#sorry I am incorrigible

[acrazybayernfan]

Thomas Müller is a mystery, a mystery in the religious sense of the word, something of such a high nature that the human mind can’t understand it fully, of such perfection that we can only have glimpse of it without ever witnessing the full view. Why so? Because he incarnates the very essence of football, and the essence or substance of something can never been totally understood or totally seen. A tree can pass from green, to yellow, to red, to orange, to brown, to a tree without leaves and yet it will still be a tree and still be the same tree because there is something in it superior to its exterior appearance that makes it be what it is, and this something is what can be called the substance. The exterior signs that can change are named the accidents. When Thomas plays he lacks of all the exteriors of football, which like the color of a leaf make its beauty too, he lacks of dribbling, of pace, of touch… and yet all this doesn’t count because he has the substance of the game. What is this substance? I don’t know. It has to do with moving, timing, positioning, understanding and dedication… but those are just outlines not the all drawing. Someone more knowledgeable in football than me could certainly mention other things but no one can be able to describe the all thing. 

Thomas Müller is an exceptional and unique talent of this generation and I’m grateful to have seen him play so many matches and I hope to see him play many mores. 

[no-where-new-hero]

Legitimately obsessed by how this 2021 Reactor article on modern "Bluebeard" retellings included The Blue Castle as its bonus pick. TBC is forever, Maud will never die, she is beloved even in the darkest SFF corners of the Internet.

[isfjmel-phleg]

😶

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hi zeta! So I received a notification today that I was ovulating and had a thought. Husband/Ceo!Cheol checking your phone as you received and notification that you were ovulating. Like my man would go crazy and be at it like the fucking rabbits.

(sorry why is this so long)

tw: dom!seungcheol, sub!reader (fem), marriage!au, unpotected sex (pls stay safe), breeding kink, mentions of kids and pregnancy, praise, use of petnames, daddy and mommy kink (they want to be actual parents), mating press, spanking, oral (f rec), cockwarming - minors dni.

@gyuwoncheol tagging her bcs she helped me to her own demise

"Babe?"

"Yes darling?"

"You have a new notification!" Seungcheol yells from the other end of the living room.

"I'll check it later, thanks!" You yell back, trying to make yourself heard through the noise of the kitchen mixer.

Seungcheol is a man who values your privacy and would never attempt the petty snooping around on your phone.

But how could he miss the bright notification of your cycle tracking app saying that you're ovulating?

He turns his head to your direction and looks at the shape of your body standing in front of the counter and his mind races at the thought of you bearing his kids and having them run around your legs in the future.

And it makes him want to fuck you until he has made sure you're pregnant.

He gets up from the couch and walks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You sure love back hugs, don't you?" You let out a small laugh.

"How can I not when I have such a pretty wife?" He hums.

"Oh, I see how it is." You turn off the mixer and turn around to face him. "Come on, out with it, big guy."

"What? Can't I just compliment my wife because I feel like it?" He pouts his lips.

"Seungcheol, you never compliment me without any reason."

"I was just thinking...."

"I knew it."

"I haven't even said anything yet!" He complains.

"Oh my God, just say it!"

"I was thinking how pretty you'd look with a belly full of our kids."

Your eyes widen with shock at your husband's blunt words. It's true that you've discussed the possibility of widening your family with Seungcheol and you know he would be the most silly and doting dad ever. But the way he looks at you and his hands tighten on your body makes you feel a tad bit jittery (in a very good way).

"Did you just think of that, or...?"

"Your tracking app said you're ovulating and I can't get it out of my damn head." Seungcheol groans.

"You checked my phone?!"

"I didn't unlock it! It was right beside me and I just saw the pop-up on the screen!"

"And that made you worked up already?" You deadpan.

"God, you have no idea." He drops his head on your shoulder and rolls his hips against you.

"You're incorrigible." You hug him with a light chuckle.

You feel his lips stretching in a grin and he throws you over his shoulder with one swift motion, carrying you to the bedroom. You complain all the way, but he just slaps your ass and puts you down on the mattress, your legs hanging from the edge of the bed.

"I am indeed incorrigible, darling." Seungcheol strips himself down to bare skin and purposefully climbs over you to grab a pillow and place it under your lower back.

"I'll do everything in my power," he hooks his fingers in the hem of your sweats and drags them away from your legs, "to get your pretty pussy," he removes your cotton panties to reveal your cunt, "full of my cum until you physically can't take more inside you."

"C-Cheol-" You watch your husband kneel on the foot of the bed, ready to use his tongue on you.

"Talk to me, darling. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck, I want your kids so bad." You moan and spread your legs, putting your hands under your knees to pull them on your sides.

"That's what I thought too." He smirks and leans down to press a kiss on your clit, followed by full-bodied swipes of his wet muscle from your puffy bud of nerves to your hole, waiting for your pussy to drip just enough to get messy.

"You're so perfect, you know that?" He brings your legs on your chest and puts your ankles on his shoulders, the head of his cock dragging over your pussy. "Perfect wife, with a perfect pussy." He whispers and slides his shaft inside you, stealing your moans with his mouth.

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his pillowy lips, all while his cock is battering up your cunt. Your leg muscles tense up from being stretched out to their limits, but you don't want to switch up positions.

"Sweet, sweet fucking cunt, all ready to keep my cum safe." Seungcheol groans wildly on your lips, "Want to make you a mommy so bad."

"Fuck, I want you to be a daddy, Cheol, ah!" You throw your head back on the bed, watching your husband plow his hips in you relentlessly, his bottom lip caught between his pearly whites.

"W-Want a pretty little girl, w-with your eyes and lips, wanna treat her like a princess."

"And a rowdy little b-boy, so you c-can play g-games with him." You stammer over your words, but you get the message across.

"Fuck, I love you so much, darling." Seungcheol moans airily and plants his hands beside your head, rutting in you like a madman, sweat dripping down his body and a few drops landing on your chest.

"Cheol, I'm c-close." You sob.

"Me too, baby. Just a little more, please." He begs you to hold out.

You do as he says and you cum undone underneath him, his thick cock pulsing until he has emptied himself inside your cunt, not daring to pull away from you.

A few seconds of silence pass and none of you has moved yet. Your pussy clenches around his cock ever so slightly and you whimper, your legs falling limp on the bed.

"Even your pussy wants more, babe." Seungcheol chuckles and moves his cock inside you, bringing himself back to full hardness.

"You mean you've got more to give?" You pant.

"For you? Always."

[blossomarlia]

dressing up

When you're unsure how you feel in the dress the boys bought you, they make sure to re-inspire some confidence. (reupload from previous blog, see navigation for more info!)

poly!jegulus x fem! reader

warnings: mostly fluff, sexual references and implied smut at the end, reader has hair and is able-bodied.

You rub the liquid-soft silk of your dress absent-mindedly between two fingers, eyes locked on your reflection in the bathroom mirror. When you'd tried it on just a few days ago, the shop lady had told you you were a vision; now you're sure she was just trying to sell her product.

You want to blame the sizing- maybe it's too small, the wrong shape, impossible to look good in even if you had the body of a mannequin. But even that doesn't seem plausible. It's a beautiful dress, high-quality with a price to match. There's no alternative: you must be the problem, straining fabric with the parts of you that you wish you could just forget about.

You breathe out as much as you can, trying not to flush with the embarrassment you feel at the thought of having to show your boyfriends just what a mistake it was, encouraging you to spend their money on a pretty dress you can't possibly wear. It was wrong of you to accept the gift. Guilt boils hot and hurting in your stomach as you imagine your lovely boyfriends, so pleased to finally have convinced you to let them sponsor such a luxury. How awful to repay them by looking dowdy and silly and not at all right for something so beautiful.

You think quickly, aware of the expectant pair sitting just seconds away in the living room. You can't pass them without revealing yourself, but the prospect is unimaginable. What a waste of money.

“Baby?” James’ voice, soft and cheerful, sounds from just past the door. Your throat tightens. “Not that we’re too miffed, but we would like to see you at some point. You’ve been in there since we got back from the shops twenty minutes ago.”

Shit. You curse yourself for deciding to come in here for a full-body view of the dress, leaving all your other clothing in the bedroom. Exiting naked would usually warrant rather a happy reaction from the boys, but after looking a few moments more at the outline of your body in the mirror, that doesn't seem like a good option either. “Sorry!”

"Not to worry, sweetheart."

James’ white bathrobe is the only reasonable alternative. You grab it off the hook by the towels and wrap it around yourself, nodding contentedly as it reveals only a sliver of fabric at your chest and nothing more. You might as well be wearing a nightie, for all they know. The dress will just have to be returned, and you'll tell them you couldn't find one that fit- technically correct.

You aim to leave the bathroom casually, but that becomes almost impossible when you open the door and find yourself face-to-face with Regulus, his fist raised as if to knock.

“Hi, Reg!” Too cheery. You tamper down your smile and stand on your tip-toes to kiss him, holding the robe tightly around yourself.

“Hello. I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner. Are you alright, darling?" He wonders, watching you with storm-grey eyes that always seem to see just a little more than you're expecting them to.

"Of course! Dandy." You supply.

He cocks his head, unmoving. "You’re in an odd mood.”

“What? No. This is my usual mood,�� You insist.

“M-hm.” His eyes drop momentarily down to the robe, narrowing. “Any particular reason you're wearing James' robe?” 

“Am I?”

The aforementioned individual appeared, suddenly, grinning. “I don’t mind. Looks great, very sexy!”

You wonder if it's possible for your face to heat so much that it melts.

“Incorrigible, James.” Regulus says softly.

You give him a weak smile, squirming away from the impossible weight of their combined gazes and heading for the bedroom. Regrettably, they follow you.

“Why are you wearing it, angel?” James asks, flopping onto the bed. 

You shrug, searching for an opportunity to get them both to leave you alone to change. The truth is that your own robe would've been much too short, and if they see the bottom of the dress they'll probably ask for the whole thing, and that's just not going to happen. You press your fingers into the soft curve of your lower stomach nervously, taking a few steps backwards until your back hits the wall. James' brows pull together. 

“Um. I don't know.”

The two of them exchange a glance. You understand; you're not exactly behaving in a normal manner.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Regulus asks. You like to think you're better at reading his expressions than most- the slight slant of his dark brows tells you he's concerned, but you can't get a good read on the rest of it.

"Yes, I'm fine! Why are you- I- I'm just a little warm."

"Call me crazy, angel," James says, amused, "But taking off the robe might help with that."

Your reply comes too quickly, to your immediate regret. "No!"

There's a brief silence. You feel like a total idiot, but you're sure it beats the feeling you'd get seeing them pretend to like the way you look right now. You squeeze your eyes shut for second, swallowing hard.

"I'm sorry," You sound mortifyingly close to tears. "Sorry. I just- sorry."

At a total loss, James stares at you from the bed. Regulus touches your upper arm gently.

"There's no need to apologise, darling, just tell us what's happened. What's made you so upset?"

You force yourself to make eye contact. "Please can you both just go while I get changed?"

Their expressions are awful; knowing you're causing such a fuss over something so trivial, so stupid, you feel like just about the worst girlfriend in the world.

“Is there something you're worried we'll see? Bruises, or something?” James asks. "We can go, baby, but if there's something going on it might be better for Reg or me to take a look. You know I was joking when I said I'd break up with you if you got that tattoo of Margaret Thatcher's face."

You deflate, softened by his attempt to break the tension. Regulus rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth twitch. "What's going on, hm?" He asks quietly.

With a sigh, you stare at the ground, giving up. They're too lovely to stick to your original plan- you'll just have to let it happen, and hope to make up for it another time by looking better.

"...I'm not sure you'll love what you see."

“Of course we’ll love it. We love you.” Regulus says firmly, like it's obvious.

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Angel. Take the robe off, yeah? We’ll prove it to you.” 

At James' insistence, you take a deep breath and stare at the ground as you shrug off the robe, wrapping your arms around your middle. You're keenly aware of the places where your skin presses against fabric, the way it falls, and the heat rushing to your cheeks. Oh, god.

"Fuck." Regulus says, uncharacteristically crude. You curl in on yourself a little further.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not how it looked on the-”

James interrupts you. “Baby? I’m gonna be honest, because I love you, okay?”

“Okay.” You say meekly, eyes stinging. Maybe it's even worse than you’d thought.

“I cannot hear a single word you are saying when you look that good. Like, a single word. It’s all lost on me. I’m going to need a minute.” 

Regulus’ hands are on you before you could properly react to James’ words, drawing your arms away from your body and taking in the dress with hungry eyes. 

“Exquisite, sweetheart," He exclaims, hands on yours. "I would say you’re never taking this off, but that’s actually all I want to do.”

"What?" You manage, smiling despite yourself. You pull your hands away and press them to your face. "Reg, you don't have to-"

“You thought we wouldn’t want to see this?” Hands on your shoulders, Regulus spins you once, before pulling your back against his chest and planting a heated kiss to the side of your neck. “And you called me crazy?”

“You’re- I’m- what?” You stammer. James makes an unintelligible sound from the bed, pressing a dramatic hand to his heart. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us, angel. Holy shit. I'm thanking you. I'm thanking the gods. I'm thanking-"

"James is very thankful." Regulus whispers into your hair. You laugh out loud, a little giddy at all their praise. "D'you know what I'd be thankful for right now?"

"What?"

"You on that bed, darling," He says. You lean into his touch as his hand slides down your side, squeezing a part of your waist you'd prodded critically in the mirror not ten minutes ago. Now you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands through the thin fabric, enjoy having a shape his hands both appreciate so well. "Off you go."

It's an instruction, now, and you shiver at the authority in his tone as you obey. James is on you before the duvet has even settled, making you gasp as he presses kisses all over your face.

“I’m going to destroy this dress. I’m sorry.” He says earnestly. You giggle happily, insecurities not quite gone but coated in a honey-sweet joy that softens their presence.

“I thought you liked it.”

“M-hm. It’s okay,” His hand finds your thigh and grips it firmly, fingers pressing into soft skin. “We’ll buy you a million more.” 

You let yourself enjoy it all for a moment more before giving any space to the snarky voice at the back of your mind, more out of a desire for reassurance than genuine belief that the two boys on top of you would genuinely do such a thing. "You're not- not just saying all this to make me feel better?"

“Why would we ‘just say’ this?” Regulus murmurs against your right shoulder, forearm across your stomach as he does wicked things to your skin that you'll have to cover in concealer if you want to wear anything sleeveless for a few days.

“...I don't know. Make me feel better?”

“You’re stunning. Literally- how often is James speechless, hm?” 

You laughed. “Hardly ever.” 

“Exactly. You're quite regularly the most beautiful girl either of us have ever seen, darling, whether you're feeling the same way or not,” Regulus leans on his elbow to look at you sternly. "We don't appreciate you this way because you look like somebody else, we adore you because you're yourself, and completely radiant."

“I don’t think you don't like me, I promise. It’s just something that’s in my brain- that I’m ugly, or something. It's silly."”

"It is," James agrees, allowing Regulus to return to whatever he's doing to your collarbone. "But it's not your fault. Your only job is to listen to what we're telling you, instead of your insecurity. Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nod, a little breathless. It's very easy to be agreeable when they're doing all these things to you. James kisses a line down your throat, to your chest, to your arm, slipping the strap of the dress down to follow. “I love you both," You manage.

They answer in their own, doubly enjoyable, ways.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LONG AWAITED

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ When the going gets tough, you'll get going. You straighten up in your seat, feeling heat rush through your face. Damian beside you remains composed, his expression unreadable as he regards Ms. Varley with a calm demeanor. "Sorry," you squeak, quickly gathering your things and leaving. You ignore Victoria's questioning stare during ballet. You ignore Damian's heated gaze during art. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none at all wc: 3.7k

You finish the nanite chamber the day before you go back to school. The last thing you do is place some badassium and watch as the machine powers to life. The iron spider suit floats inside, a swirl of energy trailing around it.

Damian is off to the side, eyeing the thing. Jon sits crisscross in the air, hands in his lap. “What is your suit made of? I’ve never seen something like it,” observes Jon, watching the compacted suit bob up and down slowly.

Now, you know nanotech is a thing in the DC verse, but for the life of you you can’t remember what for. “No clue,” you lie, shrugging. “My dad made it. That’s all I know.”

“But you made this.” Damian gestures to the nanite chamber.

“He left blueprints for one in my suit,” you shrug.

Jon floats closer, poking the glass. “What does it do, exactly?”

“Its main purpose is to charge the suit.” You lean back, crossing your arms. “It also repairs the suit if it’s damaged, though.”

Damian eyes the chamber with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, his gaze flickering between you and the pulsating suit. "Impressive," he finally remarks, his tone guarded yet intrigued. "Your father seems to have thought of everything."

You nod, a hint of pride awakening in you. "Yeah, he's always been good with tech. I've just been following his instructions."

Jon tilts his head, looking at you thoughtfully. "Must be handy, having something like this. Does it take a lot of maintenance?"

"Not really," you reply, relaxing a bit as you explain. "The badassium is a strong power source. That's all it really needs."

Damian's expression softens slightly as he observes the suit, perhaps seeing it in a new light. "And you're sure it's safe?"

You nod confidently. "Who do you think I am? Of course.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn't.”

You scoff, reaching out to swat at his arm. He lets you, then grabs your hand and pulls you to him. Damian's grip is firm but gentle, and you find yourself pulled into a moment of unexpected closeness. His eyes meet yours, the intensity of his gaze softened by a hint of warmth.

Jon watches with interest, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he hovers nearby. "Looks like Damian's impressed," he teases lightly.

Damian rolls his eyes but doesn't let go of your hand. "Impressed might be a stretch," he mutters, but his tone lacks its usual edge.

“I’ll take what I can get,” you grin, pulling your hand from his.

