#not a real writing update

[evilmafuyu666]

[ribbittrobbit]

these kids are incredibly stressed out

[its-tea-time-darling]

im sorry, we turned your boyfriend into a mole. yeah and all of tumblr‘s interested in him now. sorry

edit 9/12/23 11.22 CET

and so it begins…

fic1, fic2 @pathsofoak ao3 tag. Mole Poem @thaliaisalesbian . fic by @tourmelion .

update:

ao3 link. please vote for mole scene in most underrated goncharov scene poll

[hrokkall]

Mama gave me music lessons,

now I play the saddest songs

[superbat-lmao]

A “buddy” vigilante story where Jason and Tim go back in time during Dick’s time as Robin, when the Worlds Greatest Detective was still young.

Basically, they significantly change the past and in the most annoying way possible. Tim knows that no one will know it was them and has been pretty morally flexible about the whole thing. They go down the list of rogues, down the list of siblings, bickering about it the whole time.

Jason kills the Joker, Tim rescues Cass, and both of them try and get one over on the other about their past selves.

Because Tim tries to talk baby Jason into stealing the Bat’s tires early while Jason’s out murdering Zucco, and Jason’s out snatching Tiny Tim and his camera from rooftops trying to leave him gift wrapped in the batcave while Tim’s out stealing info from Luthor.

It’s one giant clusterfuck but they’re successful because Tim and Jason combined are absolutely lethal and no one ever saw them coming.

Meanwhile, they keep running into Robin and absolutely losing it over seeing their oldest brother so young and angry.

Dick tries to track them down after they killed Zucco, he wants to ask why. What the hell they could possibly be doing or why that would matter to them.

Tim pushes Jason off a roof.Jason lights Tim’s ancient computer on fire. Tim tears a book in half. Jason takes pictures of Tiny Tim and sets them as his wallpaper. It’s a comedy, your honor.

And probably the worst headache Batman will ever get.

[purplebehittindifferent]

I have added a quirky comment here for the last year and a half, however now… I have no words.

jk I have all these words 👇

I know it is very bitter sweet, but this is the end of Reconnecting. Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. I plan on making a behind the scenes video on my YT sometime soon. Feel free to send any asks you have I want to answer them all!

Please know I am not going to dissapear! I still plan on making content consistently, and my original comic RULE 5 is already underway, and if you’d like I’m certainly not against writing some exposition fics for Reconnecting 💜

masterpost

Prev (3::8) / This is the End 💜

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

still unwell over the prospect of Howdy slowly putting the pieces together and having a complete mental breakdown over it. Laughingstock edition!

[clarionglass]

we're back, gang!

all good things should have a bit of malice in them (game master cinematic universe, part 7) | read on ao3

“Sam,” came the tentative voice from a little way down the corridor, and the man in question paused, turning to look at his colleague with a smile. Brian seemed… not quite worried, exactly, but distracted. There was tension in the way he tucked a wisp of hair that had escaped its customary ponytail behind his ear, like he was trying to keep his hands busy while his brain searched for the right words.

“What’s up?”

“I know I’m being manipulated,” Brian said slowly, “but I thought I’d ask anyway. Is there any chance that you’d consider putting the dematerialisation circuit back in Other Sam’s ship? Just for one quick trip?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “No. Not for another few months of good behaviour, at least. Why do you ask?”

Brian sighed. The answer he’d received wasn’t unexpected, but it was a disappointment all the same. “No reason. Just… something silly, that’s all.”

“What did he say to you?” Sam asked, feeling a knot begin to form in his stomach.

“Honestly, it really wasn’t anything to be worried about,” Brian replied quickly. “It wasn’t a threat, or anything like that. It was just…”

He trailed off, looking almost wistful.

Sam frowned. The immediate spike of anxiety that had shot through him had dulled, fading to concern—a gentler emotion, but no more welcome. “Brian, what happened?”

“Well,” Brian started, taking a deep breath.

---

“I saw your episode of Very Important People,” a familiar voice had said behind him in an unfamiliar cadence, and Brian had nearly choked on his water.

“You watch the shows?” he asked in surprise, turning to look Other Sam in the face. The suit the Time Lord had chosen was a nice touch, he thought—the same cut and style as original Sam’s, but red-shifted to a sort of maroon-purple. “More evil,” indeed.

“Oh, you know,” Other Sam shrugged. “Always good to know a little more about who I’m working with. And you’re certainly an interesting one. You figured out the real time loop in Deja Vu before anyone else, did you know that? Well, of course you don’t, you—”

“Don’t remember,” Brian finished with him, allowing a touch of bitterness to intrude into his tone.

“Exactly,” Other Sam said, with a smile like a shark. “But I’ve been keeping an eye on you since then. You’re bright, for a human.”

“Gee, thanks,” Brian replied, letting the easy reach to sarcasm work to disguise the spark of genuine pride the words had kindled.

Other Sam didn’t look at all perturbed. “Take the compliment or don’t, your choice,” he said. “I’m just saying it because you seem to understand a few things better than the others. Like the perks of control.”

“Oh, hah, that was just a character, you know,” Brian blustered. “For the interview.”

“Of course,” Other Sam hummed in agreement. “Nothing at all like you, I take it?”

Brian nodded sharply.

“So you’re saying that if there was a way that I could get you those sorts of cybernetic enhancements, for real,” Other Sam said innocently, “you wouldn’t be interested?”

Try as he might, Brian couldn’t fully prevent the squeak that escaped him, and Other Sam grinned. 

