#newtonverse

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Omg - the idea of Anthony begrudgingly enabling Kate's dogmom shenanigans is priceless 🤣

This is incredibly sweet and funny! Read it to put a smile on your face 😊

One more little bitty one. This is just Anthony and Benedict silliness.

Fig Newton

"You want me to paint..the dog? Dressed like that?" Benedict asked incredulously. "Why is he dressed in a frock with fruits and leaves on it anyway, Brother?" 

Anthony sighed. 

"Hyacinth cast him in one of her plays. She needed Mother Nature and Gregory refused." "Good on Greg. That dress wouldn't even cover his bits",Ben said trying, and failing, to hold back his laughter. 

"Do not be crude, Benedict,will you take the commission or not? I will compensate you handsomely for it."

 "Of course I'll do it, Brother. He's not the prettiest model I've had and I'm quite certain he won't cooperate but I'll make it work. Especially since it's for Kate."

"You should have seen her face when she saw him. She was ecstatic." Anthony's face softened into a lovesick swoon as it always did when he spoke of his Viscountess. "I want to give her that to look at everyday."

"And what about you, Brother? Did you tear up at seeing your firstborn furchild in his very first starring role"? Benedict could barely breathe for laughing. Anthony clapped him round the back of the head before stomping off.

"Idiot",he muttered.

"Brother, Anthony, please call for a maid. Newton has eaten all of the figs off of his dress and the portrait won't be complete without them."

As Benedict slid down the wall with laughter at his own joke, a barrage of figs descended upon him. 

[thewertsearch]

Hey, I picked Cassie for Rose’s name, so I’m all for Cass!

We have so much lore for the Newtonverse at this point that I’m worried we’re manifesting it into existence. What if I wake up one morning and my copy of Homestuck Collection has been Newtonized?

Chad Buskin is a hungry god, and he eats well on this blog.

[carlisle980]

Once upon a time I was a writer. Man, how times have changed. I blame this on summer roadtrip playlists and all the Bangtan fic I’ve been devouring over the last year and a half. We’re about to find out what it looks like when I post fic and don’t care about the consequences, or. Something. New leaves, turning over.

Excerpt

He’s here for whichever Isobel shows up on any given day, at any moment. This particular version, soft and vulnerable, does a number on his self-control, the compulsion to wrap her up and secret her away a strong one. It’s neither what she wants nor likely will allow, but there are certain overtures she’s never been able to refuse.

[espoirmerveilleux]

Excerpt:

"Oi!" he says, and it's too loud even to his own ears, and he doesn't flinch when she claps a hand over his mouth. "Oi." A whisper this time, cupping his hand around her ear. "What's sauce for the goose …"

She laughs full and joyous without being too loud, squeezing his hand even as she shakes her head at him. "Oh, no. Doesn't work like that." She's whispering again, her lips ghosting against the shell of his ear, breath warm and wet and he shivers at the contrast of her heat against the chill evening air.

"No?" he comes back. "And why not?"

This time she leans in further, until their lips are almost touching. "Because you're drunk," she whispers, a flick of her tongue at the close of her statement. It misses his mouth and he chases after it. "No," she tells him in response, but she arches into him as his lips touch gently below her ear.

"Oh, and you're not?" He raises an eyebrow.

She laughs again, effusive and musical, and he loves her like this. The way a little alcohol makes her silly. She shakes her head where it lies on the edge of the headrest. "I'm squiffy. You're shit-faced. There's a difference."

He rolls his eyes. "Semantics."

She gets an indignant look. "It's not, and you know it!" She's whisper-shouting now and he can smell the Malbec on her breath. It's more a taste than a smell, really, and he aches to kiss it right out of her mouth.

He chuckles. She's not wrong, but his head is too muzzy to engage her in hair-splitting. He fires one parting shot. "You started it."

[thewertsearch2]

This blog is thewertsearch from the newtonverse. theasdfsearch.

That damn Kelly. Can't believe she stole my bit.

I haven't met thezxcvsearch yet, but I fear what she may be capable of.

