#it should be thirteen bec of

[anxietyfrappuccino]

what do mean christmas is meant to be celebrated for twelve days? what do you mean i've only been celebrating it for two days when i could have been celebrating it for twelve? what do you mean the twelve days of christmas begins on christmas and is not just a song about the twelve days leading up to christmas? what the duck

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Fingers Sifting Black Earth 1 - That Awkward Moment When

Happy Yuletide, motherfuckers! Next story's up.

On AO3.

It is important for me to be down on my knees, my fingers sifting the black earth, making those things grow which will grow. —Ann Struthers, Planting the Sand Cherry

So you’re in hell. The air scorches the back of your throat and your pits are beyond dank. Your new (relatively) tunic clings to your back beneath your new (also relatively) drow armor, and your tit region is a full blown swamp.

Even Astarion, famously undead, shines with sweat.

“Everyone present and accounted for?” Gale says. Poor man is more soaked-through than you. Turns out wizard robes, without cooling enchantments which he’s short of at the moment, ain’t all that good for running around a magical forge embedded in a mother fucking lava lake.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Shadowheart says. She at least got a sweet, new set of armor outta that forge.

Lae’zel sways, and then glares when you notice. You don’t say nothing.

Only Karlach stays chipper. She’s waiting over with Wyll next to the big ass lever. On Gale’s nod, they manage to kick and shove the creaky bitch down. The metal platform y’all stand on groans. Jolts. You expect, for a pants-shitting moment, for the fucker to crack in half and drop y’all onto that lake. You read somewhere that people don’t actually sink into lave, like that volcano movie. Cause it’s melted rock with the same density. It’s a lot more like dropping a square of cold butter onto a hot-ass, stainless steel pan. Lots of sizzling and skittering around as the water in the body boils off. Course, you’re dead before you hit, since the superheated air sears shut the lungs—

Everybody’s staring at you. Wyll grimaces.

Oops. You’re all up in the brainworm group chat with that one.

“Sorry,” you say.

“That’s pretty accurate, actually,” Karlach says.

To which Wyll turns his horrified look to her. She just shrugs.

The platform shudders. Wheezes. Screams a little. And then starts to rise. All in one piece.

You sigh and slump. Let your head fall back to try to keep breathing the oven-hot air. You grew up in Oklahoma-sticky, been caught out in one-hundred-thirteen degrees with ninety percent humidity and northerners are always surprised when you tell that that yes, you can actually sweat on the backs of your hands.

Ain’t none of that compares to this hellscape. Literally.

Eventually, the first drafts of cooler air brush your cheeks. You’re beyond things like modesty right now, so you loosen the sides of your armor—thank you Gale for the perfect-fit enchantment—enough you can flap your tunic and try to relieve some of the tiddy sweat.

Catch Astarion watching you with one eyebrow quirked.

You try not to think about that just now.

It’s been a helluva few days. Fresh off escaping a drow hunting party, y’all ran into a group of duergar slavers working a bunch of gnomes half to death to free some Absolute cultist piece of shit. They’re all dead, now. Between them gnomes, the cave buffalo, and all y’all, you’re pretty sure every slaver got ganked.

Astarion…

He really does not fucking care about other people. Not even people in a position a lot like his own. You met others like that. You were others like that for a while. But when he made that “joke” (cause it ain’t never actually a joke) about “motivating the staff” (and by that he meant “torturing defenseless people”) you cold-shouldered him. Hard.

He’s been slinking around your peripherals ever since.

You wipe the sweat from your face as best you can. Which mostly means smearing it around.

It ain’t right to let him carry on like that and treat it like it’s fine. It ain’t. And you’re pretty sure he knows that—you try hard not to think of him as a dog tiptoeing around after getting yelled at. Especially since this dog seems way more used to kicks than words. But you ain’t sure what you should do about it. If you should. Because…you care about the stupid shit. And then you think you shouldn’t because the man has screaming red flags. But…but so did you. When Sasha first tried to talk to you, you went full, flaming Testimony on her.

But she didn’t give up. She saw something in you. The part you would later find in the root cellar, covered in sticky pear juice, staring down at a piece of shattered glass. All the talk you ever heard—the books, the podcasts, anything you could listen to before it got too much and your chest got too tight to breathe and you was right back there again—says that bringing people outta shit like that is work. It takes time. Patience.

If it can be done. If the person ain’t too far gone.

If your sorry ass can possibly navigate the fucking minefield you’re starting to realize that man is.

Fuck.

At least y’all found explosives. Lots of them. Including a giant fucking barrel of something called “rune powder” that y’all sorta stole that made all them other gnomes real fucking nervous about. You’re gonna find whatever controls the cult and the fucking brainworms, and you’re gonna paint “fuck you” on the side of that barrel before you have Karlach—or Lae’zel, actually—chuck it right at their face. There’s an easy answer for one of your problems (ninety-nine problems and that man is one).

The rest of the group is run fucking ragged right now. Between all the murder and the coups y’all have initiated, between the fight with that murderfuck Absolutist and the giant fuck off robot at the forge, y’all can probably sleep for a collective week.

Astarion is still watching you.

Shadowheart raises an eyebrow for you to catch. Turns out stepping off a boat with your neck fucking purpled from hickeys tends to tip off everybody that you was fooling around with that goblin of a vampire man. Elf. Shithead.

You look away.

You just don’t know. He kissed you and you liked it. You liked the whole fingerbanging, too. Like, a lot. Then he ain’t letting you talk to him about it, then suggested you two do it again, then goes off to be a fuckhead racist and then y’all almost got squashed by the iron giant.

And now he’s sidling up to you just as you’re starting to savor the suggestion of cooler air on your skin.

“Hello, darling,” he says.

Okay, fine, he’s stupid handsome. You actually see it now, despite the granny hair (fine, it adds to his “bisexually hot” vibes). Now he’s all sweaty, and that’s gross, but the gross part of your brain fucking perks up anyway.

“Hi, Astarion,” you say.

The elevator rattles and clanks around you. Y’all are lifting up through a shaft cut so smooth, you’d think it had to be made with either water, or modern Earth drilling equipment.

Probably fucking magic. Fucking Middle Narnia.

The magma glow has receded, and now the only light comes from Karlach’s thrumming hellfire heart engine and the tiny flames dancing through her hair and on the tips of her nails. And from Shadowheart’s glowing face-smashing mace that Astarion stole, which then obliterated a whole ass Githyanki creche.

It’s enough to give the illusion of privacy.

“You know, I can’t help but feel we’ve grown somewhat…distant, the last few days,” Astarion says.

“We been kinda busy,” you say.

He hums. Shifts beside you. Then he leans in, his breath cool as it tickles the hairs on your neck. “We never did find an answer to my question, either.”

You know damn well what he’s talking about. Sidling up next to you in that dead temple. Leaning in as he’s doing now, his scent washing over you, voice low and silky in your ear when he asked “your tent or mine.”

“Huh,” you say. Like a smart person.

You got no idea what you’re doing. No idea what you should be doing. You are stumbling around in an unfamiliar, pitch-black room, half drunk, tits swinging, banging into every goddamn piece of furniture in there.

“So,” Astarion says. Leans so close he could kiss your cheek if he moved another inch.

Seems he wants that answer.

What are y’all? What is this? A one-time fling after surviving some bullshit? Stress relief? A new hobby?

You ain’t never done this before. Certainly not with someone like him. Don’t know the rules. You…you’re scared. If you ask him, if you question this or press him for any of the thoughts in your head, he’ll spook.

And deep down (maybe not so deep), you’re a greedy little shit yourself. A whole childhood denied things like cellphones and internet, like steady meals and safety and any kind of privacy and not getting publicly switched in your underwear. And then coming out of that and the group homes, the food stamps, the public health insurance and barely scraping by until so, so recently.

When you got kidnapped by a squidward alien and dropped without so much as a stitch of clothing (but with a fucking dildo, jesus) into another dimension.

You want something nice. Just for once. Just without having to think about the shoulds or should-nots. The morals and the risk and being able to fucking afford it.

This is a terrible fucking idea. Maybe you really are a weak piece of shit. Because you turn to look at him. In the dim glow of y’all’s companions, his eyes reflect a predator’s shine: two copper pennies glowing in the gloom.

You gotta figure all this shit out. Sort the mess in your head. Maybe after y’all find this cult shit and throw a bomb at it and the brainworms is gone.

Astarion is a bitch and an asshole. He makes you laugh. He stabbed a man like eight times for you, and goddamnit, kissing him feels like it paints your skin in electricity.

God ain’t real and neither is sin. And if sin ain’t real, then there’s no reason to feel shame or guilt about engaging in consensual tomfoolery.

Right?

You clear your throat. “We can, uh. Mine. I guess.”

Jesus.

His fangs is shockingly white when he grins. He brushes the tip of his nose against your cheek. “Excellent. I can’t wait.”

“Aww,” Karlach coos.

Right as Shadowheart says, “Do try to remember we can all hear you.”

You jerk away so fast you almost trip right off the edge of the magic fucking elevator. Which they all saw, and which makes you consider hurling yourself off on purpose just so you don’t have to deal with any of this.

Until a faint sound bounces down the shaft at y’all.

Shadowheart lifts her face. Squints. “Is that a dog?”

[thewertsearch]

TG: my thing is time yours is space TG: pretty different things

Not exactly. There are many physicists, I'm sure, who would argue that Space and Time should be one single Aspect - and I'm expecting Jade's powers to be in some way complementary to Dave's.

Come to think of it, there are several pairs of Aspects which seem complementary. Light and Void clearly evoke light and darkness, and Mind and Heart also seem dichotomous, potentially representing logic and emotion. Even Life and Doom have a life/death thing going on.

What's the opposite of Breath, then? It sort of pairs with Blood, since they're both bodily functions, but I can't comment on their symbolic relationship, since Blood is still a mystery to me. Breath too, come to think of it - most of my John analysis has been about his Class.

TG: you GET things about space i dont TG: or you will

The most obvious entry-level Space ability would be teleportation - but the Medium already is lousy with Appearifiers, Transportalizers, and portal-wielding First Guardians. It's certainly possible that Bec could teach her to teleport, but I don't know if it makes narrative sense for Jade's new power to be old news.

Perhaps, then, Jade will develop the second most obvious Space power - telekinesis.

GG: i wish i had winter clothes [...] GG: im so horribly unprepared for this…. i have never even seen snow before, can you believe that!!! [...] TG: well ive never seen it either now that i think about it

I was three years old when I first saw snow, and I don't think I'll ever forget the experience.

Guys, I know you're on the clock - or, at least, Jade is - but you deserve to take a moment here, and breath it all in. You only get one chance to see it for the first time.

GG: why dont we play in the snow later

Jade's first decision as a full-fledged Player is the best she'll ever make.

TG: im not gonna play in the snow

Translation: the next page will be a jump-cut to Dave in the snow.

TG: maybe you missed those credentials i flashed which clearly stated me being too cool for that [...] GG: i know youre joking around, you are not too cool at all, you dont even think that TG: ok

See! Even Jade knows he's full of shit.

I don't think Dave even wants to pretend he's too cool for this. His brain's on ironic autopilot at this point - but after today, he'll have IRL friends to play with, and those walls will start come down.

Yes, you heard me, Dave. Play. You're not 'hanging out' with your friends, you're not 'chilling' with them - you're playing. Let yourself be thirteen.

[sl-newsie]

Chapter Twenty Eight: Christmas: Part 4 (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

It ain’t any warmer today, and tha wind ain’t any calmer. We all move togedda, try’n to shield tha cold.  I almost slip at least three times, and Danny almost five! After we grt off tha bridge, tha ‘Hattan buildings provide some shield’n from tha wind. As soon as I see tha lodg’n house, I see Crutchy wait’n by tha window. He sees us, smiles, and goes off to tell Jack. In no time at all, my big brodda’s bound’n toward me with tha fellas close behind him.

“Becca! Ya made it! Merry Christmas, sis!”

“Merry Christmas, Jack! Now- Now will you’s let me breathe so I can actually hug ya back?”

“Hiya, Becs!” Race squeezes me.

“Hi!” I wheeze. “Good to see you too, Race!”

“Merry Christmas!” Mush gives me an even tights hug, followed by Crutchy who goes easy on me.

“It weren’t tha same without you here!”

“Well, I’s is here now. So what’re we do’n taday?”

“Stay’n warm!” Snipeshooter grumples, shiver’n. “Let’s go back in before I turn to ice!”

“Actually, that ain’t a bad idea!” Jack laughs.

“When’s David come’n?”

“Noon.”

Inside, tha lodg’n house gives off a cozy glow and provides a welcome’n warmth. But while tha fellas go upstairs, I secretly sneak over and take out tha gifts I’s gotten and pile them near tha door- seem’n as if a stranger left ‘em there. I take tha candy canes and oranges with me, though.

I then head up and join in on a card game, and pass out tha striped treats and bright-colored fruit.

“Aw, Becca. You’s didn’t have to-” Boots starts.

“Yeah, I did, Boots. You’s tha best family I’s could ever wish for, and we needs someth’n sweet. Please, enjoy!”

All tha kids luv ‘em, and I can tell tha olda fellas do too. Spot catches my eye and gives me a wink.

Race breaks it up. “Alright, alright! Enough mushy stuff for today! Who’s bet’n?”

We all groan.

“Race, you’s could’nt find a reason not to bet in a Catholic church!” Blink complains.

“Yeah! It’s Christmas! We don’t need to gamble!” Skittery agrees.

“We should make that a rule every Christmas,” Jack muddas at me.

“Fiiinnneee. We won’t gamble, but I’s still gonna be use’n a poker face.”

“And you’ll do just fine at it,” I say encourag’nly.

“Let’s play Hearts!” Crutchy suggests.

“Me thinks Becca and Spot’ve already done that!” Mush teases.

“Can it, Romeo. Are ya play’n or not?” Spot defends me.

“Ok, I’ll shut up! Deal me in!”

Boots deals tha cards, and we all sit in a circle around tha bunks, with me next ta Spot and Jack.

