |

series taglist: @kodafics , @shinyghosteclipse, @marrass, @posierosie, @solanaaaaaaa

@tele86, @bubybubsters, @k-homosapien, @mariaxliliana, @kathren1sky-blog

@anainkandpaper, @icey--stars, @moonlovefairy, @hellohauntedturnstudent, @lucia-valentinaa,

@wrenisrad, @smol-grandpa, @sleepylunarwolf, @63angel, @anuttellaa

@anon1227 @paleidiot @thatacotargirl, @queenoffeysand , @slut4acotar @awkardnerd

@blueroseava , @lovetia , @historygeekqueen , @idk1027 ,@naturakaashi

@blightyblinders , @wolvesnravens , @galaxystern08 , @faeofthemoonandstars , @antisocial-architect

@elisha-chloe, @cwallace02sblog, @randomramblesfanfiction, @moonlitlavenders, @booksnwriting

@sunny1616, @holb32, @gamarancianne, @daemyratwst, @ratgirl2020 @balufy

if you asked to be on the tag list & don't see your name here or on my general one, pls let me know! I'll keep track of them here.

[evanhereonearth]

The Insidious Cycle of the Abuser Who Says They Love You: Mythal and Solas

Likely goes without saying, but Veilguard spoilers all under the jump.

I have been absolutely wrecked by the end scenes in Veilguard for weeks now, and I want to do a deep dive into Solas's relationship with Mythal and how it absolutely reeks of abuse. Long post incoming!

CW for heavy discussion of cycles of abuse, trauma response, and abuse tactics.

When I finished my first playthrough, this moment hit me like an absolute freight train. His visceral response to her presence and the way he instinctively retreats and flinches back/puts out a hand to protect himself is a full-blown trauma response.

And then she starts talking and moving towards him, and it gets worse.

Solas curls in on himself; his body goes even further into self-protection mode. His face is downcast, not the way he bowed to his vhenan moments before with a straight back and open posture, but shrinking.

And then as she advances, he cowers.

He completely folds inward. He crumples; he shakes, he hyperventilates, and the moment she reaches for him, he fumblingly offers her the lyrium dagger to kill him with.

Is this shame? Yes, of course, but it's far, far more than that.

For the sake of brevity, I'm going to limit this list to the four most widely recognised trauma responses:

Fight

Flight

Freeze

Fawn

As someone whose primary trauma response is fawn (wooo CPTSD), which is intensely common among people who experience complex trauma, especially through emotional and prolonged physical/mental abuse where their needs are discarded, pushed aside, or otherwise steamrolled, I felt this right alongside Solas. My own body responded to seeing it. This is, quite frankly, one of the most visceral and realistic (and extreme) fawn responses I've seen depicted in media.

Mythal in this scene is...phew, something else.

"She was the best of them," Solas tells us in Trespasser.

But she was not good, everything tells us in Veilguard.

Let's look at his regrets in chronological order.

Through Solas's memories of regret, we see this germinate in his foundational regret: leaving the Fade to take a physical form.

He does not want to do this. He tells her he does not want to do this. From the conversation, it's clear it's not the first time she's asked.

And the way she asks? Outright coercion.

"You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it?" [I want you to do this thing, so I will frame it as logical for you to make the choice I want you to make.]

"But I have no desire to live as humans. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form. I think you underestimate the danger." [I don't want to do that. It does not feel safe to me.] "When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake?" [This is dangerous and selfish.]

"The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade; we are the best of both physical and Fade." [It makes us powerful, so I don't care about the risks.] "I need your wisdom, Solas, to withstand the louder voices like Elgar'nan's who would go too far." [If you do not come with me, a tyrant you abhor will make others suffer.] "I need you."

"This is madness. You must know that." [I don't want to do this at all. This will hurt me. I don't want this.] "I will always follow where you go." [Because I love you and trust you.]

Mythal's words in this part are classic abusive framing. When appealing to his natural curiosity does not work and he expresses strong rejection of her logical thought process (just because I have observed this place does not mean I want to go there, echoing his comments to the Inquisitor in DAI: "Many Orlesian peasants dream of travelling to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain!") and expresses that there is significant danger to continue to build bodies out of lyrium, she changes tactics.

Her second tactic is that it gives them power--she implies that he is limited and not enough for being only of the Fade. If he follows her, he will be the best of both, like she is. She clearly already sees herself as above him.

Her third tactic is pure emotional blackmail: "I need you. I will give in to the tyrants without your wisdom, and having your counsel in the Fade is not enough. If you don't go against your own nature and desires, people will suffer...and it will be your fault for not being by my side."

She doesn't say those things outright, but they are implied by everything she is saying. He says again he doesn't want it--that it is madness and that she must be aware of that despite her ignoring any suggestion that she actually is. All she is seeing is power and her desires: for Solas to do what she wants him to do.

So he agrees. Because she is his friend, and she says she needs him.

As far as core wounds go, this one is a doozy. It's absolutely brutal, because it's irrevocable. It's a point of no return. It's the first in what will become millennia of regret, of her ignoring the Wisdom she coerced out of the Fade to do what she wants regardless, to continue to push him to twist his nature under the guise of the greater good, to continue to cede to Elgar'nan and enable the very tyrants she promised him to balance.

This regret was deeply painful for me to watch. The nuance here is easily lost if people don't understand abuse tactics and how this sort of manipulation is used. It also serves to bind Solas to Mythal, an enormous sunk cost fallacy in the making--once he has made this choice, there is no going back.

And you see Solas curled in on himself in anguish and regret from the trauma of taking a physical form. It is in deep, painful contrast to his open, free wingspan as a spirit of Wisdom; he will never be the same.

"Have you created what we need?" From the outset Mythal is framing this as his idea as much as hers, when from everything he says, that is not true.

"With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its spirit. But you must know, those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad, a disembodied blight of pain and anger. It--is--awful what we are doing."

"And the only way to end this war."

Again, Solas offers the wisdom she claimed she took him from the Fade to listen to. He warns her, again, of the danger. He does not want to do this. Just like he warned her of the earth quaking when they made their bodies--they, the Evanuris, started this war by taking what they wanted regardless of who it hurt. He never wanted to participate in it, but now he is in the middle of that war. Mythal was one of the initial perpetrators of this war; she brought Solas into it against his will because he loved her, and now he's stuck. He is past his point of no return. And she is still using his heart against him. She has isolated him from everyone he knew in the Fade; he has no one to support him. He. Only. Has. Her.

This is another classic abuse tactic; if the person being abused has no one else, they will continue to enable that abuse even if it harms others, because they cannot see a way out. If you don't do what I say, it will destroy our children, our family. If you don't do what I say, this war will consume all you have, and you no longer have a home to return to. If you don't do what I say and hurt yourself and the Other, more will suffer, and it will be your fault.

Again, his posture, curled up and broken, appearing to cradle a now-tranquil Titan beneath him--and be embraced in return. This is an interesting artistic choice here, one that aches. It speaks to the depth of his own wound and how much it rent his own spirit to follow through with Mythal's wants here; that it sundered him from his spirit as much as it did the Titans.

"You cannot do this, Elgar'nan! You swore we would give up our commands when this war was over!"

"Our people need our leadership. If you are unwilling, leave."

From Elgar'nan, this is expected. From Mythal?

"Our people must rebuild. And we must help unite them."

Solas, once again, betrayed. He put his trust in Mythal and in the other Evanuris to follow through with their promise. Everything he has done thus far is poisoned in this moment; had the Evanuris indeed stepped back rather than stepped on necks, perhaps Solas could have healed, found a way to live with what he had done, maybe even to make amends. But this starts his war anew--and Mythal is standing with his enemy despite her promises, despite every wheedling word she's used to get what she wants from him over the centuries and longer, despite him turning from everything, everything, he loved to love her. This is the moment where he understands that he has only been a tool to her all along.

"So we did not fight for freedom, but to conquer this land and our own."

Let's pick apart Solas's words.

So we did not fight for freedom: He truly believed that he was fighting for freedom, that no matter how bad it got, that he could bear it for freedom.

But to conquer this land: Literally the land, I think, because of the Titans. To subdue them at all costs. This was not what he came for, but he believed Mythal.

And our own: Our own, our people, more spirits we gave bodies for this war, more who may not have wanted to leave the Fade. Our own, our people. To Solas, he is one of them. In this moment, he realises how much Mythal holds herself above all of them.

Elgar'nan's words are all too telling: "We fought to win. And now the Evanuris are as gods. I do not answer to Mythal's annoying lapdog."

They all--all--see him thus. As her pet.

Because he is. She has, until now, controlled him utterly with her manipulation and "need" for him.

"The people are afraid. They must believe in something." Mythal does not even stand up for Solas here; she does not reject Elgar'nan's perception of him. All she does is further distance herself.

The people are afraid: The Evanuris made them. They are as controlled as Solas and more.

Elgar'nan asserts, "They need strength."

"And wisdom." Mythal has the absolute gall to attribute this to herself, when Solas is the source of the wisdom she "needed" for so long. (Belated addition: And another level here: she may also be saying again that she needs him, but doing so in a way that doesn't require her to stand up for him directly. Honestly, fucking gross.)

"They need gods who can protect them," Elgar'nan continues.

"We are not gods. You will learn that." Solas's voice here is pure defeat. The scales are falling from his eyes.

"Every lapdog holds a wolf inside," says Elgar'nan.

Solas knows that Elgar'nan's "protection" is hollow, based on subjugation. And I think in this moment, he learns that Mythal's is based only in her belief that she is better than those beneath her, who cannot possibly handle themselves.

So her lapdog becomes the Wolf.

"I was not certain you would come."

Solas's opening words in this regret show the distance between them already and how much he has realised he does not know this woman who called herself his friend.

And her response is to instantly blame him.

"You are the one who walked away. I never turn my back when my friend needs me."

In putting this post together, this line absolutely sucker punched me. I've watched these several times already, but the absolute audacity to blame him for standing up for his principles for the first time against all her manipulation? Hoo.

She blames him for doing just that, "turning his back when his friend needed him." She needed her enabler, and when he stopped, she turned bitter. Just like any abuser.

That he goes straight into "The Evanuris seek the magic of the Blight" instead of engaging, honestly shows that he's still Wisdom. That is one battle that is unwinnable, trying to stand up against an abuser's bullshit like that.

"Impossible," she says. "The Blight is safely sealed away forever."

Gaslight, girl boss, gatekeep.

"Though I wish I could believe you." [You have lied to me so many times.] "I have sensed the breaking of the wards."

And her answer is patronising. "I will investigate your claims." [I don't believe you.] "If they forget the danger of the Blight, I will endeavour to remind them."

Solas knows this is futile. "What if, instead, you left the Evanuris and remained with me? Do you not wish for freedom from this struggle?"

He asks her, again, to veer from the dangerous path. He desperately wants to believe he was not completely wrong about her, I think. If she were to leave, he could heal somewhat, for not having so thoroughly misjudged her character.

Am I enough for you? Was I ever enough? is the unspoken question here when he asks if she will remain with him.

And in return, he gets back even more patronising bullshit and hubris. "Be at peace, love. I will stop them."

(Can you tell Mythal pisses me off?)

She calls him love. What an unbearable insult after everything, to go on telling him she cares for him whilst ignoring his wisdom--the very wisdom she coerced him into leaving the Fade so she would have by her side--and consolidating her own power at the expense of his people.

"As you must," he says. "The Blight is our mistake."

Might be unpopular, but I do not think Solas bears a split fifty-fifty custody for whose fault the Blight is. Could he have said no about the dagger? Could he have pushed then? Maybe. But by this point, he'd already had probable millennia of complex trauma and a deeply abusive codependent relationship, probably also a level of magical bond. Like, sorry, Trick and BioWare, if you want to retcon everything you shared with us in Inquisition about being in service to the Evanuris ("You have given yourself into the service of an ancient elven god! You are Mythal's creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her.") AND Mythal casually overriding her servants' will and Solas burning her vallaslin off his face and leaving a scar and devoting himself to freeing the elven people from the Evanuris's domination, fine, but I don't buy it. Even if there was no magical compulsion on him all this time, that is immaterial.

Complex trauma literally rewires the brain to survive. She spent lifetimes programming him, isolating him, stripping from him every bit of agency he had. This man did not have the capacity to say no.

When our no is trampled even for a few months or years, we stop trying to use it. We comply. We, as mortal humans, cannot begin to comprehend the compounded trauma of millennia of this happening with the stakes of worlds in the balance. Solas, quite simply, has lost the entire ability to consent. No one of us can even imagine.

Yet he managed to walk away from her somehow, when she chose Elgar'nan. This man is stronger than anyone gives him credit for.

The dagger was clearly Mythal's idea. The plan to sever the Titans from their dreams, clearly her idea. To end the war. For there to be "peace". For there to be "freedom". Except that never came.

His loyalty was to her and to their people; hers was only ever to herself.

And again, she walks away and lets Solas suffer.

What a good friend.

[screaming from the general direction of Scotland]

She put her trust in monsters instead of her oldest friend, and the monsters ate her face.

Anyone surprised? I'm surprised. (I'm not surprised.)

And on top of this, Mythal finally, finally giving Solas one tiny breadcrumb that she had any principles remaining? I think that cemented his bindings to her forever. Not just that the Evanuris killed her, but why they killed her: because after millennia, she listened to him.

For someone that deep into trauma and abuse? Well. We know what happened.

It cannot be overstated that with his imprisonment of the Evanuris and the Blight, Solas saved the entire world. The entire world. Every living being in Thedas had a chance at life because of him. Only because of him.

Morrigan says it early on in the game, that for all the consequences of the veil (which, it also must be said, was not supposed to be global!), "his imprisonment of the Evanuris was just. Had he not done so, all of Thedas would have fallen to the Blight."