Damian releases your hand, a faint smirk crossing his face. "Don't get used to it," he says, his voice returning to its usual cool demeanor.

Jon chuckles, floating back a bit. "Damian likes smart people.”

Damian shoots Jon a glare, which Jon returns with an innocent shrug. "Can't blame him," Jon adds playfully. "You are pretty amazing."

“Aw,” you croon, reaching out to pinch Jon’s cheek. “You’re sweet.”

You catch Jon’s arms reaching out towards you, so you dodge. Alas, he is quicker, and he picks up into the air with him. Jeez, they’re touchy today.

Damian shakes his head, a faint smirk lingering on his lips as he watches the interaction between you and Jon. "You two are incorrigible," he comments, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Okay, food time,” declares Jon, carrying you out of the cave with you in his arms. Your protests are ignored. “Time for you to eat.”

Damian and Jon share a look as they leave.

Damian holds his hand out for you as you step out of the car. You think that spending time with Jon, who grew up in the country (aka where manners are automatic) has rubbed off on him. It’s still as snowy as ever, and you feel it crunch under your shoe. As you step onto the snow-covered ground, the cold air nips at your cheeks.

"Thanks," you murmur, giving his hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

Some people give you glances as the both of you walk in. They’ll be seeing the pair of you much more, since you now live with him. You just hope the news won’t catch on too quickly. You’re not all that interested in being a new “Wayne” kid.

Once inside, the warmth of the building envelops you, a stark contrast to the chill outside. It’s never a fun time being back in school after a break, but you think you feel less strongly than other kids. School is just easy for you.

Damian and you take your seats beside one another. You sigh at the familiar space. Ms. Varley looks even less happy to be here than your peers, not that you’re really surprised. Her monotone voice drones through the morning announcements, barely registering in your mind. You steal a glance at Damian, who seems equally disinterested in the proceedings. His focus drifts to the window, where snowflakes dance against the glass, a serene contrast to the mundane classroom scene.

Then, he glances at you. The two of you hold eye contact, simply just taking the other in. You find yourself drawn to his piercing gaze, a mixture of curiosity and something deeper stirring within you. He leans closer, you hope he doesn’t somehow hear you gulp. “You’re staring,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear.

“So are you.” The air between you feels charged. His closeness sends a shiver down your spine, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirling within you.

The classroom seems to fade into the background as you both exchange glances, each moment stretching with anticipation. You can almost feel the weight of his presence, his proximity stirring something deep within you. Ms. Varley's voice continues to drone on, but neither of you are truly listening. Damian's hand brushes against yours subtly, a silent reassurance that sends a thrill through you.

You tilt your head slightly towards him, catching the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering winter air. "Guess we're both guilty," you reply in a hushed tone, your breath barely grazing his cheek.

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Students begin shuffling out of the room, but you and Damian remain seated, caught in your own private world. Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and intimate.

"Would you... like to do something after school?" Damian's question hangs in the air, laden with possibilities.

“Like what?” you echo softly, leaning in a bit closer. Your thumb travels up to your face. You take your nail between your lips, biting it in anticipation. His eyes stare unabashedly.

"Anything," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever you'd like."

“There's a new exhibit at the Gotham Museum of Art," you suggest, voice steady yet tentative. "I think you’d like it.”

“Ahem.”

You startle, because, holy shit, what were you thinking? Ms. Varley has her hands on her hips, glaring at you two. “Class ended two minutes ago.” Her tone is sharp, cutting through the lingering atmosphere between you and Damian.

You straighten up in your seat, feeling heat rush through your face. Damian beside you remains composed, his expression unreadable as he regards Ms. Varley with a calm demeanor. “Sorry,” you squeak, quickly gathering your things and leaving. Damian follows you out.

You ignore Victoria’s questioning stare during ballet.

You ignore Damian’s heated gaze during art.

Damian tells Alfred to drop you two off at the museum. He says it’s for your art class, that you've been assigned to study some pieces there. You wonder why he lied, since the two of you aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just hanging out, right?

As Alfred drops you off at the museum, Damian’s demeanor is composed, his posture elegant as always. You step out onto the bustling street, the crisp air mingling with the sounds of Gotham's urban rhythm. The museum stands before you, its grand façade a testament to the city's rich heritage.

"Thank you, Pennyworth," Damian nods to the butler before turning to you. "Shall we?"

You nod, mentally preparing yourself. Preparing yourself for what? You’re not sure. Inside the museum, the atmosphere is serene, with the soft murmur of visitors and the occasional echo of footsteps on marble floors. Damian leads you through the corridors lined with artwork, his knowledge of the pieces evident as he shares insights and observations with you.

You find yourself drawn into conversations of others that range from the profound to the whimsical, discussing everything from classical masterpieces to contemporary expressions of art. Damian's presence is reassuring, his occasional smiles and thoughtful gestures adding to the richness of the experience.

As you explore the exhibits together, you notice how Damian's demeanor softens, his usual guardedness giving way to moments of genuine interest. The museum becomes a backdrop, noises muffling.

At one point, you find yourselves standing before a striking abstract painting, its vibrant colors and bold strokes capturing your attention. Damian watches you quietly, his expression contemplative as he takes in your reaction.

"This one's interesting," you comment, studying the painting with a thoughtful expression.

Damian nods, his gaze lingering on the artwork. "It's meant to evoke a sense of movement and emotion," he remarks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Movement? Emotion?” you remake, mind thinking inappropriately. You can’t help it.

You let out a surprised yelp as Damian pinches your side, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Hey!" you protest, swatting his hand away with a laugh.

He chuckles softly, a rare sound that warms your heart. "Pay attention to the art, not your thoughts," he chides gently, though his eyes betray a glint of amusement.

Your eyes catch color off to the side, and before you know it, your feet are carrying you across the hall. The painting isn’t grand or anything, but you resonate with it. A person, multiple persons, stare at you. The colors remind you of a portal. The faces remind you of you. And other Peter Parker's, and other Gwen Stacy's, and other MJ’s. All you are and all you'll never be.

…

Man, you miss home.

As you stand before the painting, its vibrant hues and abstract forms seem to swirl with a life of their own. Each brushstroke tells a story, evoking memories and emotions you thought were buried deep within. Damian watches you silently, his gaze contemplative as he senses your introspection.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly, his voice breaking the stillness around you.

You blink, refocusing on Damian's concerned expression. "Yeah, just... this painting," you begin, struggling to find the right words. "It's like... it's like looking into a mirror of sorts."

He looks at you. “I don’t always know who I am, or who I’m supposed to be,” you admit. “I just know I want to keep doing what I want to do.”

Damian listens intently, his expression softening as he takes in your words. He reaches out, his hand gently grasping yours, a silent gesture of understanding and support. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he reassures you, his voice quiet yet reassuring. "Just know that you're not alone."

You try to pull away, but his hand grips yours, tight and assured. His touch grounds you, anchoring you in the moment as you look into his eyes. There's a warmth there, a depth of understanding that surprises you.

After a moment, Damian gently squeezes your hand, silently asking if you're ready to move on. You nod, but you find yourself reluctant to let go of his hand. You should let go, you know, but you just can’t.

Damian takes you to a smaller gallery tucked away from the main halls. The lighting is softer here, casting a warm glow over the carefully curated pieces. Damian stops before a painting that contrasts sharply with the abstracts and vibrant colors you've seen so far.

It's a portrait, meticulously detailed and imbued with a sense of emotion that transcends its stillness. The subject is a young boy, his expression a mixture of innocence and quiet strength. The artist has captured every nuance, from the play of light on his face to the subtle curve of his smile.

Damian gazes at the painting with a quiet intensity, his eyes tracing the contours of the boy's face as if searching for something deeper. "This," he begins softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "is my favorite."

You stand beside him, studying the painting with newfound respect. "It's beautiful," you murmur, your voice touched with genuine admiration.

"It's more than that," Damian continues, his tone thoughtful. "It's a reminder of... resilience. The ability to endure despite the odds."

You nod, understanding his words on a level that goes beyond the surface. The painting speaks volumes about Damian himself, about the strength and complexity hidden beneath his aloof exterior

As you both stand there, sharing this moment of quiet contemplation, you feel a connection deepen between you. It's not just about the art anymore; it's about the shared experience, the unspoken understanding that bridges the gap between your worlds.

“I get it.” Because a couple of months ago, Damian Wayne and Jon Kent were nothing more than words and colors. You’ve experienced his grievances, his growth. You understand because you know. And also, just look at yourself. You’re stuck in a universe not your own, but you’re doing fine. Dare you say… you’re pretty… content.

“You do?”

“I do.”

His eyes bore into yours, taking you in. His gaze is piercing, strong and relentless. Without a word, he takes your hand again, leading you away from the crowded gallery into a quieter alcove.

The moment stretches, charged with anticipation as you stand face to face. "You're amazing," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I've never met anyone like you."

His hands raise, hovering at your sides. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Huh–

His hands grasp under your thighs, heaving you up against him with ease. His fingers squeeze into your flesh, sending your mind spiraling.

And his lips– oh. His lips crash into yours. They feel… they feel good against your own. Plush, soft, and oh so desired. An exploration between souls. The kiss deepens, giving in to a deep hunger.

Your arms betray you, hooking over his shoulders, hands finding their place in his hair. You ruffle and grip it, messing it up from its meticulous presentation. Damian presses you against the wall, breathing heavily through his nose. Your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue inside–Jesus.

Your legs tighten around his waist, as it’s the only thing you can think to do. Where else would they go? He’s holding you up so good, it’s only natural. He draws you impossibly closer, moving his body against yours. He sighs into your mouth, shoulders flexing. Damian is all taking, like he’s drawing something out of you after so long.

You furrow your brows, drawing back. He chases you, unwilling to let you go now. He hums like he’s confused at your movement. Your pulse is thundering. You can hear his doing the same. Need claws at your ribcage. Your breath catches. He shudders against you.

Damian pulls back, only to take a breath. His gaze is unbelievably intense, as if he is unraveling secrets with his eyes alone. The air around you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can feel the heat of his breath mingling with yours. Your proximity closes as he presses his lips to yours once more with one kiss, two kisses, three. A plethora of tiny fleeting kisses, no less mind-numbing than the other. Time seems to stand still as you both linger in the sweetness of those chaste kisses, each one leaving you yearning for more.

The area is filled with smacks of your lips. He moves languidly against you, completely content. Finally, he pulls away, leaving your lips tingling. His eyes stay on them for a while, looking down at you wrapped around him before trailing up to meet your eyes. You savor the way his chest heaves against yours.

“Damian,” you breathe. He closes his eyes, like your voice itself sets him off.

“Habib(t)i,” he sighs, leaning in to press his face against yours. Oh, God. “My beloved,” he croons. How whipped is he from just a kiss?

A kiss. Oh. Oh, wait. No. Nonono. This can’t happen. This cannot happen.

You push off of his shoulders, tugging against his grip to land on solid ground. His grip loosens reluctantly, his expression a blend of confusion and concern. "What?" he asks softly, reaching out tentatively as if afraid you might vanish. “What is it?”

“Damian,” you manage.

He stands there, watching you with an intensity that speaks of his own turmoil. "Tell me," he presses gently, taking a step closer, his hand hovering near yours as if seeking reassurance.

“You… Jon,” you say desperately, turning away. “You, you’re–” You risk a glance at him, hoping for clarity but finding only the storm of emotions in his eyes. “You’re confused.”

“I am not,” he growls, offended.

“I… this can’t happen,” you stress. “I’m sorry, but this can’t happen. Not for me.”

He scoffs, but lacks his usual bravado. “Don’t push me away because of fear.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you steel yourself, taking a deep breath to calm the swirling emotions threatening to consume you. “It’s not fear, Damian,” you reply, voice trembling.

“Then what?” he asks, borderline desperate. "Tell me what you need."

“I can’t…” Are you a… homewrecker? Are they officially together? “I just can’t. Right now.” You turn around, hands trembling. His hands reach out for you. “[Name]–”

“We’ll talk later. I swear.” Your feet carry out across the room. “But I just can’t right now.” The air crackles with tension as you move away, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Damian stands there, conflicted and vulnerable, his usual composure shaken by. His hand hesitates in the air, reaching out for you but falling back to his side as you retreat.

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest by the time you make it outside. You hardly feel the cold biting at your skin. What have you done? You hands struggle to get a grip on your phone, opening your texts with Jon.

please get this boy some brown contacts

jon im so sorry

He responds seconds later.

???

i kissed damian

!??!?!?!

LOOK OUT

You gasp, moving out of the way as a car barrels past you. The bastard honks at you, asshole. You sigh, looking back to your phone–your phone. That’s not in your hand anymore. Where is your phone?

Oh, no. You see it now. On the ground, screen cracked beyond repair. The car must of ran over it, you guess. You close your eyes and breathe, just breathe. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, pocketing the useless device. You glance around, feeling a mix of frustration and regret swirling inside you. The street is bustling with people going about their day, oblivious to the turmoil in your mind.

You detour into a nearby alley. Probably not the smartest thing to do in Gotham, but you can take care of yourself. Knees giving out, you sink the ground against the wall.

You just want to go home.

The world spins around you, the weight of your actions crashing down. Everything feels like it's slipping through your fingers. You rest your head against the cold brick wall, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos.

Moments pass, or maybe it's minutes. Time seems to stretch and warp around you, the sounds of the city fading into a dull hum. You press your palms against your eyes, trying to block out the swirling thoughts.

What have you done? Jon. Oh, Jon. Damian. Damian Damian Damian.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself off the wall, steeling yourself for what comes next. There’s an ache in your chest, somewhat familiar.

hey look it

Huh?

over there!

What is that? An explosion color. Visual kaleidoscope. A swirling vortex of hues, shimmering and pulsating with an otherworldly energy. Your heart races. The air around you crackles with energy, pulling you towards the known unknown.

A figure steps out hand outstretched. His blue and red suit is familiar.

“[Name],” he calls. Miguel.

“Miguel,” you whisper, hand reaching out without hesitation. He grasps yours reassuringly, slowly pulling you into the portal. The bright light is welcoming. You don’t even squint as you pass through the universe.

You breathe as you step into your destination. Nueva York is something ethereal to you. Your favorite part of this Earth might just be a Lunar Train. Really, a train to the moon? How cool is that? You can see the line stretching into the sky from here.

Miguel's hands land on your shoulder, gently turning you around. “Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head. “No.” His eyes roam you for injuries, nodding in satisfaction when he finds none.

“[Name]!”

Arms wrap around you, nearly tackling you to the ground. Soft hair presses into your cheek as Pav grips you tight. A grin stretches across your face automatically, arms coming up to embrace him. “Pav!”

He laughs breathily. “Missed you,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“Missed you too,” you reply softly, squeezing him tightly before pulling back slightly to look at him. His eyes are a little watery. He turns to the side waving his arm. “It’s [Name]! They’re here!”

You watch as your friends barrel around the corner. Miles trips a little bit as he runs towards you. Gwen is tearing up as soon as she spots you. They join your little group hug with yells of your name. Hobie rounds the corner with Peter B., hands in his pockets casually. You hold out a hand to him and he joins in, gripping you all tightly. Peter beams at your group, Mayday in his hands.

“[Name],” sniffles Miles, “where have ya been?”

Gwen wipes away a tear, her expression a mix of joy and concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You only hold them tighter, eyes shutting tight. A traitorous tear falls down your face. Hobie diligently wipes it away. You don’t want to talk right now.

You’re finally back.

notes: everytime i write a damian scene he gets 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 i swear (its not on purpose it just happens </3)

i actually wanted jon to have the first kiss in the fic, but i dont think he'd let reader get away tbh lol, and if he did he's sticking an ear out because he's worried ab em.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hii ivy!! i was thinking for the 1k celebration, the prompt "I'm not cute" "sure, keep telling yourself that" for James??

I love your thinking very much, love! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ Thank you so much for requesting <33

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ JAMES POTTER #48: "I’m not cute." "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

It was a regular weekend, and you and James had somehow ended up at Madam Puddifoot’s. Not by choice, mind you, but because Sirius had practically shoved the two of you through the door, cackling as he held it shut from the outside until you resigned to staying put.

You glared at James from across the small, heart-covered table, wrinkling your nose at the frilly pink tablecloth. “This is your fault, you know.”

He grinned, dimples out and completely unbothered by the absurdly decorated café. “How is it my fault?”

“You’re the one who made me come to Hogsmeade with you. If I’d known we’d end up here, I’d have stayed in the common room.” You huffed, crossing your arms as he laughed. “I am not cute enough for this kind of place.”

“Oh, really?” He cocked an eyebrow, leaning in with that smirk that was just begging to be slapped. “I think you’re very cute, love. In fact, the cutest.”

You shook your head, scoffing as your cheeks flushed. “James, I am not cute.”

“Mm, sure.” He leaned back, crossing his arms and looking you up and down like he was challenging you. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You groaned, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response and instead busied yourself with your teacup. “No, really,” you said, setting it down with a soft clink. “I’m a Black. Black sisters don’t do cute—they do cool, mysterious, edgy.”

James snorted. “Oh, yeah, definitely edgy. When you fell down the stairs last week, that was really mysterious.”

You swatted at him across the table, your face heating up at the memory. “That was a one-time thing!”

“And when you tried to hex Snivellus and ended up accidentally hexing yourself?”

You pursed your lips. “My wand slipped.”

“Mhm. And when you spilled pumpkin juice on McGonagall?”

“I slipped again,” you mumbled, crossing your arms tighter as he dissolved into laughter.

“Oh, love,” he said, reaching over to grab your hand, his thumb tracing circles along your knuckles. “You are the cutest, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You scowled at his hand over yours but didn’t pull away. “Stop calling me cute. I’m intimidating.”

“Yes, absolutely terrifying,” he agreed, nodding seriously before cracking a smile. “I mean, look at those fierce little eyes and that tiny, scrunched-up nose. Positively horrifying.”