“Maybe not the claw,” he said, “you didn’t seem as dexterous as would be ideal with that one, but the rest of it? That’s more than possible, and in so many different ways. A quick hop to the future, or any number of planets… All I’d need is to be able to use my ship again.”

There it was, the real reason for the offer, and Brian felt the hopes that had been rising in him despite his better judgement suddenly fall flat. Sam had told him what had happened during the ill-fated Sam Says 4 recording, and had revealed as much as he was able to about Deja Vu. He couldn’t give this guy the key out of the imprisonment he’d only just been put in.

He steeled himself and shook his head. “Sorry.”

Other Sam had just sighed delicately. “Suit yourself. I just thought I’d mention it. How noble of you, playing by the rules.”

And then he’d walked off, seeming none too bothered by Brian’s refusal, which was a relief in and of itself. From what he’d heard, he was worried that saying no might put him in actual danger. But no, he’d met with no consequences. All in all, not the worst encounter he could have had with Other Sam, and when he left the building later that day, the confidence he’d made the right decision sat firm in his chest.

But… damn, Other Sam was good.

That evening, Brian couldn’t keep his mind from returning to that faint wisp of a thought. The memory of the euphoria he’d felt when he opened his eyes to see the almost cyborg version of himself in the mirror haunted him in fleeting bursts. And if he was completely honest with himself, the possibility of living in perfect homeostasis, being able to just create without having to stop and take care of the necessary functions of life, was really quite appealing.

Days passed, and as much as he tried to keep his focus on other things, his thoughts kept drifting back to that particular topic. When it was just a bit of prop work for an improvised interview, it was something he could enjoy for the time it lasted, then put down again. But knowing that it was a real possibility… Even as he tried to suppress the idea, it only grew more seductive.

And when just sitting passively with that concept had become too much to bear, genuine transhumanism dangling within sight but just out of reach, he’d gone to find the real Sam. Of course he’d say no. Still… there was always the chance he might say yes, however slim that was. And he wouldn’t know for sure until he asked.

---

The concern in Sam’s eyes was now mingled with sympathy, and as the recipient of that particular look, Brian felt something in his stomach clench.

“It’s fine,” he said hastily. “Don’t worry about it. Just something silly, like I said.”

Sam looked sad as he drew breath to respond.

“Brian, it’s not silly when it clearly brought you so much joy.”

The words were right, the voice was right, the tone was right. But something was still distinctly wrong, and the hair on the back of his neck started to rise. And half a second later, his brain caught up to what his instincts had already realised, because it struck him like a fist in the gut that he hadn’t seen Sam’s mouth move at all. In fact, Sam’s voice had come from the wrong direction entirely.

He whirled to see Other Sam standing at his back, smiling at him with a look that could have been mistaken for genuine support.

“All I want to do is help,” he continued, every fibre of his being radiating sincerity and gentle patience. 

“Sure,” Sam replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Other Sam said. “I like him. He's smart, and he could almost think like me. With the right prompting, of course.”

Sam tried to suppress the shudder that rolled through him, and nearly succeeded. “You know the deal was hands off the team.”

“Oh, boo,” Other Sam pouted. “I wouldn't have offered if he didn't want it.”

“He's right,” Brian interjected quietly. 

“Brian—”  Sam started, then paused. His eyes narrowed. “Wait. What's ‘it’, exactly? What's he offered you?”

“Avery Goodman,” Brian said, and Sam nodded in recognition. “All of that. But for real.”

Looking into Brian's face, Sam could see plain as day that trying to dissuade him would be of no use whatsoever. He knew Brian was a smart man, knew that he'd probably considered all the dangers to working with Other Sam, even on something small. But the naked want that shone in Brian's eyes like a beacon burned brightly enough to drown all of that out.

Rather than facing that immediately, he turned to his doppelganger. “It's only been a couple of months, man. You're still very much a flight risk.”

“I know,” Other Sam replied contritely, then cast his gaze around before finally meeting Sam's eyes hesitantly. “But I suppose… Well, we don't have to go offworld for it. I can do a significant number of those procedures myself, as it happens.”

The coyness was very much staged. The way his eyes had lit up before saying that last part, Sam wondered if that hadn't been his double's plan the whole time. 

And implications aside, there were the practical details to consider. “Hang on. You're not doing surgery in my fucking studio!”

A shadow passed across the Master's face. “Not your studio. My TARDIS, and you'd do well to remember that.”

“I don't mind where it happens,” Brian piped up wistfully.

Other Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, the picture of magnanimity. “You see? The gentleman insists. And you've got nothing to be worried about,” he added, turning away from Sam to face Brian properly, and taking a step to propel them both in the direction of the console room. “I was very good at cyber conversion, and it's not something you forget in a hurry.”

“Who said I was worried?” Brian asked. His eyes had been shining since the word “cyber” had been mentioned. 

Sam, on the other hand, had been struck by “conversion”, and the word had left a bad taste in his mouth. “Just wait a minute.”

He pulled out his phone, bringing up the contact he'd been given months before. 

Hi Doctor, it's Sam. Quick question, is “cyber conversion” a good or bad thing? 

“—were right about homeostasis, you won't need to eat, or sleep, or any of those mundane things,” he heard his double say quietly as he waited for a reply. “And there are other pesky things that the procedure takes care of as well—”

His phone pinged.

No way. Sam Reich from Dropout Sam?? Oh my god I'm a massive fan, I was so jealous when the Doctor said he'd met you without me! 

Sam started to frown, confused, when another message appeared. 