And the world has hated him for it.

He woke after sleeping for millennia, exhausted by this immense act of magic, to discover that not only had it gone horribly wrong, but that it had cost his people everything. That Tevinter had come in and enslaved them, released a trickle of the Blight after breaking into the Black City, used so much blood magic that the veil itself all over Thedas has been in tatters--not least because in releasing the Blight, the survivors had had to face down and kill the dragon thralls (archdemons) of the Evanuris, rendering five out of seven of them mortal, and with their deaths over the intervening centuries, the veil had grown threadbare with only two Evanuris sustaining it.

The risks were catastrophic, the price unbearable.

Everything he'd ever done to protect the world could still come crashing down...and in a sick twist of fate, he would be alive to see it.

And, shockingly, so would Mythal.

Mythal, whose fragment has just been chilling in a swamp for centuries in human form. Mythal, whose abuse of him lasted through the entirety of the world's history. Mythal, who, due to the Evanuris's betrayal and her abusee's abandonment, has become little more than retribution.

Mythal, who could have set him free at any point in all this time and didn't, because he was hers.

Mythal, who is the only remaining person with the power to do what he feels must be done.

I find it interesting that they chose not to use the post-Inquisition dialogue at all. Interesting also that they used Mythal's voice actor and not Flemeth's. This feels like a retcon, but we'll go with it. Whatevs.

"I knew that you would find me soon enough. You need the power of a god, the strength that I alone still carry."

She's still asserting her own godhood.

He's not having it. "The blighted Evanuris will soon break free from their prison. I must make a stronger one that can contain them."

He's not wrong. Not even a little bit wrong. And he's also right that she won't help him. Why would she? She never has.

"While the prison is important, it is not the only goal you seek."

"Why should I not tear down the veil? And bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it."

And this is where I get even more raging, because Mythal's answer is this: "The elven people of today do not deserve to see the world they love torn apart to salve your conscience."

I'm sorry, what?

The world they love? The world that has offered them nowt but literal genocide for thousands of years? The world where in Tevinter, they're chattel slaves and worse, fuel for blood magic without a thought? The world where in the "civilised", slaveless nations to the south, they're either confined to alienages and subjected to repeated genocide (that's what a "purge" is, if anyone isn't clear on that) or the remnants of the Dales, who are the descendents of another enormous genocide? The world where elven magic has been pillaged but elven mages in human settlements are confined to Circles and abused or made tranquil or also genocided by Templars invoking the Rite of Annulment? The world where they're called "elf savage" and "rabbit" and "knife ear" and cannot participate in Thedosian religious life because the Chantry erases every instance of elves from even the Chant of Light? The world where it took the Inquisitor installing a perpetrator of genocide on the Orlesian throne (both Celene AND Gaspard fit this bill) and either having Celene reconcile with Briala (Briala and Celene's relationship could be a whole other post. Boak.) and blackmailing them to give a single elf lands and a title? That world????

What the fuck, Mythal, die faster.

I got real mad there for a second. I'm fine. I'm fine!

Solas, once more, simply says, "I must fix what I have broken. I am sorry."

More than she deserves, frankly. Man's a mess, but at least he tries. She's been chilling in a swamp and pulling puppet strings for ages and abusing her kids. Nudging history like it's some sort of hobby, because it has always just been pieces on a board to her. They have never been people in her eyes like they are in his.

"As am I, old friend."

Aye, get tae fuck. Friends don't treat friends the way you treated Solas. The closest thing to an apology Solas will ever get from her is that she pretty much just lies down and dies when he comes to kill her. And she still won't set him free before he does. Has to continue to twist her own knife.

This scene has me riled.

And this takes us back to the beginning of this post.

To her essence showing up to release him from her service.

In what is, to me, the least accountable, bare minimum non-apology (she never actually says she's sorry) I've had the displeasure to witness in a videogame, with Solas literally cowering before her and offering her a knife to kill him with since this is the first time he's seen her actual, non-Flemythal face since she died.

This was never a friendship of equals. Ever.

She got one thing right. She did break him. But she knew it all this time, and she never took a single step to put it right until pushed. Her corner of the Crossroads, which he built for her in the desperate hope that she would show a glimmer of the friend he believed she was, notably has a pair of wolf statues. Both beheaded.

She's spent all this time punishing him further.

He never went to visit her? I wouldn't either. I could not blame him.

This has gone to an angry place. So let's conclude with what is, I think, the entire point.

Grace.

"I lied. I betrayed you."

"I forgive you."

Has anyone--anyone--in all his long life, ever said those words to him?

I'll say that again: has anyone--ANYONE--in all his millennia of existence, EVER said those words to him?

I forgive you.

Mythal certainly didn't.

The world certainly didn't.

He has shouldered all the blame of an entire pantheon, a war that broke the world, a blight, everything, always, and while people have come alongside him to help him, I am not sure anyone (certainly not anyone he cares about) has given him the grace of forgiveness.

The beauty of this final scene for me wasn't just Ilaana, wasn't just Ilaana reuniting with the man she has loved for a decade who has spent all that time pushing her away so he couldn't--in his mind--inevitably poison the love of the only person who has seen his spirit and cherished it without twisting him.

It was the slow realisation that Rook trusted his love enough to try.

It was Morrigan, who carries all Mythal's memories and her own of Flemythal's abuse and machinations, who responds to Rook's question about her views of Solas with: "Or do you mean to discover if I would stand directly against the Dread Wolf, were there a need? I shall aid you in any way but that. What has passed between Solas and Mythal...I beg you: do not ask this of me again."

Morrigan knows. She will not raise a hand against him. She will not try to stop him. She will let the veil fall. She will not fight with Rook. Because she knows this being whose memories she holds has harmed him enough.

Solas, in these final moments, even before Mythal shows up to gut punch him, realises all these people have somehow, somehow, banded together to help him.

Not work for him.

Not be his agents.

Not worship him.

Not follow him blindly.

To help him. To help Solas. To help him, after all this time, take the first steps towards himself. Towards his own essence, so long twisted into something he never sought or wanted.

The Inquisitor and Morrigan certainly understand what it's like to be seen only as the symbol others raise in your image. Rook will learn that someday, but is still naive.

But even with that naivete, willing. Present. Able to put aside being a chess piece on his board. Able to see that they would never have succeeded without his help. Able to trust two people who know him better than they ever will.

Able to offer him grace.

And when they produce Mythal's essence, how that must brutalise him; to think that perhaps all this has been to let his abuser kill him back. He clearly thinks that's what's happening. He breaks. He fawns. He offers her the blade that has caused so much pain.

Her release of him is the bare minimum she owes him. I've already railed about that.

What is transcendent here, transformative--it is the mortals.

The mortals offering grace to a god who never wanted to be a god.

It's them together showing him a way out of an endless cycle of trauma and abuse. No one of them alone is enough. Without Rook, they wouldn't have Mythal's essence; Morrigan can't go get it, and she can't do what is needed because she's not actually Mythal, only has her memories. Without Morrigan, who can stand there with those memories but from the compassionate perspective of someone who has watched them in horror from the outside. She's far from objective, but she can do this one thing to help.

Without the Inquisitor (romanced or not, still someone he let know him as he most desperately wanted to be known--the Fade-walker, the Dreamer, the humble mage who desperately needed a friend). The Inquisitor, who kneels before him to comfort him. Who sees his hurt and responds.

If romanced, without Lavellan, who kneels to repeat back words he once shouted at the Nightmare in the Fade after Adamant.

"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ema mar din." (Speak, traitor. Your victory was fruitless. Your pride gives way only to your death.)

To which Solas replied, "Banal nadas."

On the surface, nothing is inevitable, but can also be taken to mean that nothingness is inevitable, entropy, the final void. (Thanks to Dumped, Drunk, and Dalish for this excellent long post on this scene.)

And here is Lavellan, kneeling beside him with those words. "Banal nadas ar lath, ma vhenan."

Nothing is inevitable but the love we share, my heart.

I see everything you are, all you have done, and I love you. I forgive you for the pain you have caused me. I understand, see, and forgive.

No one has ever shown him grace like this.

Ever.

And Solas, this shattered man, sobs.

He sobs.

Someone has taken the trouble to isolate his voice in the video. This man has nothing left. And, after millennia of this trauma cycle repeating over and over, he is finally free to make the choice he wants to make. It's not the outcome he wants; that has to be said. He doesn't want to leave the veil up. He doesn't want to be bound into prison forever with no hope of seeing the world he fought for ever return.

But he is done.

In the Fade after Adamant, there is a cemetery with the worst fears of every companion scriven on shrines and stones. Solas's is dying alone.

After all of this, he is willing to face just that--and would, if not for her.

She knows his deepest fears. She has faced the demon Mythal made of the man she loves. She has given unwitting comfort to the spirit of Wisdom still within. She has seen his sweetest self. Nurtured him, cherished him, and has been nurtured and cherished in return.

Does she want to leave the world behind and spend eternity in a Fade prison? Probably not her first choice. It's not my Ilaana's; she has been on his side all this time, dreaming of a world where the spirits she loves can be reunited with the world in peace and ready to make that happen.

But it was not supposed to happen this way. It did happen this way anyway.

He has sacrificed everything--everything--including his own spirit self, his soul, his life. How could she not offer him what no one ever has? A friend forever, a lover willing to walk the din'an shiral by his side, a companion to ward off the forever alone.

Together, the two of them can begin to heal, with their counterpart who has always seen through the burdens of the world to the soul within.

This is the only thing I've ever had any faith in. Grace I know you carry us Grace And it was such a mess Grace I don't say it enough Grace You are so loved

[what-even-is-thiss]

Hello I know almost nothing about assassins creed but I know a few things about costume design and history so I’m gonna look at all the assassins creed box art/default outfits of the various protagonists and take a look at their inspiration, practicality, and rough historical accuracy.

I’m gonna go in chronological order by time period just to be an ass about it

Alexios and Kassandra, Greece, 400s-ish BC

They put boobs on Kassandra’s version which immediately puts them on my shit list. That makes the armor easier to pierce because it gives blades a convenient slide towards the center of your chest.

Those concerns aside though, I haven’t really seen an armored torso piece with this exact design but the historical inspiration is clearly there. I’ve got no real issue with the Spartan helmet.

They’ve got a belt for a purse but no purse. And normally I wouldn’t criticize that because they could be keeping their weapons there but they’ve got an embarrassment of belts here. They’re also wearing red which is a fairly expensive color compared to yellow or blue or something but whatever it does look pretty cool

Looks pretty good, has the period vibe even if it’s not accurate, and is relatively appropriate attire for a soldier for hire, if a bit flashy. 8/10 broken spears

Bayek, Egypt, 49 BC

No offense but I think that this man saw into the future and witnessed both a hot topic circa 2008 and a 20th century orientalist depiction of the Middle East and tried to recreate both of them with what he had lying around.

So the collar thing seems to be based on actual Egyptian armor but it looks leather instead of metal. I don’t know what his weird menstruation skirt is supposed to be or why he’s wearing pants. During this point in Ptolemaic Egypt I’m not sure anyone would’ve even heard of pants unless they’d heard stories from the far north.

As far as practicality goes I mean he’s guarded from the sun I suppose. He’s got gloves for handling his eagle. I can’t tell what his clothes are made out of. If they’re made of cotton or linen he might stay cool but if some of that is leather like I think it is he’s not gonna be comfortable in there.

I would criticize all of those belts again but at this point I think they might be holding his outfit together. I don’t wanna dignify this one with a rating.

Basim Ibn Ishaq, Baghdad, Abbasid Caliphate, 800s AD

So the armor I mostly don’t have a problem with. It’s a bit short but it’s clearly based on actual period designs so I’ll let it go. Even if it does commit the sin of too many belts.

The assassin outfit… confuses me. Makes me conflicted. So around that time there were a lot of different colors and patterns available for fabric however he’s gotta keep with the white outfit aesthetic. I get it. He’s also got a cute pop of blue in there. His outfit is flowy and loose fitting and will keep out the sun. That fits the time period vibe.

However this guy would still stick out like a sore thumb. First of all, random armor pieces. Second of all, too many belts. Third of all, there were so many things you could’ve done with turbans in this setting? And veils? There was and is still a style of wearing a turban where you leave part of it hanging off the side or back and so many things could’ve been done with that to cleverly and mysteriously obscure his face.

There’s potential here but I do deeply wish that potential had actually been used. 3/10 houses of wisdom

Eivor, Norway & England, late 800s AD.

This protagonist comes in both boy and girl flavor and for once the outfits match. I appreciate that.

This person also has an actual purse to go with their embarrassment of belts and the underlying tunic and pants at least have the general vibe of being period accurate.

As for their armor though, they either aren’t wearing any or they have some secret chainmail under their tunic. And those random bracers that don’t look particularly Viking.

Their little fur cape there would probably be warm but also wouldn’t function great as a cape. Or as a blanket.

Weirdly historically accurate but also not accurate at all. Kinda extra. Kinda like it though. Looks warm. 9/10 ravens

Ezio, Italy and Ottoman Empire, 1400s AD

This is the og guy. Weirdly enough unlike many of his successors he doesn’t actually have an unreasonable amount of belts.

What I will say in favor of this outfit is that the color and metalworking isn’t improbable for his time period. I mean they had the technology.

Everything else about it though? Uuuhhh idk where they got any of this. Collars in that style weren’t really much of a thing yet, that belt is huge, and hoods would’ve been more likely to be separate garments from the rest of your clothing. This guy looks badass this is a very compelling design but nothing about this dude screams renaissance Italy. If his goal is to remain hidden he’s going to have a very tough time. 6/10 da vinki paintings.

