#good golly. it's been a while huh!

[balladetto]

hh...hii.

[bropunzeling]

i wish you would write a fic about girl!trevor in the girl!leon universe :)

oh gosh oh golly. the thing is if you'd asked about this a year ago it would be girl!trevor and jamie fumbling towards love where trevor figures out she has feelings because someone else hits on jamie and she is soooooo upsetti spaghetti about it which is stupid, obviously jamie can hook up with whOEVER, but this girl seems shallow and like she would just want jamie for SEX and POST ABOUT HIM ON TWITTER, and okay the next girl seems cool and outdoorsy but like is that the kind of girl jamie wants? does he want to hook up with someone who goes hIKING? and so on and so forth until someone (jack? jonesy? sonny?) is like huh seems like the only person good enough for jamie is you and trevor is like yeah!!! wait,,,

but NOW given the TRADE of it all my thoughts are: summer romance babyyyyyy. trevor brute forcing a summer hang out and getting so invested in having a good time (while refusing to examine why, exactly, she is so very invested in them having a good time, exactly how they used to in anaheim). however. there is so much tension. swimming and hanging out on a boat becomes a new game of "how long is too long to look at someone's abs". perhaps trevor refuses to layer up and has to borrow jamie's flyers branded hoodie and has weird mixed feelings about it. jamie keeps talking about philly and trevor gets horribly jealous about him making all these new friends and going to mexico without her. trevor letting slip how much the trade rumors about HER are fucking her up. jamie being super conscientious, the way he always has been around trevor, only now trevor is wondering what would happen if his hand touched lower on her back, or higher on her thigh. she thinks she might be into it. she kind of wants to throw up about it. she kind of wants to throw up about how nothing is the way it used to be but also she might want it to be different than it used to be. they get caught in a summer rainstorm and jamie's shirt is plastered to his chest and there's rain clinging to his eyelashes and the urge to kiss him hits trevor like a freight train. maybe she will

idk i just want.... longing but also navigating being a loud obnoxious woman whose team has actively given up on her yk?????? but also her suddenly wanting to kiss jamie so bad it makes her look stupid

[cartoon0bssesedb1tch]

My angel ♡︎

Lucifer x fem! Fallen angel! reader

Summery: Lucifer and reader have been friends since Lucifer was still in heaven but sadly separated when he fell. What happened when the two are reunited but reader has experienced something that concerns Lucifer.

!Warnings!: sexual assault , bullying, abuse, violence . Also Adam’s a dick. (If you like him I’m sorry it just felt right to the story)

A/n: hii! So this the first time I’m writing something here in a while so I hope you enjoy this! XDDD

𖦹

Freedom.

That’s what she felt when she fell.

She felt free to speak her mind and not be judged, she felt free to agree with him…Lucifer.

Although, the two shared the same dream, (y/n) decided to stay quiet since she was scared of the seraphims and was scared to also be like him, fallen.

But it changed when Lucifer’s daughter came for a meeting in heaven.

*𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌*

“Oh my goodness! It’s you!”

Charlie heard behind her right before she entered the room for the meeting in heaven. She saw an angel, who looked oddly familiar to her.

“Wait? You know me?” She asked. “Well, of course, being the daughter of the king of hell gives you quite the impression up here” the angel said while smiling but stopped when she saw the worried look on Charlie’s face.

“Oh no! Not in a bad way! Well, at least not for me, I always knew that Lucifer’s daughter will more like him.”

The younger demon sighed in relief “ oh that’s good- wait you know my dad? Like personally?” She asked.

“Oh I’m so sorry! Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, my name is (y/n).”

‘(Y/n)… that’s right! That was dad’s best friend when he was in heaven!’ Charlie thought. “Wait- so you don’t hate him?”

Hate him? She could never hate him.

“Heavens no! He was my best friend, my only friend actually…” (y/n) said. “How is he? I heard about the divorce, it must tough for him…”

“He’s fine? I honestly don’t know… when he’s around he seems all cheery but I notice that it’s not really… sincere, you know? As if he’s trying to mask his feelings just to make others feel better.” Charlie said sadly.

(Y/n) sighed “I wish I was there to help him…”. The two stood in comfortable silence as if a mother and a daughter would. “Oh golly! Look at the time! You don’t wanna be late for the meeting, now do you?” She said while slightly pushing Charlie to the doors of the room. “I hope the meeting goes well, Charlie. I’ll see you inside” (y/n) said right before Charlie goes in.

She stood there in silence, and disappointment not at Lucifer or Charlie.

But herself that she couldn’t even be by his side at his lowest.

He still is her best friend…

… And first love…

Almost tearing up she stood in front of the door to the meeting room until…

“Heya babe, whatchu doing here?!”

Adam.

The one person she despises most.

“Are you fucking crying?! That’s hilarious! Well what are crying about hmm?” He asked with fake sympathy in his voice.

“It’s non of your business” she said.

“Yeah probably about that guy that literally fallen from heaven just to not to see your face” he said

Although she never took his words seriously, this one really hurt.

“Well you know I can satisfy you in ways that guy wouldn’t even think of” he said while putting his hand on her waist.

It got lower and lower…

“Please stop-“

“Adam” the voice of Sera the head seraphim was heard. And immediately his hand left her body. “The meeting is starting”

“Yeah right we were just going in” he said. He waited for the seraphim to go inside. When she did he didn’t hesitate but throw a punch right in the angel’s face.

“You fucking bitch! You really want sera to fucking think of me as the bad guy huh?! Well, next time it won’t be just your face you’ll have to cover” he said while going inside the room.

She sat there yet again in silence. She took out a pocket mirror that she had and some foundation.

Because it was not the first time …

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

When she fell felt even happy to out of there.

Until she hit the ground breaking her wings and most of the bones in her body.

She saw shades of red in the sky and was the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious

Lucifer’s pov:

I was in my office sorting some paperwork I don’t even know what it was, until I heard something crash.

Or rather someone…

I rushed outside since I can’t just leave the person alone to suffer.

The first I saw was wings. White, beautiful wings, although cover in blood since they were injured. The blood was gold that meant one thing.

It was an angel. A fallen angel.

I quickly went to check the angel’s other injuries so I turned them around only to find out…

It was (y/n)… my best friend from the beginning of time. My (y/n)… wait what was I thinking she probably met some tall hunk while I was out of heaven.

I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on helping (y/n). I took her to my room and carefully laid her on my bed.

Thankfully she was breathing and was starting to heal since angels can heal faster. (a/n: idk if it’s actually real but for the sake of the plot k go with it )

What did she do to fall? She was always so kind to everyone and was cautious not to talk too loudly about things that were forbidden by the seraphims.

What happened?

No one’s pov:

The first thing she felt when waking up was pain in her back specifically her wings.

When she opened her eyes she was confused and also scared because she didn’t recognize the room she was in. She groaned in pain while trying to get up.

“Oh no no no don’t do that, they’re still healing, you should rest” that voice.

The voice she loves oh so much. It was him.

“Lucifer?” She asked while her eyes are filling up with tears. Even though it hurt and she really shouldn’t do that, she didn’t care. She got up as fast as she could and wrapped her arms around him, crying in his chest.

Those were tears of happiness and relief that she finally got to see him again.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m here shh don’t cry” he told her in the softest tone ever as if she would break if he had spoken any louder.

“Im just- I’m so happy to see you” she said while looking up at him smiling through her tears.

“I’m really happy to see you too, sweetheart, but seriously you should rest. You still aren’t fully healed .” He said while picking her up and gently laying her down on the bed. “You know, I was really worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

“What? How long was I asleep?” She asked genuinely confused.

“It was only a couple of days, don’t worry. But my back did start to hurt because I was sleeping on the couch” wait what.

Then she realized, it was his room. And that was the way he saw her for the first time in eons, she probably looked terrible. That brought tears to her eyes yet again.

“I am so sorry, lucifer. I-I didn’t mean-“ she was cut of by her own sob while Lucifer quickly went to comfort her.

“Hey shh it’s okay. Really, I don’t care if i break my back, I just want you to feel better.” He said while holding her close to him.

Boy he really did miss this.

Eventually (y/n) calmed down and said “well I’m glad that you’re the one that found me and not some random weirdo on the street”

He laughed softly. “Yeah well I’m glad as well. Speaking of finding you, why exactly are you here?”

* 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 *

“Are you fucking kidding me?” (Y/n)’s voice was heard in the meeting room.

“(Y/n) use proper language-“ the head seraphim was cut off the angel’s enraged voice.

“I don’t give a flying FUCK about the language. But extermination of human souls just like us. What is wrong with you?!” She exclaimed.

“Ooh the nice little girl is getting feisty ” Adam said sarcastically.

“And YOU! You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. If i were to decide, you would be in hell in no time” she said to him.

“Careful or else-“

“Or else what? You will throw me to hell? To me it seems much more nicer than here. If you gonna do it, knock yourself out. Go fuck yourselves, all of you.”

* 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 *

“You really did that?” Lucifer asked shocked. He never thought that (y/n) can even say curse words.

“Yeahh… well now I’m here.” She said smiling at him lovingly.

Lucifer’s pov:

I’ve missed her so much. Her voice, her eyes everything about her.

God I love her…

“Wait what”

Shit. I said that out loud.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkk Lucifer calm down breathe in ,breathe out. SHIT NO how can i mess up this badly already. I mean she just got here and you’re telling her that you’re so stupid why did you do tha-

“I love you too, Lucifer”

“What.”

No one’s pov:

“I love you too, ever since you left heaven I realized that more and more everyday but I also knew I could never be with you. You were in hell and I was up there in heaven also you were with lillith-“ (y/n) was cut off by Lucifer after he calmed down from his internal panicking.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, because now you’re here with me and nobody is going to change that” he said while leaning, glancing at her lips until their lips touched.

It was something that both of them wanted for a long time and it’s finally happening.

His hand went to cup her cheek and the other one went to her waist.

But then she flinched way.

She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as if protecting herself from something.

Lucifer did know what caused this or why was this happening but he knew he had to help.

He went closer to her but not touching her to not trigger her even more. “(Y/n), my love, it’s me, it’s okay” he said trying calm her down.

She looked up at him. She was scared. But why?

When she saw it was him, she started to clam down “I’m sorry it’s just something that happened u-uhm it was-“

“Love, it’s okay you don’t need to explain if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that I will never do anything to hurt you. I love you and I mean it.” He said softly. “Darling, is it okay if I hug you?”

She nodded and was immediately wrapped in a warm hug.

She realized she was safe, with Lucifer, finally.

☆

[potatoqueensays]

hey u shoudl iek,,,, tootally tlak about that reverve falls au rehash you said you were amking,...... for like.,.,,, totally no reason,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,,, dont mind the voice recorder dont mind it im not the fbi wdym we;re in an interrogation room what gaslighting isnt a thing ure tripping anyways

HI!!! HI HI HI!!!! ANON HELLO!!!!