“Four-o clubs goes foist.”

Rats. I got tha Queen, and no Spades to back her up. But I don’t got many Diamonds…

I look around, and see I ain't tha only one who don’t like their hand. I godda keep a blank face…

Afta a few rounds of Clubs and Diamonds, I’s got tha next round to throw tha Queen, and I think tha fellas’re get’n noivous. Jack is mess’n with his bandanna, Race keeps tap’n his foot, and Spot keeps play’n with his hair- all signs of future victory.

Just to mess with Spot, I slowly take turns touch’n his leg with my foot, get’n an annoyed glare from his calculate’n eyes.

Race leads tha next round- Clubs again!

Afta Spot throws a three, I look over at Jack with mock’n eyes.

“Sorry, Jack.” I whip out tha Queen, and everybody groans.

“Cowboy takes thirteen!” Race cheers.

“Becca! I’s thought you’d go easy on me!” Jack dramatically places a hand over his heart.

“And lose to Race? I don’t think so!”

“Do that again and I’ll throw ya in a snowbank!” Jack threatens, pick’n me up like hackysack and dangl’n me over his shoulda.

I look upside-down at Spot. “You ain’t gonna help me?”

I see him laugh’n hysterically. “Not when this is so funny!”

“Who’s getting thrown in a snowbank?” I hear behind me.

Jack turns to tha voice, and I’m faced with all tha smile’n newsies.

“Who is it? Who is it? Jack, I can’t see-!”

“Merry Christmas, David!”

“Um... we don’t...” David trails off.

“We’re Jewish,” Les says with a smile.

Jack grins back. “I know, Les. Sarah told me all ‘bout it! But it’s nice-a you’s to join us anyway! By the way, how’s Sarah-?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that, Jack!” I grin.

“She’s good. Her and my folks are staying home. Les really wanted to see Angel-”

“Mittens!” Les cheers as Angel herself runs over from tha kids group and gives him a big hug.

“She been wait’n for you, Les.” Blink says.

“Where’s Becca?” David asks, look’n around.

Jack smirks, turns around and shows David- me, hung helpless over his back and my fave turn’n red.

“Hi, David! Sorry to hang around like this, but Jack started it!”

“We’s was just start’n to play cards!” Jack says ta David. “Come on, join us!”

David frowns. “Is there…?”

“Ha! No, David. There ain’t no bet’n!” I laugh.

“Ok, then I’ll play.”

“Swell! Deal ‘em in, Boots.” Race says impatiently.

“When do you want us to go get the gifts?” David asks openly. 

All tha guys stare at him.

“You know- the gifts placed by the door?”

“What?!”

All of ‘em pile out tha door, with Jack still hold’n me upside-down. This leads to me hit’n my head against the wall.

“Ow! Hey- Jack! Put me-!”

“Wow!” All tha kids marvel. I’s can’t see their faces, but their gasps are payment enough!

Just now, Jack loses his grip and I plop onto the floor.

“Ow!”

“Rebecca, did you…?” Jack looks at me dumbfounded.

I can’t hide my smile. “Maybe…”

“Aw, Becca!” Crutchy limps over and squeezes me in a hug. “Ya really shouldn't have!”

“Yeah. You’s-” Mush stops and chokes down a sob, clearly with tears of joy.

My smile widens. “Oh, Mush!”

I wrap my arm around his shoulder as he wipes his face off.

“It’s noth’n guys, really it ain’t. Now will ya open your gifts before ya cry yourselves a river?”

All tha kids quickly oblige, and tear through the newspaper.

“Wow! These is a bunch-a letter blocks! Thanks Becca!”

“Whoa!”

“Thanks Beccy!”

All the fellas then open up the candy canes and bright-colored oranges.

“Aw, Becs!”

“Thanks Becca!”

Race walks over, hold’n his orange as if it were made-a gold, and looks at me.

“Thanks. I’s ain’t gett’n soft or noth’n, but… thanks.”

I give him a tight hug. “Your welcome, Race.”

“Did Spot get you’s anyth’n?”

I grin and lift up tha key on the chain. “Yeah, he did.”

Race squints at it. “I take it it’s symbolic?”

“Yeah, and it also ain’t your business. So back off.”

“Fair enough.”

“Becca- this is poirfect!” Jack calls, hold’n his new harmonica with a big grin on his face.

“Now you’s can play for us like a real Cowboy!” I laugh. “I also gots Sarah a gift, so you can give it to her for me.”

Jack frowns suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Relax, Jack! It’s a red hair ribbon! You knows I would never mess around with someth’n as important as Christmas, don’t ya?”

Tha kids play with their new toys while I help the older fellas prepare Christmas dinner. It ain't much, but we did pool our resources for a decent small chicken. Trouble is that I gotta fight off any snackers once the meat’s wonderful aroma fills the kitchen.

“Shoo! It ain’t done yet, and you’s gonna spoil your supper!” I swat at Jack.

Race and Mush groan. “C’mon, Becs! Just a little-?”

“NO!” I shove them out and shut the door. “Unless anybody plans on actually help’n instead-a steal’n vittles, stay out!”

“What if someone wants to steal you?” A deep voice says behind me as strong arms cling to my hips.

I gasp. “Wha- How…?” I turn around and come face-to-face with Spot. “I ain’t even gonna try to figure out how you got in here without Jack see’n!”

Spot kisses my forehead. “I’s just full-a surprises.”

I grin. “Does that include distract’n? ‘Cause I can’t keep nobody outdda here. If you could keep the oddas occupied I’s might actually get dinner done in time.”

Spot squeezes me in a hug one last time before he says: “I ain’t a social butterfly, but if my reward is a help’n-a that good-smell’n chicken, I’ll gladly oblige.”

He winks and struts out, leave’n me grinn’n like an idiot. Then I hear:

“Hey, it’s Spot!”

“What’s he do’n here?”

“Probably to see Becca.”

“Jack, quit glare’n! He ain’t break’n the law!” “Shut up, Mush!”

“Who’s in for a card game?”

“I’m game! What stakes?”

“No gamble’n, Racetrack!”

“Aw!”

I sign as I shake my head, baste’n the chicken. 

In no time the chicken is done and I’s get’n the plates ready for the table.

“Joey, Dusty, Kenny! Get down here! Skippy, Henry, Matthew, Angel- you too!” I hollar.

I hear boots clomp’n down the stairs and head’n towards the kitchen. One by one, the giggl’n kids trot in.

“Please start set’n the table, and be careful- dis is the good plates,” I carefully hand the plates out. “Angel, please help me with the bread.”

She tries to mumble a response, but is unsuccessful.

“That’s ok, we’ll woik on that,” I give her a tight hug.

With the table set, I’m almost ready to sound the alarm- thought I godda admit the oddas have been eerily quiet…

“Kids, pick your spots at the table before the older kids do.” The little ones follow my advice and quickly claim chairs. “Fellas! Dinner time!” I shout upstairs.

“Yeah!!!” A cry of cheers erupts and the build’n sounds off like an earthquake. The guys come crash’n in and start brawl’n ova chairs. Once everybody’s settled down, I cautiously carry the chicken in from the kitchen. Everyone stops and stares in awe.

“Looks good, Becs!” Race says.

“Looks good? It smells good!” Mush drools.

“I call the wing!” PieEater announces.

“I get the dark meat!” Snipeshooter fights back.

“Can it! No one claims anyth’n!” I determine. I divide the meat up and pass the plate around, then go to sit next to Spot- who has teamed with Blink and Skittery to save me a seat.

“Crutchy, would you like to say Grace?” I ask.

He nods gratefully. We all join hands and close our eyes.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful Christmas we’s all have to share with each odda. This year’s truly been a new experience for all of us, both with high times and hard times. But we made it, and now we’s just thankful to be togedda. Thank you for bring’n Becca and Spot togedda, ‘cause life’s been so much bedda for them. Thank you for this wonderful chicken and the food we’s about to receive, and may we’s all continue to have anodda good year. Amen.”

“Amen,” we all chant.

“Ya had to bring that up?” Jack looks at Crutchy.

Crutchy shrugs. “It’s the truth, Jack. We’s all agree that Becca’s never been happier. Just ask her herself.”

I blush when Jack peers at me, then shrugs. “Guess so.”

Under the table, Spot squeezes my hand-which makes me blush harder.

“Enough argue’n, let’s eat!” Skittery says.

And we all dig in.

“Uggghhhh,” Blink groans. “Someone please kill me.”

“Only if you’ll spill open my guts,” Snipeshooter grunts back.

“I’ll never eat again!” Les complains.

Collapsed on the floor, I respond: “Glad to know you’s liked it.”

“Uh-huh,” everybody groans.

“So… what now?” Race asks.

“If you’s suggest’n a card game, I’ll soak ya,” Spot says from the couch. He motions to me, so I join him by curl’n up and lay’n my head on his chest.

“What ‘bout sing’n?” Joey suggests.

All the kids’ eyes light up. “Yeah!”

I grin. “Ok, ok. Somebody choose a song.”

We sing a few carols, and then Spot gets abruptly gets up and walks out. I don’t think much of it and go back to sing’n.

“Who wrote Christmas carols?” Dusty asks.

“I donno- some guy who had noth’n bedda to do,” Boots shrugs.

Then I hear it, a faint sound rise’n over the roar’n fire: an Irish whistle tune.

I look up, and sure enough, Spot Colon is play’n a whistle. A version of Noel, and it’s very good.

By now the oddas have looked up and notice Spot’s play’n, and when he’s done we all break out in applause.

“I didn’t know you coud play!” I grin proudly.

Spot winks. “Haven’t done it for years, but I figured this occasion was special. But now it’s time for you to sing!” He grips my arm and pulls me up as I shake my head.

“No, no, no- I ain’t sing’n by myself! It’s awkward and weird and-”

“Wonderful,” Spot says. “Your voice sounds gorgeous, Beauty. Please sing for us.”

Now the oddas join in.

“C’mon, Becs!” The kids plead.

“We won’t stop ask’n ‘til ya do!” Race snickers.

“Please, Becca?” David asks.

I groan in rejection but eventually give in and decide to sing someth’n biblical in a low octave.

“O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees,

O hear the angel voices.

O night divine!

O night when Christ was born.

O night divine!

O night, O night divine!

Truly He taught us to love one another.

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother

And in His name, all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord!

heir name forever praise we

Noel, Noel!

O night, O night divine!

Noel, Noel

O night, O night divine!”

I finish, and at foist nobody says anyth’n. Then Spot grasps my hand with one hand and holds my face with his odda.

“Beautiful. Ya sound so holy, sing’n like an angel,” Spot breathes, his eyes soft and full of luv.

“Yeah, Becca. I didn’t know you’s could sing like that,” Crutchy says.

“Me neither,” Jack says dumbfounded.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: remus and lily as siblings or half siblings or biological family in any capacity pls 🥺

Oh God!!! Baby!!!🥺🥺😭 This is such a favorite AU of mine!! I’m literally— sorta— writing a To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU right now and they are the bestest siblings in that!!!  They share a little sister and they are just so cute!! And Petunia is conveniently off in university oaiwefjoiaswejfiogreghoij And I just love Remus and Lily both so much it hurts!!! And so I wanna spit out a bullet point Ficlet at you! And I’m not even sorry just because I love you so endlessly for tossing this into my inbox foiwaeifmkaeoirfgjieoarujoidkioweajgh 

So like in my head, becs that Voldy bitch doesn’t know how to actually world build, the Muggle born children who get their Hogwarts letters, are also invited to join this like support group for ordinary folks with magical children. It’s like a thing that’s held in the Ministry of magic over in London once a month, and the parents are taught about the Wizarding world while their children kind of go to this separate room to intermingle and read Hogwarts; A History with one another, and just vibe, because pure bloods and those close to that have always sorta known one another and such, so this is a nice way for the Muggle borns not to feel so excluded.

So the thing is, obviously Lyall was a wizard, but also we all know I don’t fuck with him lmfao. So I picture that after he leaves for the final time when Remus is around nine, and finalizes the  divorce with Hope, she— being the bad bitch that she is, just marches to the ministry with her half-blood, werewolf son, and demands to learn everything about the world he’s part of, because she refuses to let him be deprived of anything. 

Eventually she becomes one of the tutors for the adult section because she’s such a quick study— being a professor herself back in Cardiff and just being an all around bombshell tbh. So one day, in February of 1970, there’s this ginger haired, northerner who stumbles in with his daughter who looks so much like him that it’s crazy— dimples and smile and upturned nose. Though she has her mother’s eyes, who had past away when she was only seven from a freak car accident.

And when he first shake’s Hope’s hand, he’s like kind of mind boggled over how beautiful she is, and thinks that maybe all wizards just put on some sort of charm to look unearthly, till he finds out that she’s as Muggle as he is towards the end of his visit. And he is just entirely love struck tbh.

And for the next couple months or so, he kind of just yearns from afar, and then spends the ride home to Cokeworth listening to Lily’s excited chortling about her friend Remus who’s apparently a half blood and who likes the same treats as her and knows how to draw things so amazingly, and it isn’t until like May, when he ambles to the other room and realizes that Remus is actually Hope’s fucking son, and he already knows that she said she began this group after separating from her husband who was a wizard himself. So Lily’s father— Nate— quite literally just shoots his shot and asks if Lily would like to get ice cream with her new friend since Petunia won’t be coming back from there Grams’s house till late, and Hope sorta smirks from over the kids’ heads because she sees exactly what he’s doing and is impressed that he’s finally done something for fuck’s sake.

And like obviously they fall hard for one another, and they probs get married like Lily’s second year at Hogwarts.

Wait, just Lily’s you ask??

Yes my beautiful duckling,  because plot twist!! (We lovee plot twists!!!)