Sorry!! Not the Doctor, I'm Ruby, we travel together. I've passed your question on though, and he'll get back to you as soon as we’ve got out of this giant space snail thing. Long story! 

“Are you ratting on me to the Doctor?” Sam's doppelganger asked with a hint of petulant disappointment. “Don't you trust me?”

A third message had popped up, and he opened it before responding. 

Doctor says cyber conversion is no good very bad do not let him do it to anyone, read the clearly hastily-written text. 

“No,” Sam replied. “And for good reason, by the sound of it.”

Other Sam just sighed. 

“I was going to say no to the whole ‘getting rid of my emotions’ bit,” Brian added. “And as much as having an electric blaster arm would be incredibly cool, I don't want that to come at the cost of being stuck in a metal suit for the rest of my life.”

Sam blinked. “Yeah. Not agreeing to all that sounds like a good idea.”

His doppelganger rolled his eyes. “Humans. You people don't know what's good for you.”

“Seems like it's what's good for you, not him,” Sam pointed out. 

“Same thing.”

“It’s really not,” Sam replied. “Look, Brian. What did you want out of this?”

Brian eagerly rattled off a few technical terms that Other Sam must have told him, which Sam tried fruitlessly to transcribe before giving up and asking him to repeat them into a voice memo.

What about these? he sent off to Ruby, with the memo attached. 

Doctor says fine, fine, dubious but okay if your friend agrees to it, and only do that last one under supervision, came the reply.

Okay, I know one of those words means something in the brain, Sam typed out. Please don’t tell me supervision means I have to watch brain surgery. I don’t know anything about brain surgery. And I really don’t want to watch brain surgery. Or any kind of surgery, actually.

The Doctor will do it! We’re nearly out of the snail, just hang on for a mo!

“The Doctor says that, and only that, would be okay,” Sam said slowly. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, if he was being honest, but the shine in Brian’s eyes made it worthwhile.

“Really?” he asked, and Sam nodded.

Other Sam smiled. “Wonderful. We can certainly make that happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, hang on a second,” Sam cut in. “The Doctor said he'll supervise.”

This news was greeted with the look of scorn he expected. “Oh yeah? Is he going to show up? Not likely. He never returns to where he left his mess.”

“Ruby said he would,” Sam shrugged. “Don’t know the how and the why, but she was pretty confident.”

“Ruby?” Brian asked.

“Presumably the latest stray he’s picked up to show off to,” Sam’s doppelganger sniped, his tone heavy with disdain, before Sam himself could get a word in. “She’ll be young. English, probably, or at least British of some description. Ooh, and if she’s blonde, I get an extra point.”

“Couldn’t say,” Sam replied. “We’ve only texted.” 

His double shrugged. “Just you wait. Anyway, Brian,” he said, the contempt dropping from his voice to be replaced by a honeyed gentleness. “Shall we get ready?”

He led Brian through the studio’s corridors, en route to an unremarkable door that was identical to, and somehow even less noticeable than, all the other doors along the way, Sam trailing behind them by a few steps.

He’d already seen inside the console room, back when his doppelganger was trying to make a good impression. Brian, however, had not, and much as Sam was worried by this entire turn of events, he still couldn’t wait to see the look on his friend’s face when he saw the TARDIS properly.

Brian, of course, did not disappoint.

His entire face lit up as Other Sam pushed the door open to reveal a wonderland of otherworldly technology, unrestrained by the confines of what, according to the expected laws of physics, should have been a cupboard-sized room. “No,” he breathed in disbelieving awe, then laughed, a noise of unrestrained, giddy delight. “Oh my god. Oh, my god.”

“Good, isn’t it?” Other Sam said, with no small amount of smugness.

“Good?” Brian repeated, turning in a slow circle to drink it all in. “Holy shit. It’s amazing, I love it!”

Despite his unease, Sam couldn’t help but smile as he watched the display of pure fascination. Even now, even though he was no longer a complete newcomer to the TARDIS, being inside the spacetime machine still felt like pure magic.

His doppelganger tolerated the marvelling for a short while longer, before impatience once again crept into his demeanour. “We’re here for a reason, aren’t we?” he prompted, a distinct bite to his tone. “This way.”

Brian nodded, sufficiently chastened, and with his friend at his side, followed Other Sam deeper into the ship.

“Here,” he announced after a moment. The room he gestured to was bright and sterile, set out like a futuristic operating theatre, and Brian felt his heart rate spike with anticipation as he crossed over the threshold. 

“Should I…?” he asked, motioning to the table in the centre of the room, and Other Sam nodded.

Sam watched as his double set out a bewildering array of medical tools, some familiar, some very not, then paused, examining Brian closely.

“Well, you look ready, and I know I am,” Other Sam said. “So all we need now is for our… supervision… to arrive.”

As if on cue, Sam’s phone lit up with a Whatsapp call.

“Sam!” the Doctor exclaimed, clearly peering around what he was able to see of the room. “And you must be Brian, hello!”

“Hi,” Brian replied, slightly awkward from his prone position on the operating table.

“Sam, babes,” the Doctor started. “Would you be comfortable getting close? I need to be able to see what’s going on properly. Or—ooh, there’s a screen over there, if you just—”

“Fine,” Other Sam sighed, intercepting the request with bad grace and the flick of a switch. 

From the other end of the call, Sam could hear the buzz of the Doctor’s sonic device, and with a squeal of feedback, the video call transferred itself onto the monitor that had just been turned on.

“There we go!” the Doctor grinned, his image blown up to fullscreen view. “Now I can see everything I need to, clear as a bell, and Sam’s got his phone back. And you all can meet Ruby!”