You sighed dramatically. “I’ll hex you if you keep this up.”

“Sure you will.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “I mean, you’ve done it so successfully before.”

You lifted your chin, doing your best impression of a dignified, aloof Black sister. “I don’t need your cheek, Potter. I am not cute.”

He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Right. So if I said, ‘Merlin, you’re adorable,’ you wouldn’t blush?”

“Exactly,” you said firmly, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Merlin, you’re adorable,” he said instantly, eyes trained on your face.

The color rushed to your cheeks faster than you could stop it. James laughed, squeezing your hand as he watched you squirm.

“You know what, Potter?” you muttered, feeling like an absolute fool.

“What’s that, darling?”

You leaned in, narrowing your eyes. “I think you’re cute.”

“Oh, now she’s trying to dish it back,” he said, beaming at you. “Sorry, but cute’s your title around here.”

You pouted, biting back a smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. It was enough to make your heart do an embarrassing little flip.

“Keep pouting, love,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “It only makes you cuter.”

You groaned, but this time you couldn’t hide the grin. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re cute.”

“Stop calling me cute,” you said, leaning forward to poke him in the chest. “Or I’ll start telling people you sleep with a stuffed lion.”

James gasped, feigning horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

“You wouldn’t expose Leonard like that,” he whispered, clutching his chest.

You blinked. “You named it?”

He colored slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well—uh—what do you expect? I’m not a monster.”

Unable to keep up the act, you burst into laughter, nearly doubling over as James turned a charming shade of pink.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing along with you. “Maybe you’re a little mean.”

You smirked. “Thank you.”

“But still cute.”

“James!”

“Sorry, love,” he said, leaning over the table to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Can’t help the truth.”

You sighed, finally giving up. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute,” he repeated cheekily. “But don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

You fought the smile that threatened to take over. “Fine. But if you call me cute one more time, I’ll tell Sirius about Leonard.”

He chuckled, resting his chin in his hands and looking at you with adoring eyes. “Worth it.”

[manatee-rp-memes]

Transformers: MTMTE Sentence Starters

~Feel free to tweak as needed~

“All good things must come to an end, if there’s one thing in life I’ve learned it’s how to say goodbye and mean it.”

“You think that just because the war is over, we can afford to stop fighting!“

“Okay, so tell me what happened- in layman’s terms, please. The fewer syllables, the better. Science makes me twitchy. Too many rules.”

“Never stand next to a quantum generator when it’s about to flout the laws of physics.“

“So, who broke the rule?”

“I’m too smart to die!”

“Either it’s very far away, or you’ve invented the world’s smallest drink.”

“Don’t say I’m irritable. It really—it really irritates me.”

“One day you’ll say something nice to me—just before you tell me I’ve got a terminal illness or something.“

“Bottom line? I’ve got nothing else to lose.”

“Wow. If I’d known that was the best you’ve got, I’d have said something genuinely offensive.”

“Nice to meet you, loser!”

“But there’s always been a war! That’s like saying there’s no more blue or—or the weather’s stopped!”

“Nothing tingles like a teleport.”

“I was aiming for the other guy…! Obviously.”

“A senseless waste, a terrible tragedy. Boo hoo.”

“He promptly beat me to the brink of fade-out and left me in a critical condition.”

“But that’s a whole other story. Sorry—I always wanted to say that. That, and ‘Impossible! Our laserfire is just making him stronger!’ Ahem. Go on…”

“Please! I surrender! Don’t shoot!”

“MUTINY! Everywhere I look I see rules being stretched and laws being broken and protocols being dragged outside and kicked to death.”

“Maybe I have been taking things too seriously. Maybe I should try and… and… whatever. There’s a word for it.”

“Course I didn’t press it… but what if I had pressed it?”

“A metafictional bomb. It blows a hole in the fourth wall.”

“I can tell you pretty emphatically that none of this – none of this even approaches my definition of ‘okay’!"

"Listen to me. NEVER. HOPE. Hope is a lie.”

“That was a nasty fall. Need a hand?”

“Get the hell out of my bar.”

“Ah, enriched nucleon…! The magic ingredient!”

"You should really stop and listen to yourself sometimes.”

“Life’s messed up. I’m messed up. I’ve done bad things and I continue to do bad things, because the voice telling me not to…? He’s not said much for a while. And y'know what keeps me going? ANGER. Anger’s an insulator. Stops life getting too close. If I got myself 'fixed,' maybe the anger would leave me—and then I really would be screwed.“

"Your life is in the palm of my hand. Before I squeeze, I offer up one last shining truth…”

“If God were on your side you’d have stopped me by now! Will anybody pit their faith against mine?”

“I know, I know—I’m incorrigible.”

“Honestly? I think for an intuitive weapon to promote long discredited notions of moral absolutism is problematic in the extreme.”

“When did you first decide that the universe needed ‘dominating’?"

"My life is a succession of decisions made in confined spaces.”

“If you want to get the measure of an author, don’t look at what they’ve left on the page…. look at what they’ve taken away.”

“Information carries weight. It’s not corporeal, but it has presence. It can be felt. It hangs in the air like—like words. Like the morning after an argument! Actually, not like that. That’s a bad analogy. I’m distracted.”

“Shut up. Stop expecting things of me.”

“The war is over and, thankfully, we lost.”

“I’m confronting my own mortality! I’m having one of those—those existential crisises!”

“'Could!' The luxury of 'could!' I’m already dead!”

“If I sit next to you too long, am I going to die of smartass poisoning?”

“There’s a thin line between categorization and segregation, and I never want to see it crossed again.”

“If the world thinks you’re a monster, what does it matter? The world is wrong. But when you start to think of yourself as a monster…”

“Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”

“Here’s a survival tip: When everyone’s lining up to make sacrifices… always get to the back of the queue.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret… I can do whatever the hell I like.”

“Maladies of the mind are easily hidden. We don’t want to see them. They remind us of our fragility.”

“You have two weapons at your disposal: your brain and your fists. You must be prepared to use both.”

"I’m fine. Bad dream, that’s all. My first flashback. These things’ll happen when you’ve got a head full of history.”

“This conversation is ridiculous. You are ridiculous. Everything that’s happened in the last few days is intensely ridiculous.”

“We’re all of us the sum of our experiences.”

“I know who I am, but I don’t necessarily know who I was. I find it hard to compare the two.”

“I want to tell you a story.”

“I’m trying to show concern. I’ve seen other people do it.”

“People don’t like me – they just laugh at my jokes. There’s a difference.”

“I hate you. As in, I actively hate you. I am in hate with you.”

“No one cares what you have to say~”

“I had a plan! Same plan as always: survive.”

“I order you to survive.”

“Nothing makes sense anymore.”

[purpleangiie]

So, I was thinking about Dick Grayson, specifically Dick Grayson's head... when he was 7 he climbed up the stairs in the circus tend to get to the trapeze but slipped and fell down [Nightwing #114] A very funny way to get your first concussion, right? Of course, many more followed over the years (that's what happens when you become Robin!) Then, in his early 20s he was shot in the head — not as fun as a concussion. Now, that alone would be enough to ban him from any dangerous sport or activity for the rest of his life, but of course, Dick Grayson is Dick Grayson, who also happens to be Nightwing. So he kept doing his usual stuff, leaping from high buildings, doing acrobatics, punching — and getting punched — every damn night... all with just his domino mask covering his face (I mean, he got a damn head injury, you would think he would be wearing some kind of head protections, right? Wrong, because that would at least partially cover his amazing curls, and to Dick Grayson that would be equal to commit war crimes, so it's out of question) And of course he keeps getting hit in the head and getting concussions. Which leads us to our scenario:

It's a usual night out patrolling, and Dick and Tim are fighting some crooks. Nothing too big, until one of them hits Dick in the head (for the nth time!) It's a good one, but not hard enough to knock out a Batkid. Except, Dick Grayson's head is slightly more fragile than his brothers’, and the punch hits the point where he was previously shot. He gasps, and everything goes black for a moment. Dick Grayson falls, head spinning violently, his vision blurring as colors and sounds fade together. He hears Tim's distant voice calling him, to which he promptly replies with an unsteady "I'm fine", except of course he's not fine. He holds himself against the wall, his face crunched in a pained grimace, trying to stand up because Tim needs him and no way he gets knocked out so easily. But Tim shouts back, punching another guy in the face, "Stay there! Don't move!" followed by some swearing because dammit, Dick!

When the bad guys are fixed, Tim rushes to Dick, who is still miraculously awake.

"Jeez, you're bleeding."

"Am I? I didn’t realize it."

"Yeah..." Tim holds two fingers up. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Dick smirks. "I'd say three, but there’s four of you now, so maybe a couple more?"

There's a moment of silence. Tim sighs. He opens the comms.

"Red Robin here, I'm taking Nightwing back in. He's injured. It'd only be dangerous for him to keep patrolling."

Bruce's steady voice croaks in their ears. "Copy, Red Robin. What happened?"

And Dick, leaning against his brother as they reach the batmobile, darts a pleading look at him. It's almost working, until Tim speaks again over the comms: "He got hit in the head."

And all the Bats know what that means. A chorus of sighs raises:

"Again?!"

"You never learn, hm?"

"Is he unconscious? Do you need backup?"

"You're incorrigible!"

"Please, just take my helmet next time. I'd paint it blue if you want, but take it! — I have an entire stock at home, anyway."

And Dick, stumbling with his eyes half-closed and one of the worst migraine of his life, just smiles sheepishly. "Sorry!" he manages to crack over the comms as Tim rolls his eyes next to him.

[kiskisur]

This might be a long one but hear me out…

Xiao x m!adeptus!reader

Xiao angst where we were an adeptus that went missing during the cataclysm. Xiao misses us deeply but after all these years is starting to slowly forget our facial features. 🙈 Andddd maybeeee we come back and he takes a while to recognize us.

Ty and have a nice day! 💟

ᝰ.ᐟ you know I can't fight the feeling.

warnings: angst with comfort, adeptus!male reader x xiao, he/him pronouns for [name] (you!) (sorry huhu it helps me improve my writing but I'll try in a 2nd POV maybe? ^^), reader goes missing for hundreds of years.

note: I'm so sorry it took long!! I was resting from. school but here you gooo~ I enjoyed it!!

In the heart of Liyue, where the sunlight dances on the water, [name] and Xiao found themselves in a rare moment of tranquility.

[name] grinned playfully, nudging Xiao with his elbow. "Hey, you with the brooding expression. You know, you've got this whole mysterious aura going on."

Xiao rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of a smile. "I'm not trying to be mysterious. It's just... who I am."

[name] chuckled, leaning in as if he had a juicy secret to share. "Well, lucky for you, I'm the only one who gets to see through that 'mysterious' façade of yours."

Xiao raised an eyebrow, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity in his gaze. "Oh, really? And how exactly do you manage that?"

[name]'s eyes twinkled mischievously. "Simple. I see the Xiao who loves dandelion seeds flying in the wind, the one who secretly enjoys the good I make when he thinks no one's watching."

A faint blush colored Xiao's cheeks, but he crossed his arms in mock defense. "You're making things up."

[Name] pouted dramatically, feigning offense. "Hey now, I thought you'd be happy that I pay attention to these things."

Xiao's resistance finally crumbled, and he couldn't suppress a laugh. "[Name], you're unbelievable."

"That's why you love me," [name] teased, his tone turning softer.

Xiao's gaze softened as he looked at [name]. "Yeah, I do."

[name] beamed, his heart practically radiating with joy. "So, my dandelion-loving, enjoying-my-food Xiao, what's been on your mind lately?"

Xiao sighed, his expression turning more serious. "It's just...I've lived for so long, seen so much. Sometimes, the weight of time feels overwhelming."

[name] reached for Xiao's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I get it, Xiao. But remember, I'm here. We're in this together. And even when you feel like time is dragging you down, I'll be here to lift you up."

Xiao's eyes softened further, gratitude shining in his gaze. "You always know what to say."

[name] winked. "That's because I pay attention to my enigmatic, dandelion-loving boyfriend."

Xiao shook his head, unable to suppress his smile any longer. "You're incorrigible."

"But you love me for it," [name] said with a wink, pulling Xiao into a warm embrace.

One day, though, [name] disappeared. Poof. Just gone. Without a single word, leaving Xiao in a state of shock. Imagine, someone who was always in your space suddenly vanishing like an elusive treasure.

Fast forward through countless sunrises and sunsets, and Xiao's demeanor had changed. He became colder than a Cryo user in the middle of a snowstorm. The once-expressive man turned into a stoic figure, his laughter a rare occurrence, and his interactions minimal.

It's like [name]'s absence took a piece of his soul. You could see him staring into the distance, his eyes clouded with a mixture of sadness and longing. And those dandelion seeds he used to love? Well, they now seemed to remind him of [name], so they got the cold shoulder too.

Time passed. Centuries flowed by like a fast-forwarded play, and the memory of [name] started to blur like a vivid dream upon waking. Xiao's chest ached at the thought that he was forgetting [name]'s laugh, their quirky habits, and even the way their hand fit perfectly in his.

One day, he stood by the Liyue harbor, gazing out at the waves, and a wave of panic washed over him. [name] was slipping away from his mind, and he couldn't stop it. Every detail, every laugh, every touch – they were all fading, and Xiao felt like he was losing [name] all over again.

Zhongli, always the wise one, tried to console him. "Xiao, memories may fade, but the emotions you shared are timeless."

Xiao's gaze was distant, lost in the past. "How can I move on from someone I loved for hundreds of years? It's like letting go of a part of myself."

But then, a day that felt like an echo from history happened. [name] stood before him, as if time had bowed to their love. Xiao's jaw dropped, eyes wide like a Geo traveler who just found a rare artifact.

"[Name]?" he gasped, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

[name]'s grin was familiar, the twinkle in his eyes undiminished. "I told you I'd find my way back."

And in that moment, the years melted away, the pain dissolved, and time seemed irrelevant. Xiao rushed forward, unable to hold back his tears, his emotions like a flood bursting through a dam.

"[Name], I... I thought I'd lost you forever," he stammered, voice quivering.

[name] pulled him into a tight embrace, his warmth a reminder that they were real, that they were here. "I'm here now, Xiao. And I'm not going anywhere."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the centuries seemed like a distant memory. The forgotten memories resurfaced, the laughter echoed like a long-lost melody, and their love, well, it was stronger than ever. Time might have tried to erase their story, but it had failed, because in the end, love was the ultimate conqueror.

ᝰ.ᐟ and every night I feel it right now, I wish you were here with me.

[tenderlyrenjun]

Playing Video Games

"Jisung, this is so difficult," you huff, tossing the control on the couch, narrowly avoiding his face.

Your boyfriend rotates his head 90-degrees on your lap, backwards, to look up at the deep frown settling in your eyebrows.

"I don't understand why you like it" you pout, sinking deeper into the cushions.

Jisung laughs (and you frown deeper) and grabs the controller before sitting up with you. "It's the thrill of the game, baby." He takes both your hands in his and adjusts them neatly across the joysticks. You wiggle them under his fingers, clacking them loudly until he laughs again. "See, you know how to move them. You just have to get the timing right."

"You just have to get the timing right," you mock, with an exaggeratedly high pitch that doesn't quiet match your boyfriend’s deep voice. You sigh and let the controller drop into your lap again as you bury your face in his firm chest. "Can't we do something else? I'm sorry for making you die in Wizard 101 last night, okay? Next time l'll patiently wait for you to fuck me in your bed after your tournaments."

Jisung laughs once more at you, the entire sound vibrating through his heartbeat, shaking you out of his arms. "First of all, baby, it was Overwatch." He squishes your cheeks in both hands. "And second, this is just me showing you something that I like - not Overwatch, but it's something I think is fun."

You scrunch your nose. "Now I feel bad for making fun of it." You slap his hands off your face. "How am I supposed to know the difference between Overwatch and Wizard 101? Are they the same thing?"

Jisung gasps. "Baby. I love you,” he says, almost as if reminding himself. He picks up your hands and stares into your eyes. "Please don't make us go through computer games tonight too. I don’t think we’d be able to sleep.”

And you snatch your hands back too, rolling your eyes to the ceiling.

"Jisung, I'm serious," you whine, drawing out the last syllable. “I don't get why you like these games."

"Remember when we had sex in my car?"

"What does that have to do with anything??"

Jisung kisses your knuckles. "Babe, please."

You roll your eyes again. Incorrigible. "Yes, I remember every time we've had sex in your new car since you bought it this year."

"’Cause it’s fun!" he reminds you. "It's like a video game." he emphasizes. "We're sneaking around and getting the adrenaline pumping."

"I get that" you tell him, "but I know how to have sex with you." You point at the TV. "I don't know how to play first person shooter games."

"Maybe, you're just not getting enough adrenaline."

"What is that supposed to mean - Park Jisung!" you gasp.

Jisung situates himself on the ground between your legs, his large hands pushing open your thighs. He gets your underwear off your ankles, leaving you in just a t-shirt and restrictive bra. Your breathing labors, just watching him, as he runs all his fingers up and down your pussy. His middle finger barely strokes from your clit to hole, leaving phantom feelings in its wake.

“Jisung, love, what - what are you doing?”

He puts one of your knees on his broad shoulder. Instinctively, you tighten behind his neck, dragging him forward.

“Giving you a little adrenaline,” he says with a boyish smile. Jisung gently pushes your other thigh more open and situates himself a little taller, breath exhaling through his nose onto your nerves. He really does have a perfect nose, perfect face - perfect lips that kiss and bite and pull at your clit, all so gently. You scratch your way into his bangs, brushing back all his hair until you can fist his crown. But he stops you. He pecks your wet pussy airily, giving you suction-less pressure before looking up at you with that same boyish smile. “Grab the controller.”