I’ve reached the image limit. I will finish this list in a later reblog.

[qiu-yan]

once again, instead of being a bitch on someone else's post, i'll keep my thoughts on my own blog.

i've seen people contrast yunmeng shuangjie by arguing that, while wei wuxian comes across as a rebel and jiang cheng comes across as highly mindful of social norms, in reality their social abilities are the opposite: that, in reality, it is wei wuxian who is socially apt and jiang cheng who is socially incapable.

for some fans, this then translates into political ability. these fans argue that it is wei wuxian and not jiang cheng who is capable of making connections.

come on now. this makes no sense. in fact, i'd go as far as to say that the story of MDZS as it is written is only possible if jiang cheng is actually better at making long-term connections - political connections - than wei wuxian.

certainly, wei wuxian is more personable and fun to interact with than jiang cheng; certainly, if everyone was a kid on a school playground, then most of the other kids would probably prefer to play with wei wuxian over jiang cheng. and yet, the world of MDZS is a bit more complicated than a school playground. wei wuxian might be more friendly and social than jiang cheng, but in no way does this translate to actual political ability.

it is true that wei wuxian most likely made a large number of friends at the cloud recesses lectures (such as one nie huaisang), before he was expelled for punching jin zixuan. one might then want to call these friendships future political connections. based on this, one might then expect that, after leaving yunmeng jiang to protect the wen remnants, wei wuxian would have some connections to cash in on.

and yet, this did not happen. where were these supposed "connections" when wei wuxian left yunmeng jiang to defend the wen remnants? where were these "connections" when wei wuxian was living in the burial mounds with no one but a bunch of escaped POWs, all for the sake of what was just? and where were these supposed "connections" when the entire cultivation world showed up on wei wuxian's doorstep, calling for his head?

the whole point of the first chronological half of the story is that wei wuxian stood alone. when wei wuxian chose to do what was right over what was easy, he stood alone. when wei wuxian chose to protect the innocent, he did so alone. and when wei wuxian refused to give up on the wen remnants, severing his single strongest political tie in the process - he ended up standing alone against the rest of the cultivation world. no one came to save him. no one even came to stand by him. none of the connections he made before his downfall as the yiling patriarch - save for one, which only stepped up after he died once - actually ended up lasting.

therefore, one can only conclude that, for all his friendliness and inherent likability, wei wuxian actually isn't all that great at forming and maintaining useful political connections. no matter how much people might like him at first, for almost everyone, he's ultimately too politically inconvenient to stand up for.

(funnily enough, the fact that almost all of wei wuxian's connections save a handful were fair-weather friends is highlighted by wei wuxian himself, in the following exchange during the second siege:

One of the cultivators standing at the forefront of the formation said, with bitter grief, “Wei Ying, you truly disappoint me. To think I used to admire and look up to you! I even said that, if nothing else, you were a founder, someone who established the first generation of your own sect. It’s almost nauseating, in retrospect. From now on, you and I stand in opposition!” Wei Wuxian was taken aback by this speech at first but then burst into hysterical laughter. “Ha ha ha ha….” He laughed so hard he could barely breathe. “You admired me? You say that, but why did I never see you, back when you admired me? And when everyone began to bay for my blood, you popped up waving your little flag to cheer in support!”

MDZS Seven Seas translation, Book 4, Chapter 18: Night Flight)

meanwhile, the plot of MDZS is fully impossible if jiang cheng is bad at making political connections. first, consider what happened right after the massacre of lotus pier: the golden core transfer happened, wei wuxian was thrown into the burial mounds, and then three months later jiang cheng and lan wangji found him again. by that point, jiang cheng had already called enough new disciples to his banner that yunmeng jiang was considered a contributor to the sunshot campaign. given that jiang cheng had literally no one by his side after the fall of lotus pier save jiang yanli, it is highly unlikely that jiang cheng would have been able to recruit this many new disciples if he had no interpersonal skills.

(one could potentially make the case that jiang yanli recruited the new disciples, but i find this difficult to believe. people in this time period would assess the strength of a political organization - one asking them to do something as dangerous as go to war for them - by the quality of that organization's leader. not by the quality of the leader's sister who would have inevitably married out of the organization. sucks to suck but that was how things worked back then.)

furthermore, jiang cheng rebuilt lotus pier. jiang cheng rebuilt lotus pier from literally nothing. some jc antis like to argue that wei wuxian contributed more to the rebuilding of lotus pier than jiang cheng, but this is absurd: wei wuxian was only around during the postwar period for 1-2 years at most before he left for the wen remnants, and a few years after that he was dead. after wei wuxian's defection, and then in the 13-year time period between wei wuxian's death and his resurrection, who was left in lotus pier? was in charge of lotus pier? who was running lotus pier so efficiently that, by the time of wei wuxian's resurrection, yunmeng jiang had gone from what wang lingjiao called a joke to one of the strongest sects in the jianghu?

of course - none other than jiang cheng.

this level of political rebuilding, for an organization that was literally decimated less than 20 years ago, is only possible if the leader of said organization is highly politically capable. during the 13 year timeskip, jiang cheng as yunmeng jiang's leader would have had to deal with rival sect leaders, make alliances with other sects, strike deals with other sects, and keep a constant awareness of the political landscape. all of this is only possible if jiang cheng is capable of making useful political connections. frankly, i think fans are putting too much emphasis on jiang cheng's surface-level mannerisms (which he also is only showing because wei wuxian is around, lbr), and too little focus on simple logic. if jiang cheng did not have the ability to make political connections, then yunmeng jiang would have collapsed.

it's easy to read MDZS and conclude, based on a surface-level analysis, that wei wuxian is better at making connections than jiang cheng. yet this take is at best shallow and at worst actively misses all the main points of the novel. for all his charisma, sociability, and wittiness, wei wuxian is actually not that socially apt - if he were, he and the wen remnants would not have died. and - for all of his snappishness, grumpiness, and irritability - jiang cheng is actually not a social klutz - if he were, yunmeng jiang would not have survived to see wei wuxian's resurrection.

the socially-apt underdog you're thinking of is jin guangyao.

(also, as an aside: nie huaisang did not mastermind wei wuxian's resurrection because he was, secretly all along, wei wuxian's ~great friend~ who was just so sad and disappointed about what happened to poor wei-xiong. it's a nice bit of fanon, but that's not what happened. nie huaisang masterminded wei wuxian's resurrection - 13 years after wei wuxian's death, i might add - because of wei wuxian's expertise. he needed someone with wei wuxian's specific expertise to both solve the nie mingjue dismembered corpse problem and to get revenge for him on jin guangyao. i don't know where bleeding heart huaisang came from, but it certainly wasn't canon.)

[hatethysinner]

papa remmick headcanons pleaseee 🥸🥺

ᴘᴀᴘᴀ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ ʜᴀɴᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

ᴀ/ɴ: these have been floating around in my head since i saw the movie so it'd be an understatement to say just how excited i am to share them! for simplicity's sake i only wrote about one daughter but let's be real remmick would have like 4. i genuinely have so many more ideas than this so if i get a lot of traction i'm def doing like 5 parts. tried to go in a chronological-ish order! if imagining hot fictional characters as fathers is my favorite pasttime does that make me crazy? i don't do taglists personally, so just follow me if you want to be updated when i post c:

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none, enjoy the cutest vampire mass murderer as the most devoted father in the world! i even made the setting and time period very vague because i absolutely refuse to terrorize this adorable family.

part 2!

first and foremost, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ could only be a girl dad. it is physically, spiritually, and cosmically impossible for this man to have sons. don't argue with me, argue with the universe.

from the start, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ was incredibly attentive. if his baby girl so much as shifted lightly in her crib, he was already standing over her before you could even stir.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ insisted on skin-to-skin contact at every opportunity. didn't care if he had to stay still for HOURS. and he would too.

“she’s settlin’ her heart,” he'd whisper, “and mine’s the drum she’s gonna know first.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ took her babbling dead seriously. would fold his arms, listen with furrowed brows, and nod as if absorbing the meaning of life.

talked to her constantly. about everything. you'd catch ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ engaging in full-on conversations with an infant.

“this right here’s nutmeg. we don’t touch that, ‘cause it’s strong. like your mama. now this is thyme. it teaches ya patience.” (he was very proud of that joke)

best believe ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ is singing to her if she won't go to sleep. real songs, not lullabies. low and soft. a little off key. a little too slow. and always with her name in the chorus.

if she trips over air, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ's already crouched beside her like a medic on a battlefield.

“where’s it hurt, baby? show me. papa’s got you.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ let her paint his nails. once. now it’s every saturday. sits there dead serious with one hand outstretched and the other holding a towel so she doesn’t drip.

says “gentle, baby” every time she pets a flower, every time she touches your face, every time she hugs his neck. because that’s how ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ taught her. love is gentle.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ never hid his vampiric features at home. she adores them. pokes at his fangs, tugs at his claws, stares into his eyes with not even a hint of fear. because there's no need to.

if she calls for ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ in the night, even once, he’s at her side with a glass of water, a fresh blanket, and at least four “ya okay, sugar?” before he even sits down.

when she gets sick, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ holds her all night with one hand pressed to her forehead and the other on her back like he can make her feel better just by staying still enough.

do not ever ask ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ to discipline his daughter. ten minutes later, you'll find the two of them on the porch swing sharing a pint of ice cream and laughing like nothing happened.

“i talked to her,” he’d say, mouth full of rocky road (🤭). “we came to an understandin’.” they did not.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ is a constant bragger. constant. mentions her name in every single conversation, so avoid casually talking to him at all costs.

“my baby just got straight a’s. first grade, top of her class. can ya believe that?”

does not play when it comes to styling her hair. to learn, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ sat on a little wooden stool for an entire afternoon under the careful eye of mama, focused like it was life of death. now he does them every sunday morning, and always ends with three sweet kisses.

“prettiest girl in the world. prettiest head of curls, too.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ felt left out of not having a bonnet (literally made this :( face) so he wears one too. unironically loves it.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ always needs a picture of his family. first day of school, new dress, vacation, playing in the yard, doesn't matter. wallet’s full of folded photos and his side of the bedroom’s a shrine. framed memories everywhere. his girls, always.

y'all ain't never met a man who throws down in the kitchen more than ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ does. bakes, grills, fries, sautés, and seasons like nobody's business. he's been alive for over a millennium, so half the meals he makes have long been forgotten by the world. and of course he's teaching his baby girl all his skills.

girl ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ runs the pta like it's the navy. absolutely zero tolerance for slackers. despite his authoritarian, almost hivemindlike (🤭) style, every event and fundraiser ends up being a major success

he's never and will never miss a single recital, play, spelling bee, science fair, honor roll ceremony, or any other event involving his baby. ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ will fight his way to the front row if he has to, and records the whole thing with his favorite video camera. every tape is labeled, dated, and stored with care. if the house is too quiet, he'll be watching reruns.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ ends every night the same. “ya know who loves ya?” he asks, real low.

and she says, every time, “you do, papa.”

and he answers, “damn right i do.” with his hand over his heart.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 reactions to "can you get this thing off the top shelf for me?"

inspired by @cod-dump's height hcs :)

chronologically:

you ask PRICE first. seems like a harmless enough question to you but he just says, "what kind of captain would i be if i solved all your problems for you?"

what the fuck, you think.

"you can do it," he says. "problem-solve. think tall thoughts."

then SOAP walks by, so you ask him next. he sees price standing there looking highly amused (and you looking highly irritated). soap would never, never miss an opportunity to cause problems on purpose, and if price is already picking on you, well...

you're relieved for half a second when soap reaches up and grabs the box you wanted. he opens it, grabs a handful of the granola inside (THAT YOU WANTED) and tosses it into his own mouth. then he puts the box back. on a higher shelf.

by the time GAZ notices what's happening, you're halfway climbing up the shelves to get it your damn self. he sees the shelves leaning away from the wall dangerously and obviously he pushes them back into place with one hand and pulls you back to the ground with the other. does not understand your exasperation with him; he was keeping you from cracking your head open??

so finally GHOST comes up behind you both and grabs the box you want. he turns. offers it to you. finally.

when you go to grab it from him, he keeps ahold of it and leans in. he would like you to share.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[junkdrawerfan]

Hey so actually I might be a little obsessed with how Tim is Dick’s only clearly defined brother.

Like let me explain. HEAR ME OUT!

Damian is Dick’s BABY! That is his firstborn! Dick might have had some adoption tendencies pre-crisis with Jason but they realized that shit with Dick’s (Second? Third?) time in the cowl. Dick saw this small murderous child and was like “I can do it better than Bruce” and did. And yes they might be settling into a brotherly role with Bruce stepping the fuck up.* But I promise you having witnessed siblings with a 10 year age gap — even when the parents are perfect and emotionally available — that older sibling quickly becomes a third parent. With Dick, he was the first second and third parent. No way Damian and Dick could ever just be brothers and I love that for them.

Dick’s relationship with Jason is full of regret and guilt. They might be building something now but their past is full of inflicting rotting wounds (metaphorical and often literal) on each other. Dick started the pattern first when he rejected Jason as Robin. And later Jason raging against Dick after his return. Jason’s semi-valid villain crash out ending with Dick putting him in Arkham because Jason was a straight villain pre-rebirth. And even then it takes rebirth remixed canon to allow Jason some family bonding time. I say they have a handful of months — and even then how often did Dick visit! He didn’t start reconnecting with the BatFam until after the Killing Joke and Death in the Family — they got along before shit got worse.

So that leaves Tim! The little baby brother Dick started calling little brother YEARS before Bruce ever adopted Tim.** Timmy, the freak who broke into his apartment to track him down and drag him back to Gotham. Who subsequently spends years breaking into Dick’s apartment to hang out. Because why not continue as you begin lol.