...So yes!!! I am working on a teensy weensy little rehashing of the Reverse Falls au. I'm sure as we all know, the original is a bit....outdated so to say. What with suspicious art and some questionable decisions here and there.

I'm not saying mine is better! No way no how, I'm absolutely sure there's a bunch of people out there with something better. This is just a little thing I'm working on with a friend of mine ( @danklemckspankle ) and how we would imagine a reverse falls au. Rather than it being low-key swapping personalities, it swaps roles as it should. And I'd like to think the premise is exciting as well! It makes me very very happy to talk about it as it's been plaguing my mind for a week or two. Tbh ever since book of bill came out....

So!! Lemme talk about it a little!!! I hope you're ready for a little mystery wink wink

Ahem. So! Our little story starts in a little shack called "The Shack of Telepathy"!! (So original yeah I know)

Bud Gleeful is the shack owner, living as a single father with his son Gideon Gleeful. Bud makes money by being a tourist trap, grabbing people in under the premise of reading their minds! (Gravity falls people are just easy to read but shhh don't tell Toby)

Gideon is a little 9 year old with a heart of gold and full of promise. It's a new summer in Gravity Falls and he has big plans! He wants to have the best adventure he can, and hopefully get a new badge on his vest!!

Yes, this little guy wants to be a boy scout!! Unfortunately, there is no chapter in Gravity Falls, so he's gonna have to make one himself!

Here's my little drawing ref of Gideon. Look at him, he's so squishable

With his dad's pin machine, he makes badges whenever he does something good or a big accomplishment! (His pride and joy badge is the one he made with his dad on Father's Day :] )

He really wants to have a good summer. He hopes, by golly, he hopes.

Now a neighborhood down, is town darling Pacifica Northwest. Her family isn't as rich in this as canon, so her family sits as upper middle class at most. Modern suburbia yk? Her family wants to set an example for the people of Gravity Falls, taming the weirdness out or whatever they say.

Pacifica just wants a summer where she can have a little relief. Away from the eye of her parents and the public. Just one day where she can be herself!

Little drawing ref of Pacifica. She still wears a bunch of makeup. (Just....maybe one less powdering. Maybe.) Also she's 12.

So she goes walking in town while her parents are busy planning their big weekly barbeque or whatever. She comes across this kid named Gideon. He compliments her sense of style and makes an offhanded comment about making a badge or something.

Now Pacifica, despite however much her parents influence her, starts her own trends and styles. (With the permission of her parents) So when this kid compliments her she goes on a (grateful) rant and they hit it off!

Gideon tells her about his dad's shack, and all the business business business Bud does. Pacifica talks about her parents planning events every week and, begrudgingly, church. They scurry off into the woods to just explore, and be kids!

On their way as Gideon is messing around with nature, they come across this metal tree. Weird, huh. They do some digging around and press buttons, when a crater opens in the ground!! Pacifica goes to check it out, pushing Gideon back in case of danger.

What they see is a journal! Very dusty and cobwebbed, but a journal with the number 3 painted on it. They pick it up and peruse through it. Pacifica is skeptical at first, wondering if it's part of any tourist trap Gideon's dad planned. When Gid says no, they realize the journal mayyyy have some merit. With how weird Gravity Falls is all the time and the little things that happen here and there, the author of this journal could be telling the truth.

So when they go back to the shack, the talk about the journal and what it could mean.

Now I haven't planned too far ahead to make a full writing of each episode, barely even the pilot, but! This is the gist of it in my head.

As you know, yes I mentioned Ford was evil! And I'm keeping a little of the previous reverse falls lore for this (surrounding the pines. Other things will be different!)

Maybe I'll make a post talking about the pines, but y'know. I just wanna talk about the general feeling I have for it in my head.

Have a bonus doodle of Gideon reading the journal (for an author who doesn't deserve it)

I'm very excited to work on this. Mayyyybe I'll share a bit of the roles with you that are swapped. Juuuust to keep interest ;)

Bud -> Stan

Stan -> Mixture of Pacifica and Gid's parents

Pacifica & Gideon -> The mystery twins ofc

Wendy -> Robbie

Soos -> Dude he's just himself here. Soos is perfection and cannot be interchanged (he goes undercover for Stan and works at the shack every other day. Undercover name is Deuce because of that one guy that looked like him 👍)

Shitty discord whiteboard sketch of Soos :]

Ford -> Bill tbh. How else is he gonna be so evil?

I'll probs make another post talking about the pines family, but I'd like to make colored refs of them first y'know?

I hope this catches your interest. Other characters are reeeeally integral to the plot and I'd like to keep the mystery just for a little moment 💥💥

Anyway ty for asking I'm so very happy to share this with someone that's not already aware of it 🎉🎉

[punsmaster69]

9/MAR/20XX

"Uuugh."

frisk groaned as they wiped up a mess of orange juice.

"How did I even manage to miss that badly?"

"We are all a little loopy in the mornings."

"Golly. The cup was RIGHT there... and yet you still missed!"

"Maybe you should leave that to Toriel still, huh?"

flowey laughed at frisk's misery.

"Flowey, be nice."

"...Though, I am more than willing to assist you if you need help, my child."

"I can pour it normally. Just... not right now, apparently."

"like she said - it's mornin' still, and you just woke up. don't beat yourself up over it."

i glance to flowey.

"and don't let any flowers beat you up over it, either."

"I'll say what I want!"

a stern look from toriel.

"....."

he huffs and goes back to picking the cereal out of his marshmallows.

toriel gave this a disapproving look too, but it's a regular occurrence.

she helped frisk pour another glass of orange juice, and they slumped back in their chair, deflated. don't know if i've ever seen a kid look more upset while drinking oj.

"Are you still planning to follow Sans home after you eat?"

they looked at me.

"paps won't be back until around ten."

"I'm good to hang out with you until then."

"alright."

"Flowey, will you be-"

"Staying here."

"I don't want to be around those two nincompoops alone for two hours."

again, an occurrence too regular for her to bother saying anything about anymore. these days, she almost doesn't even notice the insults sometimes. i think everyone else tunes them out a little, too.

——

"...."

"so, are backwards shoes the new thing?"

"..What?"

frisk paused and looked down.

"........"

"How."

they started walking again.

"No wonder they felt weird."

"you wanna stop and fix 'em?"

"I'm gonna take them off at your house anyway, so I'm gonna just deal with it until then."

"well, c'mon - this way. i know a little shortcut."

——

a ball of paper bounces off my skull.

frisk slams their head into the side of the couch, not accounting for the fact that it'd hurt.

"Aggh-"

"careful."

uncrinkling the ball, there was the start of a drawing with scribbles where the legs would be.

i folded the page back up, and they loosely smacked it out of my hand.

the paper smacked them in the face.

". . ."

".....jeez."

"lady luck's got a vendetta against you, huh?"

sitting bolt upright, they shouted.

"Not just that, but I keep messing stuff up - and then having the WORST luck with just about everything else!!"

throwing their arms up in the air...

and immediately hitting my brother on accident, who just entered.

"Oh mY GODDDDD-"

curling forward into a ball.

"welcome home, bro. you're a bit early."

"HELLO..."

looking with concern at the human groaning annoyedly on the couch in front of him.

"...UM."

"IF YOU'RE UPSET ABOUT HITTING ME, WORRY NOT! I AM A-OKAY!!"

"IT TAKES MUCH MORE THAN THAT TO HURT SOMEONE AS STRONG AS I!"

"not just that - their luck's been shot all day."

"And shit."

he sat himself onto the couch and dragged frisk like a stuffed animal to his chest for a hug.

"HAVE NO WORRIES - THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE TO BALANCE YOUR POOR LUCK OUT WITH MY OWN INCREDIBLE LUCKINESS!!"

"AND NOW THAT I'M HERE... WHAT ACTIVITIES SHALL WE DO, HUMAN?!"

".....Can we just sit here?"

"WH-"

"sounds good to me."

"WAIT, WHY??"

"Nothing bad can happen if I do nothing at all."

"sound logic."

"NO, IT ISN'T! NOTHING GOOD CAN HAPPEN, EITHER!!"

"If you're here, that's good. That happened and I didn't do anything to cause it."

"WELL, YES. BUT THAT WAS INEVITABLE. I WAS ALWAYS TO COME HOME AND HANG OUT - AS ALREADY PLANNED."

"And I wanna hang out by doing nothing."

"......"

"we could at least put on a movie."

"...."

"DOES THAT SOUND NICE, FRISK?"

"...Yeah."

"and i'm pretty sure we've got popcorn still."

"we'll do a movie night."

"IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER FOR SURE!"

——

they dumped the bowl of blackened kernels into the trashcan.

they sighed defeatedly.

"..W-WELL. THAT'S OKAY! WE'LL JUST MAKE YOU ANOTHER BAG."

he opened the cabinet and grabbed the popcorn box, reaching in and... patting the empty inside.

"......."

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮.

frisk pounded their head against the sink door. i put my hand between the door and their forehead to lessen the impact of the blows.

my brother gently pulls them away from the door by the shoulders, turning them around.

"NOW, NOW. THIS IS OKAY, TOO!"

"WE STILL HAVE-"

"me and undyne split the last of the chips the other day."

"...WE CAN STILL STOP BY THE STORE AND GET YOU A SNACK THAT DOESN'T REQUIRE ANY PREPARATION!"

"here, i know a shortcut."

"Another?"

"yep."

"COME ALONG!"

——

exhaling every bit of air they had, frisk looks between the cash on the counter, and the total on the screen - thirty cents short.

quickly appearing beside them, papyrus moves all their cash back into their bag (slipping an extra ten in) and pats frisk's head as he hands it back.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, FRISK. I WAS GOING TO PAY ANYWAY!"

the way they looked at the machine, you'd think it was about to reject papyrus' card or blow up or something.

it didn't. he quickly waved goodbye to the cashier as he scooped up frisk's items into a bag himself. he passes it to frisk, and they take his hand. with the other, he grabs onto my hand.

"MAYBE WE CAN WALK! FRESH AIR SHOULD DO EVERYONE SOME GOOD."

halfway down the sidewalk, a branch catches frisk's bag. the bag tears; their chips and candy fall to the floor - sweet tea rolling away.

i stop it with my foot, picking the other items up as well.

"i'll pack 'em. no problem."

taking the torn bag and shoving it into my pocket, we continue walking.

a bit further on, papyrus spots a puddle on the side of the road. spontaneously grabbing frisk and lifting them up, a car speeds past and sprays him with water - i just barely get out of the way.

frisk remains unsoaked, thanks to my brother's quick thinking.

"...WHEN DID IT RAIN?"

"sometime last night."

"AH. I SEE."

"Thank you Papyrus. I'm sorry."

"DON'T BE! IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT."

"maybe we take a shortcut after all."

——

the rest of the day, papyrus is extremely diligent in making sure nothing else happens to frisk. in the end he secretly seems thankful for the doing-nothing choice.

it really is easier to keep someone out of bad luck's way when they're sitting still.

papyrus makes tomato soup for dinner, deciding nothing can go wrong with that. to be absolutely certain, he cools it to nearly room temp before serving any to them. when frisk almost spills it, he hands them a straw.