“Huh? What?” You close both your legs around his cheeks. “Jisung, you can’t be serious.” He just smiles at you, eyes sparkling like Puss in Boots. And you groan, picking it off the cushion. “What now?”

“Now”, he emphasizes, unzipping his own hoodie to show off his defined chest and yanking your hips to the edge of the couch, “you play the game.” He slips his third finger inside your hole, ring and all, knuckles hitting your lips. “You’ll see why I like you giving me head during my games, baby.” He wetly kisses your clit and slips in his middle finger as the video game music picks up.

You throw your head on the couch, shutting your eyes at the ceiling for a second. His two fingers find a steady pace, gradually sheathing all the way inside. And when he does, Jisung twists his wrist ceiling-side up, and chafes your roof with the pads of his fingers.

“Baby, you’re gonna die.”

“Huh?”

Jisung rubs your hip with his free hand and lifts off your cunt with a smack of his lips. “In the game, baby. You’re gonna die in the game.”

"Jisungie," you pout. There are so many better things to be doing right now, at this pressing moment.

"Come on, baby." Jisung mouths your pussy, hot breath evilly replacing his tongue. "You'll like it, promise. Just try. You’ll see why I like it.”

And see, you do.

You hate that he's right. Only a little though, because you make him swear that you will cum by the end of the round. He just smirked at you, saying something about how he wins entire tournaments before you even finish.

Jisung balances between directing you through the first campaign and fingering you. His words breathing hotly down your ear. He moved you onto your stomach sometime between your second respawn and your first orgasm, finding it difficult to help you win from the ground.

"Baby," he grunts, shallowly thrusting to get your attention. Jisung straddles behind your hips, pushing your ass cheeks up for a better view of your cunt taking him so well. “You have - you have to hide around the corner. There’s a chest there, too, and - shit, stop clenching, you need to heal.”

Your character runs in circles, almost glitching the game as your thumbs toy with the joysticks, simply flicking them back and forth. “Jiji,” you whine again, mouth parted. You pause the game and drop your forehead onto your arms. “Can I cum first? Please? I’ve already done so much. I think I’m better at the game now.” Or you would be, if you could focus. Though, now, you understand why he skips out on the winners' ceremonies and literally throws you on his bed; he is never really, otherwise, so rough with you.

"Just a little more, baby," he shakes his head. "You're so close to the end."

"I'm so close to cumming."

You bury your face in the cushions and dip your back a bit lower to push his dick further inside your pussy. Jisung only really has one thing to focus on right now: you. He guides you through the game, noting every detail about your game and body, telling you where to go and how to react. But it's hard. It's more difficult than when you first started - sitting on the couch with his head in your lap. He would kiss your knee every time you missed a shot or give you a slight praise whenever you respawned. And he keeps it up, while fucking you.

Jisung plants his fists close to your hips. He leans down to your ear, gently biting the helix before whispering, in his deep, raspy voice, "Pick up the game, baby. You're. Almost. There, fuck." He punctures every syllable with an inch of his dick until all of him rests inside you again.

"Jisung," you sniffle. "I'm gonna cry, please just let me cum."

He only smirks, pulling out slightly. "Cute."

Ugh. You groan into your wrists, biting superficially into the bone. Your boyfriend - the freak - would probably enjoy that - you crying, and you know he has no problem withholding those sharp dancer moves. So, you listen and obey, and pick up the damn PlayStation controller.

As you restart the game, someone steals the first aid chest that Jisung told you to grab, eliciting a snarky 'I told you so' in your ear and forcing you to endure the rest of the game on quarter health. You run around random buildings, biting your lip to not moan too loudly and ruin your own concentration. But still, you can feel your heart rate beat erratically and your cunt abrade the dip in the couch cushion. And fuck, he's right. Jisung is right. Each time you narrowly dodge an attack or finally make your own kill, your entire body tingles; your pussy throbs; your nipples get more sensitive, regardless of what Jisung does - not to say that he doesn't do much.

Your boyfriend steadily pounds your cunt, grinding his pelvis on your ass each time. His balls somehow sneak under your thighs, hitting your clit at each thrust. And he gets as affected by the game as you do. Often, when you are the one on your knees, under his gaming desk, Jisung will accidentally bang his thigh on the keyboard drawer, followed both by rapid clicking and shoving his cock deeper down your throat. You only partially understood it, that he wanted the game over as soon as possible to fuck you for being needy and impatient. But this shows you a whole other side. The urgency and thrill mix together, prompting you to find the metaphorical finish line. It's like a test of patience, and wow, your boyfriend has a lot.

You narrowly miss the last shots at your character and run through a nearby checkpoint, before throwing the controller on a decorative ottoman.

"Good job, baby," Jisung praises.

You quickly push him against the backrest, sinking down completely on his cock cowgirl style. He watches you with pretty eyes, lips parted slightly, waiting for you to fuck him the exact way he fucks you after his games. You grab his neck kiss him breathlessly.

"Oh, I am going to fuck you so hard tonight, Park Jisung."

You can feel him smirk.

“Wanna make it a game?”

[goponylover]

Jon Sims and Arthur Lester: On Sight

Scene: Jonathan Sims and Arthur Lester are sitting across from one another at a plain wooden table, having tea and pleasant conversation. Jon puts his cup down and leans forward a bit in his chair as he prepares to breach a new topic.

Jon: Arthur...if it's alright, may I ask you a...somewhat personal question?

Arthur: I suppose that depends on what it is.

John: He's looking down at his teacup pensively, as if hesitating.

Jon: ...What is it like? Not being able to see?

Silence. Arthur is taken aback.

Jon: ...Actually, forget I said anything. That was too personal. I don't know why I asked that. I-

Arthur: No, no! It's fine! Jonathan it's fine! I understand that My John and I have a very...unique relationship. It's only natural you'd be curious!

John: Nosy, you mean.

Arthur: (hisses) Be nice.

Jon: Sorry?

Arthur: Nothing. A-as for your question...it was scary at first. It's still scary sometimes, given how frequently we have to run or hide or fight for our very lives while one of us is, quite literally, stumbling around in the dark. John guides me, tells me where obstacles are, alerts me of threats and helps me to combat them. He'll describe my surroundings to me so that I can get a sort of...mental map of the place I'm in. Sometimes I'll ask him to describe the scenery we drive past or the clothes hanging in the shop windows, little things like that. And usually he's happy to oblige...when he's in a good mood at least.

John: Hey!

Arthur: Of course it's not exactly the same and it's often frustrating for both of us when we fail to communicate properly. Especially when we end up in tight spots because of it. But honestly...I don’t know how people like me would manage without a John of their own in their heads.

John: Don't sell yourself short. You've been without me before, and you managed just fine.

Jon: What's he saying?

Arthur: Hmm?

Jon: You tend to...pause at odd moments when he's saying something to you.

Arthur: Heh. You're quite observant, aren't you?

Jon: (uncomfortably) It comes with the territory.

Arthur: (bashfully) H-he was just...complimenting me. Saying I've been without him before and I managed which I suppose is true.

John: You suppose?! You dragged yourself through the freezing cold to a cabin, while blind and bleeding from the neck. Fuck off, you suppose.

Arthur: (Ducks his head and whispers) Shut up!

John: (teasingly): Now who can't take a compliment?

Arthur: (shakes his head) All of this is to say...I'm very lucky to have him.

Jon: I see. Well I'm glad you two have each other. I don't know what would become of me if it weren't for Martin.

Arthur: (Hums in agreement) ...If I may ask...what sparked your curiosity?

John: His eyes are widening and he looks...embarrassed? As if you've somehow seen something you weren't supposed to see...

Jon: (sputters a bit) I- w-well it's interesting isn't it? Like you said! Your...symbiosis.

Arthur: I don't disagree. But we've discussed the subject of My John several times and you've never really focused on the topic of my blindness before.

John: I think I like that. You calling me YOUR John~

Arthur: (Chuckles softly) You're incorrigible.

Jon: (latching on) W-whats he saying now?

Arthur: Wha? Nothing, its- nothing. Jonathan, your deflecting.

Jon: I am not.

Arthur: I'm simply wondering what made you want to know more about my blindness. (Suspicious) What are you so desperate to hide all of a sudden?

John: He's hesitating...he's sighing. His shoulders are sagging as if in reluctant defeat. He's scooting the chair a bit closer to the table and leaning in.

Jon: ...I've told you of my time working at the Magnus Institute.

Arthur: Yes. I remember. Where you and your colleagues sadly fell under the influence of the dark gods that seized you.

Jon: I...I discovered a way to separate myself and the others from the Eye.

Arthur: You did?!

Jon: Yes. But at great cost. To separate yourself from the Ceaseless Watcher...you must completely destroy your own eyes.

Arthur: Jesus...

John: Fuck.

Jon: ...I didn't...I didn't want to do it alone so I ran to tell Martin. Him first before any of the others. I...I said we could get out of there. Together. Long story short, he refused. ...I don’t know if it would've worked on me. I was at the point where I couldn't even cut off a finger without it healing the second I removed the knife but...I could've tried. I should have tried. If it had worked, if I hadn't been so selfish-

John: Selfish? The fuck?!

Jon: -so much pain and death could've been avoided! But a million things held me back. Part of me told myself that it was because I didn't want to just run off and leave Martin and the others alone in that place but...but what if I was just lying to myself? What if I was just being a coward?

John: ...He's slumped in his chair. His eyes are focused on the far wall, clouded with shame. He's tense...as if bracing himself for something?

Arthur takes a moment to gather himself, struggling to piece his racing thoughts together into something coherent.

Arthur: Jonathan...you're not a coward for not wanting to lose your sight!

Jon: But-!

Arthur: Listen to me. I love my John and I love what we have and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world but...but I still miss my sight. I miss it everyday. I miss being able to walk down the street unassisted, I miss the simple joy of being able to look at painting o-or watch a sunset instead of having it described to me and picturing it in my head! I miss... I miss being able to see my own face in a mirror. Heh...you know, sometimes I wonder how distorted my memory of my own face will grow with time. I wonder...will it fade altogether, one day?

John: (determined) I won't let it.

John raises his hand to cup Arthur's face gently. Arthur leans into the touch briefly.

Arthur: (fondly) I know you won't, dear.

Arthur: What I'm trying to say is...our eyes are a gift, Jonathan. A gift that we so often take for granted. Not wanting to lose them does not make you selfish nor cowardly. It makes you...

Arthur & John simultaneously: Human.

John: He looks...surprised. And maybe a little grateful.

Jon: ...I...T-thank you, Arthur I...I don’t know what to say.

Arthur: You don’t have to say anything. I've been in your shoes, Mr. Sims. We are both men that have committed a great number of sins. But those sins are not who we are.  Try to remember that.

John: He's smiling.

Jon: I will.

[tonightweroam]

Glitchtrap grinned as he watched the human's face flush a frankly adorable shade of red. And now he was averting his eyes. Poor thing; the rabbit virus figured he probably didn't get to speak to attractive people often. A shame too, he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.

At the statement about purging the control systems, Glitchtrap raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey now, let's not be hasty. I've been stuck inside of a stuffy little VR game for far too long, and I'm reeeeally not keen on going back to that. Both of the beta testers I met were real sticks in the mud, and nowhere near as good-looking. C'mon, let me stick around a while? I promise I'll be a good bunny~"

He winked at the human, wiggling his hips playfully. When inquired as to who had installed him, he let out a soft sigh. "Well, if you're really that determined to know, then it was the last girl who managed to get her hands on the game I was stuck in. Blonde hair, don't remember her name." He shrugged. "Started with a V, I think. She wasn't my type anyway. I'm as straight as a rainbow!" He giggled to himself. "You, on the other hand..." He leaned in again, purring out a playful, "Rawr~ Makes me wish I had a physical body so I could feel how warm and soft you are."

{CONT. || @tonightweroam}

...cute?

The realization that he's being flirted with (that has to be what's happening, right?) is almost as startling as discovering this program in the first place. It's clearly advanced in ways he doesn't understand, outfitted with a personality not unlike the animatronics themselves.

If security weren't his direct responsibility, Steven would be about the least qualified person he can think of to handle potentially-dangerous software that's been programmed to fluster people.

Face flushed with embarrassment, Bell looks anywhere but at the not-Bonnie. Thrown off entirely by the rabbit's unexpected approach, it takes Steven a moment to remember that he's supposed to be righteously indignant about this systems breach.

"I'm going to have to purge the control systems if you're not supposed to be here." Why is he talking to this thing like it's a person? He must be spending too much time around the Glamrocks.

"So if I were you, uh... look, just tell me who installed you so I don't have to delete you." It seems advanced enough that it wouldn't "want" to be removed.

"I just need to know if you're a new test replacement for our Bonnie, or if you're some hacker's idea of a joke."

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-15 continued #2

(Previous post - current page 631)

I should keep it at three liveblog posts at most per day for pacing purposes, so however long this post ends up being (which could still be pretty long, image limit forgiving!), this'll be where I stop it for the day whatever happens so I don't push my mental energy reserves too hard. Now let's see exactly what the fuck Jane was referring to here.

(==>)

JANE: I'm referring to his death. DIRK: (Oh, what the fuck.) JANE: Not saying it's all your fault. DIRK: (Wow.)

Oh that's all SORTS of messed up for her to think.

JANE: Dirk just never *got* you. JANE: He thought he could figure you out, make all the right moves, and you'd be happy. JANE: But people have to want themselves to be happy. JANE: And the only thing you've ever consistently wanted was to be absolved. JANE: I understand that now.

She's not ENTIRELY wrong about Jake's insecurities here, but there were people constantly KNOCKING HIM DOWN by BLAMING HIM FOR THINGS that he then helplessly thought DESERVED his absolution when they were NEVER HIS FAULT, and this couldn't be a more obvious example. Which Jake might fucking recognize and snap the fuck at.

JAKE: ... And? JANE: And I accept you, Jake! JANE: That's why I have confidence our union will endure forever. JANE: You release me of all my doubts. And I can't be disappointed by you. JAKE: Huh... DIRK: (Hm.)

I think Jake isn't coming around to Jane here, really, but actually coming around to HOW FUCKED UP she is, and more importantly, HOW SHE FUCKED HIM UP. The idea that Jane Crocker, never once, actually BELIEVED in him other than believing that he would be OBLIGATED to come back to her, even if she wasn't offering really anything in return in their relationship. He finally got it through his thick head that she was always taking him for granted, isn't he? That even her deepest, most "caring" feelings left for him are pity for someone she's viewed for the longest time as incorrigibly pathetic and not useful for anything except coming back to her?

JANE: I... JANE: Oh, fucking... pixie sticks. JANE: I have to leave for the bridge. JANE: The enemy is moving into position as we speak. JAKE: Do you... JAKE: Do you still need that water tested? JANE: Haha, no. JANE: I drank it all in my hysterics without even noticing. JAKE: And youre okay? JANE: Completely fine! It really was just... water. JAKE: I had hoped! JANE: Hoo hoo, thank you. :B JANE: ...

I don't know if Jake is really feeling sympathy or negative revelation about her, here... or possibly a combination of the two.

JANE: Listen, Jake. JANE: I won't be able to really talk for some time once this whole final battle shebang kicks off, but I need you to know. JANE: I am sorry. JANE: For a lot of things. JANE: I promise. JANE: I just need you to believe in me a little while longer. JAKE: Of course janey... of course. JAKE: I... love you. JANE: I know, J. JANE: I know.

No... you finally proved to him that you're not WORTH BELIEVING IN.

That's what I think he's about to discuss with himself (and BGD).

(Jake: Calmly assess the situation.)

PFFFFF OMG AFTER THAT LINK TITLE XD

JAKE: Fuck!!! JAKE: Why did she have to go and build a moon laser!!! JAKE: Why did she have to go and JAKE: And SAY all that!!!

Hearing her open up with heartfelt feelings, towards HIM, for the first time in what feels like forever, likely has him so conflicted now even though he KNOWS what has to happen.

DIRK: It's not over. DIRK: That moon laser doesn't mean shit. JAKE: ...if theres no one to press the button? DIRK: Boom. DIRK: Or, you know. DIRK: No boom. JAKE: Her guard is down... DIRK: And you have a gun. JAKE: I have TWO guns. DIRK: Let's be real, this wouldn't even be the first time you've thought of it. JAKE: Its... an option.

He hasn't thought of going after the laser ITSELF yet, but he needs to remember he's a God-Tier Hero of Hope and that destroying a moon laser is a whole lot easier than destroying the woman he still feels something for. He'll come around in this conversation, likely.

DIRK: Or. DIRK: You help her win the battle. DIRK: Avoid baptizing the Earth with laser-fire. DIRK: And she uses The Point, and the world doesn't end. DIRK: Probably. DIRK: Who the fuck knows. JAKE: What should i do? DIRK: I'm not gonna tell you.

Even though he's talking to Dirk, he's also still in a sense only talking to himself.

JAKE: I already know youll want me to do whats heroic. JAKE: But you wouldnt want me to kill jane either. JAKE: Would you? DIRK: Stop staring at me like I'm gonna tongue-kiss the answer into you, dude. DIRK: You know what you need to do. JAKE: But jane was right about me! JAKE: I cant be trusted. JAKE: I dont even like 99% of people. DIRK: Then do it for one person. DIRK: Aren't you tired of spreading yourself thin trying to believe in everything? DIRK: Because it's looking pretty fuckin' likely that the future where Tavvy is happy and the future where Jane is alive don't coincide. DIRK: You have to kill one for the other to survive.

Now THIS is Rage talk from Dirk here. This isn't HOPE talk. Jake is going to realize that there's hope for BOTH people he cares about to survive... and all he has to do is think of flying into space and destroying a freakin' moon laser. The Page of Hope come into his role is going to be someone who can find a path of possibility that saves what they care about without Dirk's brand of brutal compromise.

