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#i just had to. make a short comic of what i hope happened after THAT EPISODE
moistbread · 2 years
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post hollow mind
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magiccath · 5 months
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Distracted
tenth doctor x GN!reader
Summary: in which the Doctor can be very distracting
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The Doctor was going on and on about something that you didn’t fully understand, and to be honest, you weren’t really listening. He could be talking about his grocery list for all you cared. Truthfully, you loved when he talked like this. His voice was riddled with childish enthusiasm, but he spoke with the confidence of someone who knew just about everything. 
His glasses were perched on his nose as he squinted at the screen in front of him. He talked with his hands, waving them about as he rambled on. 
It was hard not to admire him, even if you did so frequently. 
The TARDIS light emphasized his freckles, a messy map of constellations laid out across his face. You wanted to kiss every single one of them. You supposed at some time you likely had.
Sometimes, he would rake his fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands. You loved his hair, the spiky strands of sandy and caramel brown. It was almost constantly a mess, sticking out in all directions. Perhaps it was from all of the manhandling, or perhaps that was just how his hair was. 
He smiled as he talked. You loved his smile - they were almost always lopsided, one end of his mouth quirking up a bit more than the other. When he got excited like this, he hardly had any control over his smile. It took over his whole face, his eyes sharing in the joy. 
His eyes were always so expressive. After being with him for a while, you began to pick up on this. Even if he didn’t say out loud how he was feeling, his eyes did. 
As you watched him it was impossible to not smile yourself, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. 
You suddenly became overcome with the urge to kiss him. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the Doctor was so kissable after all. 
You made your way over to the Doctor, stopping right in front of him. 
“Hello, love,” He grinned at you. Looking into his dark brown eyes, you could see all of the love that he held for you. 
Without warning, you gripped his face and kissed him passionately. You were overflowing with love for the strange alien, and you had to let it out somehow. 
It took him a moment to register what was happening, but once he did he relaxed almost instantaneously. His eyes closed and his arms wrapped themselves around you securely. 
You held onto him with unnecessary desperation, almost as if you were scared of losing him. Your hands clutched his face securely, pulling him closer and closer to you. You couldn’t get enough of him, frantically taking in as much as you could. 
When you finally had to pull away to breathe, your breaths came out in short pants. You rested your forehead against the Doctor’s, closing your eyes as you attempted to regain your breath. 
He gently brought his lips to your temple, planting a soft kiss there. His lips ghosted across your skin, barely making contact. Occasionally, he would apply pressure, planting soft kisses across your face. Your cheeks, nose, jaw, under your eyes. You giggled lightly, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. 
“Were you listening to a single thing I said?” 
You shook your head, hiding your face in his neck in hopes he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping across your face. You didn’t like to admit that you had been spacing out during his ramblings. 
“Did I bore you that much?” He laughed, finding the situation more comical than hurtful. He knew his ramblings could get a bit convoluted at times, so he didn’t really blame you for zoning out when he went down his rabbit holes. 
You pulled your head back out from its hiding place, your eyes wide, as you shook your head. 
“No, not at all,” you said hurriedly. 
“Honestly,” you mumbled, “I was just admiring you.” 
You cast your gaze downwards, not wanting to meet the Doctor’s eyes. You had been together for a while, but you still found it embarrassing to be caught ogling. 
The Doctor, on the other hand, found it incredibly adorable and endearing. The simple admission brought a loving smile to his face. 
Now it was the Doctor’s turn to overflow with excitement and adoration. He swooped you off of your feet, twirling you happily around the TARDIS control room. Your feet swung about, knocking a few things over in their wake, but neither of you cared much. You were both more than happy to love and be loved. 
Eventually, he set you back down on the floor. He didn’t let go of you though, his slender arms snaked around your waist. 
“I can’t blame you, I’m incredibly handsome.” The Doctor shrugged, a smirk forming on his face. 
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finding out it's your birthday
task force 141 x reader
synopsis: It's your birthday, but you don't know how to tell your teammates about it
notes: don't really know how to properly describe this, but it's based on this request and my personal experience of having to spend my birthday at work (no, I did not bring them baked goods, just sweets from the shop). Really short, not proofread, no plot.
comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈
warnings: none
find it on ao3 masterlist
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"and now I am dreaming and you're singing at my birthday// and I've never seen you smile so big" - moon song
There were a lot of potential ways you could have spent your birthday, but running through the narrow hallways of the base with a heavy backpack slung over a shoulder definitely hadn't been one of them
You almost crashed into other three operators, including König from KorTac who had the common sense to place his heavy hands on your shoulders in an attempt to steady you before you ran him over in your rush to get to the meeting room
Laswell had advanced the hour the post-mission debriefing was supposed to take place and it ended up clashing with your own schedule, the one day you decided to organise your actions into one and now you were late by almost 5 minutes. Which wouldn't seem like much to some, but being a member of Task Force 141 meant you needed to uphold a certain standard.