He spent his early 20s with Tim! He comes into his own as Nightwing while Tim is Robin. Hell! The first time Dick was Batman, Tim was his Robin! He literally grows into his adult self with Tim as his witness.

How many lows has Tim helped him pick up after? How many falls has Dick caught Tim after (metaphorically and literally)?

But that’s the sweet sappy shit.

Tim is the one brother Dick doesn’t have to be the responsible adult with. He eats shitty pizza with Tim. He has movie nights and hang outs and poor-tasting inside jokes with Tim. They race each other across rooftops! They play fight in the streets. Dick booby traps his apartment so Tim can have fun breaking in.*** Dick complains about his messy love life to Tim while Tim mocks him!

THEY ARE BROTHERS YOUR HONOR!

There is a reason Dick calls Tim his equal. Dick loves his brothers, he’ll always be there for them. But Tim is the one Dick doesn’t have to watch or monitor or hover over. Tim is his brother, not his regret or his child.

20 years in real time and 4 years of comic time put Tim and Dick through the ringer. No Man’s Land. Knightfall. The nuking of Bloodhaven. Contagion. Try to name a tragedy Tim and Dick haven’t witnessed and weathered side by side! But no matter how they fight or have to disappear for the mission, they always find each other and trust each other and believe in each other. Because they are truly brothers!

(So context… I’m very much reading the 90s and 2000s run. I’m like chronologically in 98. I’ve seen/heard modern comics have dropped this FOR SOME FUCKING REASON (they forget Tim exists, I guess). But I refuse to believe that rebirth got rid of their brotherly bond. Just as Tim’s “friendship” with Kon-El transcends timelines so does Dick and Tim’s brotherly bond! They are family bonded through the fires of time and comic book bullshit!)

TLDR: Dick’s brotherly relationships with Jason and Damian are complicated and the roles they play in each other’s lives aren’t always clear. Dick’s relationship with Tim has had its ups and downs but there has never been any confusion about their roles with each other. They called each other brothers and held on tight and that’s special ❤️🩵

—

* How much this is true take with a grain of salt. I’m not reading modern yet. I’ve read some cause Damian just slaps and I love him. But there’s so much!

** Tim was adopted for like a year before being emancipated. WILD! What fatherless behavior!

*** What feral menaces! I love them!!! I just need to scream. Not important. Carry on. ^>^

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤBABY ! READER.

meet baby . . . again, because she's not someone that you should be unfamiliar with, if you know the winchester boys ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ a hunt gone wrong leaves dean without a car, and a personified version if it in its place ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ resilient and reliable, loyal and loving, baby is more than happy with the shift in dynamic ㅤ — ㅤ so long as it keeps her alongside her favorite person in the world, dean.

LEATHER & LACE !! baby arrived into human society in nothing but a worn, faded black leather jacket and a pair of lacy panties, prompting shell-shocked dean to fork over his jeans in efforts to preserve the modesty that she could not care less about. the black jacket is the human translation of dean's car's black coat of paint, and the panties have no explanation beyond dean's petty-driven theory of a final nail in the coffin of the witch's curse.

NOT CALLED BABY FOR NOTHIN' !! the name was given to baby, first, as a show of affection and appreciation that dean had for the car he inherited. now that said car was a girl with her own identity, dean has stuck to calling her such due to her innocence when it came to existing as a human being. and, though he'd never admit it, the affection he felt lingered tenfold now that he'd come to terms with her existence.

BIRTHMARKS !! baby has two "birthmarks," or scarification marks that came with her shift from car to girl. pale skin knits together neatly in the form of two scratchy initial signatures over each clavicle: D.W. and S.W. dean's, on her left side, directly over the beat of her heart, and sam's, on the right, never far behind when it came to being at dean's side. it is not known for a fact if either winchester knows of the existence of these marks; though it's highly likely they know of some sort of mark existing there, with how often baby tends to casually undress.

LISTEN TO HER PURR !! of all things that the winchesters have encountered, a car turned girl is not a repeat offense that they've witnessed. every day, something new is uncovered about baby; how she reacts to things, how much fire one girl's mouth can spit, how many memories translated into her head from the leather of the seats. there is not often a moment of silence or peace, not with baby around, though the lapse from routine is a welcome one, with how hard the job they do can be at times.

SO THIS IS LOVE !! it is without a doubt that baby came into existence with a predetermined love and devotion to dean. whether it is another jab from the witch's curse, attempting to poke a thorn into the soft press of dean's side, or if the bond between a man and his first love, his car, exists as true thing. dean chooses to not think about either option, simply wanting to believe that baby picks him everytime on her own free will. he does not, in fact, think about why he wants her to be consenting and aware in her devotion, either.

POCKETFUL OF SUNSHINE !! it is unknown if any special abilities or powers came in baby's human form, as the car information booklet that'd been collecting dust in her glovebox was now lost to the void. however, it is known that the leather jacket she came to fruition in seems to have bottomless pockets, holding things lost with time and forgotten, like sam's old toy soldiers, or a stuffie, wedged so deep under the seat for so long that neither of the winchesters remember it existing. perhaps the updated '67 chevy impala instruction manual is lost in the depths of those pockets, too.

—ㅤㅤㅤFOLLOW THE MAP !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the chronological timeline of baby!reader. full map, including pitstops, unraveled here ㅤ — ㅤdiscuss baby!reader nation here !! official join the roadtrip post coming soon.

live out your baby!reader dreams in the interactive version, only found on c.ai.

01. how baby!reader came to be. 02. someone's gotta tell sam. 03. he cuddled with her anyways. 04. the girl behind the wheel. 05. baby's first case! 06. not off the hook. 07. learning about reading and feelings with sam winchester. 08. baby does not, in fact, know how to drive.

—ㅤㅤㅤPITSTOPS !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the pinnacles of thoughts and headcanons about baby!reader. join the discussion in the link above !!

ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby does not take shit from no man! + sweet dean stuff or whatev ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby's thoughts on castiel. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ the one where baby calls dean on his shit. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ kiss it better! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ mary's revival. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ social anxiety HATES her! ㅤㅤㅤ✇ meet matilda, the witch who started it all. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby learns her abcs. sam is sick of the alphabet. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ dean is NOT raising a beige baby. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ how the lovebirds fall into love. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ baby beefs with someone's big black jacked up truck. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ loving each other & all their broken pieces. ㅤㅤㅤ✇ coping mechanisms.

notes. this took me 5k years and cost me my left leg. if it takes me 619238499 years to update this / keep it updated... mind ur business i have only one leg now and 5k less years to my lifespan </3 u can find all other discussion related stuff not listed here + all of this in the baby!reader tag on my blog <3 on the chance that i start slacking on keeping this up to date.

layout inspired by my pookie twin @deansbeer <3 !!! seriously don't know how u did this still bc my GOD.

tags. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra + all of the rest of baby!reader nation if u needed a central hub to catch up LMFAO.

[malacandrax]

Cliff & Father Eugene refresher and timeline

I wanted to make a more proper introduction, for people that missed the first comics! 

I know it's hard to keep up in the fast paced internet, and investing in new characters and stories is difficult, but give it a go. Companies are sucking our souls away with engagement driven content and a great way to combat that is to connect genuinely with the creators who want to share their passions with you.

I also made a loose timeline below that you might be interested in!

Set in 1983 (...ish) London

Intros

Cliff is a raised catholic gay guy living in the outskirts of London who is struggling to find himself, he ran away from home as a teenager and did sex work to make a living. He moved back home for his mum after his dad killed himself, but still does sex work for the thrill. His mum has leant heavily on the church and alcohol after her husbands suicide. Cliff is reckless and impulsive, he drinks to excess, gets into fights, and generally cares very little for his wellbeing. The more dangerous something is the more it makes him feel alive.

Eugene is a closeted Irish catholic priest who’s recently been transferred to Cliffs local church. He has promised Cliff's mum that he’ll pay special attention to her son, who has lost his way. Eugene joined seminary as a young man to escape rural Irish life, and to try and bury his same sex attraction. He’s since come to terms with being gay, but tries his best to live in the closet to protect his position. Eugene is sensitive, softhearted, and more than a little fruity. He has few close friends and even less he sees regularly, and having a promiscuous young gay man in his parish is proving to be quite the challenge.

Their dynamic together:

Cliff sees a challenge in scandalising the priest at first, but is taken in by how genuine Eugene’s care for him is. He finds himself wanting to be better to impress him, and finds some reconciliation with the church after many bad experiences in catholic school. Mostly though he’s into Eugene, not God.

Eugene is secretly flattered to have drawn Cliffs attention. Being with Cliff makes him feel young again, and allows him to express his stifled sexuality without fear. He also sees how Cliff looks up to him, and thinks he can use that to nurture his potential and also help him become closer to God. He doesn’t account for how tempted he is to stray from the path himself. 

Voices, actor inspo 1 , 2

-----------

Timeline

I’m working on them roughly chronologically but I have skipped ahead sometimes, and there are gaps I’d like to fill. It doesn’t read like a complete linear story, but like a series of snippets.

I know a list with links isn't ideal, but it's the easiest way for me to be able to add things in as I go. Honestly though just going into their patreon collection or tumblr tag and scrolling from the bottom is a fine way to read it, and the story isn't going to be ruined by reading some bits out of order, but still I hope this timeline will be useful or interesting for some people. God be with you if you aren't on desktop.

I will one day make a pdf once I'm done with their story.

Also! It’s a little sillier at the start before I realised I wanted to develop them properly.

[Patreon links are in red. That includes some early access, and a Lot of the 18+ work. I share parts on twitter/bsky but not usually the whole thing]

Beginning:

Designs and Meetings- link

Eucharist (18+) pt1 | pt2

Cliffs confession (cinema hookup)- link

Eugene’s imagination (cinema hookup 2) (18+) twitter/bsky

Kelly Green (Eugene meets cliff on the streets) link

Christmas Party (Indirect kiss) link

2AM (Cliffs genuine confession) link

Moment of weakness (18+) link

---------

Cliffs penance:

Penance (Cliff shows up at the rectory) link

Church boundaries (Cliff helping with Eugenes duties) (18+) twitter/bsky

Poof (Cliff consults a friend) link

Laundry (Eugene smells good) link

Hugs (Cliff decides they hug now) -link

Takeout (Eugene vents about the bishop, Cliff causes mischief) link

Prayer and dreams (18+) link

Bridge (Cliff shows blatant disregard for his life) link Modern Views (Cliff broaches the topic of homosexuality) link

—- here is where I’m currently adding the major comics to! Everything onwards is a little choppy.

------------

After Cliffs penance is over:

(basically all the real plot is yet to be added)

Subway (they get close)- link (image 5)

Coming out (Eugene opens up) link, extra

Sports-link

------------

After they’ve gotten together

(this is where I’m loosely drawing most of the 18+ stuff, there’s less plot here.)

Snowstorm (Eugene rescues Cliff) link

Thunderstorm (18+) pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 (in progress)

Blasphemy (18+) link

Church office (18+) pt1 | pt2 | pt3

Afterglow- link

-----------

Extras [a mix of canon and non canon]

(mostly ask replies and cute doodles)

Neck kisses- link

Clothes swap- pt1 | pt2

fav animals- link

Cliffs hair- link

Lick- pt1 | pt2

Just a whole bunch of doodles- link (cuddles, bunny/dog cliff)

------------

Non canon

Confession booth (18+) pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5

Eugene ride and drag alt (18+) link

Nun outfit link

Nun sequence (18+) pg1 | pg2 | pg3 | pg4 | pg5 | pg6

Short shorts (18+) pt1 | pt2

Naughty list (18+) twitter/bsky

Bunny Eugene link

This was quite a complicated undertaking, so let me know if anything is broken.

Making this made me realise I'm insane I think. I've only had these guys for 6 months where did all this art come from, there's like 100 pics of them...haha... ;;;;

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Serendipity

❥Yandere Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: happy seonghwa day ! drumroll please 🥁🥁🥁 this is the beginning of hwa and his baby's story !! holy shit am i excited to share this, this is the plot that i had in my head the whole time writing the first fics of this au and i knew i wanted to write it but i was just never satisfied until now. this has been in my head for two years, enjoy the ride !

Baby Series (this is the first part chronologically)

✃... "I didn't feel anything. Not a thing. Because he had it coming. He hurt My Baby." ... ✃

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere (lowkey a romance turned horror)

✫彡wordcount: 12k

♫"You're my baby, say it to me." Mitski, I Bet on Losing Dogs

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: hwa is CRAZY FFR, slow burn that kicks into overdrive, reader is an age regressor, ignoring red flags, they smooch, enjoy before it goes downhill 😭 panic attacks, insinuated sh(not reader), past abusive relationship, drugging, detailed recount of murder. only briefly proof read

✩index: little space- a regressed state of mind where someone feels like a child. little / age regressor - a person with a little space. caregiver - someone who cares for a little, usually their significant other. hyung - a close male friend older than you, used by other males.

♫"Since the creation of the universe, everything was destined. Just let me love you." Jimin, Serendipity

➯disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

It was most likely a mistake on Seonghwa's part to be here. If there was a single photo with his face in it, it would most probably mean the end of his career. But he couldn't help himself. It was something he was always interested in.

    His members say he has a natural caring aura about him, and they aren't wrong. Something in his brain tells him to care for everyone and everything, especially things he finds adorable.

It's still considered taboo in Korea, but even taboo things have their place in the world.

With a mask over his face, thick rimmed glasses, and a cap; he bit the bullet and entered the convention. He saw a post about it online, urging littles and their caregivers to come and support small businesses that made things within the community.

Although he had no use for these things, no little of his own, he figured it would be a good place to get a feel for the community.