[thewertsearch]

The square head beta thing comes from spoof panels based on actual panels made by fanartists/comic creators Cole/swift-kick, Chase/Radical Dude 42, and Toreodere. I've seen claims that Hussie actually did try out square heads before immediately scrapping them, but this might be more trolling; I've never seen evidence. The og thread is here, but the screener should pick out the images from it that aren't spoilers, as some are. twitter com/SK_intheballs/status/1253412042318286848

[ They are Newtonverse canon, right? ;] - Cat ]

These are amazing. Literally everyone in these screencaps looks like they're voiced by Patrick Warburton. This is the Newtonverse.

[thewertsearch]

Got a multi-parter that came in, which Cat has kindly formatted for me:

Anonymous asked: On the subject of name suggestions, while most of the Mspa Forums is lost to time, we do have web archives of when the kids were first named. Though these threads are in the past from where you are, they were archived later, so I can't directly link to them because of spoilery forum user icons. So I've transcribed the relevant bits, which I'll send in a few separate asks, because I think it's pretty interesting and fun. 

Andrew: First one to suggest "Retrieve arms from drawer" wins the game. Everyone else to suggest it as a joke thereafter is bannished forever.

Unidan: >Retrieve arms from drawer 

Andrew: You win! The game is over. I wonder what's next???????

Cuttlefish: Name: John Egbert

Stephen: Name: Clint Newton

Andrew (replying to Cuttlefish): I may just go with that. I was /strongly/ leaning toward picking the very first suggestion.

Xaladar: Name: Sly McGlassesface

fsanders: Name: Norbert

Stephen (replying to Andrew): Damn. If only I'd been a bit quicker... But seriously, Clint Newton is the best action-hero-geek name ever.

Andrew: Anyway, /now/ I'm going to sleep. [note: suggestion box was opened at 3:29am, this message was at 3:44] I fully expect there to be thousands of great names I won't use when I wake up!

Stephen (replying to Andrew): Heh. I can tell this is off to a great start already! 

Ooh, I’m loving this peek behind the curtain.

Interesting that Unidan never actually suggested a name, despite winning the right to do so through memes. Although, we were once again robbed the majesty of Clint Newton. That’s definitely John from the Chad Buskin AU.

[wickedsick]

From thewertsearch's newtonverse tag:

what were the fake homestuck prototypes?

i forget what it was called and my memory is very fuzzy but iirc the kgtac guy made some fake tweets like "omg remember these old panels hussie made before homestuck started where he was testing out the style" and dave had a square head instead of a round one. there was one with rose too but idr what she looked like. if anyone can find it please link it 🙏

[thewertsearch]

Froot Loop Homestuck AU is the amazing content we never knew we needed. ~DJ

Clint Newton's favorite food! Gotta love that guy, and his adventures with Chad Buskin in Schlub are great to read.

[carlisle980]

I don’t know why it’s happening or how long it’ll last, but I’m writing some Richard and Isobel all of a sudden. I blame the wonderful Jihope thing I’m in the middle of reading for the burst of inspiration.

And because I’m that bitch, I’m gonna tease.

(Here goes nothing ... pardon me while I vanish back beneath the rock from whence I came.)

Hot off the press:

She contents herself with his mouth: the taste of his breath and the curl of his tongue; he gives up the most delightful little exclamations —half a gasp, half a moan— when she nips at his lips. But soon she is tugging at his collar, pulling his shirttails free from the waistband of his trousers and yanking at the cuffs of his sleeves. It’s on the tip of his tongue to remark about her eagerness —get her blood up a little—, but when she pushes his vest up to his ribs, when warm palms skim along the vee where his abdominal muscles meet his hips, the cheek is swiftly and decisively silenced.

She swallows his sounds, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing between kisses. “Richard.” She sits up, pushing at his chest until he follows, the hem of his vest bunched in her fists. “Need to feel you.”

He grunts and it’s primal; he’d be mortified under any other circumstances but for now he sheds his shirt, unbuckles his belt, opens his flies. He can feel the heat of her eyes on him, doesn’t need to look at her to know, but oh!, when he does.