"...isn't that a bit much?"

"It's fine. Not like I haven't used one for soup before."

"CERTAINLY NO WAY TO SPILL IT WITH A STRAW."

succeeding again, he messages tori to say he'll keep them just until bedtime.

"YOU NEED A BAD-LUCK COUNTERBALANCE LIKE ME AROUND TODAY."

frisk nods in silent agreement.

both me and frisk are impressed at his ability to navigate around unlucky situations throughout the night, but i suppose he 𝗵𝗮𝘀 been dealing with 𝘮𝘦 forever. avoiding messes is basically a special skill of his at this point.

when it was time for frisk to go home, paps was still pretty worried and accompanied them all the way home - apparently even going as far as to tuck them in himself, according to toriel.

[askthe-r-m-au]

Oh golly gee willakerz! It's that time again!!

I can't write for shi-

Also finally this is the part where Voz is introduced so I can answer some things about his existence-

[The Ring-Misstress | Chapter 3: The project]

There was about 1 more day until the big launch of The Amazing Digital Circus computer game. The recently promoted Co-Ringmaster had lay awake in her bed the night before. All this combined with the constant looming need of an exit was a whole lotta pressure. It's probably the exact opposite on Caine's end...

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

Within the circus walls, outside of bounds was Caine. He, too, had been up all night (but for a few more reasons). They had much less time than he thought they would. He may have to continue adding the finishing touches throughout the week. Hopefully, it shouldn't be too much trouble. I mean, he does have Pomni to help him and- POMNI! HE'D NEARLY FORGOTTEN TO WAKE HER UP!

The ringmaster quickly pulled out his WackyWatch.

☆Ah, it's only been 5 minutes...☆

☆5 MINUTES!?!☆

Gadzooks, he'd better hurry if they wanted time to prepare for tomorrow.

Making his way towards her door, he couldn't help but realize. After the other day, he'd felt awfully strange. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity of Bubble not being there. He'd never thought that he could ever let a virus in under his watchful eyes. How long had Bubble been like that? Had he just gotten infected by something sometime before or something else? Something about his absence made him uneasy...

Buuuuut now was not a good time to think about all that! He couldn't spend time thinking about such silly things when they had such important matters!! He had such to to and- Okayy... get ahold of yourself, Caine! What is wrong with you today??

He took a quick breath and reached his hand to the door (witch was very shaky when did that happen???).

Okay... you can do this...

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

☆GOOD MORNING, POMNI!!☆

Pomni jumped from her bed, startled at the fact that Caine actually used the door for once. Not that she minded.

♧Oh- uh- morning, Caine... wh-♧

The ringmaster cut her off impatiently.

☆COME NOW MY DEAR FRIEND! WE HAVE LOTS TO DO TODAY!! WE HAVE A VERY BIG DAY TOMORROW!! NO TIME TO WASTE!☆

♧Huh? Hold on, what're you-♧

She looked up at Caine and back down at herself, recalling the last few days' events.

♧Oh... alright, one sec.♧

☆Great!! Meet me out here. I have something I wanna show you!!☆

She grabbed her hat and cane, sitting on a small shelf next to her bed, and headed out to where Caine said he'd be.

♧Alright... what's up?♧

☆I'm glad you asked!! See, I've been working on this for a while now, and I thought it'd be great if we could work together to finish up on my most recent project!!☆

He snapped his fingers, and in front of Pomni stood a little model. Closely resembling her old jester outfit, but more green instead of red, except for the additional party hat. Which was also lined with teeth?? Eh, it makes sense if Caine designed it.

Other than that, he looked... rather adorable. The little guy opened his eyes, taking in his new surroundings as Caine began to speak.

☆This little Fella is Voz. Or a V.irtual O.ffspring Z.imulation!☆

♧Wait, doesn't that start with a- nevermind...♧

☆I know, I know, it just rolled off the tongue more. Aaaaanyway, this little guy will be able to get along with the other players, as well as help the rest of us with minor tasks! Or, yaknow, just do other kid stuff.☆

♧Such as..?♧

☆A- well, let's ask him!! Cmon, little buddy, say hello!☆

Voz took a big gasp of air before attempting to speak. Except his words came out all glitchy and distorted. You could hardly make out what he was saying.

[H- h- ɛl·l -o¿ -lo-?]

Voz covered his mouth, and another tiny gasp escaped. Pomni looked at Caine in confusion.

☆Heheh... so maybe he can't speak... b-but that's where YOU come in!! Your job is to help program him, you can start by giving him a voice!☆

Pomni looked down at Voz then back up at Caine.

♧Well how? I don't even know what he's supposed to sound like.♧

☆Well... what do YOU think he sounds like??☆

Pomni thought for a second. She thought long and hard. She hardly remembered anything about children herself. She turned to look at Voz one more time.

[...hello?]

Out came the voice of a little boy, around 6 or 7.

He gasped and covered his mouth again. But this time in surprise rather than shame.

Pomni's eyes lit up. It actually worked.

♧Hey-♧

Caine flew in right beside Pomni, nearly shoving into her.

☆Welcome to the circus, little fella!! I'm your creator Caine, and this is your Co-creator, Pomni!☆

Caine gestured towards himself, and then his Co-host.

Voz Looked at the two standing together. First Caine, then Pomni. Caine, then Pomni. Caine, Pomni. He softly spoke up once again.

[...Papa? Mama?]

The pair looked awkwardly at each other then back at the child infront of them.

☆Oh my stars how could I forget? These things adapt to the first thing they see.☆

♧Huh??♧

☆I'm pretty sure that's a kid thing, just go with it.☆

She looked back down at Voz, who stared back, anticipating an answer.

♧I... yaknow what? Sure. Just- you can call us that.♧

He looked up at his "Parents" with huge eyes. His smile almost stretched all across his face. He didn't need to say anything for the two to know he meant "thank you".

♧Heh, you're very welcome-♧

Before she could finish, Voz ran up to the both of them and hugged their legs.

Pomni and Caine accepted his embrace. Looking down at their new project, all that dead from before? Was gone.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hectic after all.

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

RAH OMAIGOSH IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET BACK INTO WRITING THIS-

I procrastinated alot-

Expect chapter 4 in like...

20 years

Anyway yall know the drill, ask them stuff, ask ME stuff, and... uh-

Bye-bye

[pastacurls]

Hi tumblr I HATE this episode with a burning passion.

I cannot fucking do this, not even 5 minutes into the episode these mfs are like “who’s gonna replace tsubasa and yu for our last battle!?” And IMMEDIATELY gingka’s little gay ass goes “kyoya! 😄”

THEN for once in his life kenta is like “hey guys maybe i could do this?” And these mfs GASP???? Like yall were there last season wtf are you gasping for???? You know how capable he is. The only one with ANY right to gasp is masamune and the mf has still seen him fight so like????

And when kenta starts being like “I going with both tsubasa and yu during the selection battle! And I’ve been training really hard since then! Please gingka!” (Which is heartbreaking in itself bc I will never shut up about their relationship) GINGKA FUCKING GOES “ehhhh” like?!?!?! Bro??? What are you doing that for wtf. And when kenta is all like “or maybe not 😅” my man switches up and he’s like “or maybe yes!”

JUST WHEN I THINK THAT FINALLY KENTA GETS SOMETHING IN THIS FUCKING SHOW. THE CHINESE REP TEAM SHOWS UP.

Listen I love them as much as the next guy, I would die for chi-yun but MF GET OUTTTTT. THIS ISNT ABOUT YOU. LET HIM HAVE THIS PLEASE.

Kenta actually speaks up for himself and he’s like “no we already decided it’s gonna be me!” Their leader is all like “okay so we’re gonna battle for the position! 🤪” which is just fucking ridiculous like yall have no reason to be here in the first place.

Then while they’re battling FUCKING MASAMUNE AND GINGKA JOIN IN BC???? THEY WANT TO?????

And when they all about to attack gingka’s dad shows up and he’s like “no lmao I’m gonna be the replacement for gan gan galaxy!” And hikaru is like “erm actually that’s not allowed bc ur an adult! And also ur running part of this.”

So they start arguing again and hikaru pulls out her rule book AGAIN and is all like “former participants may not fill in as replacement members.” So everyone is crushed cuz obviously the Chinese rep team has already participated.

But KENTAS lookin all down and I’m like “huh????” Cuz my man HAS NOT participated before.

Tell me why. Tell me why the SELECTION BATTLES ARE THE REASON HE CANT DO THIS. I hate yall just let the little man have this PLEASEEEE

Tldr; they keep doing my favorite character dirty and I’m about to fucking lose it oh my good golly goodness.

[bundrops-n-fluffytops]

Welcome Home Agere Fic - Sing Me to Sleep

Characters: Little!Howdy Pillar, CG!Barnaby B. Beagle

Setting: Howdy’s Bodega (Checkout Desk, Upstairs Breakroom)

Premise: Barnaby notices that his good pal Howdy is overworking himself to the point of losing sleep. Concerned and determined to help his buddy out, he decides to sing him a lullaby to help him sleep. The next morning, he discovers something about Howdy he initially didn’t think he did.

Author’s Note: Another agere fic, this time with Howdy!! I kinda headcanon Barnaby and Howdy as childhood friends, like Barnaby befriended him while he stayed at the farm with his ma, so here it’s mentioned for a bit at the beginning. Hope that’s ok!!

Also the lullaby that Barnaby sings is ai generated, not an original song, so don’t think I write songs too jfkgk

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Ever since the bodega opened in the town of Welcome Home, the lovable yet goofy Barnaby B. Beagle always made a point of visiting. Considering it was run by an old pal of his - that being the ever so hardworking Howdy Pillar - he couldn’t just ignore it! It even had all his favorite things in it; rubber duckies, party horns, endless streams of ribbons, the whole nine! For the price of just a simple trade as well, it was a perfect store!

Of course, it wouldn’t be the same without the man of the hour - or say, caterpillar. Barnaby had always admired the blood and sweat put into every little detail of the bodega, from the paint jobs to the shelving and even to the currency. It was a marvelous sight to see, but he couldn’t expect less from such a diligent and determined shopkeeper. Always toiling and moiling and working himself to the bone to make sure that progress did well and that every customer left with a big smile on their face, he could do no bad.

That… did bring a glaring problem to the surface, however: he did this all the time.

Because his never-ending perseverance and his insistence to make sure that business was booming at the seams, he often tired himself out. And by often, that meant a lot.

The bags under the titular caterpillar’s eyes looked as if they’ve been personally drawn on with permanent marker, with how dark they were. Often times, Barnaby would accidentally catch Howdy almost falling asleep at his checkout desk, but immediately perking up when he noticed that the comedian was watching. He would wake up and catch Howdy still up at the tender hours of night sweeping the floors or wiping the windows or even restocking the shelves.