“Hiya,” came a cheerful voice from just offscreen, and a blonde girl—she couldn’t have been more than 20—popped her head into frame and waved. “He’s hijacked my phone, so I get to listen to live medical dramas while I try and get space snail goo off my favourite jacket.”

Sam’s doppelganger shot him a pointed look. “Told you,” he muttered with satisfaction.

Sam ignored him, instead focusing on the Doctor, who had taken back the call. “Brian, I just want to check before you get started on this. You know what these procedures are going to involve? And you fully consent?”

Brian nodded, utterly overwhelmed in the best possible way. “Y-yeah. I do. I consent.”

“Okay,” the Doctor said. “I promise I’ll be keeping a close eye on him through all of this, so nothing will happen outside the limits of what you’ve agreed to, yeah?”

“Okay,” Brian agreed with wide eyes, unable to keep the tremor of excitement out of his voice. It was happening. Oh, god, it was finally happening.

Through the screen, the Doctor and Other Sam shared a look that neither of the humans in the room could quite decipher. But it seemed like some silent agreement had been reached, which was the main thing.

Other Sam picked up something that looked like a scalpel of light, and smiled down at Brian. “Ready?”

“Fuck,” Brian breathed. “Yeah. Ready.”

The Master put down the scalpel and placed his hands on either side of Brian’s face, making direct and unblinking eye contact as he did so. After a second, Brian’s eyelids fluttered shut, and all the tension of consciousness drained from his body. He was out like a light, completely dead to the world.

Hypnotic anaesthesia achieved, the Master flashed a satisfied smirk at Sam, who felt something in his chest go tight. That’s what happened to him the day the Master revealed himself, he realised, a simple little psychic violation that looked so quick and easy, and the air suddenly felt too thick to breathe.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said, and fled to the corridor.

Phone in hand, he spent a while just scrolling through the usual selection of apps to distract himself, time getting sucked into those familiar black holes, before another text from Ruby popped up on the screen. 

I think they’re nearly done!! But just while I’m thinking about it, and this is probably a really weird question so I’m really sorry, but is there an older woman who works at Dropout? English, late 60s, curly hair?

Sam frowned, opening his gallery and thumbing back through months of photos.

Like this? he texted back, attaching a picture from last year’s staff Christmas party. Third from the left at the back is Zan from costuming.

Oh my god. Yeah that’s her.

Sam frowned. Is that okay? I’ve never noticed anything weird about her, she’s actually really lovely.

It’s fine, I think, read the reply. It’s just we’ve been seeing a lot of this woman lately, or people who look identical to her. All in different places, all different, real people, but literally identical. And here she is again. Weird!! But probably nothing for you to be worried about.

That is weird, Sam started to type back, but was distracted by a thin seam of white light that grew wider and wider as the door to the control room opened, and Brian stepped out into the corridor.

That a transformation had occurred was undeniable. To Sam’s surprise, considering the surgery that his friend had undergone, Brian was remarkably unscarred, and the robot arm had been left out of whatever procedures had gone on in that room—but twin points of light peeked above the collar of his shirt, much like the red and yellow LEDs covered by the lab coat he had worn as part of his costume.

“You’re, uh, glowing,” Sam pointed out, realising as he said the words that he was echoing Vic. 

“Oh!” Brian replied. “Hang on, let me turn that down—”

He made a face of intent concentration, and indeed, the lights dimmed and faded altogether. The brightness in his smile, however, didn’t diminish in the slightest.

“Isn’t it brilliant? I’ve got total control, all from up here.”

He tapped his temple, beaming once again as his finger made contact with not flesh, but metal. The most obvious aspect of Brian’s cyborg transformation was the implant that curled around his eye—a near match to the silicone patch that had been glued on for his Avery Goodman costume, but possessed of a certain unarguable realness.

Sam just shook his head, at a loss for words.

“I can hide that, too,” Brian assured him cheerfully. With another look of focus, the air above the metal shimmered and blurred, and in as much time as it took Sam to scratch the sudden itch at the back of his head, it had cleared to reveal smooth, unmarked skin.

“Wow,” was all Sam could say for a moment, before a smile slowly dawned across his face. “Brian… fuck, man. I’m happy for you, genuinely. And I can’t tell you how glad I am that it all worked out.”

Brian beamed.

---

At the console of his grounded TARDIS, lost in thoughts of stolen freedom and schemes that should have been, the Master felt a not unfamiliar sensation at the back of his mind. It was enough to dispel the unhelpful reminiscences, and he smiled, slow and vulpine.

“Do you think it’s bad we didn’t tell him you did this part of it?” he heard, Brian’s voice in his mind as clear as if the other man had been standing in the room with him. “I mean, the Doctor knows, so that’s enough, right?”

“Of course it’s enough,” the Master sent back. “And Sam will find out eventually. But until then, you and I can have some fun.”

—

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x escape the death beam: x

by @bloopdydooooo drawing collection: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): x part four (you think you know someone): x part five (point and counterpoint): x part six (a selection of correspondence): x part seven (all good things should have a bit of malice in them): you are here!

[the-awful-falafel]

After the Noise update got my thoughts sorted, I actually think Noise and Peppino are not evenly matched in a fight. They're obviously still relatively equal as rivals, and I think Peppino doesn't fully tap into into his potential most of the time, but I also think Peppino is ultimately stronger-- and that fact pisses Noise off to no end. To catch up, the Noise cheats, steals, and distorts the truth to make himself look better/stronger in comparison as much as possible (not that he even cares about being fair or fighting clean, as seen in his boss fight) and it still only gets him so far.