He watches her drink him in as he toes off his shoes —thank fuck for late spring and boat shoes because there is absolutely nothing sexy about socks, nor the shedding thereof in the heat of the moment. But as it is he kicks his shoes away and drops his trousers, stepping out of them with just enough bravado and swagger to leave her gaping. He has no idea what comes over him, but, spurred on by her response, he traces his palms over his abdominal muscles as he raises the hem of his vest, pulling it over his head and tossing it away.

She gasps, then giggles a little. “Are you mad? What’s got into you?” But when, not a moment later, he’s caught her about the waist and is lifting her dress overhead, she shivers in his arms. She’s had him in the palm of her hand all afternoon, but two can play at this game.

Her bra follows directly, and he is always so careful about these things: asking, and then asking again, whether she’s ready; peeling her out of her underthings with tenderness and reverence. But not today. He uses his proximity to propel her backwards again, her calves hitting the chaise, and she half-sits, half-falls down as he stalks towards her. He’s been hard, aching with it for hours now, and he palms himself over his shorts as much for his own benefit as hers.

“I was rather thinking I’d like to get into you,” he snarls, inserting himself into her space, chasing her down to lie against the throw pillows. And yes, it’s trite, and it’s got them both laughing because he doesn’t do this, but they’re tussling and kissing and good-naturedly battling for dominance and it’s everything: warmth and skin and sweetness, heat arcing between them as she pins him beneath her, pressed hip to hip. The joyous little cry of victory she gives; the smile that starts in her eyes and lights up her face. Love. This love of theirs that radiates from her every pore, that leaves him longing to gather her to him and shag her senseless in equal measure.

“Ah, fuck,” he declares, arms dropping to the cushion under him in surrender. The heat of her, damp through her knickers and his shorts, relentless as her hips begin to work against him in hypnotic little circles. He doubts she even knows she’s doing it, lost as she is in her appraisal of him. Strong, delicate fingers trail over his chest, tracing circles around a nipple. She hums in the back of her throat, knows that she’s driving him to the brink of madness.

“You are lovely,” he rumbles. His hands ghost against her hips as he rocks his pelvis against hers, desperate to hold her, contain her, and at the same time, let her fly. She throws her head back at the contact and now her torso is one continuous, graceful arch. The warm weight of her breasts fills his palms and he wants this image etched onto the backs of his eyelids, memorialised for all of time. He strokes her nipples, grinning at the way she writhes above him and murmuring filth in her ear. (“Oughtta put my mouth right there, reckon you can take it? Make you come just like that, so fucking pretty.”)

He’s wicked, and she’s weak for it. Entirely at his mercy. She’s given up fighting it; there are worse fates by far. She collapses against him, bare breasts to bare chest and even if they find themselves in this position a thousand times it will always feel like the first time to her. She breathes it in: the moment; the ache deep within crying out to be assuaged, and the conflict; yearning to remain exactly as they are now. And therein lies her rejoinder, and she curls close, the tip of her tongue tracing the shell of his ear. “Not if I get to you first.”

He pushes at her shoulders till she levers up, arching a brow at her. “Well, well,” he breathes, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Game, set, and match to Dr. Crawley. I dare say, very well played, love.”

She grins and it’s blinding. Thrilled with herself; thrilled with him. Grateful beyond measure for this evening, this life. This man; this love. “That’s Mrs. Clarkson to you.”

“Damn right,” he grunts, kissing her, and she giggles against his lips.

“Oh, do shut up,” she whispers, punctuating it with a kiss, “and let me put my money where my mouth is.” They’re absurd and giddy, breathless with laughter, and he thinks tipsy Isobel just might be his favourite.

“Sod the money. Just give me that wonderful proliferative mouth of yours, eh?”

[thewertsearch]

Asks Compilation 11/12

I never considered that Aradia could be feeling sincere gratitude towards Equius - that's a good point, and might partially explain her flushed feelings for him. Similarly, I never thought about how difficult and impractical a relationship would be for Equius, given he has this kind of strength paired with this kind of dexterity.