It was surprisingly busy for how much stigma was around the entire idea. People were polite to one another, treating everyone like a good friend. It was different from the rest of Korea; where people kept to themselves for the most part.

He was simply admiring the different variations of bottles made to fit in a bigger hand when he saw it —

    When he saw... you.

    At the booth next to him, biting your nail as you looked down at the array of pacifiers with a look on your face that would make anyone think you were making the most important decision of your life.

    You were... you are breathtaking.

    Against his best judgment, his promise to himself to stay under the radar, he speaks up, "big decision?" 

     You jump up a little bit, placing a hand against your colorfully striped t-shirt. You look him up and down.

    "Sorry," he gives you a bow as he steps closer, looking down at the display with you.

    "Ah, it's okay," you smile, shifting on your feet, "yeah, I'm having some trouble. I promised myself I would only get one but they're all calling my name."

   The little laugh in your voice has his heart thudding wildly, and he passes off his deep calming breath like he's thinking over it as well; bending to get a better look.

    "Do you," he clears his throat, "maybe you could ask your caregiver?" Please, say you don't have one. Please, say you don't have one. Please, say you don't have one. Pl-

    "Oh, I don't have one," you give him a half-smile, looking him up and down once more. He looks well put together and something about him draws you in. He smells like the Earth after it rains. You want to talk to him more. "Your little must be missing you." Please, say you don't have one. Please, say you don't have one. Please, say you don't have-

    "I don't have a little." He pauses before shaking his hands, "not that I'm here to try and find one! That would probably be weird, I'm just curious! No- not curious, I know I want to be a caregiver but-"

    Your precious laugh cuts his rambling off, "hey, it's okay, no judgment here," you gesture around, "clearly."

    "Ah," he nods; thankful that his mask is hiding his embarrassed blush, "it's my first time at one of these things... could you tell?"

    "Oh, yeah, immediately," you look down with a smile on your lips.

    "That obvious, huh?"

    "You stick out like a sore thumb, man."

    He laughs along with you, resting his elbows on the glass display case. "You fit in pretty well, though. Can I ask, how long have you been... been little?"

    "Hmm," you have a thoughtful pout as you look away from the case and at the lanyards on the sides of the pop up walls. "Four- eh, five years soon. How long have you known you want to be a caregiver?"

    He's happy that the conversation flows naturally, maybe it's your bubbly aura or your sweet personality. "Long time," he thinks to the first time he ever accidentally cooed at one of his sleeping members, "seven years maybe? I've always been drawn to taking care of people."

    "That's what makes a good caregiver. Always putting others first," you giggle, tapping your baby blue nails on the glass, "eh, if I can't decide by now I probably shouldn't buy one." 

    "Do you have one already?" The question slips before he can think over his words, making his heart drop at the thought that that's probably too intense of a question. But thankfully you don't think anything of it.

   "Yeah, but it's about time to replace it. They get worn down even if you take good care of them," you explain for him, resting your cheek in your palm as you meet his gaze. "How much do you know about this stuff?"

    "Oh, well," he whispers, looking away from your intense eye contact, "not much, admittedly..." He'd only read a few articles and followed a few pages, and he didn't think he'd be in a relationship with a little anytime soon so he hadn't invested time to deep diving.

    "Do you want to walk with me? I can tell you about it, if you like."

     "Really?" His head pops up quickly, and he sees you holding back a laugh at his eagerness.

    "Yeah!" You nod, giving a last peek towards a light pink pacifier before turning away, "can't have you wondering around here lost, right?"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

"So you don't?" Seonghwa tilts his head as he looks at the large onsies on display, the cute patterns making him smile under his mask.

"No, my little age is a liiiiittle too big for onsies," you laugh, "see what I did there? Ah, I'm hilarious." You look around, spotting a sign for one of the small businesses you know. You jump, quickly running over.

Seonghwa blinks in confusion for a moment before running after you, his long legs catching up with you easily.

"Miss Lee?" You peek around the stand, flinching back into Seonghwa's chest as the older woman pops into view, picking up a receipt she had dropped. "Ah!"

He quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, similarly startled. When he notices, he quickly steps back and pats your shoulder instead.

"Oh, (Y/n)! Good to see you!"

"Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack," you joke, thankfully not noticing or caring enough about Seonghwas semi-hug to say anything. You slide into the make shift store, giving her a warm hug. "I didn't know you would be here."

"Last minute decision," she pats your back as she lets go of you, looking towards the man, "who's this?"

"Oh," you smile as you remember his presence, "this is Hwa. He's new to the whole thing, I was showing him around, answering some questions."

"Hello," he bows to the older woman, and she leans forward with a questioning expression.

"Why you wearing that? You a serial killer or something?"

You freeze at the old timers suspicion. It hadn't even crossed your mind.

"No, no, no," he shakes his head quickly at your weary face, "God, no!" He laughs nervously, looking around. Thankfully, Miss Lee's booth is in a further off corner because of her last minute attendance. And he doesn't know why, but he doesn't want his time with you to end.

So, he pulls down his mask. "Not a serial killer, I promise. I'm just... shy about this."

You smile lightly as you take in his features for the first time. Miss Lee tuts her tongue and waves her hand, "no reason to be shy, you're a pretty boy."

He pulls it back up quickly after giving you a smile which makes your heart melt.

"(Y/n), I have something for you! I was going to drop it off at your apartment if I didn't run into you," she's oblivious to your small flirting moment as she quickly changes the subject, opening up a box.

"Ah, I didn't order anything," you shake your head, helping the woman lift the heavy container onto the chair.

"I know, but the person who did cancelled on me, and I immediately thought of you. Their measurements are a bit bigger than you, but I know you like things baggy anyway, angel."

Seonghwa rests his arms on the pink dresser she has at the front, looking on with curiosity and smiling at the woman's kind words to you.

"Are you sure you couldn't sell it-"

"I want you to have it- ah, here it is!" She sets a folded up sweater into your arms. It's a pastel purple fabric that even looks soft to the touch, and he can tell it is by the way you rub your finger tips over it with a happy sigh. As you unfold it, you see her delicate embroidery on the front in a thin cursive. 'Baby', it says, the y at the end curling into a heart.

You pull it over your head without another moment of hesitation and hug the woman again.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

You lead Seonghwa with a new hop in your step, the large sweater bouncing with each of your excited moves. He can see why you like it, it makes you look adorable. He can tell it makes you feel that way, as well.

Your naturally happy personality is doubled by something as simple as a big, soft, sweater. It's fascinating. The psychologically behind all of this is intriguing to him.

"What about those?" He points to some plates with little separated areas, different cartoons and patterns on them.

"Hm?" You halt and come back to his side, "ah, lots of littles have sensory issues — just like kids do. When the food touches a different food it gets all icky." Your nose scrunches up at the thought, so he asks.

"Do you use them?"

"Oh, yeah. If my foods touch it's like they're contaminated. I know it's silly, b-"

"I don't think it's silly."

You look up at him, a soft smile gracing your face. "No?"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

He sits facing the wall, thankful to let his face get some fresh air without the fear of anyone seeing him. Especially now that he's with you.

There's a cafe across the street that you suggested after showing him almost everything to see; neither of you ready to part ways just yet.

"Tada~" You slide into the seat across from him, offering him his drink that you kindly paid for even though he insisted he could do so.

"Thanks," he smiles, happy that you can finally see his expressions when you smile back wider than before.

"No problem!" You watch as he takes a sip and chews on the boba with a pout on his lips. "Good?"

"Mhm! You were right," he quickly goes for another, making you chuckle as you sip on your own drink.

"So," he leans forward, "besides all of... that," he gestures to the busy gathering across the road, "what do you do?"

"I work for a law firm." His eyes widen, making you laugh loudly; he clearly wasn't expecting that. "In the filing room," you clarify, pushing up the long sleeves of the sweater and groaning when they fall back down.

"Ah, okay, sorry! I didn't meant to seem so shocked," he sets his drink down, motioning for you to bring your arm forward, "may I?"

"Thanks," you lift your arm out across the table, watching his fingers closely as he rolls up the fabric neatly, "uhm, what about you?" He pauses, and bites his lip as he reaches for your other arm. "Wait, you aren't actually a killer, are you?"

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he makes the sleeves even, "I'm uh... I'm in the entertainment industry."

"Oh, why are you so-"

"I'm an idol." He finally blurts out.

You stare at each other for a long moment, your arms dropping to the table with a thunk. "Huh?"

"I'm an idol. My name is Seonghwa, not just Hwa. I'm in a group called ATEEZ and I don't know why I'm telling you all this but I can't get my mouth to stop!" He slaps a hand over his mouth with a groan, thanking his lucky stars that nobody else is in the cafe and the worker has their headphones on.

You tilt your head, eyebrows pushing together. "No, you aren't," you shake your head, "no way! I see ads for that group everywhere, I would recognized y...ooooh." Your jaw drops as he holds up his phone, a picture of their latest promotional poster on the screen. Sure enough, there he is. And here he is, too, in front of you. "Shiiiit, damn!" You thud your head onto the table. "I thought I actually had a chance with you." It's your turn to blurt something out.

"... What?"

"What?" You parrot him, suddenly realizing what you said and sitting up stalk straight. "Wow, that was really inappropriate of me-"

"Can I take you on a date?"

You blink in surprise, daring to look him in the eyes. He looks as sincere as anyone ever has, his eyes glimmering with hope. You take a long sip of your drink before throwing your head back dramatically, "ugh! How could I say no to that?!"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

A couple of days later, your phone pings at work. With nothing to do, you bring it out from your pocket.

    HWA SENT TWO MESSAGES.

   You smile down at the device as you open them up.

    7:47AM. HWA SENT A MESSAGE. Okay, have a good day at work!

    9:16AM. HWA SENT A MESSAGE. Do you have plans tonight? My schedule opened up, I was wondering if I could give you that date?

   You tap your nails against the back of your phone as you think.

    9:18AM. YOU SENT A MESSAGE. i'm free after work ! what time were you thinking ?

    As soon as you sat it down, it buzzed again. "This guy," you laugh to yourself.

    9:20AM. HWA SENT A MESSAGE. I was thinking we could eat dinner together. What time do you usually eat?

  

   9:21AM. YOU SENT A MESSAGE. usually around 7, how does that sound ?

   9:23AM. HWA SENT A MESSAGE. That sounds good. Is it okay if I come to your place? I can bring whatever you like.

    You hesitate for a moment, biting your thumb. You don't know him that well. Inviting a stranger, a strange man, into your home was usually always asking for trouble.

    9:25AM. HWA SENT A MESSAGE. Sorry, that probably was weird of me to ask. We can find somewhere!

    Your anxiety is replaced by a smile as you type back quickly.

    9:25AM. YOU SENT A MESSAGE. no, that sounds good ! it would probably be hard to find a quiet place on a friday. i'll send my address to you in a bit !

    You slam the phone down and ignore the buzz as he texts you back after a few moments; staring ahead with wide eyes as you realize you just invented a man over to your home. You doubted he would try to take things further than a cheek kiss; even that was a big maybe. But it was still nerve wracking.

   But then... you think of the gentle way he rolled your sleeves, and the way he blurted out the truth to you against his better judgement. His smile, his pretty eyes.

    "Ugh!" You slam your head onto the desk. "I almost wish he was a serial killer."

    "What?!" Your coworker yells from the corner.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    "A date!" Your best friend, Yejin, repeats for the third time in thirty minutes as you both rush around to pick up any mess in your apartment. 

    "Yes," you roll your eyes as you toss the broom at her.

     "A daaaate?" She laughs at your exhausted face, tired of her teasing.

   "Yup," you turn back around quickly, fixing up the pillows on your little sofa. "I'm already nervous, okay?"

    "Why didn't you go to a restaurant? I really didn't expect to go from not knowing this guy existed to cleaning your house so he can come over!"

    "Don't worry about it," you tut your tongue, rushing to pick up your coloring books and shove them into the box in the corner.

    "Does he know-"

    "Yes, he knows I'm an age regressor."

    She nods, suddenly having a more serious look about her.

    "What?"

    "I was going to ask does he know about Namsun..."

     You throw the last book with a sigh, sitting on the floor. She knows it's a sensitive subject, but she doesn't know how much this guy actually knows about you. She really didn't know you were even talking to someone until a few hours ago. But apparently he was trustworthy enough to invite over. "No..."

    "Are you sure it's a good idea to have him over so soon, Babe?" She crouches next to you, looking at you intently, "what do you even know about this guy?"

    "A lot..." I watched some of his videos, you want to say.

     She sighs, patting your shoulder as she glances at her watch. "It's almost seven, you should get ready." She knows there's no stopping you.

    There's no stopping destiny.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

      Seonghwa sets out the multiple styrofoam boxes on your short coffee table, sitting cross legged on a pillow you offered him. "Sorry, again," you say as you come back from the kitchen, handing him his choice of drinks after you'd called them out to him. "My dining table got broke like a year ago and I haven't had the time to replace it."

    "It's okay," he smiles, any time spent with you will be perfect, he wants to say. Way too soon for that, he knows. Instead, "thanks for agreeing to eat here. We can just relax, not worry about others."

    "Yeah, I get it! It must be hard to just do normal things when you're a celebrity." You hum as you hand him a plate, setting one infront of you as well.

    "Celebrity," he snorts a laugh, covering his mouth quickly, "sorry..."

    You laugh, shaking your head, "what? That was cute." You suck your lips in as you realize what you said, similarly looking down shyly. "Anyway! Let's eat, where's this from?"

    He takes a sip of his drink to calm himself before looking up and responding as he watches you open the boxes. "It's from a place called Lin's Express, I go there a lot with- hey, won't that bother you?" He pauses as he sees the flat plate infront of you, remembering the way your face scrunched up at the thought of food touching each other.