So much of the update reads as Noise being incredibly petty and using his movie to not only appropriate Peppino's accomplishments for personal profit, but rewrite them / cheat them so he gets to one-up Peppino at every step of the way. Even in the swap mode he gets primacy!

It's probably most telling that Peppino blasted through the final boss rush just through sheer pushed-to-the-brink adrenaline rage, while in Noise's movie reenactment he had to give himself literal super saiyan bomb superpowers out of nowhere to one-up the guy lmao. He's such a gremlin with such an insecure ego, I love it.

[comehellorhighwatertheywillwrite]

Honey you don't need to worry about a silly piece of text in your Google docs when you're going through stuff like your mom having a stroke. Please. It's not that important...

[r0semultiverse]

Hey, Jake & Jack fans, is this anything?

Both men imprisoned (literal & metaphorical).

Both offered an out from their current predicament by an outside force (arguably in the case of Brain Ghost Dirk).

Both have loose ties to Lord English visually.

Yellow initial glow & Gamzee involvement too.

Sometimes a guy just needs to explode (same pose too).

Both dual wielding weapons.

That same said weapon type (for Jack Noir) having killed Jane Crocker.

It's really looking like Jake is going to do her in.

I would also like to point out that we've had interactions involving these three (Jane, Jake, and Brain Ghost Dirk) before that consisted of similar topics & themes.

Brain Ghost Dirk implying that he's just there as moral support, a manifestation of Jake's powers, and as a coping mechanism. Jane also talking about ruling an empire with him while talking down to him, similar to how she saw and/or still sees him in Beyond Canon's Candy timeline. Jake also being uncertain about doing anything to harm her despite all the bad things she's doing.

Brain Ghost Dirk going away tells us that Jake's more hopeful than he's ever been. This is the moment where he is the most sure of his decisions than he's ever been in his life, whatever those decisions may be in regards to Jane and how to handle this situation.

He is probably going to shoot Jane down, quite literally. I would also argue that after all this time, the lad isn't beating the Lord English allegations. We might as well have a parallel of him killing Jane much like how Jack Noir killed her right before he got possessed by Lil Cal & given some of Lord English's immense power.

Alternatively maybe we'll get to see what the power of hope or hope bullets can do to someone whose done so much wrong & come so far off the deep end in terms of moral wrongdoings. Maybe with every shot that hits her, she'll begin to be swayed to the side of good & start to self-reflect.

I'm still not fully convinced that Gamzee actually cured Tavros' peanut allergy, I mean just look at the panel.

This could absolutely be interpreted as Jake injecting his hope power into the epipen and by proxy injecting both his power & the epipen into his son! If younger Jake is strong enough to defeat Grimbark Jade, then adult Jake might just be strong enough to defeat a peanut allergy is all I'm saying! In fact, now that I'm rambling about it, this seems like the more likely outcome is Jake's hope power swaying or (in the very least) confusing Jane mid-fight. Hope bullets, they would look cool & would be pretty strong!

The power of believing in others & wanting things to change can be a strong tool indeed, Mister English.

If there's one person who still believes in changing Jane's mind (or bringing her back to proper canonicity depending on how you interpret the recent lore), it would be Jake English, the believer.

Okay, maybe this is something! Tally ho!

[delimeful]

in sickness and in health (8)

warnings: captivity, arguing, remus talking about remus things, panic, gratuitous amount of puns, lmk if i missed any

-

“What’s going on?”

The impromptu staredown between all three humans was interrupted by Roman hurriedly leaning obnoxiously far over the counter, bodily blocking Patton’s view of the two borrowers.

“Patton!” he blurted, clearly aiming for a casual air and instead landing somewhere in the realm of ‘stewing in blatant panic and guilt’. “Hello there, what an unexpected and lovely surprise to see you here, in… the kitchen of your own home.”

Next to him, Virgil heard the small, distinct thwap of his fellow borrower’s palm meeting their face.

“…What’s going on?” Patton repeated, sounding far more awake this time.

“Extremely normal, non-fairy-related things,” Roman answered, visibly sweating.

“Extremely bloody Dionysian orgies,” Remus said at the same time, considerably louder.

Virgil could see just enough of Patton’s expression to watch the way it crinkled in a sort of morose confusion.

“In the kitchen?” he asked, voice pained, as though that was his main problem with the suggestion.

“If there aren’t any knives involved, can any orgy really be called Dionysian?” Remus replied in a faux-wise tone, lifting his arm to make a deeply inappropriate gesture in accompaniment with his words. This technically cleared the way back to the wall, but as it turned out, only for a moment.

Before either of them could get too hopeful about any chance of escape, Remus ended the gesture by quickly clapping his hands over the both of them in a makeshift dome shape.

Next to him, the other borrower only flinched a bit, but Virgil couldn’t help the outright squeak he made at the sudden limbs dropping down over them.

There was another pause from the humans above them, this one distinctly more harried.

“Um, guys?” Patton’s voice had gone from confused to concerned. “What was—?”

“Broken whoopee cushion,” Remus insisted. “Filled it with mayonnaise, you know how it goes.”

“He sneezed!” Roman added, his voice sliding up a few pitches. “Gesundheit, Remus! Totally nothing strange about that— Padre, wait!”

There were big steps drawing closer, now, and Remus’s hands cinched in a little tighter around the two of them. They were forced to huddle even closer together, and the other borrower’s bony elbow collided with his side in a way he wasn’t convinced was accidental.