It was concerning, to say the least. He had occasionally brought up the idea that Howdy could at least lay low for a short while, take a small break. However, the poor shopkeeper would break into a nervous sweat and go, “Oh but who will run the front counter while I’m gone? I’m the only one who works here, I can’t stop now! This shop will go belly-up if I quit here, I just can’t!” It almost broke the dog’s beating heart to see him in such a fit of distress.

He wanted to fix that, and he knew exactly how.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The sun set behind the trees one hot and sweaty evening, and Howdy was finishing up the last of his chores for the night: restocking the shelves, sweeping up any dust and grime, and wiping the front windows squeaky clean. Barnaby took quick note of this and strolled towards him, humming a jovial tune.

“Well howdy do, Howdy! Lovely afternoon we got here, but golly is it sweltering! I feel like I’m on Hell’s front porch with a pipin’ fever right about now, huh?” Barnaby greeted himself, chuckling as he did. Howdy looked up from wiping the front window, rubbing his sleepy lids with his lower right hand and smiling drowsily.

“You’re not wrong Barnaby, heh! I can feel myself melting like a snow cone in Phoenix!” He replied, wiping his forehead of the pooling sweat and turning back to wiping the windows clean. Barnaby snickered, nodding his head to the statement.

An awkward silence fell on the two. Howdy cleared his throat.

“Ahem, uh… what brings you here, ol’ pal?”, he asked, “ya’ need something from my shop? Any horns or… fake teeth or spinning plates?” The shopkeeper began to put up his bucket of suds and washrag before being stopped by the comedian.

“Oh no, I’m fine as frog hair, buddy! I just came to ask ya’ something, if you have the time, of course.” Howdy perked up at the request, but paused and sighed wearily.

“If you’re asking for me to take a break, Barnaby, then no. I’m not letting this business fall because the one man working here-“

He quickly got interrupted.

“Aww, come on Howdy! You’re exhausted and practically sleepwalking, if you keep working in this state you’ll be dead on your feet!” Barnaby protested, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Barnaby, you really don’t understand,” Howdy rebutted, “this is a matter of needing rather than wanting. Anyone and everyone could come, and if they see me lounging around, doing everything but, I’ll be letting them down! Soon the progress of this whole business could go down, and take me with it. I can’t ‘take a break’ because I am literally against doing it.”

Barnaby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Howdy sure dug his heels deep in this business, huh? The titular dog wracked his brain for quite a while, thinking of a good way to pry his four arms away from the building… until something popped up.

“Oh well, I guess you’re right… but I do still have something to ask of you.” Howdy sighed, lifting his head towards him with his brow furrowed.

“Will you at least let me sing something to you?”

This tripped the caterpillar upside for a moment. Sing for him? Why exactly would this dog want to sing for him in the dead of night?

“Uhh… may I ask why? That’s a rather odd question to ask, really,” Howdy questioned the dog.

“Oh, well I had been listening to the radio recently and I happened to stumble upon the most loveliest tune! It had me painting the town red, it was lovely!” Howdy tilted his head curiously.

“Hmmm… well what song was it? I think I may have some records inside so you can sing along.” Barnaby grinned widely. His plan was working perfectly.

“I’m pretty sure it was called…Sweet Dreams and Strawberry Milk? It was a guitar song too, very slow and calming.”

“Hmmm… I don’t seem to have that song on a record, from what I can remember.” Barnaby’s heart dropped.

“Buuuuut I do have a guitar! Maybe you can play it on that?” And just like that, the plan was still in motion.

“Oh, superb! You always seem to have something on you to fix a situation, don’tcha? Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go inside before the wolves start howling!”

Barnaby quickly grabbed Howdy’s free arm and dragged him inside the bodega, leaving behind his sud bucket and rag. After a few quick directions, both the dog and caterpillar made their way to the upstairs breakroom.

The breakroom itself was quite large, to his surprise, it almost doubled as a separate house. In one section of the room, a small kitchenette with an oven, fridge, and sink, along with a sofa, record player, and television. In another section, a large bed spread along the room, with a dresser and closet on one side and a bookshelf on the other. In between both sections was a bathroom that he could conveniently walk into any time he wanted. The breakroom as a whole had a sort of forest or plant theme, with leaves and flower decorations galore, it was like shrinking and walking into Poppy’s garden.

Barnaby made their way towards the second section, sitting down on the edge of Howdy’s bed. Howdy strolled towards the closet, opening and rummaging through. He pulled out a large guitar and walked towards the bed where Barnaby sat, handing over the guitar.

“Do make this quick, ok pal?,” Howdy admonishes, slipping off his shoes and taking off his hat. He might as well get comfortable in case things get too long. Barnaby waved his hand dismissively, holding the guitar in his paws.

“Ahh, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Howdy,” he reassured, “I’ll be quicker than green grass though a goose!” Howdy chuckled at that, smiling slightly.

The comedian took a minute to tune and adjust the chords to the guitar, making sure he wasn’t off-tune, before holding the guitar to his chest. He took a deep breath… and began to sing.

Close your eyes my little one

Drift away to sleep

Dream of fields of strawberries

Growing tall and deep

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Imagine a garden of red

With vines and leaves so green

Picking the ripest berries

For the sweetest milk you've seen

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

As the peaceful lullaby rang throughout the bedroom, Howdy could feel his head begin to cloud up and his eyelids to feel heavy. He suppressed a yawn but caught himself stretching his arms and back.

He then decided that he rest his head for just a moment, if only for a second. He figured he would be awake by the time the song was finished, so it couldn’t be that bad.

As you lay here in my arms

With your eyes closed tight

Let the taste of strawberry milk

Take you through the night

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Sleep now my little one

May your dreams be bright

With strawberry milk in your thoughts

All through the night.

Barnaby cleared his throat after finishing the song, gently placing the guitar to his left. He turned to face Howdy, who had been silent throughout the entire song, to ask him how he felt, but he instead found Howdy fast asleep beside him. How silly of him to drop off mid song, and in his work clothes too! Barnaby snickered to himself at the sight.

He decided that it would be best to stay the night. He pulled the blankets on the bed over the sleeping shopkeeper, tucking him in comfortably, before quietly leaving the bedroom. He made himself towards the other half of the breakroom and towards the couch, and pulled out the longer section to lie down. Turning off the lights and getting comfortable in the process, soon both of them were in a peaceful slumber.

The plan was a success.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Barnaby suddenly awoke to a strange noise.

He blinked himself awake to the sudden sound, trying to make sense of his vision. He could make out the kitchenette and the television, and what couch he was on.

Ah, yes, he was at Howdy’s place.

The sun was pooling through the closed curtains and birds were chirping their morning song, signifying a new morning for the sleepy beagle. He slowly stood up from his position and stretched his arms and back wide behind him, popping anything that needed popping.

His attention soon turned to the strange noise that woke him up. It was shrill and loud, yet desperate, if it made sense. It was occasionally interrupted by a slight hiccup or sniffle, before going right back to the shrillness.

Was that… Howdy?

It had the same voice as Howdy, had the same pitch (albeit a tad higher than usual), he could recognize it from a mile away. But what exactly is making him wail this loud?

He had to go investigate.

Barnaby slowly got up from the couch and quietly made his way through the breakroom towards Howdy’s bedroom. He hesitantly knocked one, two, three times, making sure it was quiet but noticeable.

“Howdy? Is that you in there?” Barnaby asked, hands on hips and his face screwed up into that of concern. If his suspicions were correct that this was indeed his pre-pupated pal, then this was quite out of character of him. He wasn’t that open with his inner feelings as he didn’t want them interfering with work, so hearing him so distressed was… odd.

He was quite surprised to see the door swing open not long after he knocked, but what surprised him more was what answered the door: a shaky and teary-eyed Howdy, covered in a colorful blanket and his thumb halfway in his mouth. It took him by surprise for a bit, before quickly being replaced with a brotherly concern.

“Oh jeez… you okay, bud? What happened?” Barnaby said, resting a gentle paw on the shivering shopkeeper’s shoulder and rubbing it slowly. Howdy only sniffled and hiccuped, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry. The blue beagle took that opportunity to hesitantly wrap his arms around the both of them in a comforting embrace, letting Howdy rest his head on his shoulder.

“Deep breaths, bud… let’s go over here, ok?” Barnaby said quietly and reassuringly, taking one of Howdy’s hands and leading them to the nearby sofa. The titular caterpillar sniffled, wiping his eyes with his hands and popping his free thumb back between his lips. They both trudged towards the comfy cushions, sitting comfortably beside each other with hands clasped gently. Barnaby leaned his friend’s head towards the crook of his neck, letting Howdy rest against him as the bigger dog began to rub his back slowly.

“Hasn’t been your best morning, huh buddy?”, Barnaby said, his voice low and quiet and reassuring. Howdy sniffed, nodding his head silently.

“How’s about I settle here until you’re up and running again, hm?”, the blue beagle suggested, “It don’t seem like you can even walk properly, let alone run a store like this. Not good shape for a guy like you, huh?”

Howdy furiously shook his head no at that notion.

“I know, I know,” the blue dog continued, “you wanna run it. We can always take a day off though, can’t we? It can’t hurt to lay low for at least a day. It’s only about one in a few hundred days, isn’t it?” The small caterpillar sat there for a bit, his head filled with thought. Barnaby scratched his noggin for an idea, then snapped his fingers once it came.

“How about this,” he started, “maybe I can stay and settle with you for the day until you’re feeling better? That way you won’t have to worry about feeling lonely, ok? How does that sound?” Howdy looked down to his feet, wringing his lower hands together in thought. He didn’t want to let the business down, and he felt bad that he was so upset when Barnaby found him.

However, he wasn’t wrong. He had been quite stressed for a few weeks, and he was teetering towards passing out and never getting out of bed. Plus, in his state, how would he run the shop? He could barely talk. It wasn’t an argument at this point, really. He needed this break.

Howdy hesitantly nodded.

“Good to hear, bub,” Barnaby said, squeezing him towards himself a bit tighter. He then stood up and wipe his paws on his vest, and turned back to Howdy.

“You mind if I hold you, bud?”, he asked, lowering himself to the smaller caterpillar’s level. Howdy nodded, holding out his lower arms and flexing the fingers in a grabbing motion. Barnaby gripped his sides and hooked his hands underneath his upper arms. He lifted him up slowly and rested the caterpillar on his hip.

“Now there, how’s about we get you dressed in something nice, m’kay? Those slacks don’t feel so good now, I can find something better for today.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[howlingday]

Day 2 of "9 Days of Lancaster"

Reincarnation ◇ Dealer's Choice

"Jack~!" A piercing whistle is heard. "C'mon home, boy~!"

Jack ran through the woods to home, where his master shouted from the porch. Barbed seeds stuck to his golden fur and marred the shining hair as it swayed in hot noonday sun. Coming up to the porch as his opened the door, he ran inside to get a good drink from his bowl. His master then crouched with arms open for a hug. Jack began to lap up his master's face with jubilance.