    You look down, blinking at the dish for a second before clarity hits you. "Oh, I forgot you know about that! I usually just deal with it when I eat with others."

    The thought makes him a bit sad. You shouldn't have to be uncomfortable just for the satisfaction or ease of others who don't understand. "No," he shakes his head, picking it up and placing it in your confused hands, "I want you to be comfortable. You should use one of your plates."

    You tilt your head as you look up from the plate, meeting his eyes. "Really? I mean- that won't make you feel like you're eating with a kid?"

    He shakes his head, quick to reassure you, "I know you're really an adult. I'm in your apartment, why would I think you're a kid if you eat from a divided plate?"

    "Yeah, I guess you're right," you smile, quickly going to the kitchen and exchanging your dish. He takes the moment to look around, taking in your style and the various pictures on your walls. From his spot on the floor, he can't make out a lot of them; but they seem to be different sceneries and some family photos.

     One of them catches his eye more than the others, it's of you and another woman your age on your left. The person on your right has been torn away and replaced by another photo; one of a beautiful sunrise taken high up. You were clearly trying to remove the person from the photo. But their hand is on your hip.

     "Better," you sit with a little sigh, not noticing his gaze on the photo as you finish opening up the few boxes.

    He looks away quickly when he feels you look at him, smiling over at you. "Good," he hums, picking up the chopsticks you provided him, "I want you to be comfortable with me!"

    "Thanks, Hwa," you mirror him, gathering some noodles onto a section of your plate, "Lin's Express, you said? Smells good!"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

      "You did?"

    You both lay on your backs on your living room floor, stomachs full and hearts content as you tilt your heads to look at each other.

    "I did! It was terrifying," you chuckle as you recount the day that you and Yejin swam with sharks, "I can't believe I let her convince me to do that! I mean... they were basking sharks, totally harmless, but still!"

    He laughs with you, "I would have freaked out the second I saw them. It's in our nature to be scared of things that can kill us!"

    "That's," you slap his shoulder playfully, "exactly! Exactly what I said! But she said it would be good for me to do something thrilling to feel empowered."

    "She sounds like a good friend," he thinks back to the picture, his eyes flitting to it, "is that her?"

    "Uh?" You follow his eyes, "yeah that's her! We've been friends for like... nine years now? Going on a decade."

    "Can I ask," he hesitates, "what happened to the rest of the picture?"

    "Oh," you roll over onto your stomach, folding your arms and resting your chin on them. "I guess that is kind of a weird thing to see hanging in someone's house..."

    He sees your mood faltering, so he places a hand on your arm gently, "you don't have to tell me. It can be a story for another day."

     "Thanks, it's definitely a 'another day' type of story," you lean and kiss his knuckle before sitting up. You don't notice the blush on his cheeks or the way he holds his kissed hand to his chest. You stretch your arms over your head and look at the ticking clock. "Woah, we've been talking for four hours!"

    "What?!" He sits up quickly and surely enough — the clock reads fifteen past ten. "Oh, shit," he scrambles for his phone, left face down on the table, "sorry, I promised my members I'd check in every so often."

   "Oh, crap! I told Yejin the same!" You dive for the couch, and aren't surprised to see a barrage of messages and missed calls from your friend. The most recent of which reading:

    9:45PM. JINAH SENT A MESSAGE. OKAY THATS IT IM CHECKING YOUR BLINK TO MAKE AURE HE DIDNT DRAG YOUR BODY OUT

    9:51PM. JINAH SENT A MESSAGE. dude, if you're getting laid right now and not DEAD IN A DITCH I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF

    10PM. JINAH SENT A MESSAGE. please don't be dead in a ditch

     You quickly reply to tell her that you're in fact alive, chuckling as you see her go back and forth with herself trying to figure out if you're dead or just 'getting the pipe' as she put it.

     Seonghwas voice pulls you from your phone, "Dude! Would you stop face-timing me while I'm trying to type?" He frowns at his phone before looking up and giving you an apologetic look.

     "Dude!" The man over the device mocks him, "would you answer the fucking phone so we know you're not being help captive?! You asshole, what were you doing for four hours?"

    "We were just-"

    "Holy shit..." The tone of his voice makes Seonghwa try to stop him before he can say something embarrassing.

     "No! No, no, Wooyoung-" Try, that is.

    "Yah, guys! He was just getting laid!"

     Seonghwa drops the phone, hiding in his hands.

     You burst into laughter, your head tilted back with the force of it. He looks up, watching with a fond glint in his eyes as you cover your mouth with your arm, sound still managing to escape.

     "Oh," the man on the phone whispers like he isn't being projected through a speaker, "oh, fuck, Hyung... can she hear me?"

    "Bye, Wooyoung!"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡ 

     The next date is a week later, and he says he's more than happy to host you as it would be nearly impossible to find a quiet place where you wouldn't be noticed on a Saturday.

    He opens the door with a big smile, relief flooding him as he sees you.

    "Hey, Hwa," you smile up at him, shifting your weight on your feet.

    "You look adorable." He says it before he even realizes it, but he doesn't regret it one bit.

    To the untrained eye, you're just in a girly outfit with your hair moved out of your face to fight off the heat.

    But Seonghwa has been reading up on everything to do with age regression, even more than before now that he's talking with you. Much more. Anything remotely little space related, he would bookmark.

    One thing he remembers most clearly is about how littles can try to comfort themselves in public. With things that could be passed off as something else if they were questioned about it. Things like coloring or drawing and saying it's meditative. Or fidget toys, you could easily say help with anxiety. Or like right now, you're wearing more 'childish' clothes that could be passed off as your style or vibe.

     "Oh, really?" You look down at your outfit shyly. You wanted a little bit of extra comfort in a new place, so you made yourself feel small with your choices. "Thank you."

    "Yeah," he sounds almost breathless as he looks you up and down for the umpteenth time.

    "Who's at the door?" Someone yells from within, breaking his trance.

    "Sorry, come in, come in." He quickly ushers you inside, "you can just put your shoes over with ours, here." He takes them for you, placing them on the racks with multiple other pairs.

    "Thanks, Hwa," you look around the apartment, unaware of how the nickname makes his heart flutter. You never stopped calling him that even after he told you his full name. "What did you have plan-"

    "Ah!" Someone yells as they exit the hallway, their eyes immediately on your unfamiliar face, "who is this?!"

    Seonghwa's body reacts before his mind again, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and holding you to himself as you both get startled; just like the first day you met. "Jesus, Wooyoung!" He scolds the other man, letting out a sigh. "What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me," he rubs your shoulders briefly before he lets go of you, "you don't even live here."

    "Me scared you? You're the one who brought a girl over unannounced! What if I was naked?!"

    You cover your mouth as your giggles threaten to come up, looking between them as they go back and forth.

    "I told the people who actually live with me, that-"

    "Well, I didn't hear about this!"

     "Because you don't live in this apartment, Young-ie! And why would you be naked?!"

    "I'm-"

    "Will you-"

     "Hey, you must be (Y/n)," another man greets much more politely as he comes out behind Wooyoung, giving you a bow which you quickly return.

    "(Y/n)? Like first date was five hours long (Y/n)?" Wooyoung gets slapped with realization, "oooooh! Sorry, sorry," he nods quickly, smiling your way. 

    "Yeah, Hyung told me and Mingi she would be coming over." Seonghwa gives Wooyoung a look that screams 'told you.'

     "Nice to meet you," you bow again, standing by his side like you're afraid to move away.

    He's internally freaking the fuck out at the fact you're really here, even more so that you're being so nice to his members even though one of them just jump scared you and only a week ago insinuated that you slept with him.

    "Sorry about-" Wooyoung clears his throat, "yeah, sorry."

    "Are you thirsty," Seonghwa ignores the two of them and looks down at you, "I saw that you walked here, it's a pretty long way."

    You have butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him watching your location, making sure you found your way to him safely. "Uhm, a little bit."

    "Come on," he grabs your hand gently and leads you, "sorry about them. I diiid warn you."

    Wooyoung and San watch you disappear into the kitchen, the younger tilting his head. "I didn't know Hyung was into girly girls. Ow! What was that for?"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

"Do you see this piece?"

His floor is covered in an array of Lego pieces, he sits cross legged on one side of the pile and you're laid on your stomach on the other.

You turn your instruction packet to face him, still searching.

You're making a bouquet of flowers, and he's making a vase for them to go in; talking about random things that come up as you go.

It been about two hours and you're both on your final pieces. But you can't find one of the long green sticks that the bodies of your flowers go on.

"Uhm," he looks around the few remaining pieces, pouting, "no, I don't."

"Dang," you close the book with a small huff, then a shrug, "we're missing one of the stems! One, two, three..." You count the ones in your hand again.

"Hmmm," he looks over the flowers you made and picks one up carefully. A black dahlia. "Maybe, I can keep this one? And you can put the rest on the stems?"

You slide up to sit on your knees and think for a second. "Smart! I was just going to use a straw or something, that probably wouldn't have gone too well," you laugh, gently putting the remaining flowers onto the sticks while he carefully sets the dahlia on his desk.

"Creative, I like it," he smiles as he watches over you for a moment. You move the plastic flowers into different places in your hand, trying to figure out how to arrange them.

You're doing something so simple, mundane.

But Seonghwa thinks you're the most beautiful girl in the world in that moment.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

"Food!" Comes a muffled yell from somewhere in the apartment.

You and Seonghwa were laid side by side on his bed, his fingers tracing yours as he listens intently to your stories and shares his own.

"Uh?" He picks up his phone and looks at the time, his eyes widening, "oh, the time got away from us again," he chuckles as he shows you. It's already 8 in the evening, when you had arrived sometime around 3 in the afternoon.

It feels like time doesn't exist when he's with you. Nothing does.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry," you sit up quickly, and he comes with you.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he reassures as he sets a hand on your back softly, "uhm, since you're here, if you want to, why don't you eat with us?"

"That's sweet, but I'd feel like I'm intruding." You pick up your bag where he hung it off the back of his chair, straightening out your clothes. "I had a really good time-"

"Come on, Baby. You have to eat, don't feel like you're intruding."

You stop in your tracks, bag half on your shoulder. "...what?"

He swings his legs off the edge of the bed quickly, looking at you closely. Did he say something wrong? Did he push your boundaries? Fuck fuck fuck fuck, fix this!

"Sorry, I just meant that we'd be more than glad to have you eat here! It isn't a problem at all, I-"

"Baby?"

He slaps a hand over his mouth as he recalls his words, quickly standing and bowing to you over and over as you stand there star-struck. "I'm sorry, (Y/n), I didn't mean to call you that, it just slipped out! Please, forgive me."

He pauses when he feels your hand on his shoulder. He's scared to look up, but he does anyway.

And he's immediately relieved.

You're smiling down at him, "it's okay, Hwa. I can be your Baby." You lean and give him a modest kiss to his cheek before pulling away all too quickly and putting your bag back on the chair. "Let's eat, yeah?"

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

The table has a comfortable atmosphere around it as you all eat and talk together.

You hear all kinds of stories about the man you're now officially dating, ranging from hilarious to heartwarming.

He sits beside you, chin in his hand as he watches you talking with his members; a smile stuck on his face.

San and Mingi, his roommates, tell you jokingly to be careful about messes because their Hyung is a neat-freak. Wooyoung apologizes for his behavior and then immediately gets his hand smacked with San's chopsticks as he tries to sneak a piece of meat from his plate. Yeosang, who only came over to get a charger, ended up staying when you and him clicked.

"You seriously don't know any of our songs? You didn't look us up? I find that hard to believe," Yeosang eyes you kiddingly, "in this day and age? I bet Seonghwa Hyung looked you up. Am I right?"

Seonghwa tears his eyes from you and looks up at the ceiling, "uhhhm, no! Nope." His voice is high and clearly he's lying, so you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Yah, no way! Psh, jokes on you. There's much more information about you online than there is about me."

"So, you did Google him?" Wooyoung smirks from across the table, leaning over it.

"Well-" Your mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of water before they start laughing. "Can you blame me?! I mean, c'mon! Look at him, I had to know if I stood a chance!" You groan, covering your face with your hand.

Seonghwa places a hand on your head as he leans towards you in his laughter, his eyes shut as he presses his forehead to your shoulder. Mingi is about to fall off his chair at the look on your face as you got caught red handed. Yeosang punches your other shoulder gently, "I knew it!"

"Okay, okay! I did look him up but I didn't full on stalk him! Just like... the basics. Like what he probably saw about me when he was doing the same thing!" You laugh with them, leaning back in your chair.

"Ah," he sighs, wiping his eyes as he leans back into his own space, "so we're on an even playing field, you think?"

"I know how to tell!" Wooyoung jumps up, slamming his hands on the table.

A few minutes later, you and Seonghwa sit side by side on the couch, a piece of paper and a pen for each of you curtesy of Mingi.

It's starting to rumble with thunder outside, so you figured you'd stay and wait out the storm. April showers. That's all it is, it should pass within the hour. Plus; you're having a good time.

"So, we're writing down the answer for each other, right?" You question, twirling the pen in your fingers, "so if you say, like, 'favorite movie' I would write what I think his favorite movie is?"

"Yup! Ready? Birthday?!" He starts slamming you both with questions, San and Mingi chuckling as Yeosang watches with his cheek in his palm; curled up in an armchair.

Birthday, zodiac sign, favorite movie (because of course he stole your question), favorite weather, parents names, the list went on until you both ran out of space on the papers.

He switches your papers, and tells you to grade each other.

Seonghwa smiles as he sees that you know the answer to almost every question besides the more obscure or personal ones.