In this AU i picture that McGonagall kind of visits during the summer months leading up to the children’s first year at Hogwarts, just to give them some supplementary readings and answer the questions for their future schooling, and when Dumbledore tells her about Remus’s full situation with his lycanthropy and all, she does some research, and figures out how Beauxbatons is much, MUCH more accommodating to “dark” creatures, and she’s already pretty chummy with Hope and knows that she’s actually a French citizen herself, the daughter of Algerian immigrants. So Remus technically has the possibility to attend Hogwarts or Beauxbatons, and so Hope and Remus talk on it long and hard, and she knows he’s already become fast friends with Lily and their thick as thieves with one another, but it’s also just so much safer for him.

So the week before Lily is set to go off to King’s Cross, they fly over to France and they get Remus settled in his dorm abroad.

I think while they’re away, Lily and Remus actually somehow become closer, because their parents are still dutifully dating and neither of them are all that familiar with their surroundings, so they send one another so many fucking letters through that first term, that the owls of their schools always give them the dirtiest looks lmfao. And they really catch on like a house on fire, like it’s one of those relationships that is just innate? Like you know when you have a best friend you guys kind of just slip into one another lives? Like even when you don’t talk for a while or whatever, it’s just natural<3 <3 

So neither of them ever spend the hols of winter or spring in Hogwarts/Beauxbatons, becs that’s when they really get to vibe.

They tell one another the different cool charms they’ve learned, and hate that they can’t show them with their actual wands yet. And they watch all their favorite films and almost adopt this secret language that’s only the quirk of their brows and twitch of the lips, and Petunia hates how freakily attuned they are with one another and sneers at them for being such freaks in all aspects. Also in this AU Lily fucks off from Snape wayyyy sooner, because instead of having to deal with that nasty, bigoted, slime ball she has the cutest and funniest and most amazing bestie in Remus!

And before Hope and Nate exchange vows in the winter of their second year, the little family of five go to this tiny park that’s all lush grassland and a shiny jungle gym and a pair of swings tucked away by trees, and they sit at this picnic table, and Hope— with her steady, ever buoyant voice, explains to them why she and Remus decided to send him to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts, and Petunia is like gawking in fright, and Nate looks sort of distressed, but Lily just cocks her head and shrugs her shoulders, because it’s still Remus— her closest companion Rem— and nothing could change that. So she takes his hand from where it’s fiddling with a splintered piece of wood on the tabletop and she squeezes it tightly, watches him glance up at her with the late summer wind billowing in his tawny curls and the fear in his honey eyes, and she simply tells him that it doesn’t matter. And Lily will never forget the way his features spasm at that, going suddenly loose and bright and thankful, and then Nate probably tousles his hair and kisses Hope’s temple and shyly asks how they should accommodate once they move in with one another.

And that park becomes sorta special tbh.

It’s in that alcove with the swings and trees where Lily and Remus go when things are becoming too much, or they would just like to escape the world by one another’s side.

It’s where they tried their first cigarettes that Remus had gotten from an older bloke in Beauxbaton’s when they were thirteen and feeling adventurous. And where they go to listen to the releases of their favorite albums, and when Remus told Lily that he’s gay for the first time before leaving to both their fourth years and it’s like one of those spots they both think of and feel golden.

Oh God! Imagine how cute of a celebration that Nate and Hope hold for them both becoming prefects!!! Hope and Nate definitely insist on some sort of summer todo! And they invite their friends and all that jazz and OMFG what if Lily’s wearing some sorta powder blue sundress that matches Remus’s oxford shirt and they both are grimacing in all the photos and are just not thriving foieajfoierjgiearfoijsdkgxh But like they would be doted on rotten that whole day! This is so cute! OMFG! And this probs means James became Prefect as well and so Remus gets to tease her when he sends her some sort of congratulations letter and she’s totally blushing and trying to hide her grin, and Lily retaliates by kicking his ankle tbh bahaha 

Okay also now I’m thinking of like Lily’s like fifth year, and her Muggle studies class is doing some sort of seminar to see if these idiots can actually survive in a totally Muggle area without a lick of magic, so like it’s spring hols, and guess who she’s partnered up with??? 

Cookies for you because we all know she had to work with James and Sirius lmfao!!! 

And she’s totally still trying to hide her crush on James— who’s nearly always leering and winking her way— and she might actually punch Sirius’s face simply because he’s such a smug bastard, and being from a working class family like herself, she’s like always ready to fight preppy rich boys tbh

So James and Sirius decide to plan out the simulation in her house that’s right outside Cardiff and Remus is cackling the entire morning before they’re set to arrive because she’s so pissy about it lmfao

Okay so like obviously the boys end up taking the port key and land in front of her place and it’s Remus who answers the door, still painted with humor because Lily was just screaming about “if Potter brings that insufferable snitch here I’ll bloody shove it up his arse” and James is immediately on the defense because Lily’s only ever talked about her sister and brother who live with her at home, and this dude is golden where she’s pale and has curls over her straight hair and just, obviously they’re not related by blood at all. And for his part, Sirius is like *Oh! Oh! Oh! Pretty!!! Pretty boy!! Muggle boy? Pretty Muggle boy!* 

But Remus obviously knows who they are straight away, so he like waves them inside before rounding to the stairs and calling for her to stop clogging the toilet or something else mortifyingly embarrassing, and Lily promises to put like pickles in the next set of face masks that they do because she knows how fucking allergic he is to them, and she wants her chuckles damn it!!  

“Potter— Black,” is how she greets them with a derisive sort of glower that Remus can completely see through, so he has to excuse himself while laughing over to the kitchen. “You’ve met my delightful brother I see.”

And James’s entire posture relaxes and he’s back to grinning like a dope, and the only weird part is that Sirius has got on the very same face, *Pretty Muggle boy is Evan’s brother* So like they are both scary levels of elated, rip.

But sucks to be Sirius because Remus leaves after that to meet up with a friend from town who’s also the best dealer tbh, and  so he has to deal with James’s awful levels of flirting with Lily while they scrounge up their itinerary to send their professor for the seminar type thing, and he doesn’t even have a pretty distraction XS

But Lily does force Remus to come along with her on the trip to London because “On God, if I spend a day alone with those bellends by myself I will punch a wall” 

And it is literally the worst, but best double date/first date that’s full of Sirius and James fucking up with everything— including asking some poor Tesco employee where are their fudgeflies and giving a homeless man a hand full of galleons and James’s snitch somehow ending up in the meaty hands of some kid at the tube. But also tbh it’s hella cute when Lily lets James give her his jacket when they’re walking along the Thames and it’s getting chilly, and when Remus lets Sirius share his stick of cotton candy and they both sorta stare at the sugar on each of their lips.

But then they go to some tiny museum, and while they’re looking at a impressionist piece, Sirius is totally trying to show off to Remus and is explaining how he could turn the bench their sitting on into a really nice bouquet of Lupins, and in the middle of his stupid showboating, Remus lightly corrects him on some facet of Gamp’s law, and Sirius freezes— shocked still— and he’ sort of gaping like an idiot, before Lily stops his blustering with a scoff “He’s a damn wizard also you arse.”

And Sirius is floundering for the rest of the evening, and he has so many questions, but they all die on his lips every time he glances over at Remus and he’s just smirking at him with this electric glint in his golden eyes

So obviously when they’re back at Hogwarts he pesters Lily every second of every day about Remus, and why he’s not at Hogwarts. “None of your fucking business.” And asking where Remus goes instead. “Beauxbatons, thankfully far away from you.” and he asks her about a thousand other questions that Lily either scoffs at or simply cuffs him around the head for daring to even try getting his address.

And she pokes fun about the situation to Remus and tells him how much more of an idiot he’s acting like, and how hilarious it all is. And she’s shocked when he responds to her letter merely by saying, “Hah- he’s cute.”

And so obviously she shoots back a reply that’s a letter of all his worst traits, mainly that he’s an arrogant toerag, and that he’s a posh idiot who could probably live off his inheritance for three lifetimes without blinking, and about how he doesn’t date anyone for longer than a couple months, and how he’s practically brothers with James bloody Potter, and yet again, Remus just tells her, Hah- he’s cute, before mildly moving to talking about his latest charms paper and how he’s been asked to be their DADA’s professors TA next year, and how Andrew keeps trying to try again with him but Remus would rather poke his eyes out with a spork.

So Lily is totally fuming when she recognizes that she’s lost and begrudgingly gives Sirius Remus’s info, after telling him lowly and with her most menacing glower, “IF you fuck around with my brother I will murder you without a flinch.” And she’s quite literally five feet nothing to Sirius’s broad, six-foot frame, but he knows that she could do it with a snap of the finger, and he promises that it’s not just a gag on his end. And Lily actually believes him.

So Remus and Sirius begin writing to one another a sickening amount, like so steadfastly that it gives Lily a complex whenever she finds Sirius waiting at the Owlry every Wednesday morning for the bird that arrives with two letters tied to it’s leg, one for each of them.

And God, one time, right before they let out for summer hols, Lily accidentally takes the one marked for Sirius— and holy christ!!!, She did not need to know just what exactly her brother has been getting up to in the sex department of things— like she legit contemplated using a memory charm on herself JFC

And Sirius probably ends up on their doorstep again in late July, with James at toe, and somehow their is a small harmony painted between the four of them, and it’s by Christmas of sixth year when James and Sirius begin talking about how amazing it’ll be when they’re actually in-law brothers, and Lily blames Remus for everything when she’s pretending to be cross over it, but then James puts his arm around her shoulders, and she sees how gentle Sirius is when he twines his fingers into Remus’s own, and it feels good, feels right. 

It feels like something that can be forever.

Send Me A Prompt/Chat With Me💜  |  My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

[catmaid-john]

Have some soulmate gretchella content courtesy of me (elliott) and em 👀 there was a lot of projecting as far as *ahem* character traits go, hope y’all enjoy!!!!

Summary: Gretchen has grown up with a less than ideal mindset about soulmates. How will they react when they meet their own?

Characters: Gretchen, Pamella, Marion, John, Jessique (mentioned), Vesna (mentioned), Eliza (mentioned)

Pairing(s): queer platonic gretchella

Warnings: subtle(?) homophobia and internalised homophobia, and that may be it but do read with caution as it’s pretty heavy. Let me know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 1,705

~

Gretchen was six when they asked about the red string on their finger.

“Daddy, what’s this?” they asked, holding up their pinky.

John sighed, closing his book he’d been reading in the study. “It’s a sign that you have a soulmate.”

“What’s a soulmate?”

“Someone meant for you. Like Vesna and I. We were soulmates, but didn’t let that define us.”

Gretchen tilted their head to the side. “What’chu mean?”

“Don’t let the world fool you. Everyone says soulmates are the most important part of life. They’re all wrong. You should focus on things like work and school, not some frivolous nonsense such as one person in all the world meant to be with you. Do you understand?”

Gretchen crossed their arms. “Okay, Daddy. Can we go fly kites today?”

“No, not right now. I have work to do. Maybe later.”

John hadn’t been doing work when Gretchen walked in.

They were ten the first time they saw a pair of soulmates first meet.

They were both boys. The red string that held them together turned white and they hugged.

Could Gretchen’s soulmate be a girl?

“Daddy?” they began as John drove them home from school that day. “I saw two boy soulmates today.”

John’s grip on the steering wheel tightened a bit. “I see.”

“Could my soulmate be a girl?”

“I’m not sure. I should hope not.”

Gretchen furrowed their brows. “How come?”

“Same sex soulmates have a higher mortality rate due to disapproval and lack of acceptance from peers. Not to mention they’re prone to… well, frankly, divorce.”

“But you and Mommy divorced.”

John’s grip tightened further, and Gretchen could see the marking on his pinky finger where his string once was.

“Yes, straight soulmates do divorce sometimes, but it’s higher in same sex soulmates.”

“Why? And what's morality?”

“Mortality. What I meant is that same sex soulmates more often die young and are even murdered. I don’t want that for you.”

Gretchen was suddenly scared. “What if my soulmate is a girl?”

“Don’t worry about that for now. It doesn’t matter.”

The conversation dissipated from there.

Gretchen was thirteen when they decided they didn’t want a soulmate anymore.

The odds of their soulmate being a girl were far too high. They didn’t want to end up like the dead soulmates their dad was talking about.

They took a pair of scissors and tried cutting their string. The scissors broke and clattered to the ground.

What? This had worked for John when he didn’t want a soulmate anymore. Were they doing it wrong?

They took a knife from the kitchen and sawed it across the string. The knife became ground down and dull.

They tried to untie the string but couldn’t find the knot. This soon became a game of finding the most slippery substance to help them slip out of the string.

Nothing worked. It was hopeless.

There was a chance that Gretchen was doomed to die young and there was nothing they could do about it.

Please let my soulmate be a boy, they thought. I wanna live.

They were seventeen when they stopped caring about what their father thought.

They also started using they/them pronouns alongside their step-sibling, Marion. John had married a woman named Eliza, who he claimed he met at a “gathering” for people who abandoned the soulmate life. Her kids were Marion and Jessique, who Gretchen liked much more than Eliza. Their dad had bad taste.

Gretchen was walking home from school when they felt a tug from their string. They usually felt an occasional pull from it but this was much stronger than that. It just about knocked them off their feet.

Before they could question it further, they were being pulled into the middle of the road. Luckily no one was driving, but Gretchen was still not having any of this today.

“Let me go!” they called uselessly.

It hurt to pull against the string but they really didn’t know what else to do. It was a little while before they suddenly collided with someone and was finally able to stop. Unfortunately the two of them crashed to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” the stranger yelped.

Gretchen put a hand to their forehead, which had bumped into the stranger’s. “No, it’s all good. No harm done.”

“I should have paid more attention but my string was pulling me away and I—”

Gretchen finally took a look at the stranger in question. Bright orange hair overtook every feature and it was radiant as the morning sun. Eyes like drops of chocolate, enticingly sweet. She was too perfect.

Gretchen looked down at their string. It was white.

“Hi,” the stranger murmured. “I’m Pamella. I guess we’re—”

Gretchen got up and ran.

They were in tears when they came to terms with what happened.

They stood in the bathroom sobbing in front of the mirror. John’s voice echoed in their head.