"Gotcha!" The arms ensnared Jack, who tried to wriggle away. "Nuh-uh, you ain't goin' nowhere, boy. You're gettin' a bath an' a cut!"

Jack could only whimper as he was brought into the bathroom.

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

"What happened to you?!" Laughed Running Wind. The wolf couldn't believe her weird, yellow friend had somehow managed to get even weirder. He'd been a welcome joy to her since she was separated from her pack, but good golly, was he weird for a wolf. "Your fur is all short!"

"My master had it cut." Jack grimaced.

"You're so tiny~!"

"I know. It took me forever to find my scent again."

"Well, you got it back. Well, maybe not all of it."

Jack harrumphed. Running Wind got close and nuzzled against him. Jack was pushed around by the larger canine, but he started to rub himself against her, too. It'd been many moons since Jaune was taken from his mother and, in a weird way, he'd grown to think of his master as his family. Then he found Running Wind only a few moons ago, he started to think he was having a pack of his own.

"My own..."

"What?" Running Wind leaned away, looking at the smaller of the two. "What were you saying?"

"My own... pack."

The wind billowed through the trees as they stared at each other. Her golden eyes shimmer in the day while his brown eyes reflected her to being the only thing he saw. Jack bolted through the woods, with Running Wind easily catching up to him. The two would shift between who was chasing who in this running game of theirs. Memories flowed into them from a time long before, of eyes as pale as the moon and hide as tough as human machines.

"Well, now, what do we have here?" A voice said. "Jack!"

The golden retriever ran up to his master as he was called, and the wolf followed until the forest's edge. Running Wind stood by as she watched Jack lap at his master's face. Running Wind found the display disgusting, acting in such a way to the willingly give the strange creature dominance.

"You make a friend, Jack?" Running Wind then caught the attention of the creature. "She got other friends with her? Never seen a wolf out her before." He opened the den. "C'mon inside, Jack."

Jack didn't move.

"JACK!"

Jack looked back to Running Wind, whined, then to his master.

"NO! SHE'S MY PACK!" Running Wind cautiously moved closer, as Jack ran back to her.

"JACK!"

Jack then lapped at Running Wind's muzzle, showing who he belonged to. Running Wind then lapped his muzzle in return. Together, they became a pack.

"Guess you got a girlfriend, huh?" Jack's master chuckled. "Alright. I'll set out some dinner and water for your, uh, date."

Where does this story end? Well, Jack's master would find his own mate, and the two would have babes. Meanwhile, Jack and Running Wind also had pups of their own, and the family would run and play in the woods together, all the while memories flooded in now and then of a time long before them that made everything now feel just so right.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

lullaby for a rottweiler

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: G Word Count: 1116

Summary: There isn't exactly a Protector's Handbook with a chapter on what to do if you find yourself trapped in Cerberus's mouth, so Grover decides to tackle the problem the best way he knows how: by singing the consensus song.

What Grover never mentioned to the others—what he never felt he had to confess might be a better way to say it—is that there’s a reason he was glad they didn’t take a plane to California. Another reason. A reason that has nothing to do with the three of them spending the flight huddled anxiously in the bathroom until lightning bolts blast the wings off and Percy has to save them with airplane toilet water. Which Grover, who may have dreamed that exact scenario on the train to St. Louis, doesn’t doubt Percy could have done. For the record.

The other reason he was happy not to take a plane is turbulence. He’s super not into it. Rough travel can be fun when it’s his hooves over uneven ground. It’s not even the worst, in terms of messing with his inner ears, to be on a bus during a Fury attack. Or on a train with a rampaging Chimera. A car being rammed by a Minotaur! If Grover were to explain, if he had to tell Annabeth and Percy, he has quite the portfolio of turbulent travel situations to use as proof that he’s fine 99% of the time.

Boy, it really feels like the gods are laughing at him for managing to skip the plane only to end up bouncing along in one of Cerberus’s three mouths.

This is a heavy dog, and he takes big leaps. Grover is lofted up against the solid roof of the dog’s mouth, then dropped back down on its warm, rubbery tongue. And the whole place stinks. Hades can’t get in here with a toothbrush every once in a while? It smells like Cerberus has been using the Styx as his own personal water bowl. (The scent is misery with base notes of the abandonment of all hope.) Numbed by the stench, all Grover can do at first is subject himself to a mental montage of the greasy diner food and convenience store snacks he’s been living on. Not even the good stuff, like soda cans and tins of peanuts with the peanuts dumped out.

What breaks through his fixation on the contents of his churning stomach is one word: bumpy.

Because he’s not really big on self-pity, Grover scrambles to his knees between bounds and does his best to brace himself inside Cerberus’s mouth just enough to feel like he has a little bit of control. Hey, he feels less nauseous already!

“Oh golly!” he shout-sings, and immediately regrets it; Cerberus cocks his head at the noise and jerks to a stop. Grover cringes as he’s tossed against the dog’s teeth.

“Sorry,” he says, softer. “I guess six ears are more sensitive than two, huh?”

Cerberus’s answering whine vibrates Grover bone-deep before the dog starts moving again—a jaunty walking pace that’s ramping back up into a full-out run.

“Let’s try this again,” Grover says to himself, getting situated between tongue and palate.

He clears his throat.

“Oh, golly, the road’s gettin’ bumpy ’cause I got me…” He considers the dark, reeking cavern in which he crouches. “…a hound dog who just won’t slow down. Oh, dear. When the heads are gettin’ bouncy, the trick to settled tummies is…”

Is??? Grover thinks, because it’s a lot harder to come up with rhymes when you’re lurching down the bank of the River Styx in something’s mouth than it is when you’re packing a bag at camp based on what you think your co-questers are most likely to forget.

“…a trip to singin’ town,” he picks up.

Percy and Annabeth never let him get to verse two (where you say nice things about each other, building goodwill on the path to consensus). Cerberus hasn’t spat Grover out or tried to swallow him, so, honestly, after having his friends interrupt his debut performance, he’s taking it as encouragement to keep singing. He claps a hand against his opposite arm steadily until the words come to him. It’s weird but either he’s matched his claps to Cerberus’s footfalls or the dog’s running to his beat.

“Oh, Cerby, you’re good at bein’ grumpy, you make a great guard dog, your fur’s all black and brown.” The last one’s more of an observation than a compliment, and Grover winces, hoping Cerberus is more affected by his happy tone than the exact words.

“Good boy,” Grover sings, not meaning it. “You don’t need to run fast. (In fact, slower’s prob’ly better.) A trip to singin’ town.”

His eyes widen as, miraculously, Cerberus slows. Grover lets his clapping trail off. The dog stops, he sinks. Though it feels like this mouth-elevator has reached the ground floor, he’s not opening up to let Grover out. Suddenly, a snore rumbles through him. Seems like it’s probably now or never; Grover wriggles out between Cerberus’s huge teeth, getting a thorough slime bath as he pushes past the dog’s slobbery jowls.

He's relieved to see Percy, but he directs his first words at Cerberus: “You are a bad, bad dog!”

And he is a good, good singer, he thinks, even after he realizes Annabeth has literally scaled the side of Hades’ hound to give the dog neck scritchies. And maybe Percy helped too, fearlessly standing his ground in the path of the charging dog. Three heads are really better than one! Grover glances sideways at Cerberus. Three heads are better in some circumstances.

There’s not much time, so he listens to the others’ plan, using the shoes to lift Percy off the ground and fly him up the cliff. But the dog’s getting restless; Grover can hear growling noises that do not indicate peaceful slumber. After a harrowing minute of separation and a squeak of the red ball, Annabeth joins them at the top of the cliff. She launches the ball and Cerberus gives chase. The three of them stand there for a moment, breathing hard. But Grover just can’t keep it in.

“I GAVE YOU COMPLIMENTS!” he shouts after the dog. “YOU DON’T JUST ATTACK A GUY AND HIS FRIENDS RIGHT AFTER THE CONSENSUS SONG!”

Still outraged, he turns to his friends.

“What was that thing the Oracle said about betrayal again? Percy?”

But Percy isn’t listening, so Grover looks to Annabeth for support. The scrunch of her eyebrows and the slant of her mouth say she has no idea why he’s bringing up the consensus song right now (and why would she? Grover doesn’t mind that a ride in Cerberus’s mouth is one part of this quest he experienced alone). Regardless, Annabeth pats him on the shoulder.

“Yuck,” she says, withdrawing her hand and staring at her drool-slicked palm.

Grover sighs.

“Yeah. Tell me about it.”

[coy-lee]

hi!!

i dont think ive ever talked to you before but my name is slime and i wanna say--i l o v e ur art!! ur art style is so cute, and i havent associated with the fnaf fandom in a minute so seeing people that're still fans of it at least make me happy :D

anyways, ive been in hell of a lee mood these past few days--can i ask, would you say moon or sun are better at those evil teases?

i know that moon is more of an evil ler, but sunny is more of a playful ler based on sum of ur ler!sundrop art--and i love both

and whoever you think is better, pls can i ask for some teases from them

-anon

(I know this is super late but I also know that lee moods are always around the corner so)

Sun is absolutely the sickeningly sweet type while Moon is such an evil butthead. I'd say that would certainly make them the perfect tag team against anyone. Sugar and spice.

Sun's teases would consist of lots of silly names and rambling. He'd also giggle with you and crack cheesy jokes too. He's kinda all over the place as well, mentally and physically. He and Moon are big baby talkers due to working with kids so if you're weak to that, they'll both end your whole career XD

Ex:

"What a fun laugh! Can I hear more? Huh? HUH!?"

"Does this tickle? What about here? Oo! Here!?"

"IIIIIIIII'm gonna GETCHYA!"

"Giiiitchy gitchy gitchy gitchy gooo~!"

*pokes and soft pinches all over the place* "Ticky ticky ticky ticky ticky!"

"Golly you're crackin' up! Somethin' sure is ticklin' ya, huh!?"

"Eeheeheeheehee*snort*! Gosh, this game is fun, dontchya think?"

"What a giggle bean! *GASP* You're like one of those jumping beans! You're bouncin' all over!" :D

Moon is much more devious. He's still silly though. When his glitch side is more docile, he's more like Sun, but jumps around less and he's quieter. He's more prone to cooing in his normal programming. That definitely transfers into his more devilish, glitches side too. Aaaaand just like Sun, he's also a giggle but in a more 'evil' way. And watch out for his altered nursery rhymes 👀...

Ex:

"Ohoho, where do you think you're going, little star?"

"Eeheeheehee, tickle tickleeee~"

"What a ticklish little thing you are~"

"Awww, is this a baaaad spooot?~"

"Poor thing~. You're gonna giggle yourself to death if you're not carefuuuul~"

"Goochie goochie gooooo~ The tickle monster's got you~"

"🎶Tickle tickle, little star~ MY how cute your giggles are~🎶"

TLDR, they're good at teasing

Also I invite/challenge y'all to finish that last rhyme or make a new one because I absolutely love that hc

[scrambleclan]

STATUS UPDATE

So this blog's been empty for a while now, huh? Might as well explain why just to have something here instead of nothing and also for anyone who may be lurking around waiting for me to reveal something lmao.