Your eyes widen as you put check mark after check mark to his answers. Do you really talk that much? Did you really tell him your mother's name? You have been talking almost nonstop for a month, whenever you both were free almost all of your free time went to texting or calling. But did you already mention your love language or was he just that observant? When had you talked about your fear of the dark?

"Hwa..." You whisper, calling their attention, you feel a bit of a shiver down your spine but you attribute it to the air conditioning. "Are you sure you aren't a serial killer? How do you know I'm afraid of the dark?" You force a little huff of a laugh, peeking at him. The others look at him curiously.

"Hm?" He looks at the paper and blushes a bit. "Oh, I uh... I admittedly had a look at your Instagram, I saw that a lot of your pictures were taken in a light night, so I guessed..."

It's quiet for a second.

"Wow, you're a creep, Hyung!" Wooyoungs outburst breaks the thickness in the air, making it comfortable once again.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

"It doesn't seem like it's going to clear up," Seonghwa sighs as he clicks off the weather channel, looking over to where you stand at the windows, watching the storm crash down on the city.

It was just you and him in the living room, Yeosang and Wooyoung returned to their own apartments and San and Mingi retired to bed.

"Ah, I should call Yejin and have her pick me up so you can get some rest." Before you can go to retrieve your phone from the table, he stands up.

"You don't have to do that, Baby," he hums, rubbing your arm gently as he sees the worried look on your adorable face, "nobody should be driving in this, it's too dangerous. You can sleep here, take the bed; I'll sleep on the couch-"

"No, no," you shake your head, looking down, "I can't possibly do that. I've already-"

"I promise it's okay." He stops you, looking down at you sincerely, "we could call it a sleep over." He cracks as smile as you giggle, gesturing with his head down the hall, "come on, you can wear something of mine to sleep in."

You thank him again and again as he gathers you something that will fit, even give him another kiss on the cheek before you close the door to the bathroom to change.

He changes while you're in the bathroom and then sits down on the edge of his bed with wide eyes. He can't believe he got you to stay. He can't believe you're going to sleep in his bed. He can't believe you've kissed his cheek... twice. He can't believe you believed his bullshit lie about Instagram.

Truth be told, the first time you hung out; he snooped. He 'accidentally' opened the door to your bedroom instead of the bathroom. He learned as much as he could in as little time as possible.

When you come back to his room, his heart feels like it simultaneously stops and beats a million miles per hour.

The sleep pants he lent you fit a little awkwardly but you look comfortable. The sweater you had brought with you just in case hides your hands as you fidget with them nervously.

His back straightens as he looks you up and down. "Wow..."

Just like before. It's something mundane. Domestic. And —

"You look so beautiful."

He only realizes that he said it out loud because your eyes widen. Then his do. It's a staring contest of sorts.

"Sorry." He blurts out. "Actually," he takes it back, "I'm not sorry. I mean it. You're beautiful."

Your ears feel red hot, "s-shut up," you laugh lightly as you set your folded up clothes with your bag.

When you turn around, he's right behind you. "Oh my!" He snuck up on you in what seems like a millisecond, quiet as a mouse. But he's looking down at you like a hawk. "Hwa, is-"

"Can I kiss you?"

The question comes seemingly out of nowhere. But it's been on his mind since the second you entered his room for the first time.

You feel sunburnt everywhere as your blood rushes, licking your lips when your eyes copy his and look at his plump lips as he looks at yours. "Ye-"

His lips crash into yours, his hands hesitating before he brings them up. His finger tips graze your cheeks softly before his palms slowly cradle them, holding you tenderly as your lips move together without hurry.

He leads you to the bed, falling on his back and letting you crash onto him as your lips refuse to part from each other.

Your hands find purchase on either side of his head, and his find their way to your hips.

Your entire body is on fire. His entire being is set ablaze.

Your bodies start to move against each other in tandem with your lips as your mouths part, allowing one another to get your first taste of each other.

He's already addicted.

So he's thankful when you pull back, panting, and whisper, "stay with me."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

April is gone and in comes May. You've been dating Park Seonghwa for just over four weeks when he shows up at your door on a random Tuesday.

A random Tuesday that you just so happen to be home sick on.

"Hwa," you whine as you open the door, "I told you not to come over. I don't want to get you sick."

He simply smiles and lifts up a plastic bag on his fingers, "Lin's Express?"

You immediately turn around and head back inside, "come in, then."

"I thought so," he laughs airily, closing the door behind him, "have you taken any medicine, Baby?"

"Uhhhh," you groan on as you fall back into the couch were you've set yourself up, "couple of hours ago, but I ran out-"

"Wham!" He grins widely as he places a bottle of cold medicine on the coffee table, from the bag that had been in his other hand.

"H- wha-" You stutter, "how in the world do you know me so well?"

He shrugs playfully, taking off the seal before handing it to you, "here you go."

"Thanks, Hwa," you down some quickly before falling back across the couch, watching as he sets out the food. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I know you haven't felt good for a few days so I asked to record my lines first, so I could come take care of you as early as I could."

The words, you don't know why, they make you tear up. When you sniffle, he looks up quickly.

"Baby?"

"You're so sweet," you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, "I think I'm still in denial."

"Denial?" He asks quietly as he shuffles to the couch on his knees, rubbing your side softly. "Denial of what?"

"That you chose me to be with. You could have anyone you want, and you're here. You- you're here. Taking care of me when I'm sick."

He pouts, leaning his head down on the armrest to mirror yours. "I don't want anyone else."

Your brows push together. He sounds so serious.

"I don't want to be anywhere else. With anyone else. I only want to be with you. You make me feel... peace. Peace that I haven't felt in- in... ever." He won't tell you this, but after the first night you spent at his apartment; he took a walk to the river the next day and threw his razor blades in the rushing water. You gave him the relief that they used to provide. And you did it so softly. "I don't want anyone else. I want you. I chose you."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

You don't know how it happened, but after that, you found yourself falling into your little space.

    Maybe it was a mix of his loving words and soft touches as he helped you sit up and eat. A mix of exhaustion and emotions pushing you to go to your safe space.

    You never went there with him before. But no matter how hard you fought it, you still found yourself feeling tiny.

   You've both talked about it a lot, about what you did and how you felt and what you wanted. But you were still scared to let someone in after what happened last time.

    He notices you biting your lip, deep in thought as he rinses the dishes. "Everything okay, Baby?"

    Damn his favorite nickname for you, making you shrink even more. "I think, uhm," you look around, picking at your gingham pajama shorts. They're too rough for your increasingly fragile state. "Oh, I'm having a panic attack." You realize, stating it nonchalantly.

    "What?" He quickly turns off the faucet, drying his hands on the way to you, worry clear on his face. He stops a few steps away, wanting nothing more than to embrace you as he watches your breathing get shallow and sharp, but he knows better than to crowd someone having a panic attack from his experiences with his members and himself. He crouches and tries to meet your gaze, but your eyes are going too fast from place to place. "Baby, look at me, please?"

    Your eyes stop their incessant scanning of the rooms, landing on him with tears pressing against your waterline.

    "What can I do to help you, right now?" Clear and soft questions. He doesn't want to make you go deeper into your panic.

    "I n-" You heave, fingers still picking at the rough fabric of your shorts, "I need to change." You settle on, abruptly standing up — only to get dizzy and fall back down, Seonghwa's hands outreached; having been ready to catch you.

     "Okay, okay, can I pick you up? Is that okay? You're not in a place to walk," he approaches gradually, keeping his hands visible.

    You nod without a second thought. The panic attack you forced yourself into in the midst of fighting yourself officially put your mind into little space.

    You hold onto him tightly as he gently and slowly wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. Your arms lock around his neck and your legs around his waist.

     He makes the trip to your room quickly, even though he wants to revel in the feeling of you clinging to him; he knows it's not the time.

    You hesitate to let go of him when he sets you on your bed, a small whine leaving you that makes his heart tug as he lets go of you.

    "Which drawer, Baby?"

      You point. The one on the bottom.

    When he opens it, he starts putting the dots together on what made you freak out. This drawer seems to be dedicated to childish looking clothes of all kinds. He was making you fall into your regression.

    He bites back a smile as he moves to the side and lets you point again. He knew it was only a matter of time, especially with the way you froze when he first called you Baby. Especially with the way he was purposefully being extra caring while you were sick; having read that age regressors often went to their safe place when sick or stressed. 

    He successfully gathers what you wordlessly ask for, and sets the clothes on the bed next to you, "do you need help, Baby?" Another whine leaves you, and you struggle with yourself for a moment before nodding.

     Finally, he thinks as he helps you into the Tinkerbell themed pajamas.

    Finally.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

   When you manage to calm yourself down with the help of Seonghwa's soft humming, he finally asks (though he already knows the answer), "do you want to tell me what happened?"

You're feeling so nice and fuzzy-headed when you finally stop fighting yourself, you almost don't know what he's talking about. "Oh... I was scared." You decided on a simple answer until you're prompted more.

And prompt he does, "what were you scared of, angel?"

You melt into the way he's holding you as he lets slip another sweet nickname. You don't want to think about that, but the logic in the back of your brain says that he deserves to know.

He waits for your brain to catch up and find your words, rubbing your back slowly and looking at you intently.

"I was scared that you would be like... like a bad daddy," you sigh, playing with the fur on one of your stuffed animals. "But you aren't. He was a butthole."

The way he chuckles makes you move from your place on his chest, and you giggle at the feeling. "A butthole?"

"Yeah!" You sit up, groaning as your sick body protests. You look down at him, and he can see the change in your mindset. Your eyes are a window to your soul; and right now your soul is small and putting all of your trust in him not to squish you. "But you aren't. You're... the best."

"Are you feeling small, Baby?"

You bite your lip. He notices you do that a lot in little space, even in the short amount of time it's been. "Yeah..."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Please say yes. Please say yes. Please let me stay. Please say-

"Yes. If you want to?" Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes. Please don't leave me-

"Of course I want to."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    It's beautiful outside about a week later. The park has people few and far between because it's a weekday, you used a vacation day to spend it with Seonghwa.

    His job made things harder to work around, but you were more than willing to hop around weird schedules and hidden dates.

    The sun is beginning to set on the horizon. It paints the sky pink and orange. Birds are flocking together. The leaves and flowers blow with the gentle breeze. You're sitting on some cement steps next to a large tree.

    "Are you one of those people who bruise easily?" He asks out of nowhere.

   "What?" You look over at him with wide eyes. Lately, if something he says even has a hint of anything strange in it out of context; your body goes into fight or flight. You blame it on your trust issues, getting used to being in a relationship again.

    "Do you bruise easily?" He repeats himself as he gestures to the mark on your arm.

    "Oh," you sigh a laugh, rubbing over the bruise, "I guess I am. I hit it on a filing cabinet yesterday."

    "Awe," he leans and kisses it softly, "My Baby needs to be careful."

    "I'll be careful," you smile as you rest your forehead on his.

    These past two months have been beautiful. You're starting to think you've met 'the one'. Besides the little overbearing things here and there, or the strange look in his eye when you get too casual with Yeosang, Seonghwa is the man of your dreams.

    He even suggested that you called him 'Mommy' while in little space so that you never connect him with the 'Daddy' who mistreated you. He says he likes it better that way, anyway. He always been more traditionally 'motherly' when caring for others.

   You can't argue with that. He really is. Soft, and nurturing, and beyond attentive. And his eyes light up when you say it.

    "Give me a kiss," you implore him, fingers dragging through his grown out hair gingerly. You'll be sad when he has to cut it. He lets you put it in pigtails and braids. He lets you play with it until you both fall asleep whenever you spend the night together. It's only been a few times, but it's the best sleep he's ever gotten. He finds it hard to sleep without you most nights, now.

    "Can't say no to that," he rejoices as he cups one of your cheeks, bringing you in close and kissing you just the way that makes you putty in hands.

    You sigh into the kiss; leaning to follow him as he pulls away, making him chuckle, "we're in public, Baby."

    "Mh, let's go to my place."

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    You get a message from him during the work day the day after that. He should be busy. You are busy.

    You get another. Your phone is lying face down on your desk as you make copies.

    It goes off quite a few times.

    When you finally sit down, your eyes widen.

    HWA<3 SENT SIX MESSAGES.

    TWO MISSED CALLS FROM HWA<3.

    You open them up quickly.

   1:32PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. Baby, don't freak out

   1:32PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. Just promise you'll stay calm, okay?

   1:33PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. I swear to God, I'll take care of this

   1:35PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. You're busy at work? I hope so

   1:35PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. Don't look online. Don't read any of it, okay?

   1:37PM. HWA <3 SENT A MESSAGE. I'll meet you at your place

   "What..." You look at the time. 1:52. There was still hours until the work day ended.

    Against his text, you open up Google. You pause for a moment. He didn't even say what happened.

    You type in his name, and go to the news section. Your eyes fill with tears immediately.

    All of the latest news articles are about his girlfriend. About you. Thankfully your name isn't on any of them. Thankfully your face is blocked by his in the picture of you sharing a kiss.

    No. No. No. No. No. No.

    You almost forgotten that this was a possibility. You were so wrapped up in his love that you forgot that his entire life is public.

    Against your better judgment, you click on the comments under one of the articles. Some say how cute you look together. Some speculate if you work in the industry. Some are mean.

      You shut off your phone and walk right out of your office building.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

     "She doesn't want to talk to you yet."

    Seonghwa jumps up from his spot sitting leaning against your apartment door. He'd been there for hours. He knocked for a long time. But he didn't get any answer. Your phone went straight to voicemail for a while.

    He comes face to face with the woman who was in the torn picture with you. A few years older, sure, but that's her. "Yejin, right?! Oh my god, is she okay? Did you talk to her? Please-"

    "She's not. She called me to come over and help her with figuring things out."