JAKE: It sounds like youre gunning for her. DIRK: It sounds like *you're* gunning for her. DIRK: Say what you will about Dirk, but he always wanted you to be your best self. DIRK: He pushed you hoping if he did it hard enough, you'd push back. DIRK: That's a far cry from whatever neutered domestic purgatory Jane's offering you. DIRK: Wasn't it nice to be believed in, man? JAKE: Ugh.

Dirk was never good for him either, and didn't know the right way TO help Jake become his best self other than inflicting cuts to his soul that only delayed and decreased his capacity to believe in himself.

JAKE: Can i make an honest query? JAKE: Did i really kill him? DIRK: Hm. JAKE: I did, didnt i? DIRK: Common sense says no. JAKE: Cant you swing that one by your esoteric telepathic dirk connection? DIRK: That's a tricky fuckin' wicket, man. JAKE: Its "sticky wicket". DIRK: It's nothing, because that's a stupid fucking phrase cooked up by fake people about a fake sport from a dead planet. DIRK: Anyway, it's tricky because there's not really all that much of anything left of the big man. DIRK: Not here, anyway. JAKE: Oh, baloney! JAKE: Thats not how this works. Youre the supernatural tsaheylu of our combined "steezes". JAKE: This isnt my first ride in the rodeo, mister, I KNOW THE RHYTHM OF THIS BUCKING BRONCO. JAKE: HES STILL HERE, DAMMIT! DIRK: I'm sorry.

Given what we saw with alt!Calliope / AL splitting and reforming, it's indeed likely that he ISN'T still here, that he's practically fully consolidated himself into Ultimate Dirk aside from this leftover memory Jake is keeping just barely alive. But we also know that thanks to his narrative powers, and his immediate response in the bonus material to Yiffy's sudden existence in the (Candy) plot, that part of him is at least AWARE of that plotline and some of what's happening outside of Canon, even if he's too far away to influence it.

This is also likely about Jake accepting Dirk's death and moving on, though. Because Dirk's eliminationist "one or the other, but not both" advice and insistence on sacrifice isn't what he needs right now.

Maybe it's time for Brain Ghost Dirk to disappear?

(==>)

DIRK: He's gone, dude.

Oh damn, the eyes. It's exactly as he said: This Candy timeline's Brain Ghost Dirk was always just a part of Jake. Just the memory of his friend alive within him, him talking to himself.

Jake has to accept his friend's death to move past his brand of advice, the advice he counted on of a friend who was in ways toxic to him and couldn't lead him to true Hope.

JAKE: OH FUCK OFF. JAKE: YOU CHARLATAN. DIRK: Yeah. JAKE: HORSES ASS. DIRK: Get it all out, man. JAKE: YOU MALEVOLENT MASCULINE MALFEASANT. DIRK: I know a crisp glass of personal culpability isn't what you ordered, but hey. DIRK: It's better than relapsing.

You did pick a hell of a time to show him this, but you probably picked the right time, at least.

DIRK: It'd be the only reasonable excuse you'd have for nipping this uncomfortable epiphany in the bud so you could slink back to following orders from Dirk. JAKE: ... JAKE: Gods hooks, i backflipped right into my old ways! DIRK: Don't beat yourself up about it. It's a running theme with literally everybody we know. DIRK: You all get caught up in these feeling jams, hugging it out in self-realizational bliss. DIRK: Then, bam. DIRK: Premature ejaculation. DIRK: That passionate growth grind ends before it builds to anything actually satisfying. JAKE: :(

Jake needs to stop imagining there's someone telling him what to do anymore, and decide for himself, saying goodbye to his ghostly imaginary guide he made for himself with his powers. (Also Dirk's metaphors are always gonna Dirk, even when Jake's just imitating them.)

DIRK: You're fully dressed Jake now. DIRK: Sitting on the sticky floor of a custodial closet, hidden away from anything certain and good in this world. DIRK: Alone. JAKE: This is scary! I dont like this. DIRK: Fuck yeah it is. This is sweaty, achey, burning transformation, brother. JAKE: I want to go back! I want to be the other guy again. DIRK: You can't be the other guy anymore, Jake. DIRK: We're sending him upstate to live on a beautiful farm, where they're gonna immediately drag him out back and put him out of his fucking misery. DIRK: Remember when you told Egbert you wanted someone to hold you accountable? JAKE: No. DIRK: Well. JAKE: Nooooooo. DIRK: "Here's Johnny!" JAKE: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! JAKE: Oh... JAKE: *sniff* JAKE: Oh, dirk...

Finally accepting his friend's death AND his need to act for himself instead of being told what to do isn't an easy thing to do all at once.

JAKE: Cripes, if there really is no magical component to all of this, JAKE: if youre really gone, JAKE: then i am simply a forty year old man... being led by the nose... by an imaginary friend. JAKE: That is not cute. DIRK: It's kind of cute. JAKE: No! JAKE: Its mental illness! DIRK: It can be both.

And you DO have literal godly magic powers helping you do it, if you've forgotten, Jake.

DIRK: Look. DIRK: What you need to do is stop sobbing into your own fucking arms and make a decision. DIRK: Spying for the rebellion, running away... these were steps in the right direction, but they also had, y'know. JAKE: Plausible deniability. DIRK: They were deflections. DIRK: And at the end of the day, that's what choosing Jane would be, too. JAKE: Its odd, but... JAKE: Shucks, i dont want to cut her down right before she makes this big turnaround. JAKE: If shed decided to keep her promise... JAKE: thatd be bitter fucking berries to live with. DIRK: But? JAKE: But she probably wont change, will she? DIRK: Why in the fuck would she? DIRK: She'll have won.

But that also doesn't mean you NEED to kill her. There's a path to Hope that you haven't seen yet and that Dirk can't help you see. (Destroy the space laser destroy the space laser destroy the space laser. FIGURE IT OUT)

(==>)

JAKE: But... i dont think she was meant to be this way. Do you? DIRK: Like, was she born to be a wildly racist dictatorial cake boss? JAKE: Ok, when you put it that way it sounds a bit bonkers. JAKE: What i mean is... JAKE: Take me, for example. JAKE: I know its not my fault janey got a bit rough and tumble with our relationship. That fundamentally, i didnt deserve it. JAKE: But that doesnt exactly make me a mensch by default, does it? JAKE: In fact i worry there might be more of me thats, well... inherently bad than not. JAKE: And thats why everything tends to get so furiously fucked all the time! JAKE: Everyone is waiting around for this better version of me to pop up, but thats never going to happen. JAKE: Because if it did, it wouldn't be me anymore. DIRK: So, are you trapped being Mr. Pissy Pantyloos Loser Man no matter what? JAKE: Sort of. JAKE: What do you think? DIRK: I don't know. DIRK: Maybe? JAKE: Oh...

You have a bit too much trauma that you haven't had any opportunity to heal from to TRULY come into your FULL potential as a Page of Hope, but that doesn't mean you still don't have a lot of power and potential you're still sitting on, only trapped by yourself and your past. All you need to think of is that one key hopeful idea and have the will to use your power for something serious, right now.

DIRK: Here's what we do know: when you face our friends tomorrow, they're gonna be none-the-wiser about the insane masturbatory matrix bullet time battles you've been having with yourself in your own head. DIRK: What will be real to them is what you DID. DIRK: That's it. DIRK: Show them you're trying. DIRK: Or don't, and get left behind. JAKE: Good god... JAKE: This is the worst pep talk... ever. DIRK: It's you, dude, what did you expect? JAKE: True.

It's not all that bad a pep talk, to be honest.

DIRK: Do you want to be left behind? JAKE: No! JAKE: I want to see tavvy grow up! JAKE: I want to choose him! JAKE: But i want to believe in jane too... DIRK: Sigh. JAKE: Listen. JAKE: I never really understood all that much of the "doomed timeline" hoopla you cerebral types tend to gab on about. JAKE: But... its nice to think that there might be countless janes somewhere out there who never stopped being happy. JAKE: Baking, getting up to all manner of lighthearted mischiefs... true blue all around. JAKE: When i think of her, thats whats real to me. JAKE: What she is now, what these rotten unenviable circumstances have made of her, its all just... DIRK: Happenstance. JAKE: Is that stupid? DIRK: Probably, but you're a god of Hope. DIRK: You're a poster-child for making stupid shit feasible. DIRK: And no one has the power to say what's true for every Jane. DIRK: I'm sure if you asked a couple of them how they feel about labor camps and domestic violences, they'd hit you with a "Woah there, buster jones." JAKE: "Thats not for me!" DIRK: "No siree!" JAKE: Hehehe. JAKE: Exactly.

I'm so glad that in some of the bonus material, Jasprosesprite^2 is playing the capricious fantasy psychologist and was on the path last i left off to helping Jane realize that there was a better answer than ruling over the planet herself-- leaving the Agency of Earth C in the hands of the children they'd raised to take it over, because Earth C is something they helped make together but not something they OWN or should command, or would be the best suited to govern.

JAKE: If i can believe in those janes, JAKE: i think i can let this one go. DIRK: Extravagant hoops to stumble through just to keep believing, man. DIRK: It's sneaky. I like it.

Oh, COME ON, can't you just fly into space and kill the Moon Laser instead? It's obvious!!! Still, big move of you (and I agree that this Jane is almost certainly too far gone).

(==>)

JAKE: Its decided then? DIRK: Seems so. DIRK: You can finally leave the closet. JAKE: Har, har.

OH COME ON DON'T JUST FLASH OVER THERE I WANT TO SEE WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH YIFFY!!!!!!!!!

Also it looks like Yiffy might NOT have been setting things on fire, and that the red flashing may just have been the battle alert they received, plus Vrissy's reaction at seeing Yiffy for the first time.

JAKE: Goofs aside, old buddy... JAKE: I get the strange sense i wont be speaking with you again. DIRK: You won't. Why would you? DIRK: You're normal now. JAKE: But- DIRK: You don't need him. JAKE: It feels good to pretend, though. JAKE: To hold on a little while longer. DIRK: Don't. JAKE: Fine! Fine... JAKE: Hope is the crummiest aspect of the lot, huh. JAKE: I swear the only time its worth a lick more than delusions and hot air JAKE: is if it really fucking hurts. DIRK: Welcome to being a person, Jake English.

Hope is incredibly important if you can find a path through that nobody else can, instead of letting the breadth of possibility paralyze you with indecision. (STOP THE MOON LASER INSTEAD OF ATTACKING JANE YOU WON'T WIN THAT WAY)

(Page of Hope: Rise up.)

What a hilariously yet perfectly understated panel for that title!

(John and Vriska: Touch down.)

JOHN: whew! JOHN: that was quite the race. VRISKA: Race? VRISKA: C'mon. VRISKA: That was 8arely a warm-up! JOHN: jeez. JOHN: i guess i'm out of shape. JOHN: i didn't even know you could BE out of shape with magical floating powers... VRISKA: Well, that's what sitting around like a depressing 8oring loser for sweeps gets you! VRISKA: You'll just have to get 8ack IN shape. JOHN: man, i guess so.

If he really turned on the Windy Thing powers he probably could have blown through them and outraced her, but he'd need to believe in himself a little harder and be a bit more confident for that, and he's not QUITE there yet-- not as far gone as Jake was though.

JOHN: hey, now that i've got you here, why did you lead us directly to the meteor? JOHN: we did both kind of mutually mention that there was a transportalizer pretty much directly to the lab in roxy's house, right? VRISKA: Sure. And? JOHN: well i just think maybe it might've been a little less risky to go that way, instead of weaving through battle ships and cross fire and all that war junk. VRISKA: Less risky, may8e, 8ut also wayyyyyyyy less fun. VRISKA: C'mon, wasn't it a pretty sweet joyride? VRISKA: It's nice to give the ol' wings a stretch! JOHN: hehe, that's true.

Being like an action movie star really DOES feel fun to John, doesn't it? Makes him feel like a useful hero.

JOHN: but i think now that we're here, we should probably get inside before someone notices us. JOHN: roxy taught me a secret knock to use in times like these, she'll reco-

Wait who's going to interrupt?

(==>)

VRISKA: *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* VRISKA: OPEN UP!!!!!!!!

SNERK

Ah, and also they're back to being displayed like the once-children THEY viewed themselves to be, because we aren't looking up at them from one of the children's perspective.

(==>)

SOLLUX: damn dude, to0k you l0ng enough, i'm hungry as hell. SOLLUX: what'd y0u br-

SOLLUX YOU ARE BREAKING SECURITY PROTOCOL YOU ARE A HACKER YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER YOU LAZY ASS XD

(==>)

...You can't even see her, can you? Are those glasses like techno-sight thingies?

(==>)

Him too. How do you know where to look? I half swear you're hiding robot eyes.

(==>)

SOLLUX: nah.

HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

he doesn't wanna deal with Vriska and John's shit XD

(HOW IS HE SEEING THEM)

Okay time for Vriska to kick down the door (or John to Turn To Wind thing them straight through it, few doors are barriers to him if he has his God-Tier powers in mind).

(==>)

*Shared look of questioning exasperation.*

(==>)

GOSH ROXY IS THE BEST NO MATTER WHAT EXPRESSION SHE'S DRAWN WITH

ROXY: hey you 2! ROXY: sorry abt him his manners are fuckin atroche JOHN: for real. ROXY: anyway hustle up and get in before someone sees ya ROXY: also john wtf happened to the secret knock VRISKA: Yeah, John! VRISKA: What the hell! JOHN: i- ROXY: move it buster!!

Hahahahahah.

Wait, this next link-- that's right we saw THE SHIP above the meteor in an earlier frame I didn't post, this all means that the kids are ALREADY HERE!@!! (Edit from below: nope I looked again it wasn't, why did I imagine it up in the sky)

(John and Roxy: Co-parent.)

This frame isn't important and I still love it in so many different ways.

ROXY: oh the kids are safe btw JOHN: that's good! JOHN: wait, they were in danger? ROXY: yeah numbnuts in case u forgor theres a whole ass conflict goin on with kids gettin kidnapped n houses gettin targeted n shit! ROXY: our house bein one of those hice! JOHN: you never told me our house was one of those hice!

What the FUCK is a "hice"?! \*looks up...\*

"Noun. hice. (chiefly humorous, nonstandard) plural of house."

Are you fuckin serious XD

JOHN: you told me to go get vriska, which i did. VRISKA: Actually, I pretty much got myself. JOHN: fair. JOHN: but i collected her! JOHN: you didn't really say anything about harry or the other kids at all. ROXY: oh man ROXY: i guess i kinda didnt huh ROXY: ... ROXY: aw jeez JOHN: hey! JOHN: i'm sorry roxy, don't worry about it, you've got em now. ROXY: what ROXY: no i dont got em JOHN: wait, what? JOHN: then who has them!!! ROXY: rosenaya and jade picked em up while they were ROXY: um ROXY: runnin around outside unsupervised JOHN: oh. JOHN: well... that's good! ROXY: ... JOHN: ... VRISKA: Haha! You guys are terri8le guardians. ROXY: hey stfu

Okay, so (*checks*) the ship WASN'T here yet, my bad. I guess Vriska is going to engage the Plot Point device before they even get here, potentially.

JOHN: yeah, you're one to talk! JOHN: you left your own clone on her own in a dungeon! VRISKA: It wasn't a "dungeon" John, it was a high-security 8lack site! JOHN: that's basically the same thing. JOHN: if anything it sounds a lot worse! VRISKA: She could handle it. VRISKA: Unlike your lame-ass offspring who need to 8e gru8sat by an entourage of armed guards, I can tell that she's got that patented Serket panache. JOHN: technically she's a maryam-lalonde. VRISKA: Sure, whatever. VRISKA: The point is, she's a Vriska. ROXY: whatever is right VRISKA: Hurry up and walk faster!

Vriska heard the Plot Point was a superweapon and she can't wait to get some shit done with it.

(==>)

You can practically SMELL Vriska drooling at the shrouded appearance of the most plot-significant thing she's seen in this entire timeline, and she think it's a "superweapon" designed just for HER.

CALLIOPE: hello! CALLIOPE: i'm so glad yoU all made it back alright. ROXY: oh it werent no thang baby i was just answerin the door CALLIOPE: not yoU, silly! ROXY: hehe VRISKA: Ew. JOHN: (a little, right?)

SHUT THE FUCK UP they're adorable together!!! Let them be sweet on each other! D:

CALLIOPE: salUtations, vriska! CALLIOPE: i mUst say it's a pleasUre to finally make yoUr acqUaintance! VRISKA: What the hell is that thing? CALLIOPE: hee hee, gracioUs. CALLIOPE: yoU're as rUde as i imagined yoU'd be. VRISKA: Not you. I know who you are. VRISKA: *That* thing! CALLIOPE: oh! CALLIOPE: yes, that'd make sense.

Pfff.

OKAY IT'S TIME TO SEE THE DEVICE, I'M EXCITED

(==>)

SHE'S fucking adorable too! GOSH I LOVE HS^2'S ART SO MUCH.

CALLIOPE: that, my narratively significant friend, is the reason we've called yoU here!

Time for the reveal--!

(==>)

CALLIOPE: allow me to introdUce...

PULL IT BACK

The Plot Point.

THAT'S SO FUCKING COOL LOOKING

CALLIOPE: The Plot Point.

What's with the colors on the left and right though? The spirals on the dragons? It's...

OH! The left spiral is in Roxy Lalonde's God-Tier Void outfit colors and the right spiral is in Calliope style. The combination of their talents and engineering. An infinity-like sideways hourglass up top. The Rogue of Void and the Muse of Space once again combining their talents to create a miracle. I love this.