Same sex soulmates have a higher mortality rate due to disapproval and lack of acceptance from peers.

They shook their head to rid themself of their thoughts. They didn’t care what their dad thought. They didn’t.

Same sex soulmates more often die and are even murdered. I don’t want that for you.

No. It was all stigma. It was all lies. Shut up.

You should focus on things like work and school, not some frivolous nonsense such as one person in all the world meant to be with you.

Shut up!

Gretchen was on the verge of screaming but kept as quiet as possible. They didn’t want to worry their siblings.

They didn’t care what their dad thought. They didn’t.

Even still they couldn’t accept what they have faced.

Gretchen was eighteen when they met their soulmate for a second time.

Perhaps not entirely true, given that they had spotted Pamella at school a few times since their run-in. This, however, was their first proper encounter since Gretchen ran.

“Uh, excuse me!” Pamella’s voice called out, catching Gretchen’s attention. They realised who it was and tried to walk away faster.

Go away, go away, go away—

“Hey!” Pamella caught up with them, standing in front of them with a shy smile. “So… I, uh… wanted to give you time to process everything, but I’ve seen you avoiding me like crazy. I just… wanted to know why? At first I thought maybe you were upset about me knocking you over, but I don’t know. Man, I feel like an asshole.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Gretchen blinked. “Sorry,” they said on instinct. “Uh… it’s not you, it’s me, I gotta go.”

They walked away without another word.

Gretchen was home alone with Marion when they confessed to what had been going on.

“Wow,” Marion murmured. “I mean, obviously I knew you’d met your soulmate, I just thought… well, I don’t know. Why’d you run?”

Gretchen buried their face in their hands. “It’s complicated.”

“C’mon, talk to me, bestie.”

Gretchen sighed and sat up. “My dad scared me as a kid telling me I was gonna die if my soulmate was a girl.”

Marion paused, their expression never changing. “The fuck?”

“He was talking about, like, mortality rates of gay soulmates and divorce and shit, so… ten year old me took it to heart for some reason.”

“Huh. So when you realised your soulmate is a girl… aw, Gretch.”

“I know, it’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. I promise you, it’s not stupid. Your dad is a piece of shit.”

Gretchen snorted. “Yup, sounds right.”

“Don’t let him ruin your experience with your soulmate. I promise you, if you let your parent try to run your life, it’ll just hurt. Trust me.”

Gretchen glanced over at Marion. They couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Mari.”

“You gonna go after your soulmate?”

“I might have to.”

The next day at school, Gretchen was the one to approach Pamella.

“Hi,” they murmured shyly.

“Hey,” Pamella replied with hesitation.

“I, uh… I know I’ve been a dick… but… I wanna… try this whole thing again. You deserve better from your… soulmate.”

Pamella was clearly shocked, and Gretchen gave her time to process what they had said. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Hi. I’m Pamella. He/him pronouns.”

Gretchen blinked. That was unexpected.

“Oh. Uh, Gretchen. They/them pronouns.”

Pamella smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gretchen. I’m sure you’re a bit surprised that I’m… ya know, trans. I’m not out to my parents, so that makes it a bit hard to transition, not to mention I’m scared to get my hair cut.”

“I mean, you don’t need a haircut to be trans, though. Being trans makes you trans. I mean, I’m still feminine and nonbinary as fuck, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

Pamella blushed. “Thanks. I’m glad you get it.”

Gretchen grinned. Maybe having a soulmate wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Gretchen and Pam were twenty when they decided to label themselves as platonic soulmates.

They weren’t romantically involved and they were okay with that. Gretchen was aromantic and Pam didn’t care about relationships. He really just wanted to be with Gretchen in a platonic way. They were all he needed.

They had tried to make it work as romantic soulmates, which didn’t last long.

The one thing they continued to do in their platonic relationship was cuddle.

Gretchen laid on top of Pam, who laid on his back and ran his hand up and down their back. Gretchen was having a difficult day and all they needed was cuddles on the couch with a movie on the TV.

Gretchen looked up at Pam, his new haircut still ravishing in their eyes. Gretchen had been tempted to shave their head but decided against it since they liked how they dyed it. Black on one side, their natural brown on the other.

“Pam?” they murmured.

Pam glanced down at them. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we’re soulmates because we just understand each other so much?”

Pam smiled. “I think we’re soulmates because we complete each other in a way no one else gets.”

Gretchen smiled back. They laid their head back down and closed their eyes, Pam running a hand through their hair.

“I’m glad we crashed into each other.”

Pam chuckled. “Me too, love.”

@nachosforfree

[dreamingdot]

☁️         𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐮 — ( 𝐭𝐰 : 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐥𝐬 / 𝐥𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐠’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 )

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 — 𝐤𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧.

          haru was raised in a small, shabby apartment by the river thames in london. being raised by a florist mother, and a luthier father, his childhood seemed to pass by with an uncommon level of gentleness and ease ; accompanied by the vibrant sound of violins and cellos, with his days wrapped up in the sweet scent of flowers. 

          music, by kevin penkin, is an instrumental piece which i feel captures the gentle sweetness of haru’s childhood quite wonderfully. 

𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 — 하근영 (𝐡𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠) & 조은정 (𝐣𝐨 𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠). 

          haru is raised with an abundance of kindness and love, and so it comes to the boy as naturally as breathing —— the way that he blooms so freely ; and like the vibrant flowers he was named after, there grows to be something so inexplicably bright, and deeply lovely about haru. perhaps this is thanks to his mother ; for as a florist she raises haru not to think of the passage of time through hours and minutes, but through the opening and closing of flowers. 

          past memories, by ha geunyoung and jo eunjung, is ( yet another ! ) instrumental piece which has a soft and almost magical quality to it. i feel as though haru’s childhood was as gentle as the loveliest of dreams, and past memories makes me feel the same way when i listen to it ! 

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐛𝐞𝐜 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞. 

          thirteen years old & haru’s world is turned upside down when his mother is diagnosed with als ; a motor neurone disease. in the early days of her diagnosis, haru’s remains the beacon of brightness and warmth that haru has always known her to be. yet as the days pass and darken, haru begins to realise that his mother is human, just like he is, and it is a lesson that he learns quickly : that humans were not made to always be strong. there are flowers wilting on a hospital bedside table —— next to them, there is a woman who is afraid to die and leave her husband and her son in this world without her. haru presses his hands to his mother’s with a tenderness, because if these moments are their last, he wants his hands in hers. 

          wild heart, by bec sandridge is a song that begins sounding mournful and full of melancholy ; but as the song progresses, there is something beautiful and something of strength in the melody, the sound of the singer’s voice, and the swell of strings which accompany her in the final parts of the song. i feel that this song represents haru’s journey with coping with, and then growing from his mother’s death —— and despite all the melancholy and sadness, this song highlights haru’s bright heart. 

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 — 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐞. 

         once in a blue moon, something inexplicably and perfectly magical happens. such is the case when moon haru —— a boy who feels like he is nothing more than the sum of his sorrows, meets nam aejung for the first time ; and the two help each other heal, and they soon grow to love each other. 

          dance with me, by beabadoobee captures the feelings of a first love in bloom ; the nerves, the excitement, and the waythat  haru felt like, just perhaps, he was made for the sole reason of loving aejung. it’s a soft, romantic, and lovely song —— and it captures he and aejung’s high school sweetheart relationship-turned marriage, perfectly. 

어디로 갈까 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐠𝐨?) — 황푸하 (𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐮𝐡𝐚). 

‘ where should i go ? where should i go ? can’t you hear my heart ? then tell me words of love. it’s late, but come back to me —— please come back. ’

          when haru loses aejung in an accident, the healing that he’d begun to suture into his soul after the death of his mother ; unravels until nothing is left but an open wound and a heaped, bloodied pile of string. 

          where shall i go, by hwang puha, explores loneliness, sorrow, wishing one could go back in time, and wishing someone would come back —— representing this feeling of loss and grief in haru’s life. 

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 — 𝐯𝐨.𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐛𝐫.𝐱𝐱＆𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐧.

‘ in the light of morning i left my bed and street ; past the park and bench where we no longer meet —— i found a path forgotten ( green and evergrown ) ; i followed my own footsteps and walked there on my own. threads : something’s pulling me, i move ahead. ’

          it takes six months for haru to tidy up his affairs in london. the funerals, packing away the painful remnants of the life of love he was promised into boxes, visiting the graves of his mother, father, and wife. conversations with ghosts. “ aejung-ah. we never did get to see the yunhwa flowers together, did we ? ”

          haru arrives in yunhwa and walks and walks and walks until the ache in his feet distracts from the wound in his soul. he finds his way to aejung’s grandparents bookstore and home in the naminsan forest area ; anshikcheo books —— ‘ sanctuary books ’. deoksu and mija welcome haru into their home as if he were their own grandson, and mija takes his face in her gentle, lined hands ; telling haru that he can stay as long as he needs —— that he’s safe here ; that this is a sanctuary for all, and a sanctuary for him to heal. 

          threads, by vo.nai br.xx & celeina ann is what i envision haru’s grieving and healing process sounds like ; it evokes feelings of loss, but it also sounds hopeful in its gentle instrumentation and vocals. 

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 — 𝐲𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚. 

          there’s a tenderhearted but woebloomed man who works at a little bookstore café at the foot of the mountains which border yunhwa. he’s terribly kind, but terribly broken —— and he fills his days with helping others discover their stories, because for the moment, he doesn’t know how to continue on writing his own. since the accident one year ago, haru has felt as though there’s been an essential part of his soul missing ; a deep wound which he fears may never really be able to heal. most days he wakes up with a tear stained pillow and a soul so drenched in sorrow that it feels as though all that he is made of is pain. but on some rare, quiet, and gentle mornings, haru rises with the sun —— he rides his bicycle from yeyun inn to venture on towards anshikcheo books ; a sanctuary for all. on gentle mornings he’ll take a detour, and walk up the mountainside trail at dawn ; lungs burning and body aching until he reaches it. he forgets his sadness for a moment as he steeps in the deep loveliness of yunhwa flowers bloomed along the mountainside. he stands there with tears in his eyes. he breathes in deep. he remembers those he’s lost, and then he carries on. he is full of sorrow, but he also has the courage to hope.

          and so the days pass by quietly.

         it’s a small existence, but it’s his.

[askcecilylappin]

Cecily Lappin — Introduction

Growing up in Nottingham Village, Cecily learned early to keep her head down, stay out of the Sheriff of Nottingham’s way, and ensure her brothers and sisters did the same. Taxes were high and her school days ended early so that she could bring in a wage to help meet them. When she found work as a housemaid in the sheriff’s household, she had mixed feelings: the money was better than anything a not-quite-thirteen-year-old-girl might hope to earn elsewhere, but how could she take it, knowing that it had been wrung from the pockets of her fellow villagers? Her mother urged her to accept. “It’s the only way we might get some of that money back, after all!” Her brother Skippy thought it was the perfect opportunity for her to spy on the Sheriff for Robin Hood. Cecily just wanted to do her work and not overthink things.

Unfortunately, when a trinket went missing from the manor, Nottingham blamed his newest housemaid and Cecily found herself locked in a cell and sentenced to hang. Had Robin not rescued her, Cecily had no doubt that the sentence would have been carried out within days.

Going back home was far too dangerous, so she stayed with the outlaws that night and the night after. On the following morning, Much the Miller’s son, one of Robin’s men, ventured into town and returned with the news Nottingham had gone to her home to hunt for her, first thing and threatened to take her younger brother in her place, should she not surrender herself. That same night, her family had fled for parts unknown. Robin and the Merry Men assured her that they would keep looking. Meanwhile, she remained with their camp, making herself useful.

One night, she went to sleep as usual, and when she awakened, everything felt hazy. That day, and the days that followed, seemed to pass in a fog. Robin and a number of the Merry Men weren’t about. Come to think of it, they hadn’t been for a while, but she was sure that they’d be back soon. In any case, there was no reason to worry. Life went on.

And then one day, Cecily was stirring a pot of stew when she froze. It felt like she’d been sleeping and her brother had thrown a bucket of ice water over her. Around her, the other Merry Men were also blinking and shaking themselves. Behind her, she could hear Roland crying for his father and Isabella trying to comfort him. And then, Robin was there and so was Little John and Friar Tuck and the others she hadn’t seen in she didn’t know how long! That night, they feasted.

The next day, Much ventured into Nottingham and came back to report that the sheriff hadn’t been seen in ever so long. Nobody could remember exactly when they’d spied him last. Over the next few days, they watched the roads and when the rare travelers passed, pressed them not for their valuables, but for information. Nobody had answers for them, but they learned that almost the entire realm’s population—apart from their little corner of it—had vanished. Nobody—apart from Robin and his men—had come back, and they didn’t even remember where they’d been.

Discussions were held. With the sheriff gone, Nottingham was prospering. There was little work for Robin and his men and little need for an outlaw protector. It seemed that the king had never actually demanded the level of taxation that the sheriff had implemented; Nottingham had been lining his own pockets with the excess. Robin and his men decided to move on and seek injustice elsewhere.

Cecily remained behind. She didn’t know where her family was, but if they were still in this land, she hoped that word would reach them that the Sheriff was no longer a problem, and once it did, she knew they’d come back to look for her. At least, she hoped they would. Meanwhile, she could manage on her own for the time being. She returned to Nottingham.

It was a lonely life, but there was plenty of work to fill it. From time to time, Robin or one of his men stopped by to look in on her and make sure she had what she needed. She did odd jobs about the village and became known as someone who could usually soothe a fretful infant or pitch in with some light housekeeping duties. Sometimes she was paid in coin, other times in food. When she had time, she went to the marketplace or to the tavern, hoping to find someone who had word of her family. Life was hard, but she was used to that. For now, it was enough.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 11

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

A/N: I know, I know. It’s been forever since I’ve updated! But here you go! I really hope people are still into this series...

As soon as Bucky approached the long driveway, your jaw dropped. It was a beautiful estate, two stories high but looked so wide that it probably had thirteen bedrooms!