Anyway, I half-agree with your thesis. I can imagine a hypothetical kismesissitude between an older, more mature Equius and Aradia, and I think that relationship could potentially be healthy, for the reasons you describe.

But the one we're getting is doomed from the start - Equius's mind-control shenanigans have pretty much torpedoed the whole thing. I don't think he can have a healthy relationship until he figures out why that was wrong.

I'll give you a freebie right now - most of the Jojo villains would fit right in with the Felt!

Yeah, it's not like romantic rivalry is a new idea. Really, the more I think about it, the more I think Hussie's riffing on real relationship tropes with all the quadrants.

Hell, I could probably list some fictional characters that work pretty well as Moirails - and I'm not just talking about The Locked Tomb!

[ sent when you posted your troll ranking! - C ]

She's the best, she's the worst, and she's destined for great terrible things.

Sorry Eridan - someone had to nab last place!

He does have a great design. The cape and scarf work well together - I can see how he'd be easy and fun to cosplay.

We have two opposing views here, and they both make good arguments. Aristocrats do tend to be egotistical by nature - but Alternia would expect him to act that way, even if it wasn't his natural tendency.

I personally don't think Eridan ever intended to exterminate the land-dwellers, but I'm not sure he ever realized that himself.

Don't forget Insane Clown Hussie, which is when your webcomic author keeps putting more harlequins in their story.

Toby, what are you doing back in my ask box? Get outta here, you scamp!

Ayy!

It's funny, I never considered that many people are reading through the liveblog/chrono/ tag. I'm almost never on my blog's page; I see it through the dashboard!

Happy belated birthdays, Jade, Dave, and, Rose!

Odd. It really looks like John's birthday should be December 2nd. Maybe something went wrong with his meteor.

The Newtonverse is a corruption of Homestuck, but Homestuck is already a parody of a million other things. It's one layer too deep, and feels 'wrong' as a result.

Unless Cool and New Webcomic is a similar style of parody, in which case, who knows? Maybe the Newtonverse is simply real, and trying to break into our reality.

Yeah, that makes sense. She certainly looks like a classic eldritch monster.

I can't see the commentary - I assume because some of it contains spoilers. For comments that don't spoil anything, feel free to send them along.

It's always very tempting to check out other livebloggers so I can compare and contrast. I won't, though - quite aside from any worries about spoilers, I just don't want to influence my own opinions!

This has always been a blind spot with me, and it always will be. Try as I might, I will never recognize the difference between Rouge and Rouge.

I knew the comic had about 8000 pages, but it's good to know it clocks in at 8128.

It annoys me more than it should that it's not 2^13, or 8192. It would have been a nice round number to finish on!

Thank you, and welcome!

Eridan's beliefs don't really make sense - but it makes sense that they don't. It's bigotry, after all.

He knows trolls like Kanaya, and can clearly see that there's nothing inferior about her - but he can't let go of what he's been taught, so he just doesn't address it, and continues on as normal.

This comic is damn long, so it's a fun reference to make.

I'd probably pick one. No special reason - I just sort of vibe with the number, and it's the closest to something kooky like zero, or a negative number.

I would have picked the cueball, but I don't think I want Scratch as a rival...

Ok, that's fair, actually.

I love how she's trying to 'cull' them.

It's a good bit. I wonder if this means Hussie's trollsona is a green-blood, like Kanaya?

Read it!

It's not intended to! The others all link to the post where the work was recommended to me, but Con Air wasn't recommended - it's just a movie slightly relevant to Homestuck. I have it up there for completeness, and it's underlined for consistency.

[thewertsearch]

In some alleged early concept art of Dave and carcinoGeneticist, they both had square-ish heads. This is how I imagine they look in the universe where John was named Clint Newton and Dave was named Chad Buskin. I dub this the Newtonverse.

Instead of the Sims, this universe's version of Sburb is aping Minecraft.

Newtonverse!CG keeps hacking into their server, to try and stop their auto-chicken farm from bringing down the whole game.