He shot them a glare, which they returned with an expression that was equal parts indignant and frantic. After a second, they forced a barely-there whisper through grit teeth. “It’s your human. Will he hurt us?”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Virgil hissed back, just as quiet. “I didn’t ever get caught before you showed up!”

Not while the human was conscious enough to remember it, anyhow.

The other borrower’s eyes narrowed into slits, reminding Virgil that he probably shouldn’t be antagonizing the guy that already proved themself willing to try and murder him once. Before they could respond, though, the conversation over their heads continued.

“Guys,” Patton said, sounding stern. “What have we said about wrangling critters in my home?”

“That it was a firmly banned activity after the Great Frog Croak-tastrophe?” Roman guessed sheepishly. “And, y’know, that was certainly a fair and just ruling for that situation, however—!”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it,” Patton replied, unwavering. Virgil could practically envision the way his human was standing from his tone alone: hands on his hips, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Frog or not, I’m sure whatever you two caught will be much hoppier once they’re released safely outside, right Remus?”

“Eh, you might not feel the same after you see them, Pattycakes,” Remus warned. “I know I’m usually the harbinger of pests, wrangler of rats, champion of centipedes, but not even I know what to do about these guys.”

There was the shuffle of clothing, like Patton was shifting in place, and he sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together, huh?”

There was a moment of hesitation where Virgil assumed the twins were exchanging a wordless meaningful look, as they so often did, and then the distinct slide of glass across a countertop.

The moment the hands around them twitched, Virgil shifted into a crouched position, drawing his legs under him and preparing to bolt the moment there was space, even if it was probably totally futile. Next to him, he could feel the other borrower doing much the same.

Rather than lift off of them, however, the hands shifted to pinch even closer together, forming the shape of a spade, like a pair of nut shells that had been glued back together at the edges, leaving a hollow space inside. The two of them were forced to scramble upwards into the hold or get limbs stuck in between the sides of Remus’s palms as he scooped them up off the counter completely.

Virgil’s stomach dropped at the upwards movement, completely out of his control, and he reached out and latched onto the side of the other borrower’s shirt with a white-knuckled grip. They were still at least a little concussed, and Virgil wasn’t letting them get separated now, not when he’d already gotten himself into the most terrifying situation in his life saving them. Wherever they were going, they’d at least be stuck in it together.

To his surprise, the other borrower gripped him right back.

After only a few seconds, they were lowered and deposited onto a familiar smooth surface. Virgil grit his teeth at the feeling, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. He’d just gotten out of this stupid glass pitcher!

He didn’t get much time to seethe indignantly, however, because the moment Remus’s hands pulled away, there were much bigger problems to face.

Three of them, to be precise.

Heart in his throat, Virgil slowly lifted his head to look up at the face of his human, warped through the curve of the glass.

With a confused furrow to his brow, Patton moved to take a step closer, and then stopped short as the sight before him properly registered. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening with surprise. “Oh my!”

“I toad you so,” Remus interjected unhelpfully.

Roman cuffed his shoulder, and Remus immediately jabbed two fingers into Roman’s side in retaliation. It was only a firm warning look from Patton that kept them from devolving into another slap fight during the most terrifying moment of Virgil’s life.

Virgil shifted to stand, shuffling back until he didn’t have to crane his neck so painfully to make eye contact. Humans were so big, and it had never been more evident than it was now, staring up at giants.

Staring up at Patton. He was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare that had gone exactly like this. Well, minus the concussed would-be assassin. And the frog puns.

Patton, for his part, had developed a genuinely distressed twist to his features as he took in the sight of the two of them. After a moment of wavering, his gaze settled firmly on Virgil, sending a prickling sense of alarm up his spine.

“Hello again,” said Patton, smiling at him.

Virgil froze. The borrower behind him froze. Even the twins froze for a moment, before their heads both snapped around to stare at Patton with eerie synchronization.

“You know them?!” two voices asked, in two very different tones.

Virgil felt dread drop into his gut like a stone down a sewer grate. There was no way.

“I know one of them,” Patton answered, unperturbed by everyone’s shock. “That’s the little guy who helped take care of me while I was sick!”

He lifted a hand in demonstration and wiggled his fingers, the healing burns on them still visibly shiny.

The twins gaped. “He what?”

Behind him, in a far more bewildered tone, the other borrower echoed them: “You what?”

“You shut up,��� Virgil muttered sourly without turning to look at them. His heart was practically shaking in his ribcage, knowing that the human had remembered all along, that Patton had returned home well-aware of the intruder in his walls.

The realization felt chilling, like a thimble of icy water had been dumped down his shirt. Patton hadn’t acted strange at all, hadn’t cast any speculative glances at the walls or scanned any shelves for undersized intruders. The twins and their ghost-hunting equipment clearly hadn’t known the truth, so why would Patton? Virgil hadn’t even suspected.

Who knew what would have happened after Roman and Remus left, and it was only the two of them, with Virgil blissfully unaware of the danger he was in?

Well. Caught like this, he supposed he was going to find out soon.

Patton’s smile faded, carefully watching the way Virgil’s chest was visibly shuddering with too-shallow breaths.

“You thought I froggot, huh?” he said, looking inexplicably sad. “I thought about it while I was in the hospital, and I kinda figured we’re really not supposed to know about you guys. That means it was pretty darn brave of you to try and help me anyways.”

Virgil swallowed, fear sticking in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly didn’t feel brave.