> I started playing Clangen to satiate a hyperfixation I had gotten on other people's Clangen blogs. Did a first run and wasn't liking where it was going, then restarted and absolutely fell in love with the goobers there. So much so that I wanted to give them the most very specialest story I could possibly give them. And I... tend to set. Very high standards for myself when it comes to that so. I threw in a boatload of ideas and I'm now having trouble linking them together.

> Oh yeah, I'm doing multiple Clangens in one, because 1) I have ideas to interweave their lore, and 2) I really don't want to have to make multiple Clangen blogs and feel like I'm juggling several projects for this when I can instead stuff them all into one Large one and maybe that'll be easier on my energy as I tackle this. That said, we're looking at three different groups right now, maybe more if I decide I need another to explain things or provide a place for something important to connect to.

> The two other Clangens I had created were done out of personal challenges. The original ScrambleClan was a normal run, but I began a side group out of the leave-one-kit-alive-remove-everyone-else challenge, and then I made a third Clan out of a death curse challenge I made up on the spot lmao. All three of these will be pretty prominent on here; any others I end up making may just stay in the background unless I end up really attached to the characters there. I dunno I'll figure something out

> Planning to do a writing-heavy layout for this blog. Comics have never really suited me besides silly purposes, and I want this to HAVE silly energy but also be more serious and. Writing's just easier on me for that. I will definitely have lots of accompanying art on my posts though, both for visual aid and just because it's Cool As Fuck.

> Don't know for sure yet but this blog may rely heavily on user interaction. Like you guys may come into play for decision-making on lore bits. Mostly because the aforementioned lore is half-intentionally nonsensical. You'll see why eventually lmao

But yeah. I should be able to do the very first part of the story without too much hassle sooner rather than later, but then I may have to go on hiatus because. Good golly what the hell and fuck am I creating I can barely comprehend it

[greentrickster]

My main impressions and information gleaned from lurking around the Transformers fandom for the past week or two:

Megatron is an ex-gladiator

this tracks

He’s also quite possibly a bigger component of why the Decepticons never win than the Autobots or Starscream, huh, didn’t see that one coming

Soundwave is also an ex-gladiator, wtf

Also generally very quiet and stoic, Not Emotional

Unless his cassettes are involved, then he is Dad, apparently the most parental Decepticon

Starscream is incredibly popular (no I didn’t expect or know this, I had about a week of Bay-verse Transformers fandom exposure back in 2010, my knowledge of these characters is impressively small)

Also he’s apparently much more skilled than I thought he was

And he went to college on Cybertron? In most continuities it seems like?? He was going to be a scientist??? Apparently he’s actually pretty dang smart at science, he just sucks at military coups?!????

The heck, I thought he was just a bumbling henchman with delusions of grandeur??!??!?!? How the heck is he... this (waves hand at all of him) and also legitimately Megatron’s second in command?!??

...of course he’s the one I latch onto. Of course he is. My only consolation is that at least I’m not alone in this...

...he may be canonically immortal? It’s unclear.

Command trine command trine command trine

I found a tiny Skywarp in Target last week, I officially own my first transformer, I had to look up a youtube video on how to get him into jet mode, I love him

Shockwave

So, that backstory, huh?

WTF

(holds temples in hands and stares at the table)

(endless screaming)

Bumblebee is unanimously agreed to be a Good Boy

Already sort of guessed that

Nice to know I was right about something

Optomis Prime’s characterization is actually more varied than I expected

Full range from ideal leader/father figure to deeply flawed hero to technically not a himbo but on thin fucking ice about it

(puts on shelf with Superman in the ‘actually it’s perfectly okay to make these characters too good for this world, too pure, because it suits them and while they’re rare you do get people like that in the real world sometimes’)

Dadbot

Why would you put Red Alert in charge of security, it seems logical on the first glance, but putting him in a job where he’s supposed to actively think of all the things that could go wrong is probably super bad for his paranoia

Ratchet throws wrenches but is also sitting on the Best Boy shelf next to Bumblebee

Whoever writes the Transformers wiki has an excellent sense of humour and writing style, someone hire them to make school textbooks actually readable

Though, on that note, get someone to read over their shoulders because none of the entries list what anyone can transform into. Anywhere. I- how? I know the exact details can vary from continuity to continuity, but seriously, how??? The alt forms are half the appeal, how is this not a specific section in each character bio?!??!?

Jazz is awesome but also scary. Psychologically scary. He’s coming for your secrets.

There’s actually some pretty interesting lore involving how you get new transformers!

Pretty much everyone ignores this because this fandom is indescribably thirsty

I do not condemn

I am merely frustrated because anthropology minor and culture culture culture culture-!!!!

There are ten million continuities

Including a canon role-reversed universe where bad guys are good guys and vice versa

You can’t do this to me I have rights-!

The fact that Megatron turns into a handgun doesn’t come up nearly enough

I have been laughing about this since I learned about it from the Toys That Made Us and I refuse to stop

Steve the Eradicon does not deserve any of this, but golly it’s funny to see him go through it anyway sometimes

This fandom is so frickin’ confusing

I see why everyone likes the giant robot-vehicles

[mysteryhackin]

Time for Week 3 of @forduary: Insomnia! This poor guy cannot catch a break. Go to sleep, Ford, I swear you'll be happier in the long run!

Ford Pines doesn't sleep. But when Fiddleford forces him to overcome his insomnia, he has a bizarre dream starring someone he hasn't seen in years.

Fiddleford blinked as he tried to process his roommate’s announcement.  “You… you just wrote an entire dissertation on genetic anomalies in six months?”  He blinked again.  “In addition to finishing up your final year of undergrad?”

Ford grinned, the familiar buzz of too little sleep making his smile slightly too big.  “Well, it has been something I’ve been researching my entire life,” he said modestly.  “And it’s not like Backupsmore’s regular curricula took that much time to complete.”

Fiddleford shook his head.  “Yeah, of course.  But… golly, Stanford, when was the last time you got more’n a few hours of sleep?”

Ford waved a hand impatiently.  “I get enough.”

There was a snort from Fiddleford.  “Yeah, sure.  For some dadgummed foolish definition of ‘enough’.  Or is it the word ‘sleep’ that you’re applyin’ a new meanin’ to?”

A smile appeared on Ford’s face.  “I appreciate your concern.  But I’m fine.” 

But of course that would be the time Ford’s body decided to betray him, and he let out a giant yawn.

“Uh huh,” Fiddleford said skeptically, crossing his arms.  The he sighed.  “Look, Stanford, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.  You of all people should know how the human body functions.  Your brain can only do so much with the way you’ve been pushin’ yourself…”  He sat down on a chair and looked straight at Ford.  “You’re at least gonna take spring break off…” he stopped when he saw Ford’s excited smile.  “Oh Stanford…” he said sadly.

“Don’t be like that Fiddleford,” Stanford said cheerfully.  “What good is sleep anyway?

Fiddleford rolled his eyes.  “I know you were in those physiology classes same as me, and you know the answer to that question.” He took a deep breath.  “Stanford, have you ever thought about getting your insomnia checked out?”

“Insomnia?”  Ford scoffed.  “Fiddleford, please, this is being driven.  I can quit whenever I want!”  He started laughing, only vaguely aware the phrase wasn’t nearly as funny as he thought it was.  He turned back to his work, jotting down ideas on what to study next.

“Stanford?” Fiddleford interrupted a few minutes later. 

“Yes, Fiddleford?” Stanford asked, not taking his eyes away from a Sagan article.

“Did I ever show you the new robot I was workin’ on?  It’s supposed to help with insomnia.”

Ford put down his pen with a sigh and started to turn around.  “Fiddleford, I told you it’s not-”

Ford blinked as he moved his head up from his desk.  Did he fall asleep?  It seemed unlike him; he still had plenty of hours to go before he could turn in for the night.

“And so then he tells me that the deal’s off, and I should just leave town while I can.  Can you believe that?”  

A voice Ford hadn’t heard in years made him freeze, and he slowly turned around in his chair to see himself sitting across from him on his bed, waiting for his response.  No, not himself.  The young man sitting on his bed looked like him- that is, if he dressed like he had been caught in a windstorm in a polyester factory.  His open collared shirt revealed a glimmering chain, but Ford’s keen eye noted the green skin near the chain where the fake gold paint had rubbed off.  And to top it all off, it looked like something had died on his upper lip, and Ford only knew it was a moustache because he it matched perfectly with his shaggy brown hair.

“Stanley?” he asked incredulously.  “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing…” his twin brother focused on him with a frown.  “Wait- Ford?”  Many expressions passed Stan’s face, and Ford wasn’t sure he liked some of them.  “You look awful.”

Ford widened his eyes in shock, then indignation.  “I look awful?  What about you?  I don’t know how people can hear you speak, your clothes are so loud.  I mean,” he smirked.  “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

Stan burst out laughing.  “You’re just jealous of my silver tongue,”

“Well, better that than your fake gold chain,” Ford teased.  He felt so…light.  There was something nagging at him- something that wasn’t right about all this, but he brushed it off. 

“It’ll be a real gold chain soon, just you wait,” Stan answered with a big smile.  But Ford had known him long enough to recognize that his smile was also tinged with stress- as if Stan were barely holding on.  “I got a great tip on the next big thing- I just hafta pay back a few guys an I’ll be livin’ on easy street in no time!” He frowned as if he was trying to remember something.  “Of course, I had a meeting with them tonight…” he trailed off, and stood up from the bed.

Now that Ford had gotten over the shock of seeing his brother and the tackiness of his clothing, he noticed the dark circles under his brother’s eyes, along with a weariness that seemed far out of place for their young age. 

But before he could say anything, Stan had his arm around Ford’s shoulders and a conspiratorial grin.  “But what about you, Poindexter?  I bet you’re making all your professors swoon over your genius, huh?”

Ford laughed.  “Of course!” He said.  “I’m graduating a year early and already have been accepted into a fascinating Ph.D program!  I’m trying to get as many Ph.Ds as I can before my scholarship runs out!”

“Hang on, hang on,” Stan used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “You push yourself to the brink to finish school early, just so you can do even more school?”  He shook his head, but gave his brother a grin.  “You’re more of a knucklehead than I ever was!”  Then his face turned to concern.  “But really Sixer, you look like you haven’t gotten enough sleep in a while… what are they doin’ to you out there?”

Ford smiled wryly.  “Not enough,” he said.  “I have to work twice as hard here than I would have at…” he paused, then backed out of Stanley’s hold.  “West Coast Tech.”  His voice was hollow as he met his brother’s eyes.  “You’re the reason I’m not there!”

“What are you talking-” Stan stopped short, and his face grew hard.  “And it’s your fault I’m hangin’ by a thread out here- you got me kicked out before I could even save up enough to take care of myself!”  He crouched down as if getting ready for a fight, and Ford mirrored his position.

They stood glaring at each other, the air thick with anger daring the other to make a move.