Bucky chuckled at your state of awe and closed your mouth, “You’ll catch flies, sweet cheeks.” As soon as he parked the car, he hopped out of his seat and rushed over to your side, holding the door open and lending a hand out to help you. 

You kissed his cheek, “What a gentlemen,” and Bucky was beaming. 

“My girl deserves to be treated like a queen,” he says nonchalantly and offers his arm to you, “So, you ready?” 

You sighed, looking down at your dress to make sure nothing was out of place, “As I’ll ever be. Do I look okay?”

“Radiant.”

You rolled your eyes and nudging him, “Alright, smooth talker, let’s get this show on the road.” 

Bucky guided you up the pathway to his home, unlocking it with his keys. As soon as the door opened, he hollered, “Guys, I’m back!”

“Uncle Bucky!” two young boys ran towards him, wielding lightsaber toys. The smaller one with dark brown hair and blue eyes steps forward and points at the taller boy, “Andy refuses to die!”

Their uncle snorts, “Say what now?”

The other boy, you assumed to be Andy, rolled his eyes, “He knicked me with his saber and he thinks I should die because of it, but I want because it wasn’t a full on stab!”

You give Bucky an amused look and he shrugs, “Kids, am I right? Anyway, enough of the killing talk. Boys, this Y/N-”

“Your girlfriend?!” 

He chuckles, “Yeah, buddy. Now be polite and introduce yourselves.”

The older boy steps forward and offers his hand, “Hello, Y/N. I’m Andrew Proctor. I’m 8 and I wanna work for NASA when I grow up.”

The younger boy steps forward, “And I’m Matthew! You can call me Matty. I’m 6 and I wanna work with dinosaurs when I grow up.”

“Dinosaurs are dead, Matty,” Andrew says with an eyeroll. 

“It’s nice to meet you both. You two seem like very smart and fun young boys.”

“We are!” Matty says excitedly. 

Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you close, “Alright, fellas, go on. Gotta find your parents and grandparents.”

“They’re all in the kitchen. Nana was scolding the cook for not making mashed potatoes correctly,” Andrew and Matty snicker. 

Bucky groans and tugs you along, “Oh fun.” 

As you followed Bucky towards the kitchen, your eyes wandered to the architecture, art, and pictures hanging all over the place. With a squeeze of your hips, you look to Bucky whom was giving you that soft look in his eyes, “I’ll give you a tour of the place later. But right now, I need to make sure my ma doesn’t kill my cook.”

When you neared what you believed to be the kitchen, you can already hear muffled yelling. Bucky pushed the door open and there at the other end is an older woman looking to be in her 60s shouting at one of the cooks. But as soon as she spots Bucky, she stops.

“Oh, Jamie! You’re back!” her eyes then jump from him to you, “And you must be his girlfriend!”

She rushes over to you and before you introduce yourself, Bucky speaks up, “Now hold up, ma. I told you not to argue with the cooks.”

His mother scoffs, “For being professional cooks, they’re being pretty lousy at it.”

“Ma-”

“Winnie,” an older man, you assumed to be Bucky’s father, stood up and approached his wife, “we told you to leave them alone. Bucky brought these people in so you don’t have to stress about cooking. Now, as I requested before, why don’t you drink some wine and cool down,” he handed a full glass of wine to his wife and then offered a hand to you, “George Barnes and this,” he rest an arm around his wife’s shoulder, “is my darling wife, Winnifred Barnes.”

After you shook George’s hand, Winnie shook yours, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Y/N. I apologize for this and please, call me Winnie.”

You softly smiled at the older woman, “It’s not a problem, Winnie. You have a certain way of doing things and I respect that.”

George and Winnie moved to the side so a younger couple could step forward. The woman, you knew, was Becca, and she threw her arms around you, giving you a nice, tight hug, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N! Bucky would literally not shut up about you! He’s always like ‘Sweet cheeks this and sweet cheeks that’.” 

You burst into laughter at the impression while Bucky glared at her, “Bec-”

“Oh calm down. Don’t get your Gucci undies in a twist!”

The man beside her smiled shyly at you and waved, “H-Hi, Y/N. I’m Charles Proctor, Becca’s wife.”

You waved back at him with a polite smile, “Nice to meet you, Charles.” you can already see how different him and Becca are. 

Bucky clapped his hands together, “So, I think we should all head into the living room and let the cooks finish up here.” he went to grab for your hand, but Becca already pulled you with her towards the kitchen door and out to the hallway.

“Snooze, you lose!” Becca cried out and your laughter echoed off the walls. You already liked Becca. 

___________

“RAAAAH!” Andy and Matty yelled as they stabbed Bucky with their lightsabers in front of the fireplace. 

Bucky stumbled back, putting a hand on his chest, “Oh no! I’ve been slayed!” he falls to his knees, looking towards you, who’s sitting on a chair across from where he’s at, “Avenge me, sweet cheeks!” and then he falls to his “death” on the carpet. 

“HAAAH! VICTORY!” Andy yells and him and Matty dance around Bucky’s “dead” body while you and their family laugh. 

Matty pointed his saber towards you, “Now you gotta fight us, Y/N, to ‘venge Uncle Bucky’s death!”

You shook your head, “No way! I can’t beat you guys! You’re undefeatable!”

Bucky sat up with a playful pout, “You’re not even gonna fight for me, sweet cheeks?! How rude!” 

You rolled your eyes and waved him off, “Go back to playing dead.” While Bucky’s jaw dropped in offense, Becca threw her head back and laughed, “I really like this girl, Buck! You got a good one!”

You could feel your cheeks heating up and Bucky smiled, “I guess I did, despite her not wanting to avenge my death.” He stood up with a groan and pat his round belly, “I’m gonna check to see if the food’s almost done.”

You stood up along with him, “I’ll go with,” and followed him back to the kitchen. When you two were out of earshot, you asked, “How am I doing?”

Bucky twirled you around and kissed your lips, “Amazing. They really like you, Y/N.”

You let out a breath of relief, “That’s good to know. I’m really trying hard to be weird or disappointing or-”

“Hey,” he cupped your face in his larger hands, “I told you, just be yourself and they’ll love you.”

You stared into Bucky’s blue eyes and you couldn’t help the question that fell from your lips, “Do you love me, Bucky?”

His breathing hitched and, for a moment, he remained silent, but then he said, “I think I’m starting to,” and you felt your heart soar. 

 Good Business Taglist (CLOSED): @cametobuyplums @sergeantrosabellaswan @asadmarveltrashbag​ @youcanhaveyourspacecowboy​ @reniescarlett​ @j-the-smol-otter @buckysknifecollection @lowkeysebby @rinthehufflepuff @134340-cm @snoot-snoot-toot @seabassali1328 @bluebellhairpin @emzy106 @viarogers @feelmyroarrrr @vxidnik @jasura @jade-cheshire3303 @yknott81 @baliebay19 @jessieray98 @fandommemporiumm @iluvsumbucky @bucksandroses @lecoindenox @ylva-stark @booktease21 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @cheyenne222222 @momobaby227

[pyrewrites]

Thirteen Days

Entry number 2 into the @bechloe-week Weekley Bechloe mini-challenge. This for the prompt ‘quarantine’.

Ao3

Thirteen Days

It was only day 6 of lockdown but LA already had a death toll. The rising count statewide was actually what finally got the state government to act. It was scary as hell but Chloe was in lockdown with her favorite person in the entire world. Her roommate, up and coming musician, and the girl she had been in love with for nearly a decade, Beca Mitchell.

Chloe suspected that she would have been in a much worse state of mind if not for Beca. Chloe was suffering from information overload on a near-daily basis before lunch. Beca had on more than one occasion hidden both of their phones and laptops behind the locked door to what had originally been designated as Chloe's bedroom but quickly became a guestroom/Beca's home studio space, and removed the batteries from all the remotes except for the blu-ray player that had Netflix to keep Chloe from looking up any more doom and gloom. And Chloe was grateful. Yesterday had been especially bad. Chloe had come across a pair of reports of deaths that blew a hole the size of the 405 in the claims that 'only the elderly and immunocompromised had to worry'. The first was a college athlete without a single health problem. He was the same age Chloe had been the day she met Beca. The second was a 13-year-old girl. She had spent hours curled up in Beca's arms alternating between crying and having panic attacks as the reality of the situation set in. Beca had run a marathon of Disney movies in their shared bedroom the whole rest of the day until Chloe had drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Chloe was making a sizable breakfast of all of Beca's favorites to bring her in bed to thank her for everything she did the day before. She glanced at the clock figuring she had enough time to finish before Beca woke up. She had just finished plating the food and was turning to the fridge to get the orange juice when her entire world stopped at the sound of a violent coughing fit coming from the bedroom. Her mind immediately flashed back to the last time they had gone to the store to stock up when the rumors of the lockdown started getting serious. The store had been packed. Despite all the talk of social distancing, Chloe would have been shocked if there was a total of six feet of open space in the entire store. That had been a week before the lockdown order had been given. Thirteen days ago.

Chloe sprinted to the bedroom. She slammed the door open to find Beca doubled over, still coughing. The covers on the bed had been kicked away from her body. Her face was flushed, which could have been attributed to the coughing fit. But the sheen of sweat over every inch of exposed skin Chloe could see was not the fault of coughing.

“Oh god no,” Chloe whispered. She rushed forward nearly jumping onto the bed. “Beca!”

Her coughing continued. She tried to speak only to cough again before she could form any coherent words. Chloe placed a hand on Beca's forehead only to yank it away from her burning skin. Chloe ran into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water. After a few moments of searching, she found a bottle of cough syrup and a digital thermometer. She dashed back to the bed. She opened the bottle and handed it to Beca then started running the cold washcloth over the back of Beca's neck as she tilted her head back swallowing probably more than the recommended dosage.

“Thank you.” Beca croaked as Chloe wiped over her forehead and face, then down her chest and arms.

  “I'm calling the doctor,” Chloe said. Not saying '  to find out where to get tested'   out loud. But Beca saw the panic growing in her eyes. She turned on the thermometer and waited for it to chime ready. “Open.”

Beca dutifully opened her mouth and closed it again around the annoying plastic and metal probe. As soon as it was in place she watched as Chloe tried her best not to run from the room to get her phone. After several moments she could hear Chloe's voice but couldn't make out what she was saying until she shouted.

“I know the symptoms! They are all over the news and the internet! The last time we were out in public for any reason was thirteen days ago!”

Chloe's voice dropped again but it was obvious she was coming back to the bedroom just as the thermometer beeped.

“Yes, she is running a fever,” Chloe said as she walked up to the bed and plucked it from Beca's mouth. “Shit. It's 100.8, we need to come in today. As soon as possible.”

Beca watched as the tension in Chloe's face started to relax.

“Yes. Both of us. We went to the store to stock up two weeks ago and have been in close contact with each other in our apartment since.” Chloe paused. “Ok. Thank you very much.”

Chloe took the thermometer and the cough syrup back into the bathroom. She swung the door closed behind her so she could lean against the counter and try not to burst into tears. She only managed to stay quiet when she did start crying.

“Chlo?” Came Beca's scratchy voice from the bedroom after several minutes of Chloe not returning from the bathroom.

“Yeah. Just a second.” Chloe called trying to keep her voice even. She wiped at her face and almost considered doing her makeup, but decided that would make it even more obvious since they had both stopped bothering days ago. She slowly pulled open the door and started towards the hallway. “Just stay in bed. I'm going to bring you the breakfast I was fixing.”

Beca started to shuffle pillows around so she could sit up. She had gotten herself set up by the time Chloe returned with her food. She made another trip to get her own breakfast and climbed into bed with Beca.

“What was this for?” Beca rasped.

“I was thanking you for yesterday and all those Disney movies without complaining even once.” Chloe smiled.

“You didn't have too. But I'm glad you did.” Beca said before coughing a few times.

“Our appointment is at one. They have a mini drive-up testing center set up to keep from exposing other people that have other reasons to go to the doctor right now.”

Beca just nodded, not wanting to talk much more than she had to with her throat hurting.

Chloe turned on the tv and started searching Netflix. She turned on something light and kinda mindless to watch while they ate.

After they finished breakfast Chloe went digging in their closet. At the time the lockdown order had gone into effect they hadn't had any orders about wearing masks in public yet, so Chloe hadn't gone looking since they had stocked up enough food for at least another week and a half. She found what she was looking for tucked into a side pocket of her suitcase. She and Beca had joined the Beale family ski trip last year over Christmas. Chloe had gotten them a pair of 'neck warmer ski masks' that looked like a turtleneck that had been removed from its shirt. It could be pulled all the way up over your nose to keep your face warm and Chloe figured that much fabric would be much better than cutting up a t-shirt like the internet was suggesting. But given they weren't even going to have to get out of the car to get tested they might not even need them at all.

Chloe made them some sandwiches and packed them both a lunch because she had no idea how long they might be waiting despite having an appointment. She gathered a clean change of clothes for Beca, who hadn't gotten dressed yet since waking up. All of this in-between sessions of panicked pacing in the living room.

Once Beca was dressed Chloe changed into clothes that were more acceptable to wear in public before hustling Beca out to the car. She ran back inside to grab their packed lunch and took a long slow look around the home that they had built together, fighting back tears again.

Chloe barely heard the music playing in the car as she drove. The trip took less than a quarter as long as she was planning. There were virtually no cars on the road.

  “Is it just me or does it feel like we are in the opening scenes of some post-apocalyptic movie and we are like the last people left on earth?” Beca was the one to say it, which itself said how deserted the roads were.

They pulled up outside the doctor's office at 12:15, a full half-hour earlier that Chloe had expected. She saw a small tent in one corner of the parking lot and every other parking spot around that corner blocked off. She drove over and was waved down by a person in essentially a hazmat suit holding a clipboard. Chloe opened the window less than an inch, just enough to communicate.

“Do you have an appointment?” The person said.

“Yes, we do. Mitchell and Beale for 1 o'clock. Sorry we are early, I honestly didn't give any thought to how little traffic there would be.” Chloe said.