The other borrower stepped up to be at his side, ignoring Virgil’s reflexive attempt to shoulder them back behind him.

“I suppose the saying is true, then.” They paused, narrowing their eyes in a silent challenge. “No good deed goes unpunished.”

The encompassing flourish they made was a little wobbly, as though their balance was still off, but it got the point across: Patton had recovered from his illness, and they were stuck in a pitcher on his counter.

Virgil’s incredulity at the other borrower was enough to snap him out of the worst of his frozen terror, his head whipping to the side to stare at them.

They were insane. They had to be, using such sharp words and an even sharper tone with a human. This was just about the worst time to instigate an argument. The two of them were stuck in a pitcher on his counter!

Unsurprisingly, neither of the twins looked particularly happy with the accusatory turn the conversation had taken. Patton had been their friend for a long time. They had always jumped at the opportunity to defend him from harm in the past, and Virgil doubted that would change now.

For all their tomfoolery, the two of them could be downright vicious when they were angry. If they were willing to tear fellow humans a new one for messing with Patton, it was gruesome to imagine what they’d do to a pair of borrowers. They’d already been terrifying enough when they’d only been curious about him.

Before either of them could begin to speak, however, Patton nodded once, almost to himself, and pivoted to face his friends.

“Howsabout you two get started on cleaning up the living room so we can settle down and get some proper sleep?” he asked, the request firm enough that it was clearly more of an instruction than a suggestion.

Both twins started protesting immediately, looking extremely put out at the idea of abandoning Patton with their exciting new find. They were talking over each other, the words tangling and becoming an indecipherable mess by the time they reached Virgil, but he was fairly certain he heard phrases like “—but I’ll only lie awake haunted by fairy law and order,” and, “—you can’t keep me away from my new pyromaniac bestie!” in the mix.

“Mhmm, yup, we can discuss all of that later,” Patton replied stoutly, ushering the two of them towards the entrance to the kitchen with insistent sweeping gestures, like a shepherd with his herd. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk over breakfast in the morning, but it’s getting late, so hop to it!”

“We’re being banished with frog puns! This is an amphibian atrocity,” Roman bemoaned.

“Froggin’ unbelievable,” Remus agreed. 

However, even with all their complaints, they seemed to understand that Patton wasn’t budging this time, and reluctantly allowed themselves to be shooed out of the kitchen like the world’s noisiest sheep.

At Virgil’s shoulder, the other borrower took the opportunity to lean in while the humans were across the room.

“You ‘didn’t ever get caught,’ hmm?” they asked, still far too smug considering the situation they were in.

A muscle in Virgil’s eye twitched. Despite everything, he wasted a moment considering the merits of trying to inflict another head injury on his fellow captive. They’d been a lot more tolerable with the beginnings of a concussion.

“Do you want to go back to trying to stab each other?” he snapped instead, stepping pointedly away even as he made the thinly-veiled threat. “Because it seems like you want to go back to trying to stab each other.”

“Oh, I’m so terrified,” they replied drolly, crossing their arms. “Won’t someone save me from the horrible Monoxide assassin and his entirely genuine threats?”

Virgil stared at them for a moment, disbelieving. “You know, I think I actually liked you better when you were trying to murder me in cold blood.”

“Don’t lose hope. Maybe I’ll try again later,” they retorted with a dangerous glint in their eye, and then they were both falling silent as Patton approached once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil caught the contemplative frown that flashed over the other borrower’s face, the only glimpse of their consternation at facing down a human. They may have had plans aplenty to deal with the twins, but Patton was clearly more of an unknown to them.

…Virgil knew Patton. He’d spent enough time watching the human to get attached, grown familiar enough with Patton’s life to cheer on his efforts and fret over his disappointments. He should be able to find the right words to get them out of this, convince his human the way the other borrower had effortlessly fooled Roman, but… he couldn’t.

It was impossible to think up a strategy for this situation. How could he possibly reconcile Patton, the guy who helped organize weekly PTA bake sales and volunteered to look after kittens he was allergic to and cried when he saw roadkill, with a human who knew, who would keep them trapped, who needed to be pleaded with for their release?

How was he supposed to bargain with a monster if he couldn’t even accept that the monster existed?

“I’m sorry if the twins frightened you,” Patton said, voice lowered to a softer volume. “They tend to be very exuberant, but they don’t mean any harm.”

The other borrower looked as though they were on the brink of scoffing at the very idea that they couldn’t handle Roman and Remus, a defensive slant to their shoulders.

“Why?” The word tumbled from Virgil’s mouth without his permission, his shoulders hunching under the undivided focus of Patton’s gaze.

“Why what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly like a confused dog.

“If you knew,” Virgil forced out, fingernails digging into his palms, “why didn’t you tell them? Or— or look for me?”

Understanding settled onto Patton’s expression, and he hummed thoughtfully, as though considering how to phrase his answer.

“If you wanted to be seen, you would have come out and said hi,” he finally said, simply. “You saved my life by calling for help. If you wanted to stay a secret, the least I could do is make sure to keep that secret safe.”

Virgil blinked up at him, trying to force the words into a configuration that made sense. Humans didn’t just let mysteries exist, especially not ones that were so easy to grab ahold of.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not awfully curious about you,” Patton continued, and his hand was reaching out for the handle of the pitcher and surely, this was the moment that it all came crashing down—, “but you can’t force a friendship. Especially not like this!”

Slowly, in gentle increments, the pitcher was shifted to lay on its side, the open end facing away from Patton. It was practically a straight shot to the closest wall entrance, their freedom waiting where the back of the counter met the kitchen wall.