(==>)

CALLIOPE: er, technically, the machine stabilizing The Plot Point. CALLIOPE: the actUal Point is that ominoUs looking bit in the middle! VRISKA: That's it? CALLIOPE: that's it! VRISKA: It looks sort of small and shitty. CALLIOPE: it's actUally anything but! CALLIOPE: it is paradoxically massive, and incomprehensibly powerfUl! CALLIOPE: so mUch so that the fact that anybody was able to contain it at all is a miracle in and of itself. CALLIOPE: bUt as mUch as i'd like to sit here and congratUlate myself on the achievement of its stabilization, more miracUloUs still is what we intend to achieve with it.

Is it the remnants of the hole alt!Calliope / AL tore open to escape the Black Hole, is it the center OF the singularity itself, or is it an encapsulation of Paradox Space? Or multiple of the above?

CALLIOPE: and yoU, vriska, are going to be instrUmental to the sUccess of this endeavor! VRISKA: No shit! VRISKA: That's kind of my whole thing. CALLIOPE: yoU're more correct than yoU know! ^u^ CALLIOPE: as we've already explained to john, this world is cUrrently mired in a state of, well... let's call it dUbious pertinence. CALLIOPE: a- VRISKA: I fucking KNEW it!!!!!!!! VRISKA: John, didn't I tell you? VRISKA: I totally did tell him. VRISKA: I've 8een saying that this world is complete 8ogus for ages now, and no8ody's 8een listening! VRISKA: Yet here I am, right again. VRISKA: Shocker! VRISKA: You should listen to Calliope, John. VRISKA: They may have pretty weird taste in fashion, 8ut they o8viously know what they're talking about where the shitty fake shitness of this joke of a timeline is concerned. VRISKA: Clearly we need to do something. CALLIOPE: Um. CALLIOPE: that was perhaps a tad redUctive, and sort of rUde, bUt yoU're certainly correct in yoUr assessment that something has to be done aboUt this!

Pretty much!

CALLIOPE: i'll keep this short. CALLIOPE: i know john's already heard a good deal of this explanation previoUsly, and yoU seem to be catching on quick! CALLIOPE: so! CALLIOPE: earlier, yoU mentioned that yoU've had a keen sense from the beginning that something was amiss here. CALLIOPE: althoUgh oUr world isn't necessarily "bogUs" and it certainly isn't "fake", per se, we are in effect completely cUt off from the wider canon of reality, to borrow a phrase from a slightly earlier me. CALLIOPE: we're kept qUarantined here by means of existing within a massive black hole, from which escape seems essentially impossible. CALLIOPE: that's where yoU come in! CALLIOPE: yoU see, we're hoping to leverage yoUr Unique hyperrelevancy here to- CALLIOPE: oops, let me back Up.

Back up to what?

CALLIOPE: the reason we broUght yoU *here*, specifically, is becaUse The Plot Point over there corresponds to the singUlarity at the exact center of oUr aforementioned plot prison! CALLIOPE: important bit of info, that! CALLIOPE: now, to reiterate, we want to escape that prison. CALLIOPE: and not jUst as individUals, either; no, the hope is that we'll be able to emancipate oUr entire world from this narrative pUrgatory and retake oUr place in the limelight!

Oh it was the SECOND THING-- the singularity itself, the normally-inescapable mass concentrating this entire timeline and all other fan-timelines in a prison nothing can normally escape, but that a Thief of Light as incessantly relevant as Vriska -- possibly with the help of an Heir of Breath, the aspect of freedom and escape -- to help them escape the black hole, and perhaps live outside Paradox Space still but still RELEVANT outside its influence, because Paradox Space itself is an entirely different sort of prison, of plot and canon that they would only want to tie themselves to enough to maintain coherence and escape the black hole garbage bin of irrelevance, I imagine.

CALLIOPE: to do this, we aim to become Uncontainable, and to do *that* we're going to Use yoU, a potent plot player if ever there was one, to crack the black hole wide open by, well... CALLIOPE: by interacting with the singUlarity! CALLIOPE: by reaching The Plot Point. CALLIOPE: now there are qUite a few ways this coUld practically shake oUt, and more than a few methodologies we coUld have yoU try. VRISKA: (...) CALLIOPE: the first thoUght was just to have yoU "make something happen" here, something significant, mind. CALLIOPE: bUt what woUld that really entail? CALLIOPE: contriving an entire scenario for yoU to play a pivotal role in, here at the center of all things? CALLIOPE: i did consider it, bUt it felt... CALLIOPE: well, inorganic. inaUthentic. CALLIOPE: and if we're going to make it oUt of here, inaUthenticity is the exact opposite of what we need to achieve! VRISKA: (........) CALLIOPE: which broUght me to wondering how someone like yoU might Utilize The Point itself, as a tool rather than a locale. CALLIOPE: how yoU might wield it!

I guess Roxy and Calliope (or at least, THIS Roxy and Calliope) haven't quite worked out the plan for exactly what they should do now that they've gotten to this point. But the way Vriska is acting, I think she's thinking of something. No matter who may or may not agree with her.

CALLIOPE: perhaps it's a portal, and we'd send yoU throUgh it? CALLIOPE: or maybe we'd have yoU ferry Us all throUgh it? CALLIOPE: thoUgh how woUld that work? CALLIOPE: alternatively, maybe it'd be as simple as having yoU attempt to destroy it! CALLIOPE: and-

I have a feeling that Vriska wants to do something that might let her PERSONALLY escape this timeline and return to the "real" canon one, to a realm of relevance herself... possibly forcibly dragging John along with her if she feels like it, but likely all on her own. And I'm not sure, but I think she wants to see Terezi again. And there's only one place she can find her.

I have a feeling whatever is about to happen isn't exactly what I or anyone else expects, though.

How is she going to steal enough relevance back from Canon to infuse this place with promise? *IS* she going to, or will she try to do her own thing and only accidentally do so, or end up fucking up and needing to be freed by John, or even have John himself be responsible for allowing them to escape the prison instead of Vriska?

(==>)

VRISKA: ALR8GHTY! VRISKA: Just... shoosh, lemme stop you right there. CALLIOPE: :u VRISKA: I don't have all day to sit around listening to a frumpy exposition creature.

*snert* exposition creature

JOHN: but you said t- VRISKA: 8up 8up 8up! VRISKA: You too. VRISKA: Here's the story. VRISKA: It's o8vious to anyone with half a pan that this whole shindig is pretty much cosmically clusterfucked, top to 8ottom. VRISKA: Equally o8vious is that I'm gonna 8e the one to fix it, 8ecause when am I not? VRISKA: And what's 8ecoming even MORE o8vious to me is that none of you actually have any REAL idea of what it is I need to 8e doing here! VRISKA: Theories, may8e. VRISKA: 8ut nothing solid.

That much is true.

VRISKA: So while I'd love to sit around listening to more academic conjecture on the ifs ands or 8uts of what EXACTLY this thing's deal is and what we should or shouldn't may8e do with it, I actually wouldn't love that at all, and am not going to do it, 8ecause it'd be a waste of my time. VRISKA: And no offense to this whole plane of existence, 8ut I've had just a8out as much as I can handle of wasting my time in here. VRISKA: It's time to kick off the training wheels and do what I do 8est: VRISKA: Figure shit out myself. VRISKA: So sit tight and leave the rest of this to me! VRISKA: You can thank me when I get 8ack.

I guess even though she's going it alone for herself, this all might work out after all? Vriska's gonna Vriska, but maybe that's not so bad here.

OH AN [S] PAGE OOOOOO

[S] (Vriska: Figure shit out yourself.)

Whoa that animation was cool as SHIT. And what was with the spinning hourglass...

VRISKA: You're welcooooOOOOH SHIIIIIIIIT-

PFFF

(==>)

That hourglass do be doing a REAL SPINNY STILL.

ROXY: wow JOHN: yeah, she's... JOHN: well, just as much of a card as i remember! ROXY: just as much of a jerk maybe CALLIOPE: she definitely was not very polite. CALLIOPE: bUt... CALLIOPE: i guess she did more or less end Up doing something! CALLIOPE: so i sUppose we shoUld chalk that Up as a win and a job well done? JOHN: i don't know... JOHN: i was kind of expecting something a bit more... JOHN: more plot significant? JOHN: i guess?

You don't quite know what she's going to DO in there though... or how important it's going to end up having made Vriska's experiences in this timeline, because whatever she ends up pulling off has to make (Candy) more important than a doomed timeline in sealing its need ineffably in the course of events of the future, present, or past of all Canon.

ROXY: callie CALLIOPE: yes dear? ROXY: is vriska right CALLIOPE: right aboUt what, dear? ROXY: about the fact that u dont actually know wtf we were supposed to be gettin up to here CALLIOPE: well... CALLIOPE: Um, more or less, yes. ROXY: bb are you srs CALLIOPE: oh dear. CALLIOPE: did i neglect to mention that i only really had a solid grasp on the inaUgural steps of this whole Undertaking? ROXY: um ROXY: YEAH CALLIOPE: oops! ^u^; ROXY: shit yeah callie that is kind of a fuckin oops!

Again... especially with the PRECISION with which this machine is made, I believe Roxy and Calliope are perhaps unknowingly collaborating with the OTHER Roxy and Calliope who are helping write the (Candy) storyline altogether.

ROXY: you said you were being compelled by like hella visions n premonishes n mysterious psychic spatiotemporal intuitions n i kinda figured that meant you had this shit all ttly comprehended! CALLIOPE: i'm sorry, roxy! CALLIOPE: it absolUtely wasn't my intention to mislead yoU or to overrepresent my level of Understanding of the process. CALLIOPE: it's jUst that, well... CALLIOPE: yoU remember how we got so wrapped Up in the initial excitement of finding the singUlarity and the rUined jUjU arch, and sUbseqUently stabilizing it with oUr sUper cool cherUbic-lalondian tech... ROXY: its true our tech really is so fkn cool...

EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME DID YOU SAY RUINED JUJU ARCH!?!?!?? Who the fuck was responsible for THAT?!? For ALL of these devices!? I still have to play Hiveswap Chapter 2 but I feel like that won't give me answers yet either if I had to guess!!!

CALLIOPE: and then, well... it felt like we were on sUch a roll when we came to the conclUsion that we needed to leverage vriska's hyperrelevance to scUrry oUt of here... ROXY: we did have a whole bunch of high fives about that... CALLIOPE: it was an exhilarating breakthroUgh! CALLIOPE: and an eqUally exhilarating high-five session! CALLIOPE: bUt then the conflict began to ramp Up, and yoUr son got into all those shenanigans, and i wanted yoU to feel like i had everything Under control down here so yoU could attend to it! CALLIOPE: and all that notwithstanding, we really DID need to hUrry Up and do SOMETHING. CALLIOPE: i worried that perhaps yoU'd be a bit relUctant to pUll the trigger on this if it felt like all the details weren't lined Up. CALLIOPE: and so i... CALLIOPE: well, i sUppose i might have implied a more complete knowledge of the a to zed of all this then i actUally... possessed. CALLIOPE: and continUe to possess. JOHN: well, but you don't possess it. CALLIOPE: no, i'm afraid not. CALLIOPE: u_u ROXY: urgh callie i gotta say this feels sorta less than ideal ROXY: but i guess wcyd

Yeah, it was only a slightly dick move and the Rogue of Void is going to forgive this sort of white lie easily enough in their relationship. It makes sense.

JOHN: wow. JOHN: feels kinda nice not being the one getting chastised, for a change! ROXY: john shut ur insensitive blabhole or im gonna chastise the shit out of u JOHN: jeez!

Yeah butt out Egbert!

JOHN: just trying to think solution here, but is there something *we* should do? JOHN: should we maybe, i don't know... follow her? CALLIOPE: oh, i woUldn't recommend that. CALLIOPE: whatever's going on in there is likely to be extremely dangeroUs, and scarily... CALLIOPE: specific. JOHN: it's dangerous and you let her jump right into it? CALLIOPE: well she didn't exactly give me mUch of a golden window of opportUnity to try and talk her oUt of it, now did she! CALLIOPE: besides, what exactly was i sUpposed to say? CALLIOPE: "hello vriska, lovely to make yoUr acqUaintance, so glad yoU coUld make it to oUr little soiree, woUld yoU mind doing something of particUlar significance next to, bUt not within, that crackling narrative nexUs of swirling spacetime? by the by, i'm not actUally sUre as to what, and in addition to that the forces at play here coUld qUite easily rip yoU or perhaps even all of Us along with oUr entire plane of existence to pieces if yoU're not exceedingly carefUl so do take a second or two to think aboUt it?" ROXY: i mean mb that woulda helped ROXY: but rly it sorta seems like she woulda just jumped right tf in anyway JOHN: yeah.

Is John going to have to save Vriska from a Black Hole with his powers like I long falsely theory-foretold back in the original run of Homestuck? Once she's done her thing? John is pretty much the only possible person who could pull her back out of there. It'd be the complete embodiment of his God-Tier Heir of Breath role.

JOHN: ... JOHN: well, it doesn't *feel* like we're all being ripped to pieces. ROXY: ya im feelin pretty structurally intact, hbu callie CALLIOPE: whole and one! SOLLUX: yeah i'm all go0d. ROXY: oh damn dude, when did u get in here- ROXY: wait tf ROXY: are those my chips SOLLUX: i guess they were.

Pfff

banter banter banter...

SOLLUX: anyway what's going 0n in here? JOHN: hmmmmmmmm. JOHN: i wonder what IS going on in there.

Oh I love the next link title (but why is she grumpy though, is this AL/alt!Calliope we're cutting to?)--

Grumpy Exposition Creature: Exposit.

let’s have a look, then. as ever, faced with the desperate scrabbling of those who would overstep their bounds, it falls to me to clear things up. unfortunately, what’s been started here is now beyond my ability to curtail. what i can do, however, is show you all the consequences of the actions of those who would leap before they looked, and at the very least offer you a reprieve from tiresome conjecture in favor of equally tiresome deus ex machina.

Oh god, that's ominous as fuck. Alt!Calliope / AL is definitely pissed that the (Candy) folks besides the chosen few she brought along had the cheek to interfere and make the Canon timeline even more sprawlingly complicated without the ability to loop to a neat close.

Oh look at those brackets to represent the inside of the Plot Point, those are new? Have I finally almost caught up? ((NOO I WANTED TO SEE MORE YIFFY!)) I sniffed a glimpse of a 3D-or-game-like-looking something somewhere on tumblr or twitter or Patreon or the like in the midst of my efforts to immediately look away from anything close to a spoiler, so I sort of am expecting that I might be about to be shown something that would otherwise be surprisingly interactive and three dimensional soon...

[S] {Vriska: Come to.}

That was an ORANGE Sburb house like Dirk's color in the loading, or perhaps orange for Light colored?!

It's her old home... but in a white void with black clouds... ominously surrounded by horses...

{==>}

Home again, like the so distant past. Complete with the shitty "doomsday device" Eridan helped her build that never worked.

{==>}

She walks up her old stairs. Alt!Calliope/AL narrates...

they sent the thief here in search of power; the power to escape the containment i so painstakingly set up for them. she may well find it, though once again at no small cost to the integrity of this narrative, to say nothing of their tragically crumbling world. in fact, they’re quite lucky their meddling hasn’t immediately engendered the exact sort of catastrophic collapse my vibrant counterpart so flippantly theorized could occur. they must have friends in high places.

Friends in high places? Like the readers, or Andrew Hussie, or perhaps (Meat) Callie, who likely helped write this outcome?

If I had to guess, Alt!Callie thought this prison, this CONTAINMENT, would be a blessing... that perhaps the influence of non-Canon on Canon should be minimized even if non-Canon were to decompose into chaos and irrelevance. She believes this to hold nothing but danger and regret for them all. I think she's going to be proven wrong... but why is she so certain she's right about it? Quite ominous indeed...

Is it the remains of the collapsed Green Sun? Something Vriska would have the power to steal, something that might be powering the very existence of the (Candy) timeline though not sufficiently enough to keep it going for much longer without "crumbling" anyway?

{==>}

Whoaaaa.

when all is said and done, however, they’ll find the reward for their transgressions ill recompense for the price they paid to receive it. the black hole could only ever shelter them for so long, and in their haste to shrug off my protection they have opened the door to something far, far hungrier.

What... fandom demands? :?

{==>}

Vriska's old room...

this is not the salvation they are hoping for.

{==>}

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < meow! VRISKA: AAAAAAAAH! VRISKA: What the fuck are you doing here, Nepeta!

AhahAHAHAH!!! HAHAH! They live! :D

They couldn't be what AL was alluding to, could they? Time powers and fanfiction-love condensed into an oddly gender-euphoric-seeming fusion that loves themselves and knows the meaning and importance of Heart just as well or better than the Prince of Heart?

Vriska didn't meet this one for long, right, or ever? Hence confusing them for Nepeta?

{==>}

THAT'S WHERE ALL YOU OTHER MISSING SPRITES HAVE BEEN BESIDES JASPROSE

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < davepeta actually DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i gotta say its pretty refurreshing getting hit with nepeta instead of dave fur once! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everynyans always dave dave daving me and its like um YEAH maybe i AM half walker texas rapper with a sick pair of shades and some pretty funky ideas about what is or isnt funny and for what reasons DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i am also half straight up mewjoshi with a super clean trenchcoat and very obvious kitty ear horn things! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so thank you fur that DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its very validating

Multigendered plural fusions need their validation just as much or more than everyone else, really. :D

VRISKA: Okay, well. VRISKA: What the fuck are you doing here, *Davepeta*. VRISKA: What the fuck am *I* doing here! VRISKA: What in the FUCK are you, me, and all the rest of these multichromatic circus freak rejects doing in my hive?! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < just kinda hangin out!

Is this like... a prison for everyone deemed too inconvenient to serve in the plot of even (Candy)?