“Don't worry about. Everybody has done the same thing. We will get you taken care of as quickly as possible. Just wait in the car and we will hold up a sign with your name when it's your turn. Go ahead and park over there.” The person pointed to the end of the row in front of them. “Should be about 10-15 minutes.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said as she put the car back in gear. “How are you doing Becs?”

Beca shrugged and reclined her seat a bit before curling up.

Chloe watched as Beca nearly dozed off then turned her attention to the team working their way through the few cars waiting. They moved with a practiced efficiency that both impressed and frightened Chloe. She zoned out watching their movements until the person with the clipboard waved to get her attention. They held up a small whiteboard with Mitchell-Beale written on it. Chloe's heart skipped a beat.

Chloe pulled up to the spot she was directed to and rolled down both windows. The workers checked their temperatures with laser thermometers, that Chloe thought were pretty cool. They had both of them stick out their tongues so they could check their throats. Then they performed the test, which was very unpleasant. Before they let them leave they did a second swabbing of their throats.

“We will call you when the results come in. Good luck.” One of the workers said as they stepped back from the car to let them leave.

Chloe could barely bring herself to smile at them as she rolled up their windows. She didn't say a word the entire drive home.

When they got home they both changed back into more comfortable clothes and Beca crawled back into bed and took a nap. Chloe wanted to climb into bed and just hold Beca, but instead, she quietly closed the door before retreating to the living room, turning on the tv for some sound, and began crying again.

Chloe jerked awake at the sound of metal clanging in the kitchen. She looked around in confusion. The sun was setting outside. A blanket slipped off of her as she sat up awkwardly trying to move with a sore back.

She shuffled out to the kitchen to find Beca setting a pot of water on a burner.

“What are you doing?” Chloe said, her voice still thick with sleep.

“I woke up from my nap and you weren't there. I found you asleep on the couch so I covered you with a blanket and watched some tv for a while. Then I was in the mood for ramen. So here we are.” Beca said. Her voice still rough but it was better than it had been that morning.

“Go sit down,” Chloe ordered. “You are sick. I'll fix your food.”

Beca looked like she was going to object right up until Chloe shot her a look that said Beca wasn't going to win this argument. She stepped away from the stove and headed for the living room.

“And thank you for the blanket,” Chloe whispered as she placed a light kiss on Beca's cheek.

The next two days went much the same. Beca slept a lot. Chloe cried a lot and tried not to think about the sore throat she was starting to develop. Beca continued to be stubborn and tried to take care of herself as often as possible. And Chloe almost as often either ordered or, on three different occasions, physically carried Beca to the couch or bed to get her to stop.

The afternoon of the third day, after an especially bad coughing fit, Chloe broke. She started crying in front of Beca for the first time since she woke up sick days ago.

“Hey hey hey. It's ok Chlo.” Beca said as she gathered Chloe into her arms and started stroking her hair.

“No. It's not ok Beca.” Chloe's voice cracked. “I can't do this without you.”

“Can't do what?”

“This! Everything. My whole life. I can't lose you.” Chloe said between sobs.

“You aren't going to lose me Chlo.”

“You don't know that! And I don't want to live the rest of my life without you.”

“What the hell Chloe?”

“Beca I am trying to tell you that I'm in love with you and I don't want you to die!”

Beca stared opening and closing her mouth for what seemed like an hour.

A phone ringing startled both of them. Beca reached over and picked up her phone from her nightstand.

  “Hello? … Speaking. … I see. … Both of us? … Ok. … Yes, the one on file. … Yes. Thank you.” Beca hung up. After she set down her phone she took a slow deep breath. “Chloe. I love you too. I'm  in   love with you too.”

  “On no. Nononononono.” Chloe started crying again. She grabbed her own phone and started furiously started typing. “Fuck!”

“What?” Beca asked as Chloe started typing again.

“Apparently the courts aren't considered 'essential services' right now. Maybe they haven't locked down Vegas yet.” Chloe said distractedly.

“What are you talking about Chlo?”

“If one or both of us is going to die in the next few weeks I want to die knowing I got to be married to the love of my life.” Chloe looked up at the sound of Beca gasping. And found tears running down her smiling face.

Beca slowly reached out and took Chloe's phone from her.

“How 'bout you take me on at least a few dates first? But first, you need to make a run to the pharmacy at the Ralph's down the street.”

“Wha...but the internet says there's no treatment yet.”

“They ran a preliminary test here, but they have to send it to the CDC to make sure.”

“And...?”

“They came back negative for both of us. The test that came back positive was for strep throat.”

“So you're going to be ok?” A smile started spreading across Chloe's lips.

“Yeah. After a few more days of this fucking sore throat. And you're probably gonna get it too so they sent prescriptions for both of us to the pharmacy.” Beca grinned. “Maybe you can pick up some pizza while you are out and we can have that first date. Unless you still want to jump right to getting married.”

“After all this time it still surprises me that I am in love with such a pain in my ass.” Chloe laughed.

“'All this time'? Just how long have you been in love with me?”

“Think I'm going to let you wonder about that for awhile. I have to make a trip to the store.” Chloe said as she hopped off the bed giggling.

“Now who's the pain in the ass?” Beca called after her as she skipped down the hall. The sound of Chloe's laughter echoed back into the bedroom and it was the most beautiful thing Beca had ever heard...so far.

[ardenttheories]

And here are my observations from playing the Jade and Karkat/Kanaya routes, ft. conclusions at the end of what I think might be happening in Pesterquest.

JADE

Note one: Jade’s dreams haven’t been coming to pass, indicating that nothing to do with SBURB is actually happening, and this is definitely a fractured timeline

Note two: Jade’s not dreaming on Prospit anymore? Curious. This might suggest that something has happened to her Dreamself; likely that her connection to it has been severed, since if she were still dreaming in the game or if it’d died, she’d see the horrorterrors. She didn’t mention anything like that.

Note three: Jade notes that the fabric of their universe is being torn apart. An explanation for how all this is working without causing extreme paradoxes?

Note four: Jade’s lived her life knowing exactly how special she was going to be. Being cut off from that by the Reader is giving her a mild existential crisis

Note 5: In the “Game Over” ending, Bec and the Reader end up on Derse - where the people are already prototyped with jester outfits, aka John’s prototyping. Which is impossible, since John hasn’t entered the game yet. 

Note 6: We also see Aradia and Sollux from canon, which makes sense, since the Green Sun exists outside the universe specific to the Pesterquest timeline. Makes me wonder off handedly that maybe Bec leapt both of them back into Homestuck canon rather than Pesterquest canon?

Note seven: The time capsule doesn’t work anymore, and has actually wilted. This is a likely indication that the paradoxes are glitching out?

Note eight: The guards mention that Jade isn’t meant to get to Prospit like that, and seem worried. Whatever’s happened seems to be having an effect on things like Prospit and Derse.

Note nine: Jack Noir is still there? He doesn’t seem to be Bec Noir, but Reader only sees his silhouette. Even so, you’d expect them to notice the crackling green energy on him and the dog ears - and Reader doesn’t mention that. So, somehow, a non-Bec Jack Noir is flying over Prospit with the Red Miles. Probably the one from just before Jade’s prototyping.

Note ten: Jack destroys Prospit with the Red Miles - and even Jade seems confused by the fact that the game paradoxically exists despite everything going horrifically wrong

Note eleven: I think it’s pretty much confirmed now that, unlike John, Reader is fucking with canon in a way that isn’t sustainable. They’re not following the usual rules, and the universe has no idea how to keep up. Not sure why we’re still seeing prototypings for Prospit and Derse, though. I’m assuming the attack on Prospit we see is the one where Jade’s Dreamself dies - and John’s wakes up.

Note twelve: The Reader dissolves into the Ether of canon. So this... makes me realise something really bad. This isn’t just one timeline the Reader is fucking up - it’s the entirety of Homestuck itself. It’s the STORY of Homestuck. That might be why some of these things are still happening, even though they shouldn’t - because it’s more than the timeline that’s breaking.

Note thirteen: Reader thinks there’s something more that’s going to come at the end. That the kids are wholly fate-bound. This might suggest that something IS going to happen, eventually - but no idea what yet.

KARKAT

Note one: Reader tries to go to Prospit. They manage it, but not to the Prospit that they anticipated - for some reason? I’m assuming it’s because “canon said so”, but it’s curious that the general idea of Prospit took them to a completely different universe in the past.

Note two: Not a lot else happened in relation to the fucked up timeline specifically, but we did get the sense - once again - that the Reader has somehow stopped the trolls from playing their game. Since Sollux assumes Karkat’s asking to be the leader again. Not sure at what point in the timeline this is, though.

KANAYA

Note one: The clouds still show scenes from the game. So at this point in time, the game is still viable - but likely won’t be for long.

Note two: Kanaya obviously still has access to the SBURB walkthrough (since that exists outside of specific timelines), but it’s more evidence at this point that the game just isn’t working the way it’s meant to.

So, in all honesty, the only way that I can assume all of this is happening without completely imploding in on itself is because the Reader is changing the fabric of the story rather than of the timeline.

This is the core Homestuck story that we’re seeing change. It’s the one we’ve followed in the comic for ten odd years - and every change the Reader is doing, I assume, is only viable because they’re basically going back and editing things. 

It’s like having a book open and just crossing out a chapter, writing over the top, and then reading ahead. You’ve changed the past, the plot points that were meant to happen and make sense of things in the future, but you haven’t changed EVERYTHING. So, when you read the story, you have all the setup, your edits, and then the payoff for what SHOULD have happened. 

Kinda like Dirk’s Pony Pals. The real story is still there somewhere underneath his edits - but the way you read the story HAS to take his words into account. 

This is the only way I can think to explain why Prospit and Derse are still being Prototyped, and why we see what might be a canonical event (Jack using the Black Queen’s ring to attack Prospit and sever the moon with John still in it). 

The only OTHER thing I could imagine is that this timeline is a fractured version of the original one, but interweaves with it frequently - I guess either like a strand of DNA (with interwoven events forming the structures between the strands) or like a string (where both timelines are intrinsically wrapped around one another). 

This is a lot more flimsy, though, and I’m not sure how I’d explain it outright? But it might suggest why certain things are still happening.

If this flits over every now and then with the Homestuck timeline, then things like Prototypings would still happen. The main timeline would prototype, and then the Pesterquest timeline would feel the effects. Again, doesn’t work quite as well.

So basically the two conclusions I have are:

The MSPA Reader is turning the actual, canonical Homestuck timeline into the Pesterquest timeline, and essentially writing over everything we’ve seen in the main comic. By the end of it, there won’t BE a Homestuck timeline; there’ll just be Pesterquest. 

The MSPA Reader has caused a secondary timeline to form, which is entirely diffrent but not separate from the Homestuck timeline. Sort of like the Pesterquest timeline is a leech using the Homestuck timeline for canonical relevancy. 

[thewertsearch]

Asks Compilation 27/6

I’ve heard about this! They’re both games about building up your house, so they’re a natural fit. Do send those games along when I get to the point when you can!

It’s just like being a furry - sure, it seems weird, but many subcultures do. There’s not really anything wrong with weirdness, after all. 

They’re a street gang, and they’re led by Gamzee himself. Watch out, Markiplier. 

The whole thesis of the music video is a celebration of everyday miracles. 

Sure, it’s presented in a pretty bizarre way, but there is a good point there - life is full of things that, by rights, should never stop impressing us. 

Jade + AC = future Juggalos? 

Look. All I’m saying is: have you memorized Maxwell’s equations?

Jokes aside, I guess it’s pretty easy not to know how magnets work when you explicitly don’t listen to scientists...

I didn’t even know there was one, to be honest.

It’s not unrealistic to see these thirteen-year-olds from 2009 dropping slurs, but I try not to include them in the commentary. 

Bec is the invincible Super Dog, and he will help her complete the level. He’s even white! 

Blue-bloods scoff at the low-brow Daedric, and Red-bloods think anyone who uses original script is stuffy and boring.

Thanks!! I’m finding I’m enjoying this project more with every Act. There’s just so much to get into with this comic!

It occurs to me that the later you find this blog, the more of a backlog you have to catch up on. Which, depending on your perspective, can be another positive!

As for the ‘sona.. to be honest, it’s taken a lot of willpower not to pause the liveblog and make a full fanfiction for her Sburb adventures. 🤣 Guess I need all the Sburb lore to do that, though, and it’s fun to slowly develop her session as we slowly learn how sessions work. 

Aw, shucks. Honestly, I haven’t really done any sprite art in years, but when I was answering the Alchemy ask, I realized I just had to depict these items I was coming up with!

Btdubs, I used Aseprite for all the art, including the gifs. Highly recommend it. 

Oh, dang it, I didn’t even notice! Gotta amend the script a little, because that might cause some problems with interpreting the text down the line. 

He kind of is that, isn’t he? 

This was my full prediction for Gamzee’s personality, based solely on his username. The guy isn’t exactly a thrill-seeker, but he is a sopor addict with little concern for his health. Once again, these usernames really say a lot. 

Yeah, if you actually think about what’s happening in John’s case, you can make an argument that his entry was the most stressful of all. He was the first in, and understood his situation the least, while Rose and Dave at least had the benefit of knowing what an Entry was. 

I didn’t think to interpret John’s hesitation to bite the apple as a deer-in-headlights response, but, now that I think about it, that may have been exactly what was happening. 

No, but now I wish it was.

Sally official title CONFIRMED as Chef of Food. 

Since it’s not Terezi, I don’t think any of the trolls we’ve seen so far are Vriska - the vibes aren’t right. I think it’s one of the five trolls we haven’t heard from yet...

Dimple, eh? I hope he doesn’t start possessing people, like some other Dimples I know...

* Smells like SC4L3M4T3S. 

That’s one of my favorite Undertale quotes, and it’s only fitting that it be a Terezi reference. 

I actually don’t remember fighting that dude in Undertale, but yep, apparently it’s a Hotland spawn. The references never end!

Thank you! Had a ton of fun making those items. 