They’d been prepared to make a break for it at the earliest opportunity before, but now, with escape dangled in front of them, both borrowers hesitated. Virgil exchanged a dumbfounded look with the other borrower, trying to stomp down the insane hope bubbling in the back of his mind.

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me!” Patton finished, making sure the glass was stable and settled before releasing it and stepping back. “Otherwise, my lips are sealed— and I’ll make sure Roman and Remus keep the secret, too.”

He made a zipping motion over his mouth, eyes crinkled with amusement at the edges, and then turned and walked out of the kitchen without a single glance back.

Virgil hadn’t uttered a single plea, and yet, the path back to the walls was right there. He looped the other borrower’s arm over his shoulder and led them, step by faltering step, across the counter, even scooping his bag up as he went. Nobody came rushing in, nobody stopped them from taking those last few steps into the safety of the walls.

He’d expected to face a monster, and instead he’d been offered kindness, unasked for and freely given.

They were both quiet as they shuffled further into the familiar cramped space, as though a single sound would shatter the illusion of this impossible release. The other borrower pulled away after a moment, their pain of their concussion likely more manageable in the dark. The silence stretched, relief and exhaustion weighing on them in equal measure.

Virgil yawned despite himself, absently wondering if they were going to continue that semi-murderous argument about cults and who wronged who, and if the other borrower would be willing to reschedule it to sometime after they’d slept.

Ahead of them, a third figure stepped out of the shadows, quickly looking them over as though checking that everyone was still intact. Oddly enough, they sort of smelled like gunpowder.

“Hm. That certainly didn’t go according to plan,” they said bluntly, the oversized pack on their back jingling slightly as they stepped forward. “Still, we all survived, so I suppose introductions are in order.”

[theorahsart]

Incorruptible pt 22

Robespierre, maybe for just a short span of time, can feel like he belongs somewhere <3

[goldenhypen]

⋆｡⠐ happy ✧｡♡

✴︎｡⠐ birthday ⠐⚬⋅｡

⋅｡⠐ to the kindest cutest most loving cheerful hard working greatest prettiest handsomest funniest hottest jakey sim 🦭 ⚬♡⋅｡

⎯ ⋅ ♡ ⋅ ⎯

jake, my love and admiration for you go beyond words. thank you for blessing me with so much joy and love in my life. you’re an inspiration to so many and i’m so grateful for you and incredibly proud of where you are and who you’ve become. and you deserve all the best things, or at least to have the best birthday of your life this year <3 eat well and celebrate lots my love <3 i love you and happy birthday <33

[itsokbbygrl]

Proper Education Masterlist A Dark!Joel x reader/OC Saltburn Inspired AU

Prologue:

Our tale begins in a far off land, under the burning heat of a Texan sun. Two lives irrevocably changed—one by love, the other, obsession.  The dangerous naivete of youth combusting when exposed to the fire of envy,  A flame fueled by privilege, ineffable wealth, beauty, and lust so consumes  Our star-crossed pair, until all that remains is this— Is there such a thing as fate? Or merely the calculated hunt of a greater predator?

Inspired by this song and written to this soundtrack.

Chapter 1: Fair is Foul, and Foul is Fair Chapter 2: coming 3/22 at 7pm CT Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5: EPILOGUE:

follow and click "get notifications" at @itsokbbygrl-notifs for updates sent via push notification. new chapters to be published every other friday around 7pm CT as real life allows. this story will be 18+ and consist of mature content and dark themes. reader beware. additional warnings will be added as published.

tagging some mutuals who may be interested in reading: @swiftispunk @5oh5 @merci-killing @javierpena-inatacvest @mermaidgirl30 @sawymredfox @joelsgreenflannel @tightjeansjavi @netherfeildren @survivingandenduring

[delta-pavonis]

Fic: Parasomnia (Wood + Glass series)

Dreamling || Rated E || 10,170 words || complete (Part 3 of the Wood + Glass series) tags: Alternate Universe - Human, doctor Hob Gadling, museum curator Dream, sequel to fake relationship to real relationship, Dream was an unrepentant slut in college, Hob is still an unrepentant slut, former fetish runway model Dream, getting too deep into a relationship too quickly, Bisexual Hob Gadling, Lust at First Sight, Top Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Bottom Hob Gadling, Genital Piercing, Cock Piercing, Frenum piercing, Nipple Piercing, Piercings, Ear Piercings, facial piercings, Tattoos, good thing Hob has a thing for piercings and ink, Cock Slut, Light BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Porn with Feelings, Consensual Somnophilia, Body Worship, Worship, Showers, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Confessions, Cock Warming, Sleeping Together, sleeping with your lover's cock in your mouth, Come Swallowing, Latex, discussion of sex in public, making breakfast

This is just the rush of a new relationship. It will pass. It will pass. But Dream doesn't want it to pass.  God, it has been ages since he felt this good. Since he had someone respond to him, to his intensity, in kind, to meet him punch for punch at every pass. It is what he thought Corin would be, or Nada, or, fuck, even Killala way back when. He thought they could become this. He and Calliope had it for one bright, shining moment, before they burned themselves out. And yet here Hob is, matching his steps, following his lead in this dance, seemingly without much effort, and on the first try. Dream is going to have a whole lot of trouble letting that go, now that he knows it is possible. 

Read on AO3

With sexy Dream art by the AMAZING, GLORIOUS, STUPENDOUS ✨@teejaystumbles✨ (And if that doesn't at least get you to click the link I don't know what will!)