{==>}

ERISOLSPRITE: wwe'vve been here for liike a miilliion fuckiin 2wweep2. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < actually we just got here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this place didnt even exist until she popped in ERISOLSPRITE: gue22 ii'll fuck my2elf. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sprites go where guidance is essential!

Hmmmmm.

Friends in high places... Perhaps all of Skaia and/or the Horrorterrors combined wills also sanctioned this plan in the end? Because when they were created, or WILL BE created in Meat's timeline potentially, they'll eventually see and know something very important about what's possible here and how essential it is?

VRISKA: Ooooooooh, are you going to lead me to the weapon? VRISKA: Is it one of my doomsday devices? VRISKA: It totally is, isn't it. ERISOLSPRITE: 2et iit off, free u2.

Oh, hahah, Erisolsprite! You're so hilarious, wanting to unalive yourself all the time. Hahahah! Hah. :x

VRISKA: God, causality is so o8sessed with irony, even though it's such a useless joke for o8scene tools. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the only weapon in here is curled up snoozing all dormant and cute in your bloodpusher! VRISKA: Really? That's stupid.

It's not! Vriska is the Thief of Light.

If she really understood what that meant, then redistributing relevance is the exact and ultimate weapon needed for this situation. Even Callie and Roxy guessed THAT much, though Vriska perhaps still doesn't know enough about her potential to understand what she can actually do.

Also "in your bloodpusher" could indicate in your Heart, the ability for Vriska to interact with her broader Soul back in Paradox Space...

...Hopefully we don't need her to become an Ultimate Self version of herself? Because creating Ultimate Vriska would ABSOLUTELY open the door to "something far, far hungrier" in a way that might be dangerous to absolutely everyone.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *vriska stalks menacingly but ill informedly all up in here like "ummmmmmmm where am i what are you doing in my hive is the jank ass rube goldberg machine i built as a six sw33p old gonna fix everything?" because apparently thats so much less stupid* DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < just spaying DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < actually yuck i dont like that

Yeah that's a step too far a pun, and also probably not how Davepeta wants to roll.

VRISKA: If it's just me, then why the hell are all you guys here? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < we rolled through so we could shepurrd our little eight legged sh33p to some helpfur self reflection

Yep... the biggest weapon is potentially Vriska performing some self-discovery and learning more about her title and aspect than she was willing to before-- learning about the real power she commands, which is so SO much more than just "luck".

VRISKA: I came here to save the world! VRISKA: In case you haven't noticed, the only thing showing up in MY reflection is a perfectly adjusted 8adass. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 that f33ls to me like an insane thing to say DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < does that not sound insane to you fefeta? FEFETASPRITE: 3833 < 383 DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < not very adjusted at all VRISKA: I need to adjust my way out of here. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < tough kitties! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 you just bapped the nail on the head DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this is exactly why youre here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you gotta work on your shit vriska serket!

I really like this. I really like seeing ALL of these characters sorting out the worst of some of their unresolved issues. And this childhood room and Vriska's childhood fantasies are at the heart (Heart!!!) of a lot of her desperation and neediness, and inability to look past HERSELF to find who and what she can truly be if she tries. These sprites are together to help speedrun her through a whole successful Sburb session's worth of growing up.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *gears up to lay the fuckin smackdown on you all wrestler style but maybe also rapper style but the rapper is also a therapist who doesnt take shit from anybody and beats their clients the fuck up EMEOWTIONALLY but i guess in a productive way!!!* DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you meow a big game about doing shit that matters and saving the world and being right all the time and making tough calls or whatever the fuck DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but more often than not youre just tearing through life taking a big dump in its litter box and kicking your collitteral all ofur the place! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < fluff that! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you wanna save the world so bad? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < youre gonna have to save yourself first

Let's gooooo! :D

(I wonder if any of the transfem Vriska toblerone stuff is going to play into this incidentally, while we're this far in her past, or if as i hear that was only possibly hinted at mainly in Pesterquest or something else I haven't played.)

{==>}

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and were all gonna help you! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < whether you like it or not

Are those ghosts from the Ghost Rain back in (Candy) that I haven't heard about since, when all the dream bubbles fell into the black hole?

{==>}

the fuck am i looking at XD

Okay, THIS is the 3D page I think I saw hinted at coming up, deliberately misleading link title and all:

{S} Begin Session.

Oh, "welcome to hell" and it's page 666, too, hah.

There was a prompt for a CHAPTER SELECT at the beginning so there's likely to be too much content here for me to screenshot much of, nor text I can highlight and paste properly, so I'm just going to comment on what I'm seeing when it's relevant as I play through this little game thing and paraphrase instead of using whole quotes unless something's so important I can't convey it with a screenshot alone.

We're first revisiting the cliff that Vriska threw Tavros off of. Vriska needs to confront why she fucking did that and that she ought not to have, but what exactly pushed her into it besides Doc Scratch. All the pressures she grew up with, and why she gave into them, and that she was... well, raised wrong and made wrong decisions that she needs to psychologically unpack to find herself. Her real self beneath all the bluster and arrogance and wrecking of shit.

--Ooh wait, the menu has a "Download Log" function, I'll use that if I need to to copy-paste text if needed (but I'll mostly focus on getting through this and commenting)!

*click*

Weird music. Egyptian out of nowhere. Have we crossed Charon's river?-- no wait that's greek. Oh jazz too.

VRISKA: wow, hell was right.

Again I'll try not to quote everything and just allude or paraphrase. I wonder if this beat is implied to be something Davepetasprite^2 would have mixed together.

Vriska thinks she's faced with the "ghosts of her past" and needs to "sort it out", hm. A shallow approach but we'll get to her depths soon enough.

Wait I tried the Download Log option to try and get the transcript to quote Vriska's "speedrun enlightenment" (lol good luck) line, but instead it was just the game's debug log. And the other menu... SKIP UNSEEN TEXT AND AFTER-CHOICES?

Oh man, this is an adventure potentially with CHOICES where we keep skipping back to figure out how to best get through a situation isn't it and see her go through each of the options??? :D (Or is at least built on an engine that does that?) Fucking sick! It even SAVES AND LOADS. Is it big enough to NEED that?!

I'm just gonna dive into this and comment lightly so I can get through it myself if you don't mind.

Continuing Tavros's segment...

We're replaying a point in her past where Tavros is near that cliff, and Vriska hasn't killed OR disabled him yet...

I feel fine about killing Tavros, and he's certainly ok with it now. The situation's sorted!

BULLSHIT IT IS. Let's see you being forced to introspect here, I can't wait.

It could have 8een any number of things. I did a lot of things wrong.

Yeah, BUT WHY? You haven't fucking confronted it yet.

Oh now she's pulling out the thing Rose just did with "It all worked out in the end so it was the right thing to do", fuck that. Fuck that. Learn.

{Hours Later, but not many.}

WHAT IS THAT ANIMATED LIP QUIVER SHE'S GOT TO BE FAKING IT

VRISKA: ...I'm sorry I said your lusus "smelled like tears".

So she's thinking that apologizing for everything she ever did is going to help, here... she might even be working herself up about it, making herself genuinely emotional if I don't get psyched out on the next click. But apology isn't enough here... she needs to learn about HERSELF, and why she did what she did, and what she would RATHER HAVE DONE if it came down to it, rather have done FOR HERSELF and not just for everyone else's.

And perhaps, words aren't at all what matters here. It's hard for a Light player to figure out, but words don't mean much. Only actions.

Clicking forward... yep, it's not progressing. And she's being "sincere a8out at least 80% of these", hahahah.

((Also I forgot that the infinity symbol on her eyepatch lines up with the sideways hourglass on the plot point machine and would be the perfect accoutrement to her becoming her Ultimate Self, too.))

Whoa.

Hold on.

I know it's a common phrase in Homestuck. SO common a phrase that I never... fuck... how could I be... the fucking person who wrote that Ultimate Riddle post and not make this connection?

The game keeps asking her, keeps asking and asking her the exact same question:

"What will you do?"

A phrase repeated dozens and dozens and dozens of times throughout all of Homestuck. And idiot that I am I never ONCE thought to REARRANGE THE WORDS.

Because the answer to the Ultimate Riddle is theoretically:

Do What You Will

THE ULTIMATE RIDDLE POST IS LITERALLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD HOW DID I NOT ONCE MAKE THIS FUCKING CONNECTION

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(Okay calm the fuck down, focus. Back to the game.)

Is that the lesson she's finally going to learn, here???

Let's keep going and see.

...(more clicking)

"What will you do?"

Huh... Vriska thinks Tavros ought to want revenge against her for what she did to him. That's one of the biggest things she has to unlearn.

VRISKA: It's like I'm always saying, words are meaningless. VRISKA: What we need is action.

Nice callback but no you don't always say that asshole! I mean, you've been saying it lately... but also running from your problems with it.

VRISKA: The reason I'm stuck here is 8ecause I don't owe you plac8ing apologies VRISKA: I owe you revenge. It's just that easy!

None of this is EASY. That's been your issue. You haven't even admitted when it's been hard except for fleeting moments of pure anger and frustration.

VRISKA: You have to throw me off this cliff.

Pffffff

TAVROS: vRISKA I DON'T WANT TO DO A REVENGE ON YOU

Thank you, Tavros, but it's not going to be that easy to get it through her thick skull.

VRISKA: [live out the rest of your life] Here on Alternia. VRISKA: Before everything goes wrong. VRISKA: You can kill me now. VRISKA: 8efore I screw your life up.

Tavros didn't want Vriska to just disappear. Not back then, and not for a long time now.

Oh and now she's literally REPEATING the crime of trying to FORCE HIM TO KILL HER that she did on the quest bed. She has to reckon with THAT too.

Hm-- it's only giving me one choice, huh? I wonder if more will open up if/when we come back to this scene?

{Thief: Do the right thing.}

Manipulating him, stealing his will to FORCE him to kill her. Just another crime for the pile, really, not a solution.

{It's really for the 8est.}

VRISKA: Good luck.

Wishing luck to someone ELSE instead of herself, huh.

{Adios, Toreador.}

The music fading off...

SHING

She's literally GRINNING to be dead.

{==>}

Only to wind back up on that same beach she started the Plot Point in.

YEAR 2

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

OKAY MAYBE THIS IS GOING TO TAKE HER A WHILE!!!!

I guess that while the other folks in the Candy timeilne grew up around her, she's still younger... still has LITERAL growing up to do to match up with them. So that hourglass wasn't a joke, this is almost like a TEMPORAL SINGULARITY, a hyperbolic feelings jam time chamber.

Fascinating. (Click.)

Davepeta roleplaying, heheh. Always happy to see it.

Oh, Vriska has a tank top and her hair tied back. She's going to grow up, steadily and slowly, through all this.

"the breaking of cycles, dissolution of the self, whatever other philosophical rhetoric bill murray said in that one meowvie", huh? I do feel more like we're aiming for her to reach her Ultimate Self here, perhaps...

Yeah no shit Vriska's going to be depressed after two years trapped here with her past problems, unable to even die to escape them.

Asking Davepeta to please tell her, HER, what to do, and not in a flighty spritey roundabout way. Hmm. Let's see if they answer, and let's see if she's finally ready to listen.

You think "sweeps of my life are 8eing w8sted here", huh? Your immortal life, you mean? And you don't know that there's time compression going on in here yet, perhaps.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < trust me i'm trying!!

D'aww, they look so bashful about failing to help, here.

Hahahhaah, that IS an issue isn't it! ...Huh. I wonder who WOULD be able to relate to her enough for her to listen to, that she would actually be able to take the advice of. Aradia? But is any version of her or ghostly imitation even here?

I know I'm wasting the image limit a little here but THAT'S WAY TOO CUTE, seriously I love how happy Davepetasprite^2 is with BEING themselves all the time.

Ooh, if you don't watch the groundhog movie you're gonna have an even harder time of this. Two whole years and you didn't watch Groundhog Day for a hint to get out and solve your psychological problems?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: *the fearsome gender neutral lionesster pins down its prey but instead of getting down to business growls out how the prey deserves this for being a big disappointing pussy*

Fuck I love that, "gender neutral lionesster" complete with that portmanteau at the end, that's valid as heck. Validation of ANY sort breathes life into my lungs.

Whoa... five choices, three of them grayed out, and "Check back later!" at the bottom. No wonder there's save slots, so this is going to be periodically updated?!?

Flarp manuals will bring us back to Tavros for sure... Let's see if that's something new and doesn't bring us back. (Click!)

VRISKA (angry): "I've apologized, I've killed you, you've killed me, you've paralyzed me, disfigured me, we traveled the world together." VRISKA: "We 8uilt you an army, had several revolutions, you got to do your little dance a thousand times over."

Oh she even replayed her LATER adventures with ghost Tavros?

Sure, but what did she LEARN from any of this, about HERSELF? What is she WILLING to learn about herself?

Oh.

Oh my god.

Oh my god this whole time she's never asked him to "participate in activity of his own choosing". SHE'S NEVER ASKED HIM WHAT HE WANTED TO DO THIS ENTIRE TIME.

SHE'S FINALLY LEARNING ABOUT WILL! ABOUT THE BALANCE TO FIND WITH ALLOWING OTHERS AGENCY!!!!?!

Let's see... yep, he wants to play a game.

Because he used to play games all the time with the likes of Vriska... and he enjoyed himself, until she betrayed him and threw him off a cliff. For the first time EVER in her life, Vriska is trying to see what Tavros actually wants without deciding it for him.

{Play game.}

Vriska is baffled that even though she won, Tavros is still happy to have played the game. Even when Tavros was losing, he was STILL ENJOYING playing games with her. He always had.

He doesn't CARE that much about losing. She's never understood, been able to relate, to that. To her, losing was like death.

To him, losing in a new and different way is an adventure.

I'm loving all of this so much.

VRISKA: Damn. VRISKA: That is quite possibly the gayest thing I have ever heard someone say, Nitram.

PFFF I DID A SPITTAKE ALMOST

TAVROS: wHAT DOES THAT WORD, EVEN MEAN VRISKA: I don't know! It's a human word Dave would repeat all the time 8efore I started using it against him.

OUCH, on the meteor trip? Ouch ouch ouch! XD

VRISKA: It's 8asically what you tell people when you think they're 8eing inane and need them to shut up. TAVROS :wELL THEN, vRISKA, i THINK YOU, aRE gAY TOO,

BAAHAHAHAAHAH PREACH

TAVROS: yOU AND I, aRE BOTH STUPID GAY, TAVROS: nOW BASED OFF THE RULES OF GAY, wE HAVE TO SHUT UP AND GAME, VRISKA: I'm not gay, stop saying I'm gaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!

I'M FUCKIN DYING XD

Tavros is right: If someone didn't lose, following all these game rules wouldn't be fun. If you can't love losing at least a little, you can't truly love playing games.

PFFFHAHAHAH he remembered something for a split second to make a point and then went back to not and Vriska is losing her shit.

She's remembering why she hated him so much... how she HAD to hate this attitude of his. I'm guessing in part it's because thanks to her lusus, SHE NEVER HAD THE LUXURY OF LOSING, THAT WAS DEATH TO HER. Possibly LITERALLY death, to not win and feed others to her mother.

OHOHO SHE ACCIDENTALLY REVEALED HER OWN FEELINGS!!!

VRISKA: I think if a certain uppity human was here, she'd call it "projecting."

SHE'S FINALLY FUCKING LEARNING

Tavros laying it down that he always REMINDED HER OF ALL OF HER FEARS. THAT'S why she always hated him.

TAVROS (eyebrowsing): i LOVE NOW KNOWING, tHAT YOU HAVE PROBLEMS,

Oh that's gonna get to her. XD

They could both be projects for each other. Oh gosh it's actually showing how they could have had a HEALTHY rivalry or relationship in some other quadrant where they improved each OTHER, and Tavros showed her how to be comfortable losing and not always having to concern herself with survival.

Aw he's feeling "inspired" (Breath)!

...whoa. Tavros laying out some alternative gender fantasies here? The nice and soft bronze fairy, and she will be super nice and awesome because everyone likes her?

VRISKA: Let's play some games for girls.

Yeah!!!!!!!!

Oh my god Tavros really DID have a character sheet for a female Bronze Fairy character that was a Tavros-like mirror to Vriska's Blue Fairy and he's embarrassed to say it. This is pretty incredible, I love how much Gender they are stuffing into all of these updates.

And yeah Vriska, it's the first time you've really listened to him. Really, ACTUALLY been not terrified to listen to him, and tried to understand how he feels without your defenses all the way up to just drive over him whenever he made you uncomfortable, or literally ever.

VRISKA: This whole time I thought I was supposed to 8e pushing you. VRISKA: It's soooooooo o8vious now, that was pretty fucking stupid of me. There was nothing I could have done to change your mind, huh? ARADIABOT: exactly

AAAAA aradiabot jumpscare! Right at her important psychological revelation! D:

ARADIABOT: y0ure finally starting t0 get it

And I'm so glad of it.

{==>}

Vriska's finally taken a step forward after all these years trapped here, and she's flabbergasted.

LoMaT and Aradiabot, now.

VRISKA: Are you... aware of the situation? Does this mean I finally cleared Tavros and you're the next level of helltier?

Well, yeah I think so pretty much.

ARADIABOT: i w0uldnt say that ARADIABOT: m0re acurately this is the b0ss fight t0 drive the p0int h0me

Oh?

Yeah, Vriska still thinks this purgatory is about punishment, or atonement, instead of LEARNING. About herself, about her friends, about GROWING as a person.

VRISKA: It's not........?

Two years slow on the pickup! WOW that's a thick layer of problems for Vriska to work through all at once.

Oh what a callout... good point Aradiabot, telling it straight to her that VRISKA was the only one satisfied by Aradiabot giving her the smackdown and killing her. That she wanted to be hated, judged, and that was the thing that she couldn't stand about Aradiabot the most.