I’ll hopefully be making more of them, down the line - maybe next time my Kidsona will try to make meta-items incorporating the Alchemiter, Kernelsprites, etc? 

Act 5 has been a great demonstration of dramatic irony. We know all the trolls will end up in the same session, and we know the session is doomed - the only thing we don’t know is how we got to that point.

Why does this feel like something Terezi would actually do?

And yeah, the gradual reveal that all of Terezi’s bizarre behavior with the kids was her actual personality is one of the best and most understated bits in the comic so far. 

Terezi would fit really well in the Ace Attorney universe - either as one of the many unhinged human lawyers, or as a straight-up alien in a crossover game. 

I honestly feel like Terezi would make a really good lawyer irl, with the proper training. Her mannerisms wouldn’t be a problem if she had talent - and I think she has talent. 

Heh. To be honest, the Witch class has always been the one that sounds the coolest to me. Bard and Maid are in joint second place, but I just love the irony of a technically-minded Player getting a mystically-flavored class - just like Jade did, I suppose!

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 2)

FAILURE ARTIST: We don’t get much time to mourn with Dave because the comic flashes to a weird wizard statue. This statue is ZAZZERPAN THE LEARNED. Wizards are another recurring theme in Homestuck. Andrew Hussie once artfully defaced this cheesy book called Wizardology (warning: lots of really offensive humor). Anyway, Rose hates the giant statue and the other wizard paraphernalia her mother collects and believes her mother does this only to spite her. On a platform is a bronzed vacuum (with a place to put alcoholic beverages) that Rose gave her as an ironic present. On the couch there’s a life-sized princess doll that Rose has attached a Cthulhu-type head to. All these things set up Rose’s troubled relationship with her mother. Rose believes her mother is taunting her and Rose taunts her back.

BRIGHT: This scene also establishes that some things (the Cthulhu doll for one) are too big to be captchalogued.

CHEL: Actually, that was noted with the harlequin doll earlier but we forgot to mention that.

FAILURE ARTIST: Rose goes to the kitchen. On the fridge is a crude picture of her late cat Jaspers, who turns out to be more than a family pet. There’s more signs of this cold war between mother and daughter on the fridge.

CHEL: Also, numerous liquor bottles in the kitchen and comically exaggerated displays of wealth, such as a fifteen-thousand-dollar picture frame.

FAILURE ARTIST: After fussing with the fridge, Rose tries to leave the kitchen only to run into her mother. She tries escaping but lands comically in some wizard statuettes.

CHEL: Mom Lalonde is mopping the floor, with no water in the bucket, holding a martini in her other hand. The woman clearly has a problem. Again, this is an issue with the portrayal of the parents; this is pretty funny, but were a real mother behaving this way, it would seriously mess up the kid, and whether we’re supposed to take it as Rule of Funny or not later becomes inconsistent.

BRIGHT: I think a lot of the humour here is supposed to come from the implication that Mom Lalonde actually is a loving if clueless (and drunk) parent, and Rose is reading her badly. On the other hand, something is clearly very wrong, and while Mom Lalonde may indeed be loving the situation is definitely having an impact on Rose.

TIER: Say whatever you want, but when putting on the late game Cerebus Retcon goggles there are probably non-humorous questions to be asked about how screwy Mom Lalonde is as a parental unit if her daughter has ended up interpreting most of her actions as mocking or backhanded towards herself. Like, kids don't just decide that.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 3

CHEL: Back to Dave, he’s chatting with GG and they’re being adorable. GG comments about her birthday present to John, the green box we saw in the car earlier, and…

GG: no!!!!!!! GG: he will not open it GG: he will lose it!!! TG: oh TG: uh TG: wow sorry to hear that i guess? GG: no its good actually! GG: because he will find it again later when he really needs it GG: which of course is why i sent it in the first place! TG: see like TG: i never get how you know these things GG: i dont know GG: i just know that i know!

I think here is when we start to get inklings of the kids’ unusual abilities - I mean, unusual in the context of the weird world they live in. A bit more is established about GG’s home life and Dave’s attitudes, too:

GG: i have to feed bec which is always a bit of an undertaking TG: man TG: if i were you i would just take that fucking devilbeast out behind the woodshed and blow its head off GG: heheheh! GG: i dont think i could if i tried!!! TG: yeah TG: say hi to your grand dad for me too ok GG: ._. GG: yes i guess an encounter with him is almost certain GG: it is usually........ GG: intense!!! TG: well yeah isnt it always with family TG: but he sounds like a total badass

“Intense” in a world where attacking your father with a hammer isn’t worthy of comment sounds worrying. We’ll see how that goes.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave has the tiniest of smiles here and in Hussie’s annotation he says that one pixel created Dave/GG. Whether or not their connection is romantic, Dave obviously feels great affection for her.

CHEL: Interactions between all four of the kids are really sweet, honestly. Dialogue and character interactions are one of the strongest points of the comic overall. Personally I have a soft spot for the OT4.

TIER: In my unprofessional opinion, the beta humans are by far the most functioning and tight knit group of the various groups within the comic, for what that's worth considering the overall dysfunction junction. They're sweet to one another is what I'm saying.

CHEL: Dave talks to John, who mentions the creepy trails around his house and how he thinks he’s seen monsters, which we the audience have definitely seen; creepy little black imps with fangs and, oddly, jester outfits. They bear a striking resemblance to the Wayward Vagabond, in fact. Dave makes fun, but at least pretends not to disbelieve him, and urges him to keep his hammer at the ready. Dave can’t find his Bro, but can find “Lil Cal”, implying Bro is nearby.

TG: lil cal is the shit EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying. WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 5

Would a non-white rapping ventriloquist be any cooler? I’m struggling to see how. Ventriloquism, by definition, sucks the cool out of any other aspect of the thing. And now I’m picturing Carlton from Fresh Prince trying to rap with a ventriloquist’s doll.

BRIGHT: Back at the Lalonde residence, Rose attempts to ‘Youth Roll’ out of the front door, but her escape route is blocked by her mother, who appears with martini glass in hand. Time for our second Strife of the comic! (And can I say that I really like the music for this one?)

As with John’s strife with his dad, this strife tells us a lot about Rose’s relationship with her mother. John had the AGGRIEVE and ABJURE options; Rose also gets AGGRESS (PASSIVE) and ABSTAIN. It’s pretty telling that one of these options is an EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT, and ‘Abstain’ has Rose fending off her mother’s insistent offer of the martini glass.

FAILURE ARTIST: I liked the EMPTY SUICIDE THREAT at the time but now I think it deserves an ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?

BRIGHT: Mom Lalonde may be intended as loving-but-clueless, but she’s offering her thirteen year old daughter alcohol, over Rose’s protests, and something is clearly very wrong if suicide threats are a normal part of life. (Something similar will come up in the future, but in that context it isn’t played for laughs.)

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 4

On a lighter note, ‘Abjure’ has her mother offering her A BEAUTIFUL PONY. Rose reacts in the moment like this is terrible, but does later pat the pony’s nose.

At any rate, the strife ends when Mom Lalonde apparently gets bored and decides to do some dusting. This takes all the fun out of using the front door, so Rose goes around the back to make her break for the generator.

Meanwhile, John is trying to read up on weaponizing sylladexes (sylladices?), but is being nagged by a voice to turn around — which he finally does, just in time for a monster to ram into him so hard it turns the panel pixelated. Strife time!

John’s bout with the Shale Imp kicks off with the monster threatening the Con Air bunny. John’s efforts to defend it are intercut with Rose’s progress out of the house and through the rain to the mausoleum. I think this interplay works quite nicely — it keeps both things moving without letting the reader get impatient -- but your mileage may vary.

The imp aggravates John by punching the bunny in the belly and waving it at him. John attacks the imp and breaks his hammer, then attacks it with the handle and gets knocked flat. Finally he weaponises his sylladex and chucks his inventory at it until it explodes into a shower of grist.

PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX!!!!!! Now why couldn’t he put the bunny back in the box?

Because he’d set it as his strifekind, it turns out.

In true video game style, defeating the imp causes John to level up! In Homestuck, this is done by ascending one’s echeladder, a series of player levels with whimsical, old-fashioned names. John climbs two rungs, from Greentike to Plucky Tot, and earns 125 Boondollars.

Note how efficient this is: In one panel we can see that the echeladder is a levelling system, that Boondollars are in-Game currency, and that levelling up has increased John’s amount of grist and how much of it he can carry. He’s also got a new kind of grist called ‘Shale’. Hussie does take an extra panel to clarify the grist capacity expansion, but that makes sense as it’s a small part of the original panel. Compare this to the dozens of panels we’ve had laying out how sylladexes work. These panels are much more information-dense, and the comic flows better for it.

CHEL: Exactly what “grist” is and what it does beyond allowing changes to the house, why those changes are needed, and what “boondollars” are for hasn’t been explained yet, but will be soon, and it’s clear they’re something to do with the game so it’s not outright confusing.

BRIGHT: John spends the next few panels sorting his strife specibus out, and stashes the bunny in there for safekeeping. There’s something amiss, but he can’t quite put his finger on it...

Meanwhile, Rose has reached the mausoleum and prepares to activate the generator. The taxidermied corpse of her beloved pet lies in state, dressed in a tiny suit. A sad fate for an animal who should have peacefully decomposed in a flowerbed. Rose kicks it off the pedestal to make room for the laptop.

John discovers what’s wrong when a bucket of water perched atop his door lands on his head. The culprit behind this sudden dousing?

"[S] WHAT THIS IS SO OUTRAGEOUS (HD)" (Watch on YouTube)

Apparently the sprite has a sense of humour.

Next up is a pesterlog between Rose and Dave. There are hints that all is not well in the Strider residence.

TG: hey TG: dont tell john this but i think he might have been right about the puppets TG: theyre sort of starting to freak me out a little TT: You're referring to your brother's collection? TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever TG: or semi-semi ironic TG: man i dont even know TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up TT: I've seen his websites. TT: I like them. TG: haha yeah well YOU WOULD TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that TG: with those dead eyes jesus TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out

Well, not so much hints as flashing neon signs. Dave’s gone very quickly from insisting that everything his brother does is cool and Lil Cal is awesome, to admitting that he has nightmares about Lil Cal and is freaked out by his brother’s ‘semi-ironic puppet thing’. We don’t know much about Bro’s websites yet, but we do know that Rose has a morbid streak, and Dave is clearly disturbed by the content.

Dave leaves to find his brother’s copy of the game, and we return to John, who, to quote Rose, has ‘just had a bucket of water dumped on his head by the ghost of his dead grandmother, who also happens to be dressed like a clown.’

And yes, that is indeed John’s dead Nanna, returned to help him on his journey through The Medium and beyond -- or at least, she claims she is. John has to take her word for it, as he doesn’t remember her at all. According to his Dad, John was pretty young when she died. Speaking of his Dad, he’s been kidnapped by the forces invading John’s home.

Nannasprite gives John the background of the game and what’s going on. His house is now in the Medium. This place was created by the game software, but is physically independent of it -- and no, he’s not inside a computer. The Medium floats in the Incipisphere, a place outside the normal flow of time in the kids’ universe. Above the Medium is the realm of Skaia.

According to Nannasprite:

Legend holds that Skaia exists as a dormant crucible of unlimited creative potential. What does this mean, you ask? I'm afraid my lips are sealed about that, dear! Hoo hoo!

Nannasprite is somewhat like a tutorial assistant for the game -- she helps guide John and provides information, although she’s somewhat cryptic.

We are getting a lot of new words here, but Hussie is defining them pretty well as we go, so I don’t think it merits a point.

At any rate, Skaia is defended by the forces of light, while forces of darkness plot its destruction. These two forces exist in an endless stalemate on a stage at the centre of Skaia until a player with a prototyped Kernelsprite enters the Medium. Then the prototyped Kernelsprite splits, with one Kernel carrying the prototyping information up to a kingdom basked in light, and another Kernel carrying it down to the kingdom of darkness. Each kingdom has four Spires, and when the Kernel reaches one, it propagates the prototyping information to the kingdom’s forces.

This is why the imps were dressed as jesters: John prototyped his Kernel with the harlequin doll, and whatever the other players prototype with will influence what forms the soldiers take. When the first Kernels reach the spires, the battlefield gets bigger and the war begins for real.

Oh, right -- and the forces of light are always destined to lose.

So what’s the point? Apparently, that’s for John to find out. For now, though, he needs to head towards Skaia, going through the first of seven Gates. The first Gate is situated directly above John’s house, but the others are going to be harder to reach. We now find out what all that Build Grist is for: To get to the Gate, they need to build the house higher to reach it. And then they can rescue John’s Dad, solve the ultimate riddle, and save the Earth from destruction!

...or not.

Nope, according to Nannasprite, Earth is doomed. Done for. Kaput. There is nothing they can do to save it.

John is pretty bummed about this. He isn’t cheered by Nanna’s assurance that he has a much more important purpose than saving the planet, although she fails to elaborate on that point and instead floats off to make cookies.

CHEL: I think here we earn another couple of points.

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 2 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 11 Failing the Turing Test - wherein the character has no reactions whatsoever While the emotional lives of characters should not be described in their every tiny wrinkle, characters must have emotional lives. When someone boos them off a stage, they should experience chagrin. When they fall from a tenth-storey window, they should feel alarm. The writer should not count on dialogue like “Yikes!” to get the point across.

Brief confusion and feeling “bummed out” by the news that one’s entire planet is doomed does not count as an adequate reaction. I’d expect more fear, more concern. As pointed out before, doesn’t John have any friends other than Dave, Rose, and GG? His Dad has friends, wouldn’t he be concerned for them on Dad’s behalf? If nothing else, more curiosity about this “more important” business?

BRIGHT: Now, I could actually buy this in some circumstances — John is a teenager, doesn’t seem to have close connections outside those we see on screen, and he’s been having one hell of a weird day. I wouldn’t be surprised if grasping the scope of destruction was simply beyond him at this point. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s only been a few hours since life went to hell in a handbasket — not to mention, he’s in an active combat zone. There’s a lot going on, and if he was to shove it out of his mind while he dealt with the immediate crisis, I could see that as pretty realistic.