Then Ford blinked as another fact hit him, and he stood straight up.  “But Stanley… what are you doing here?  In my dorm room?”

Stanley stood up as well, confused.  “Well, I, uh…” he rubbed the back of his head.  “I mean I haven’t been gettin’ a lotta sleep lately, and then… I did meet with Johhny’s guys… yeah, and they took me out to an alley and-” his face grew white.  “Knocked me out. Or… or worse. Ford,” he made eye contact with his brother.  “Are we dead?”

Ford swallowed.  “Don’t… don’t be ridiculous, Stanley,” he said.  “I haven’t been sleeping a lot either- who has time for that anyway, right?  And right before I saw you, Fiddleford said something about…” he squinted his eyes, trying to remember.  “A cure for insomnia, and then... I saw you!  So this is just some weird, bizarre dream!  I mean,” he laughed nervously.  “We hate each other, right?  Why would you be visiting me at school?”

Stan somewhat deflated.  “Yeah, you’re right.  I shoulda figured you were a dream,” he said.

Ford laughed.  “No, Stanley, you’re the dream.”

Stan looked at Ford suspiciously.  “Exactly what a dream would say.”

“Fair enough,” Ford responded with a chuckle.  “All right.  Let’s assume that this is some sort of shared dream.” His eyes lit up at the thought, and a quick glance at Stan showed the same expression. “Wouldn’t that be amazing!  A shared dream brought on by… lack of sleep and an unnatural way of getting to sleep!  Or maybe our connection as-” he stopped.

Their connection.  How Stan would always be excited for him, always support him, and how he would do the same-

Except when they needed each other the most.

No.  He wasn’t going to let some artificially induced dream make him feel guilty for something that wasn’t even his fault.  Stanley always was going to get kicked out, and he was fine- despite always getting into trouble, he always made it out.  He was probably living it up in Atlantic City or Las Vegas or somewhere more exotic, surrounded by money and girls, just like he always dreamed…

“All right,” he said briskly.  “Only one way to prove this is real.  Call me when you wake up.  Ma has my phone number, and if you call, we’ll know this is real,” he looked at his brother- a dream version of his brother, he corrected himself- but Stan still looked glum.

“What will you say if I call?” Stan asked.  He paused for a long while, then finally said, “Will you forgive me?”

Ford froze.  Would he forgive Stanley?  For ruining his life?  For putting his own selfish desires ahead of Ford’s goals? 

For being angry at Ford for breaking the promise they made their whole lives…?

He shook his head in annoyance, angered once again that this stupid dream was having such a ridiculous effect on him.  Well, he wasn’t going to play that game anymore.  “You’ll just have to call to find out,” he said to his dream-brother. 

Stan nodded.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Well,” he took a deep breath and once more plastered on that giant smile, all the weariness and worry disappearing from his face.  “It’s been great, but, uh…” he saw something behind Ford and smirked. “I’ll let you get back to your seven-eyed women, you weirdo.”  He turned around and disappeared.

“Seven-eyed…” Ford whirled around and seemed to catch something out of the corner of his eye-

And he startled awake.

“Mphw,” he said, then cleared his throat and tried again.  “What time is it?”

“It’s two pm on Saturday,” came Fiddleford’s cheerful voice.  “Glad you finally got some shuteye.”

Ford stretched and realized he had a headache.  “What did you do to me?” he asked.

“Hit you upside the head with a toaster,” Fiddleford answered casually.

“I thought you said you had a robot-”

“Sometimes the best bots have the simplest mechanics,” he noted with a satisfied grin.  “An’ I ain’t apologizin’- it was for your own good.”

“Please consult me next time before doing something you think is for my own good,” Ford said wryly, slowly standing up to fight the stiffness in his body.

“Can’t promise that!” was the response.  “I’ll bet you feel better now, though, doncha?”

As full consciousness finally returned to Ford, he pondered his odd dream.  Now that he could compare reality, he knew he hadn’t really been talking to his brother, but it had felt so real in the moment.  Why was that?  Did it have something to do with his insomnia?  How Fiddleford knocked him out?  And why would he dream about his broth… someone he hadn’t thought of for years?

“I do feel better, actually!” Ford said, an excited grin growing on his face.  “I know what to do my next thesis on-Lucid Dreaming!”  He grabbed his coat, ignoring his friend’s exasperated sigh, and ran out the door, excited to have something new to discover.

The only thing to interrupt his investigation during all of spring break was the phone ringing the next day, but since no one was on the other end Ford happily went back to his research, ignoring the small empty hole inside of him.

[pesterloglog]

Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider, Jade Harley, John Egbert, Jane Crocker, Jake English, Gamzee Makara, Roxy Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Rose Lalonde

Candy, page 20

KARKAT: WOW, SURE FEELS WEIRD TO JUST BE HANGING OUT WITH ALL THESE ASSHOLES WE WERE TOTALLY GOSSIPING ABOUT JUST TWENTY MINUTES AGO.

DAVE: i always knew our gossip sins would catch up with us eventually

JADE: SHH both of you!!!

JOHN: uh, hey. how are you guys doing?

DAVE: oh you know just enjoying a nice night out with our girlfriend when another teen version of our girlfriend plummeted out of the sky and bled all over our picnic pizza

JOHN: picnic pizza?

DAVE: yeah its like normal pizza except that you eat it while sitting on a tablecloth in the fucking grass

JOHN: oh cool. i’d never thought about doing that.

JOHN: i just bring sandwiches to my picnics like a dumbass.

JOHN: then again, the last time i went to a picnic, i ate...

JOHN: actually, never mind what i ate. but it sure wasn’t pizza.

DAVE: your loss bro its the only way to picnic out

KARKAT: STOP TALKING ABOUT PICNIC PIZZA YOU ASSHOLES.

KARKAT: THIS IS IN SUCH POOR TASTE.

DAVE: yeah hes right

DAVE: anyway like i was saying we were in picnic pizza heaven when fucking space tier jade from like

DAVE: i guess seven or eight years ago?

DAVE: basically face planted in a field next to our romantic tripledate

JOHN: damn.

KARKAT: YEAH, IT WAS PRETTY BAD TIMING.

DAVE: or extremely good timing

DAVE: i dont know yet

DAVE: the conversation was veering kinda

DAVE: you know

KARKAT: UGH

KARKAT: WE WERE IN THE “RELATIONSHIP REALTALK” ZONE.

KARKAT: ANYWAY, CAN WE STOP DWELLING ON THIS SHIT AND JUST GO UPSTAIRS?

JANE: Jake!

JANE: Would you take Tavros out of here? Please?

JAKE: Well golly jane i just thought it would be invigorating for the boy to interact with someone else his age for once.

JANE: Well, he doesn’t need to do it in here. Especially not when I’m trying to work!

GAMZEE: HeY nOw ElIxIrTiTs, YoU oUgHt To ChIlL.

GAMZEE: YeLlInG aT yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg MaTeSpRiT iS...

GAMZEE: bAd FoR tHe BlOoD pReSsUrE, bAbE.

JANE: Oh, I’m sorry. Is a clown speaking right now?

JANE: It’s the darndest thing. I could have sworn I just heard a nearby, offensively odiferous clown offering some advice when no one asked for his opinion.

ROXY: woah janey u doin ok

JANE: I... I don’t know.

JANE: I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately, trying to run my business, raise a child, and manage the political situation indirectly through various corporate machinations...

JANE: Jake! Why are the children still in here?!

JANE: Take them to the playroom. Now!

JAKE: Aye aye maam!

JANE: I don’t know why, but I’m having an extremely difficult time reviving her.

JANE: Where did she even come from?

JADE: we have no idea

JADE: its like the sky just opened up!

KANAYA: Well Obviously She Is From Another Timeline

KANAYA: Darling Can You Perhaps Shed Some Light On This

ROSE: I...

ROSE: I haven’t the faintest clue.

ROSE: It could be anything.

JANE: Well, something is blocking my Life powers.

JANE: It’s as if she has... a sort of poison in her. Not a literal poison, mind you.

JANE: If it were as simple a matter as there being something in her bloodstream, I could revive her lickety-split.

JANE: It’s deeper than that.

JANE: It’s like... a poison eating away at the very core of her being.

JANE: It’s attacking her on... perhaps this sounds crazy, but...

JANE: A metaphysical level??

JADE: huh?

JANE: What’s so odd is that not only can I not bring her back to life, she also, somehow, doesn’t feel entirely dead.

JADE: oh

JADE: i wonder if that has something to do with me?

JADE: like, being here???

JANE: How so?

JADE: well... all of our selves across infinite timelines are actually just one self right?

JADE: like... one ultimate self distributed across multiple bodies

JADE: so in multiple places and states at once

JADE: every jade that exists is like a light being shined through a thousand cracks in the timeline

JADE: but if were outside the place where that light is being split from...

JADE: maybe only one of us can exist

JADE: and thats why shes stuck in this horrible state :(

ROXY: i thiiiink that janey was just bein melodramatic jade

ROXY: its not ur fault

JADE: what should we do with her?

ROXY: well

ROXY: hate to be the one who says what were all thinkin but...

ROXY: sounds like its time for another funeral lmao

JOHN: lmao??

JOHN: roxy, jade is dead, and you’re probably going to give birth within the week!

ROXY: yeah so we gotta start planning this one right now

JADE: ???

ROXY: cmon guys

ROXY: how longs it been since we were all together like this?

KARKAT: I’M SORRY, WAS THAT A RHETORICAL FUCKING QUESTION OR WERE YOU GOING SOMEWHERE WITH IT?

ROXY: it was not rhetorical at all

ROXY: the last time we were all together was

ROXY: dirks funeral!

JANE: Roxy, at the time, we were mourning the death of a dear friend...

ROXY: i know right

ROXY: nothin like the death of someone we love to bring us all together again

ROXY: weve all been so busy with being pregnant and birthin a thousand trolls and the political situation that regulates the troll birthin...

ROXY: we dont even have time to catch up anymore :(

JANE: Um. Roxy...

KANAYA: Perhaps We Should Not Talk About That Particular Subject

KANAYA: If Your Concern Here Is That We All Continue To Be In The Same Room Its Probably Best We Avoid Bringing Attention To The Reasons That It So Rarely Happens

ROXY: aw cmon politics should never get between friends

KARKAT: UH, EASY FOR YOU TO FUCKING SAY.

JADE: karkat... lets not ok?

JADE: i mean, not now?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT WHAT?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT THE GIANT FUCKING TRUMPET BEAST IN THE ROOM?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW KANAYA, TEREZI AND I WORKED JUST AS HARD TO CREATE THIS WORLD AS ANY OF YOU, BUT OUR PEOPLE DON’T EVEN GET A SAY IN HOW THEY GOVERN THEMSELVES?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW THE CRIMES OF ALTERNIA ARE HELD UP TO UNFAIR SCRUTINY ANY TIME A TROLL WANTS TO FUCKING DO OR SAY SOMETHING ON THE NEWS, BUT WE’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GENERALIZE HUMANS BASED ON THE WORST THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN YOUR HISTORY?