    "Figure-" He stutters, "what? I'm her boyfriend, I'm the one she should be 'figuring things out' with!"

   "Look, you seem like a good guy. But she isn't used to being in the spotlight. If I had known you were an idol, I'd have smacked her silly for even thinking about dating you."

    He's frozen in his spot, eyes sad and posture slumped.

    "But... she's been really happy with you. I think she just needs some time to, uhm, process. After everything she's been through with Namsun, at least give her that." She seems to notice the confused look in his eyes. "Oh, shit, she hasn't told you..."

    Her phone pings.

    "Is that her?" He jumps, "please, tell her to answer me-"

     "Give me your number."

    "What?" He's more confused than before, but he types it into her phone as she swipes the spare key from the top of the door frame.

    "I'll text you when we're done talking. She really likes you, so you deserve a chance. I'll tell you what she says. But for the love of God," she unlocks the door and steps in, "give her some space."

    

     He only catches a glimpse of you in the living room as she retrieves her phone —

    Before the door is slammed in his face.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

    Time passes. Agonizingly slow.

   Seonghwa got a text from Yejin that said you were still trying to sort your thoughts. And that was all he got.

    Ever since you met, you hadn't gone a day without speaking.

    Now it was bordering on 48 hours.

   He was sitting on the couch with Mingi and Hongjoong, his best friend trying to console him as all he did was stare at whatever was on the television. He hadn't eaten, and he certainly hadn't slept. He'd barely moved.

   Just stared at his phone and waited.

  When his phone pings with a soft and bright tone that he set specifically to you, he throws himself off of the couch. The sudden movement makes the others flinch. He hadn't even lifted a finger in the past two hours.

     He falls to his knees as he grabs his phone, reading the message immediately.

    No...

   The words can't be real, they can't be.

   You tell him that you enjoyed every second with him, that you think he's the best person you've ever been with. But you can't be with him. Not right now. You aren't meant for the spotlight. He is, though. And he should enjoy it. But you can't be with him and have a clear conscience when you know that your very presence in his life causes issues in his career. And you certainly can't deal with the pressure of always being under a microscope. He's strong for being able to handle it, you say. You tell him that maybe in the future you can be together again, or in a different timeline. And at the very end —

    love, your baby

    He loses his fucking mind.

    His phone, which has been being squeezed progressively tighter; finally shatters in his hand. "Hyung!" Hongjoong yelps, stepping forward to make sure he's okay, "what-"

     A scream of pure heartache rips through the apartment. The building. The entire street.

    Mingi slams his hands over his ears and grimaces, looking at Seonghwa with a mixture of sadness and fear.

    He's had episodes like this before. Fits of emotion that couldn't be contained. They usually ended in destruction, but they didn't usually start with it. They didn't start this fast. It was always a slow build of moments when he would become snappy, irritable. They'd grow closer and closer together until one day he just lost it; he couldn't hold himself back anymore. And then destruction would begin.

   But he skipped all of that. A few minutes ago, he was staring blankly at nothing in particular — now he's smashing his fist against his broken phone, yelling.

   Not a lot of words manage to form on his tongue, just shouts and yells of "no" that tell Hongjoong and Mingi to back up because things are about to get uglier.

❝you're my baby, say it to me❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

     You manage to drag yourself to and from work the following two days after you officially broke things off with Seonghwa. Thankfully, since your face wasn't visible in any of the photos, life continued as it did before you met him.

    You kept looking at your phone, expecting to see a message from him. You don't know what you expect it to say - what you expect him to say.

    But you guess he's just as heart broken as you are.

    It's a classic case of right person, wrong time. That's what you tell yourself over and over. Wrong time. Wrong time. Wrong time.

     On your way out of work on the third day, you get a text from Yejin canceling your movie night plans last minute. She's been your rock through it all, so you can't fault her for missing one night of plans.

    Instead, you take a long walk. A long walk. The sky becomes dark and the streetlights flick on overhead as you walk back the way you came hours before.

    You're listening to his groups music on your headphones. You weren't lying when you told them you never heard them. And it was probably a mistake to start now — because his voice does just as much to soothe the ache in your heart as it does to break it. It leaves you somewhere in the middle. But it solidifies the fact that he's born to be an idol. And idols don't date without drama. And you don't want any part of it.

    Most of the lights in your apartment building are off. The sensor light flicks on as you enter your floor, a sigh leaving your lips as you let your fingers relax around your keys.

     The lock doesn't turn when you unlock it. It's already undone. You've been a bit frazzled lately.

     "Damn it, (Y/n)," you mumble to yourself as you hang your keys, flicking the light on as you kick your shoes off. When you turn around, you scream.

    Seonghwa is there. Sitting on your couch with something sad in his eyes, mixed with something... darker.

    "Sweet Mary!" You yell, dropping your phone and bag to the floor. "Hwa?"

    "Hey."

  "H-hey?! What do you mean 'hey'?What are you doing in my apartment?!"

    He gestures to the food on your table infront of him, "Lin's Express."

    "Hwa, please... Don't make me say it again."

    "Please," he stands up quickly, tears in his eyes, "please! Can we just talk? Face to face? I need... I need to know..."

    You suck your lips in, scratching your head as you take in his appearance. He looks... well, wrecked. Like he hasn't slept a wink and he's been crying.

    You already know that you won't change your mind. But you suppose that your text message wasn't the best way to end things. You suppose it's fitting to end things where they started.

    "Fine, we can talk."

   He falls to his knees and bows to you, his forehead on the floor. "Oh, thank you, Baby, thank you, thank you."

    It's silent for a while as you eat, and you can tell he wants to say something; wants to say a lot of things.

    He waits until you're both done eating to do so.

    "I met with Yejin earlier." He says quickly. "I told her I needed closure. To know why you broke up with me."

     "What?" That must be why she canceled your plans.

    "I met her at her office. She told me about Namsun. Told me how he fucked you up so bad that you didn't even trust her for a while. Said that you were probably just relapsing with your trust issues." He speaks slowly, you can barely hear him over the thudding of your heart.

   His figure is starting to get blurry. From your tears and from... something else. Something making your limbs heavy as well. "I don't blame you for not telling me, Baby. I wish you had, but I can see why you didn't. My poor Baby had to deal with such an evil caregiver-"

    "Hwa-"

    "Yejin told me a lot, actually. She opened up like a book. I don't think she's told a lot of people, cause she went on and on. She told me how you met him in school and fell in love and let him into your safe space... your little space. And he corrupted it. Took away your comfort items when you did the smallest thing wrong. Didn't encourage you to be childish. Did nasty things to you..."

    "Hey-"

  "She told me how many times she had to patch up your wounds and help you cover bruises. She told me everything, Baby. She told me about the night you finally ended it with him. How he threw you through the kitchen table and left you for dead. She was so angry, she really cares about you. She was so angry that she cursed his full name and prayed that God burn down his place of work."

    "Why are-"

   "I went there. I went to the restaurant he works at. I got a table. And I waited. I waited until he finally clocked in. Then I sat there and watched him. When they closed, I followed him out. I followed him for a long time. I didn't know what I was going to do, I just knew it was something. He stopped at the edge of the river to smoke a cigarette. And I came up to him. He was an asshole, immediately. I asked him if he knew (Y/n). He said 'I fucked that bitch up good.' And then... I stabbed him in the throat. Again and again and again. When he finally fell over, I got ontop of him and did it more. How dare he speak about you like that, that's all I could think. I wanted to destroy him. And I... I did! I stabbed that bastards neck so many times that his head came off. There was blood everywhere. It was horrible. But the funny thing is, I didn't feel anything. Not a thing. Because he had it coming. He hurt My Baby. So I cut his fucking head off and shoved his useless ass in the river. I'm telling you the truth. I killed that worthless fuck. And I don't regret anything."

He looks you in the eyes the entire time he speaks, holding your head still by cupping your cheeks as you try to look away. He doesn't look away as you begin sobbing and hyperventilating. He doesn't look away. "Don't you get it? You told me that you believe in destiny! This is destiny. Let me love you."

You gasp for air, turning your head back and forth to shake the murders hands away from you. "Oh, god!"

"Shhhh," he kisses your forehead, squishes your cheeks gently. His hands are clean, but you know that they'll always be stained with blood.

     "Do-don't touch me!" You stand up hastily, and the world spins around you.

    "Careful, Baby. Those pills I slipped into your food can make you dizzy-"

    You fall to the floor with a thud before he can reach you. You yell and push at him increasingly weakly as your body gets heavier by the second.

    This has to be some sort of fucked up nightmare. This can't be real. This can't be happening. He can't be doing this-

    But it is. He is.

    He drags your limp figure to the couch and lays you down, wiping your tears with his thumb. "Don't worry, Baby. It's just enough to knock you out."

    "Wh-at the fuck, Hwa?" You whimper as fear finally hits you full force. Primal, bone chilling fear as your body stops listening to your commands. Your vision is spiraling and steadily becoming blurrier and darker.

    "Don't worry, Baby," he repeats himself, leaning over you. His face is the last thing you see before sleep takes you, his voice ringing in your ears —

    "I'll take care of you. Just like I promised."

❝Serendipity❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ｡

[vroomvroomwee]

Crowley is Lucifer

(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)

- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.

- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.

- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway

- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show

- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant

Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here

- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles

- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line

- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank

- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"

- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"

Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"

And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind

- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"

- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky

- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)

- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.

- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel

- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental

- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs

- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago

- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away

- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.

(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)

Edit:

- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK

- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)

- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.

Edit 2:

- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.

- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"

- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)

Edit 3:

- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."

- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.

[vexwerewolf]

Should I read homestuck

tl;dr: no

actual answer: yes, but with some extremely important caveats.

Firstly, because Adobe shitcanned Flash, you can now no longer experience Homestuck in the form it was intended upon release... unless you download the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. This act of unbelievable, nay, saintly generosity by Homestuck's most dedicated fans allows you to experience Homestuck as it was intended - as close as is humanly possible.

"As close as is humanly possible" is the key phrase here. One indelible part of the original Homestuck experience was UPDATE! Homestuck would sometimes go weeks or even months (and later, years) between updates. I wasn't on Tumblr back in the day, but at the peak of Homestuck, even if you knew nothing else about it, you'd know when an update dropped because Tumblr's net traffic would increase something like three to fourfold. People would go apeshit bananas about whatever new revelations the Huss would drop on us.

You also need to realise that Homestuck is a product of its time and while its takes on sexuality and gender identity was pretty progressive (for its time), Huss did use the r-slur a bunch.

While we're on the subject of the author, Andrew Hussie (of whom my current understanding is that they have not changed name but go by they/them nowadays) is, in the most diplomatic possible terms, a very unique person. They are, at times, a visionary storyteller with genuinely fascinating ideas. At other times, they come off as kinda spiteful towards their readers.

Without meaning to dip into spoilers, some story beats seem (in my opinion) almost intentionally calculated to upset, irritate or mock certain fans. It never rises to the sheer vicious contempt that Steven Moffat had towards Sherlock's fanbase, but it does leave a bad taste in my mouth whenever I go back.

Additionally, and this is where a sort of birds-eye-view spoiler is unavoidable, the story suffers from the Game of Thrones pitfall of repeatedly increasing its own complexity by adding new plot threads without resolving existing ones, eventually leading to fatigue on the part of both the reader and the author. The arcs of a lot of characters just straight up get abandoned, while a couple of characters take an unnecessarily large amount of screen time.

There's one character in particular that the author openly states within the narrative (the author exists within the world of the story. It's... a whole thing) that they favour, and whose behaviour the story is warped to accommodate. You'll know exactly who I'm talking about almost the moment they show up.

Another reason I say that it's not really possible to read Homestuck as it was originally intended is because a lot of the shit that happens in it fits into the zeitgeist of the internet at the time any individual update was written. There's a whole section in the late middle third that is inextricably and very specifically tied to how it was like to use Tumblr in 2012.

Additionally, a lot of things have soured with time. There was the whole Hiveswap debacle (it was first announced in 2012. We got the first act in 2017. We got the second act in 2020. We do not even know if the third act will ever come out.). There were the legal threats. There were the Epilogues and Homestuck 2, which were... how do I put this? Not universally liked. There's been nearly a decade of discourse since Homestuck ended, and a lot of things haven't grown better with age.

All of that being said.

You should read it.

I cannot express to you just how big an impact Homestuck has had on internet culture. Even people who claim to hate Homestuck unconsciously use slang that it invented. Its unique ideas on storytelling, character design and narrative chronology have, in both subtle and unsubtle ways, changed the way millennials and Gen Z tell stories.

A lot of people were inspired to tell stories because of Homestuck - one example I always give to Lancer players is that Kill Six Billion Demons started as a comic on the MSPA forums (before it was homestuck.com, it was MS Paint Adventures), so Homestuck is in an indirect but demonstrable way responsible for the existence of Lancer. The sunglasses that Gideon Nav from the Locked Tomb wears have been explicitly stated by Tamsyn Muir to be Dave Strider's. Toby Fox made music for Homestuck, and worked on large parts of Undertale while living in Andrew Hussie's basement.

We also know someone in the Bluey creative team is a Homestuck, because...

There are subtle but direct references in Bojack Horseman, Hazbin Hotel, Steven Universe, Adventure Time - and those are just the ones that it's easy to prove! In a more general sense, I think there's a lot of cartoon series, movies, games, etc. that would either be very different or wouldn't exist if Homestuck hadn't happened.

It's certainly influenced my work.

I think, being very cautious to manage your expectations, that you should read Homestuck. At the very least, a lot of things people say on Tumblr will start to make, if not sense, a different kind of nonsense.