Of course, that would depend on him actually reacting at some later point, when he had a chance to slow down and it could sink in. As it stands...well, if that does happen, we never see it.

CHEL: Does this also count as “Oh, Don’t Mind Him” for the How Not To score?

BRIGHT: I think so, yes.

CHEL: Then here it goes!

HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 12 Oh, Don’t Mind Him - where a character’s problems remain unexplored In real life, people are riddled with chronic problems that are not addressed for long periods of time, if ever. But in fiction, all problems are just the opening chords of a song. If there is a brother who has a problem with alcohol, a child who has lost her dog, or even someone whose car has simply broken down, the reader will worry about those people and expect the author to do something about it.

Technically, this could count for seven billion or so points, minus any people who successfully entered their own game sessions, but we don’t want to get out of hand here and it really only counts as one big problem.

However! I am very fond of this idea in theory. The obvious option would be that the purpose of the game is to save the player’s homeworld. We’ve all seen the “save the homeworld” idea in scifi and fantasy before. Here, the homeworld is beyond saving, but there is another option, and exploring that is the storyline. The forces of light cannot have a traditional victory; the protagonists must find a victory on the terms they have. It’s not a theme one sees often, and I like it.

FAILURE ARTIST: John and the other Beta Kids’ lack of angst of the destruction of their planet doesn’t stick out as much here as it will later when almost everything else is milked for angst.

CHEL: I’m not really sure the planet being destroyed is a great basis for a Rule-of-Funny-based story if that was what he was going for, to be honest. “Billions died, lol!”

[ask-missfinefeather]

Because the original post had spoilers in the usernames heres a censored version

[redacted] i had a really fucking weird dream where homestuck was a musical. like. a Broadway musical. and i went to see it and all i really remember is that 1) the opening number was called “everybody dies” and 2) bro strider was inexplicably played by shia labeouf, who did an interpretive dance scene with a smuppet that lasted roughly seven minutes. it was uncomfortable for everyone involved mortharris what do you mean “inexplicably” that’s exactly how it would go down [redacted] I’m pretty sure snoop dogg was aimless renegade? honestly it was an experience like the stage was essentially four room in the beginning and every time John would get a notification on pesterChum the particular room of whoever was messaging him would light up and you could see Jade Dave or Rose. when the trolls did their thing (it was early on), you could just hear the disembodied yelling of Karkat. Rose had a dramatic monologue that ended with mom physically pulling her away from her empty suicide threat. bec was just some guy in a fursuit. shia laBro passionately ripped off his shirt before kicking dave’s ass. lil cal was played by Ellen Degeneres(?) mortharris do you have a medium to talk to because the more you talk about this dream the more it sounds like you’re spirit channeling andrew hussie and i’m concerned [redacted] don’t get me started about the medium bro also when the trolls were introduced the lusii were these freakish jim henson monstrosities but honestly the best part was the felt. like. the actual composition of music was beautiful, and the choreography for the dance numbers was sublime. Dave also kept trying to sing but was continually interrupted by Bro Shia, terezi’s echoing ululations, and his own self doubt. once he finally had his moment his voice soared through the theater, only to come to an abrupt end as he was drowned in hot puppet ass. now that I think about it, dadbert was definitely nic cage, which was confusing as fuck because John kept talking about how Greatly He Was Caged By Nic while his father stood by. it was uncomfortable idk man, it’s been like a reoccurring lucid nightmare for the past week, but the sb&hj sequences were performed by acrobats above the actual stage, who looked dangerously inebriated and probably needed immediate hospitalization (they were also narrated by dave and a bunch of dissonant recordings of the cast? what the fuck man. what a visionary) mortharris i honestly don’t know what to focus on here because i’m wheezing and snorting right now but Dave also kept trying to sing but was continually interrupted by Bro Shia, terezi’s echoing ululations, and his own self doubt. was dave … was dave’s self doubt an actual part in the play [redacted] shIT I thought I answered earlier but apparently not. yes, daves self conscious is just a shitty cardboard cutout of zac efron wearing sunglasses who offers sage advice like “no one loves you”. he’s voiced by zac efron. yknow I forgot to note this but vriska has a lot of really aggressive musical numbers that make everyone visibly uncomfortable, mainly bc they’re unprovoked and don’t. make sense. like its canon but only to an extent. also I’m p sure that mom and dad /almost/ share a heartfelt duet–like there’s soft piano music and they look into each other’s eyes–but then Jack noir, fursuit edition, kills them. on that note, when rose goes grimdark it sounds like the Dresden dolls met born this way era lady gaga and then murdered each other while a thirteen year old descends from the rafters, hissing like a motherfucking snake on a plane btw “sICK FIRES” is a rap off with cello featuring the talents of yo yo ma himself mortharris “#i’m tired” “#why do you keep reblogging this” because it’s amazing [redacted] that’s objective but I’m just happy that people are enjoying this. like the tags are so nice and it feels pretty rad to know people are laughing at my hideous reoccurring nightmare musical extravaganza FYI there is a track called “flight of the bifurcated asshole/rest in peixes” and y'all know EXACTLY what it’s about krakendra can…. we kickstart this? tanoraqui this is EXACTLY what a homestuck musical should be like, though. The casting and music choices and how the set works with Pesterchum, it’s all…really good. Your subconscious mind translates the comic to Broadway really well. wikis-cosplay So I am imagining the rooms that light up are in the form of a sburb logo and when the trolls would talk that little box in the corner of the upper right square lights up and shows a silhouette of the troll talking till the trolls are revealed. When they are revealed Karkat just kicks off the cover and stick his head out to call John an idiot. mortharris IMPROVED [redacted] yes this is perfect, how did I Not See This Earlier karkat’s “my hate is your lifeblood” speech is accompanied by steady percussion and what almost sounds like some good ass army battle shit, and then John is just “hi karkat!” karkat blinks and has a solid five seconds of self loathing before breaking into song about john egbert ruining his moment. it’s also a dance number and karkat dramatically collapses into the arms of troll will smith, played by will smith, about three consecutive times. (briefly we get to see daves self doubt taunting him but Why?? who Knows??) mortharris i feel like i’m one of the king’s men watching william shakespeare [redacted] so…you’re sexually confused while wearing tights? which, by the way, is equius before getting murdered mortharris i meant in the presence of greatness, but i’m not wearing tights. also i hate you. also i love you. [redacted] it’s okay. I hate me, too, but not as much as karkat hates karkat candymuse @alkalinesnowflake god the audience would probably have to return to the theatre for like 5 consecutive nights to finish the show

By biggestCuttlefish!

[shoyoist]

babe I hate to bring discourse to your page but fr just had to share the fuckery I saw today it pains my soul <//3 I really saw someone in the comments section say “it’s weird people over 16 like Mikey he’s literally 15 and a minor” as if multiple timeskip versions of him don’t exist I hate it here why are people literally stupid 😭😭

please lmao. was it like, tiktok or twt?? bec those places are full of those kinda people - they're all thirteen y/os or something too and i am so fed up with them 💀💀 i never say anything or involve myself with arguments tho bec it's just useless. anyway mikey and other canonically adult/timeskip characters aside, i think if a character is aged up in a fic, whether they have a canon timeskip or not, they should be considered an adult. for only the fic at least. ppl really be like "omg xxx character is xxx you cant like them gIVE THEM A BREAK THEY HATE YOU" and expect others to take em seriously.

and dw anon i totally get you 😭 sometimes shit's so stupid you gotta talk abt it with someone.

[setmysoulonfire]

jealous

A/N: Shoutout @likeofsillythings for this prompt!! I’m not sure if you meant it as a one-shot or part of my multichap but I wrote it as a one-shot. Also so sorry, it’s literally nearly 1am but instead of being a reasonable person and waiting until I have time to write it, I decided to do it now. I have no concept of personal limits. If these words do not make sense together, please do not hold it against me. I probably should have not done this right now.

Story: While sharing an apartment, Beca unknowingly goes on a date with a girl and realizes she likes it. Chloe gets jealous.

When closing her eyes proved not to also shut off her ears, Beca groaned, threw herself back on the bed, and held a pillow over her head to block out the sound. When she took it off and came back for air, Amy was even closer.

“Dude,” Beca warned with raised eyebrows. “You are invading my bubble so hard right now.”

“Come on, Becaboo, what’s his name? You know you wanna tell your best friend.” Amy bargained, wrapping her arms around Beca’s whole body. “Let me guess. A Brad? A Channing? I once dated a Channing,” she mused, seemingly lost in the memory and now less interested in Beca’s personal details. Yet her grip on her remained strong and in tact. “Handsome fella, into some real kinky shit. I ate chicken fried rice off his abs. Had to break it off though, felt bad for him. Last I heard he got with some dancing chick.”

“Are you talking about Channing Tatum?”

“Ohhhh yeah, yeah. I do think his name was something like that, wasn’t it?”

Beca bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It wasn’t even a date, Amy.”

“What wasn’t a date?”

“Beca’s date,” came from Amy, while Beca insisted, “Nothing!” as they both turned towards the door. Chloe put her bag down on the floor, humming as she sat on the edge of the bed. She raised her eyebrows and offered a mischievous smile to the both of them.

“What’s his name?” Chloe asked.

Beca turned to face down towards the pillow and buried her head, making sure her groan was loud and appreciated. Chloe looked at Amy for an explanation, who pursed her lips and held up her hands as in, “don’t ask me.” Chloe watched with a confused expression as Amy got up and went to the other side of the apartment, clearly ending her part in the conversation, mumbling about still having Channing’s number somewhere.

Chloe scooted up on the bed and gently shook Beca’s leg.

“Becs? Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Beca popped the “p” quickly and into her pillow. If she had looked up, she’d have seen Chloe’s confused smile turn into a genuine one as she squeezed the side of Beca’s hip and made Beca squeal and twitch from her tickle spot.

“Chlo!”

“You left me no choice! I had to!”

“I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry,” Chloe said with a smile too big to really be sorry. “How come you’re being shy?”

“I’m not!” At Chloe’s straightened eyebrows and frown, Beca already knew she was going to give in and tell her about it. She sighed and sat up, scooting her back against the pillows. Chloe made herself comfortable next to her. “Nothing. It was just, like... weird.”

“In a bad way?”

“No?”

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Telling? I think?” Beca scrunched her nose as if she was already regretting the words coming from her mouth. “I don’t know, Chlo. It was weird. I didn’t know it was a date. I thought I was meeting a potential client for the firm but when I got there, she didn’t want to talk about music at all.”

“She?”

“Yeah,” Beca’s voice quieted. She hoped Chloe would have breezed over that part.

“Oh,” Chloe managed to squeak. “I didn’t know you, uh, were like into that?”

“Me either.” Beca played with the bracelets around her wrist in order to avoid looking at Chloe’s face. “But she planned a bunch of these cool things to do and it was awesome and I weirdly really liked it? Then at the end, she kissed me. Just like a stupid peck but like, I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Chloe insisted. “But what?”

“It IS weird.”

“Beca.” Chloe’s stern voice made Beca look up for the first time. Chloe’s eyes were a lot of things in that moment: kind, loving, interested, concerned, and yet as far as Beca searched in them, she saw no judgement. It kind of made her want to cry. But mostly, it made her brave.

“I felt more during this two second kiss with a near stranger than I’ve felt before having actual sex with a man. So I don’t really know what that... means. Like about me.”

“Ohhhh,” Chloe’s voice was soft as she pulled Beca into a one-armed hug. She ignored Beca’s protests and held her close to her as she rubbed up and down along her arm. “It just means you’re Beca. Same as always.”

Later that night, when Beca had so thankfully buried that conversation deep in the trenches of never-to-be-brought-up-again, she wondered why she couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was her job slowly draining the lifeforce and creativity out of her. Or maybe it was the thirteen missed calls from her father over the past month that she had yet to return.

“Becs?” Chloe’s whisper was perfectly Chloe: full of happiness and hope. Somehow even her name, Beca thought, had hope in it when Chloe said it.

“Yeah, I’m awake.”

She already knew when Chloe turned around to face her in bed, she’d have a giant smile on her face at being answered. She didn’t disappoint. Beca rolled her eyes, but it was a roll with love.

“What’s her name?” asked Chloe.

“Huh?”

“The girl you went on a date with.”

“It wasn’t a-- whatever. Why does it even matter?”

“I just want to know,” Chloe shrugged with the shoulder not against the bed. “How’d you meet her?”

“Oh, yay. We get to play my favorite game now?”

“This isn’t twenty questions,” corrected Chloe with a frown. “I’m just asking.”

Beca rolled her eyes again, this time excessively, and rolled over. Chloe put one hand on Beca’s shoulder and rolled her back.

“How come you don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s not that.” Beca pursed her lips and thought about it, then looked at her questioningly. “How come you want to know so bad? You’re acting like... like...”

“Like what?” she challenged her.

Beca’s smirk dripped with satisfaction at having something over Chloe for once. She pressed her mouth together to stop her smile from getting too wide.

“Like what, Beca?!”

“Shhh, you’re going to wake her,” Beca motioned towards the direction of Amy.

“You’re being totes difficult on purpose.”

“I am not,” Beca said smugly. “You’re being jealous.”

Chloe’s mouth dropped open in genuine shock. It’s not that the idea was foreign to her, but Beca actually calling her on it, and saying it out loud. It actually turned her on a little. A tiny smile crept at the corners of her mouth as she looked at Beca in the dark, so proud and self-satisfied. She couldn’t help but watch her lips.

She pressed one hand against Beca’s cheek as she leaned in, and kissed her. Slowly, painstakingly, teasingly soft. It was somehow exactly how she imagined kissing Beca would be like and nothing like she expected all at once.

“No, because if I was jealous,” Chloe whispered through her smile, still centimeters from Beca’s face, still one hand resting on her cheek. “I’d do something like that. To show you what’s right in front of you.”