KARKAT: LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT HOW ALTERNIA WAS BASICALLY THE SACRIFICIAL FUCKING MILKBEAST UPON THE ALTAR THAT THIS UNIVERSE WAS BUILT ON, BUT YOU ALL ACT LIKE WE’RE SO LUCKY YOU DEIGNED TO ALLOW US TO EXIST ALONGSIDE YOU INSTEAD OF JUST LETTING US FUCKING DIE OUT THE WAY IT WAS INTENDED?

ROXY: um excuse you karkat but no one acts like that

KARKAT: OH? NO ONE???

KARKAT: I LISTEN TO THE FUCKING NEWS, YOU KNOW. I’VE HEARD ALL THE ARGUMENTS, THE ONES BASED ON THE POLICY ADVICE YOUR CORPORATE THINK TANK FEEDS THE PRESIDENT.

KARKAT: DO YOU THINK THAT IT’S BEING BROADCAST AT A FREQUENCY ONLY HUMANS CAN HEAR OR SOMETHING? DO YOU THINK WE’RE THAT STUPID?

KARKAT: EVEN I CAN TELL THAT THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE TROLL KINGDOM IS CHANGING, AND I HAVE NEVER ONCE WILLINGLY HAD A CONVERSATION WITH MY NEIGHBORS. EVERYONE’S STARTING TO GET SCARED.

KARKAT: MORE THAN THAT, THEY’RE STARTING TO GET PISSED.

JANE: Is this meant to be a threat of future violence, Mr. Vantas?

JANE: I’m not sure menacing me is making the most compelling case for your political claims.

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT.

KARKAT: ARE YOU ALL FUCKING HEARING THIS?

JANE: Yes, Karkat, we are all most definitely hearing this. It’s somewhat unavoidable with you shouting it all at the top of your lungs.

KARKAT: SORRY, I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE KIND OF DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO HEAR ME, WHAT WITH YOUR HEAD SHOVED ALL THE WAY UP YOUR *BIG*, **FAT**, ***ASS***!!!

ROXY: woah damn

GAMZEE: hEy BrOtHeR cHiLl OuT

KARKAT: FUCK OFF GAMZEE.

GAMZEE: wOaH wOaH, kArKaT mY DUDE wHy ArE yOu AlL lAsHiNg OuT aNd ShIt?

GAMZEE: i ThOuGhT wE wErE mOtHeRfUcKiNg GoOd.

KARKAT: NO, WE ARE NOT “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD.”

KARKAT: WE WILL NEVER BE “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD.”

GAMZEE: yO c’MoN mAn I mOtHeRfUcKiNg ApOlOgIzEd AbOuT gOiNg AlL oVeRbOaRd WiTh ThE mAlIcE aNd MuRdEr AnD sHiT.

GAMZEE: a MoThErFuCkEr ReDeEmEd HiS mOtHeRfUcKiN sElF!

GAMZEE: Y’aLl CaN’t GeT sAlTy WiTh YoUr HoMiE nO mOrE. tHaT bE aLl ThE rUlE oF rEdEmPtIoN, mY bRoThErLy BiTcH.

KARKAT: I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY THE “RULES” ARE, DUDE.

KARKAT: I DON’T CARE IF YOU PROSTRATE YOURSELF AT MY FEET AND LICK THE FUCKING DIRT OUT FROM UNDER MY TOENAILS.

KARKAT: DON’T FUCKING TRY TO DO THAT BY THE WAY. I’M OBVIOUSLY BEING FACETIOUS. IF YOU ACTUALLY TRIED TO TOUCH MY FEET WITH YOUR DISGUSTING, ROTTEN SMELLING TONGUE I WOULD PROBABLY BE FORCED TO REACH DOWN MY THROAT AND PULL OUT MY OWN PUMP BISCUIT.

KARKAT: THAT WAS ALSO ME BEING FACETIOUS. MY POINT IS, DON’T TOUCH ME, DON’T SMILE AT ME, DON’T WINK AT ME, DON’T HONK AT ME, DON’T DO *ANYTHING* IN MY DIRECTION, GOT THAT?!

KARKAT: WE ARE *****NOTHING***** TO EACH OTHER, DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME, “““““BROTHER”””””?????

GAMZEE: kArKaT... yO tHeRe’S gOtTa Be SoMeThInG i CaN dO.

KARKAT: NO.

KARKAT: NEVER IN THE WILDEST DREAMS OF YOUR SOPOR SOAKED PEABRAIN WILL WE BE “MOTHERFUCKING GOOD,” GAMZEE.

KARKAT: BECAUSE YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH THE GODDAMN ENEMY.

KARKAT: BECAUSE I STILL HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT WHAT YOU DID.

KARKAT: AND BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK YOU EVEN DID WRONG IN THE FIRST PLACE!

ROXY: woah ok karkat i get ur all fired up about politics and stuff but lay off gamz ok

JANE: Yes, can’t you see that he’s sincerely trying to have a redemption arc?

ROXY: i get if u dont wanna forgive him that totes your business

ROXY: but you gotta at least admit that hes makin an effort here

GAMZEE: hOnK.

KARKAT: THAT’S!!!

KARKAT: IT!!!!!!

KARKAT: FUCK YOU, AND YOU, AND ESPECIALLY YOU.

KARKAT: IN FACT, FUCK ALL OF YOU. I’M LEAVING!

DAVE: dude

KARKAT: WHAT PART OF “ALL OF YOU” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, STRIDER?

KARKAT: ARE YOU AS DEAF AS YOU ARE STUPID?

KARKAT: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY.

JADE: dave what the FUCK did you say to him downstairs?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: nothing?

DAVE: tbh i think hes been holding all that in for a while

JAKE: By jove chaps what was all that commotion?

JANE: It was nothing, Jake. Go back to the playroom.

ROXY: no wait

ROXY: jake were havin another funeral

ROXY: we dont got much time so im appointing you officially third in charge of the planning committee

ROXY: after me and callie obvs

JOHN: oh my god, roxy, are you really serious about this funeral idea?

ROXY: yeah why wouldnt i be?

JOHN: christ.

JOHN: i’m all for like, honoring the memory of this departed version of teen jade we barely know, but...

JOHN: you’re SO pregnant!

ROXY: yea im pregnant as shit but i dont see anybody else steppin up to the plate

ROSE: Roxy, I understand the sentiment, but are you really sure it’s...

ROSE: Appropriate?

ROXY: yup

ROXY: its even more appropriate now

ROXY: after all the bullshit thats happened we need a good bash for the sake of team unity

KANAYA: I Admit To Still Being Ignorant Regarding Many Aspects Of Human Culture

KANAYA: But A Funeral Is Not What I Would Call

KANAYA: “A Bash”

ROXY: lmao thats cuz youve got no imagination kanaya

ROXY: well make sure its lit AF right jake

JAKE: Golly i do love me a good soiree no matter the circumstance.

JAKE: Id be chuffed to the nines to be your third man on this one rox.

ROXY: then its official

ROXY: this time next week well corpse party like its the end of the world!

ROXY: er

ROXY: again!!

JOHN: ...

ROSE: ...

DAVE: ...

KANAYA: ...

JANE: How is it that no matter how hard I try to keep the foolishness in my life confined exclusively to my romantic partners...

JANE: I invariably find myself surrounded by clowns regardless?

GAMZEE: hOnK.

[isfjmel-phleg]

I've done one of these for the YJ kids already, so how about first lines: Robins edition?

Dick: Detective Comics #38

"Mother! Father! T-they'll be killed!"

Dick's first appearance in a very early (1940!) comic opens by narrating his backstory, and the first words we hear from him are his response to the fall that will result in his parents' deaths. While this line doesn't tell us much about who Dick is as an individual, it does define him an orphan due to tragedy and therefore a parallel to Bruce.

Jason: Detective Comics #525

"Golly! There's somebody up at the top of the tent--it's Robin!"

Yes, this is actually Jason. Pre-Crisis Jason, with the circus background and red hair, which would later have to dyed black. This version of the character was designed to be basically Dick 2.0, so it's only fitting that his first words should be about Robin, connecting him to his predecessor and foreshadowing the role he will take on. Note that these words are thought, not spoken aloud. His first spoken words are in a similar vein:

"Hey, are you really Robin?"

Post-Crisis Jason, the version that's become the more lasting take on the character, would appear in Batman #408.

"Whoops."

A very different take! This Jason's first line is just a single word, but it expresses who he is succinctly. He has a tremendous amount of nerve to steal the Batmobile's tires, but at the same time he's a scared little boy who has just realized that he's made a huge mistake.

Tim: Batman #436 (already addressed in this post but I'm repeating it for completion's sake)

"Won...wonner...wonnerful."

This is a flashback to a very young Tim. The first time we hear from him in the story's present is in #440.

"He [Batman] was hurt, but that didn't stop him. Nothing stops him. So much for Bruce Wayne. Now I can start on Dick Grayson."

Both of these first lines have a commonality: Tim is commenting with admiration about somebody else. His feelings and goals are not relevant; he is here to observe and, from a distance, support. This places him in a particular role from the start. His words in #440 aren't even spoken aloud, which establishes his contemplative nature. His very first words not only foreshadow his role as the Boy Wonder but also tie him to Dick, which was important for the creators of his character, who wanted the new Robin to maintain a connection to the original Robin to make him more acceptable to the audience (post-Crisis Jason had developed a personality very different from Dick's, which made him unpopular with much of the audience). And finally we learn that he, this mysterious unseen figure, somehow knows Batman's and Nightwing's secret identities, which is worrisome!

Stephanie: Detective Comics #647

"Huh? Mom! You scared me! I thought you were in bed. ... Yeah. It's like a report. For math."

Stephanie's first appearance is silent, observing her father's doings at home on TV or spying on him as Spoiler. Her first lines are to her mother, who catches her in the process of putting together the answer to her father's "clues" before sending them to the police in order to spoil his plans. Our first impression of Stephanie is that she has to hide so much from her parents, neither of whom are in a position to do her much good. Her intentions are good, but she's having to be underhanded, even outright lying. Like other Robins before her, she's learned to be self-sufficient when the adults in her life haven't been there for her.

Damian: Batman #655

"Look! The satellite's found his private jet."

Damian is the only one of the Robins whose very first appearance is kept shadowy (Tim's face was initially hidden when he debuted in his story's present, but he had already appeared fully visible as a small child). Although Damian's first remark to his father--"Father. I imagined you taller."--is characteristic of his obnoxiousness and clearly intended to be our main impression of him, it's interesting that he is actually introduced with a more childlike remark. We can see that he's observant and likes to display his knowledge, but there's also a tone of a little boy who is excited to meet his father for the first time. Here, he's not a killer but a child eager for connection, which says a lot about who he is beneath the effects of his upbringing.

(Also note that the use of contrast between his actual first line and a somewhat later but more iconic introductory line is similar to how Kon and Thad are introduced, as I detail in the other post.)