ARADIABOT: what i meant was that y0u got what y0u always wanted ARADIABOT: y0u were ex0nerated vriska thats what its always been ab0ut

Yeah, she's always wanted someone to make her pay.

VRISKA: I never once asked to 8e f8rgiven for free, I always paid the price!

No, you believed in the false power of redemptive violence. You never confronted why you did what you did in the first place, you just used exoneration as an excuse to not work on the problem at all in yourself.

ARADIABOT: wh0 can aff0rd t0 care when they kn0w y0ure g0ing t0 hurt them again?

FUCKING PREACH.

No, Vriska, getting beaten and bruised and mutil8ed and h8ing yourself doesn't fix the problem. Redemptive violence is a myth. You have to confront why you did what you did inside YOURSELF and cure yourself of the root cause.

Oh wow, "What will you do" growing on the screen like this...

Yeah, Vriska's not going to manipul8 aradiabot into caring. That wouldn't accomplish anything, and she's moved past really, truly, being willing to try that anyway.

ARADIABOT: y0ure n0t here t0 be redeemed vriska y0ure here t0 grow up

Exactly. ...And kind of fun that Pupa Pan Tavros was her first and hardest test, in that light.

--Vriska doesn't even understand what that MEANS yet, being asked to grow up! She doesn't know what growing up REALLY MEANS having only interpreted it in the cruel Alternian context she internalized while being raised!

ARADIABOT: d0 y0u even want t0 be that b0ssy br0ad?

YES CUT TO THE HEART OF THE MATTER. That Vriska doesn't actually enjoy BEING this thing she thinks she has to be. That the badass bossy broad she's convinced she SHOULD be, and plays the part of, was never what would truly make her happy and was NEVER going to avoid hurting everyone else. And deep down, she hates that she hurts people. But she's convinced herself she never had a choice.

...Yeah, Aradiabot, preach it. Paraphrasing her, even at her "most useless self", there's a place for Vriska in the world and people in it that want to share a life with her if she'd let them.

Pfff, Aradiabot's "0o0" face at her asking "am I the problem?"

ARADIABOT: i am g0ing t0 expl0de again

LOL

People have been telling you that your entire life, Vriska. You've just never listened. <3

ARADIABOT: 0f course! ARADIABOT: y0u already have

EXACTLY-- both before and even in this very sequence, ESPECIALLY in this sequence with Tavros, quite significantly!

--pff she's shocked and confused that Aradiabot thinks so

Yeah, she's grown steadily throughout all this, she's not the same as she was as a kid-- and she still has MUCH more to grow to TRULY grow up, and has taken an enormous step just now with Tavros's memory whether she realizes it or not.

ARADIABOT: "that aligns with y0ur aspect" ARADIABOT: "light players define themselves by their direct acti0ns and understanding"

Agency and Information, yeah! (Though that sort of goes somewhat against how I was saying earlier to Sollux's ominous portent how the Life/Doom axis was better about defining oneself by their actions; perhaps not by their actions but by... hm. Light players concern themselves more about agency (the ability to act) and then the MEANING of those actions, whereas Life players just DO and don't consider the meaning behind what they do as closely, don't LET IT DEFINE themselves as much, perhaps. Is that close to how I've described it before? I need to remember I'm learning from what the story is telling me, not JUST trying to fit it into my preconceived notions, as tempting as that is.

And yeah, a Time player gets to understand how these cycles of growth and then stagnation loops keep happening, the picture of Vriska as a person growing a bit but getting complacent and comfortable and slipping back into bad habits.

Vriska is barely but still willing to accept that there is "some8ody out there still w8ing for me, even after all my fum8ling". (SPOILERS VRISKA, IT'S TEREZI, YOU DUNKASS!)

Vriska says she's wondering whether she and Aradia, despite everything that happened, could have ever been friends.

ARADIABOT: y0u mean if y0u had put in the time and w0rked 0n wh0 y0u are and bec0me ultimately the best versi0n of y0urself? ARADIABOT: hmm ARADIABOT: n0 VRISKA: !!!!!!!! VRISKA: C-can I 8sk why???????? VRISKA: D8 you h8 me that much? ARADIABOT: i d0nt hate you ARADIABOT: but i d0nt want to spend my time 0n y0u either VRISKA: 8ut!!!!!!!! ARADIABOT: v.v VRISKA: ........ VRISKA: ........ ok. VRISKA: Ok.

Vriska was always SO DESPERATE for Aradia to feel SOMETHING towards her. Even hatred. And she was always denied. But not everything is meant to be. And even if she can become a better person, you're not always going to gel with everyone.

This is all so wonderful.

{Vriska: Take Aradia's hand.}

The quest recuperacoon where she ascended...

This is the last image I can put in this post and it made me teary-eyed the instant I saw it and it's still making me teary-eyed. Wow. Fucking... wow, this... this entire trapped-in-a-time-singularity psychological confrontation and growth experience Vriska is undergoing... this is better than anything I could have asked for, for her and from this story. I love this all so much. So fucking much.

VRISKA: 8ut I am actually sorry. For everything. TAVROS: yOURE RIGHT, iT'S DEFINITELY POINTLESS TO SAY, bUT, iT IS AN APPRECI8TED GESTURE };)

{==>}

VRISKA: And, it's not going to 8e the same again. VRISKA: I'll stick with it this time. I promise. ARADIA: we kn0w ARADIA: y0u have t0 ARADIA: n0 0ne else is g0ing t0 save y0u n0w VRISKA: 8ecause it's just me left? ARADIA: yes ARADIA: its just y0u ARADIA: g00d luck vriska ARADIA: i h0pe y0u get better s00n

Even the infinity symbol on her eyepatch has broken just a little bit, like a broken cycle. That got a couple actual tears out of me. This is incredible.

{Level Complete!}

...She's reached the "8OUNDARY RESPECTER" level on her weird new hell/perdition-themed solitary-candle-in-the-darkness echeladder.

Wow. That was just... incredible.

Mindfang's journal is next, but I've hit the image limit, and it's a miracle I've had the energy to push through and liveblog morning to night like this today... but it was all so amazing I couldn't stop, and for now I HAVE to take that image limit excuse to pace myself and not complete that final sequence that's currently out, just yet. I'll probably liveblog that tomorrow... and if I have energy, maybe even check out some of the commentary, unless that's pushing it. Gosh I love this webcomic so much, everyone. This is better than anything I could have possibly expected to happen when she used the Plot Point.

Oh my god... it's called {S} Begin Session because it's an extended THERAPY SESSION. :DDD

Thanks for being on this journey with you guys later, and I'll be caught up soon! There's no way I'm going to be able to get through ALL of the Patreon/bonus commentary I've missed since HS2 resumed in one day, and I can't guarantee I'll even start on it, but by sometime tomorrow I'll be caught up on Homestuck^2, posted, finally and waiting for the next part of this game on Page 666 with bated breath like everyone else, ready to liveblog it within a day or two of each new upd8 while I gradually crawl through whatever bonus material I haven't covered. :D

[yellow-berrys]

december boy, losing joy | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: rockstar!sirius black proposing to you, and the show that made him realise he would do it. established relationship.

warnings: none, allusions to a rough childhood and mention of cigarettes

(a/n: song in this drabble is original <3, really just a bit of prose italicised!)

“This next song is about a girl,” James fiddles with the knobs on his guitar, his voice cracking through the microphone. The crowd screams. 

“That’s right, Prongs,” Sirius grins from his place at the piano, “My girl. My biggest motivation and even though she might not be my biggest fan, I certainly am hers,” he takes a swig of water. 

He sweeps a glance around the arena, girls at the front drinking beer, some girls waving their undergarments at him, some guys drinking beer, some guys waving their undergarments at him. Some look envious and disappointed. Some are “awhhh”ing. 

He catches your eye in the VIP box, you grinning, barely visible as you stare at him. 

“And you’d be surprised that Sirius did pick up a pen and a book for this,” Remus drawls from his position at the bass.

“She’s certainly special enough,” Sirius looks up at you and winks, “Many of you might’ve heard it on the radio. Remus likes to call it “a lover’s musings” but I call it “December Boy, Losing Joy.” Yells and shouts echo as Sirius removes his earpiece. His eyes widen as he hears the noise and he puts it back in. You smile. You love seeing your boyfriend in his element. 

A bra is thrown onto the stage and someone yells, “Pick it up!”

“Sorry people, but I’m taken. Remember, I haven’t done it since ever.”

“No need to be jealous either,” Remus quips into his microphone, “Loving a two year old is harder than it sounds.”

“Hey!”

“Right, boys. We good to go?” James asks.

“Ready.”

James taps a hollow beat on his guitar slowly. The audience is quiet for once, as if instructed to do so. Remus starts strumming his bass, pick moving slowly as the sounds reverberate around the room. The tune is sweet and pleasant. You tap your foot slowly to it up in the box. Unknowingly, Lily is filming your reaction to it. You look down and follow the lyrics on the little card given to you by Sirius, waiting for him to begin. His eyes are closed, light illuminating his high cheekbones. You look at him like he’s your whole world and more.

He starts playing too. The melody is a toned down version of the Pop-esque one that you’ve listened to on Spotify so many times. You never knew the song was about you, thinking it was Remus’ penning or James’ tribute to Lily. But it’s beautiful. It’s also acoustic, you think, it gives the song a certain ethereal, timeless quality. Combined with your boyfriend with his hair up, eyelashes so long, eyes sparkling, you think this must be heaven. 

Sirius’ deep voice is angelic. “I was a December boy / Losing joy,” he sings. The crowd wave their phones to and fro, “Pretending I smoked cigarettes / Pretending I had no regrets.”

“Never one to be semantic / Always crude, brutal, unromantic,” The lyrics, now that you’ve thought about it, are undeniably Sirius’. 

“I was stone cold / And standing on my future’s threshold,” he smiles, “I was an incorrigible man / Shortening lifespan. My excuse was that I’m young / In years I haven’t spoken my mother tongue,” the crowd sings along.  

You hope the photographer they’ve hired is taking photos, because the warm spotlight illuminates where happy tears stain his porcelain skin. 

“December boy / Losing joy / Saying I’ll leave this town / Never wanting to settle down / December boy / Cast iron alloy / Wasn’t one who loved enough / Always trying to call your bluff.” 

“You were picture perfect / An idyllic circus,” you smile, idyllic, you had taught him that word, “Sweeping December clean / Smothering my burning gasoline / Never condescending of my ways / Lustrous, beaming gaze / What more, you cherish my past / Saying you don’t mind being my last / And you love the parts of me which I don’t / You tell me you will never leave me, you won’t.”

“I was a maximalist before I knew you / Rings on every finger, clouded world view / But you became my everything and now I need nothing more / And I told you this when you were unsure / Pretty thing / Please never leave me wondering / Where you are / I’m just a man without you, not a rockstar.”

“December boy / Losing joy.”

You sing along, reading the words, until there’s a diversion of them. You flip the card, but there are only lyrics to other songs there. The mood turns brighter.

“I was a December boy / Wearing black corduroy / Never one to be semantic / Now I’m a hopeless romantic / Not afraid of drowning in love anymore / Because my boat has arrived at your shore.”

“I tell everyone I’m going to marry you / Down Pleasant Crescent near Lover’s Avenue,” The crowd yells and shouts, “And this isn’t a proposal / You deserve one that is more than ambrosial,” he grins up at you, eyes smudged with adoration. 

“And I cannot believe / Heart stealing thief / That I was once a December boy / Losing joy.” 

The song goes viral. Everywhere on the internet you can see the tag #decemberboy, and the Marauders, however popular they already are, grow their fanbase tenfold. Sirius records the alternate version of the song again and he names it “December Boy, Losing Joy (Her Version)”.

The PR manager is very impressed, and gives all the boys a holiday. Remus goes home to see his old flame, James takes Lily on a trip to Honolulu and you and Sirius stay home. You’ve talked about getting married, and both of you are very keen on it. It’s just that Sirius is busy most of the time and the opportunity hasn’t ever arisen. But Sirius secretly has a ring picked out for you, one that he’s seen you look at when you think he wasn’t watching you at the mall. Lily has sent him the video of you beaming when marriage came up in his song, so he thinks you definitely like the idea. 

Lily and James should arrive the Sunday after, you learn, but they’re coming home earlier. Remus is already back but re-doing his house. 

Sirius comes into the room where you’re tapping on your computer, “Do you want to go on a date, pretty? The restaurant near the beach?”

Your cheeks heat up, “Now?” 

“When else?” He laughs, and he’s already wearing a suit. It clings to his body in all the right ways and makes you flustered and hot. His eyes gaze at you intensely. 

“Everything okay, lovely?” He stoops down to curl a stray lock of hair back. You’re still a blushing idiot in front of him, after all these years. 

“Yeah,” you choke out, leaving quickly, “I’ll get dressed.”

You had bought a new dress just a few weeks before, Remus’ old flame begging you to go date night shopping with her. 

You slip it on, getting ready with the aim to look date-able. Grabbing your things, you meet Sirius in the walk-in-closet, where he’s studying his ties intricately. He turns in greeting and he smiles cheesily, “Wow.” He’s blushing now too.

He picks out one that matches your dress. 

“You’re really, really beautiful,” he says as you tie his tie for him. 

You look up at him bashfully, “Just tryna catch up with you, handsome.”

“You don’t need to catch up with me, beautiful.”

All the way to the restaurant, he’s tense. He feels your small hand on his thigh, patting him. 

“You okay, Siri?”

“Yeah.”

His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and his knuckles turn white. 

“Are you sure, honey?”

You’re so sweet he almost wants to ask you here. Even though the ring is still in Remus’ pocket. But he forces a smile, “Great.” 

Sirius is not normally this tense, but the meal is nice and he’s perfect. Instead of leading you back to the car, he pads onto the sand nearby, “You coming?”

“Shoes, Siri, shoes.” 

You sit down and he takes them off for you, holding them. 

“Why are we here?” 

“The view is nice, I thought you’d appreciate it.” 

“It is.”

You bask in the worldliness of it all. You miss Remus approaching quietly and handing Sirius the ring, having mastered the art of slinking away. It’s only when you see all of your friends approaching, a camera in every second person’s hand, when you frown. You turn to Sirius. He’s looking at you like he’s infatuated, and shakily gets down on one knee, dropping your shoes and taking your hands into his. Is this really about to happen? 

“My love, I love you with all my heart and I promised to give you a proposal more than ambrosial so here it is. These last few years have made me realise that I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side and let everyone else know that too. I want to love you as much as I can, and I want you to be with me in everything that I do, everywhere I go. Will you continue making me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Please?” 

The delivery is short and sweet, Sirius’ way of doing things. You grin, throwing your arms around him. 

“Yes. Yes!” 

Sirius breaks out into a big smile, and slides the ring you had been marvelling at the other day on your finger. 

He lifts you and kisses you, deep and passionate and loving. Your friends cheer. 

You spend the rest of the night on the beach with your December boy, finding joy. 

[martybaker]

For the WIP game!

I would love for you to share anything you thought or wrote about Only Fools Rush In. 💕💕 It's so cute!

Sorry I took so long to answer! I’m so happy you’re interested in my dreamling ice skating au! ❤️

As a matter of fact, there’s been some new development in this au! I’ve watched Dead Boy Detectives and funnily enough, this au featured 4 students, one of them an incorrigible matchmaker and another a no-nonsense badass who gives Hob some advice, and Dead Boy Detectives gave me all of those! So this story now features DBD gang as guest stars 😅

And here are two excerpts, one to give some context and another featuring my best girl Niko 😊

(part one of this au here, an excerpt here, yet another excerpt here)

—-

“Hob,”Dream asks, squeezing Hob’s hand tight, “Did you, by any chance, tweet about this?”

“No,” Hob says, but his face is telling a different story.

Dream gives him his best teacher glare that always makes students come clean, and

Hob proves to be no exception - he blushes, admitting his crimes. “Umm, I might have shared a story on instagram? But I didn’t share a picture of us, or the location, nor did I mention your name!”

“And yet, here they are,” Dream grumbles, stopping by the boards of the ice rink (against the boards, his stopping technique still needs work). He pulls out his phone and opens instagram.

There it is, a view of the ice rink with the word “revenge” written over it, followed by an evil emoji.

“You’re an idiot, Hob Gadling,” Dream says, exasperated. “Did you really think that the kids with their smartphones today wouldn’t be able to find the location? Did you think they wouldn’t figure out that I am your company? They know about our bets, they’re the main spectators! And you teach them how to look for the missing context, for heaven’s sake,” Dream says, jabbing a finger into Hob’s chest.

———

Unsurprisingly, the first one to catch up with them is Niko, who is the fastest one (and unfortunately, the one with the least sense for tact).

“Hiii! Oh Professor Endeles, I didn’t know you knew how to skate!”

“I don’t,” Dream grumbles. “I’m learning.”

“That’s so nice that Professor Gadling took you out here to teach you! I really think this ice skating rink with the lights and the music is such a romantic place, don’t you think?”

Dream resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t care about the lights. Or the music.”

But Niko chatters on as if he hadn’t spoken a word. “I love ice skating, it’s so fun, isn’t it? And today is perfect for an outing with good company! Oh, isn’t that Professor Gadling’s scarf?” She points at Dream’s neck, looking absolutely delighted.

Dream grimaces, then glares at Hob who is visibly suppressing giggles next to him.

“Yes. I was cold,” Dream explains, tone icy.

“Aww, that’s so thoughtful of you Professor Gadling! This is the best, spending a nice winter evening together, holding hands!”

“Niko,” Hob admonishes, “we’re just here to ice skate. It’s Dream’s first time. Yes, we are holding hands, it’s necessary as he’s not yet confident to skate on his own. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Dream mutters.

———

(I figured I should make a tag for this au, so you can now follow #ofri dreamling au if you’re interested 😊)