But it was your birthday and even if you were 99% sure no one was actually aware of it, you'd spent the morning baking oat cookies and muffins, and carefully packing them into casseroles. You also tried to bring them to the destination with minimal damage, but now you could only hope there was something edible left of the baked goods.
"I'm sorry I'm late!", you meekly excused yourself, taking a seat between Ghost and Soap and blushing slightly when feeling Price's judging glare.
"Anyway, as I was saying when you tried to infiltrate through this crack in the perimeter…"
Slightly tapping your left foot against the floor, you couldn't focus on Laswell's words. What if they didn't like the cookies - you were never able to make them both soft and chewy - or what if the muffins stuck to the muffin liners? Did you put too many chocolate chips in them?
"Y/N? What's your take on this?"
You looked at Price with an alarmed expression, panic bubbling up in your chest upon seeing the questioning looks of the others. You didn't catch the last part of the question - were they asking about your birthday? Laswell must have known, she was the one responsible for all the intelligence after all.
So you did what seemed the most logical thing to do. You opened the backpack and placed the plastic casseroles on the table, unaware that everyone else in the room was literally frozen in place.
"So yeah, it's my birthday today and I made some cookies and muffins and thought it would be nice to share them with you and… that's not what you were talking about, is it?"
Your words trailed as you realised that the timing wasn't as ideal as you planned. At least, now you were sure they hadn't known: Price's eyes were widened comically, and Gaz was repeatedly blinking at you in confusion and disbelief. Soap let out a thunderous laugh as he instantly pulled you into a bear hug and Ghost… you couldn't tell his expression under the mask, but the blank look in his eyes meant he was probably still wrapping his head around it
"How about we forget any of this happened and I do it again after the debrief is over?" A blush spread on your cheeks as you tried to put the casseroles back into the backpack, but you were stopped by Gaz's firm grip.
"Are you kidding? It's your birthday, we should celebrate - go out for drinks and do karaoke and-"
Price and Kate shared a knowing look between themselves and shook their heads in defeat. Before being able to ask them what was the matter, Kate closed the laptop and began to stuff the files back into the manilla folders
"Happy birthday, Y/N! We will resume this tomorrow. And now tell me, what kind of oats did you use for the cookies, plain or instant? My wife's been trying to make them this chewy, but she never seems to get the recipe right."
It was your turn to open your mouth in disbelief when you saw Price joining Kate at the table, securing a casserole of oat cookies just for themselves
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?", he asked in a gentle tone, fishing breadcrumbs from his moustache.
"I… It's not that important, I mean…"
You couldn't help but flinch when someone placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly, as if in reassurance. You turned your look to Ghost, who was holding a pink muffin in his gloved hand. His mask was lifted up to his nose, revealing his tight-lipped smile:
"Don't ever say that again, ok? That is all the more reason to celebrate it. You were the one who got us out safe from the bunker after all…"
And you could swear you saw his lips twitching into a smile, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes as he bit into the cupcake
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artbyblastweave · 3 months
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So, the thing about Ward's worldbuilding is, it's bad on purpose. This is something I didn't catch until a relisten of the earlier parts, but the disconnect between the actual literal apocalypse that occurred two years prior and the shockingly advanced levels of infrastructure and technology is very deliberate. The entire thing is slapdash and farcical. You have people out the door of a shitty concrete hovel lining up for bad coffee. You have cars built out of random scavenged parts, "dumpsters" that Victoria can't manhandle because they're made of clumsily-welded-together scrap metal. Victoria can't reliably navigate at night because power to the city below is intermittent (and her mother Carol happens to live in one of the parts that does have consistent power; that's unexamined, make of it what you will.) The mall cluster shitshow goes down in a "mall" that, IIRC, is called out later as having been basically a dead end economically, a doomed grasp at a sense of normalcy. The patrol block uses recycled PRT gear, Dot's interlude involves the machine army jumping a bunch of bog-standard apocalypse scavengers. What you're looking at isn't a new society built up shockingly quickly; you're looking at the previously-well-supplied-and-externally-supported outpost of the recently destroyed society, and after two years they're finally chewing through the last of the head start they got. The societal equivalent of Wile. E. Coyote hanging in the air above the cliff, or of the seemingly-untouched duelist seconds away from sliding in half. Unfortunately, due to choices made about the timeframe and focus of the story, the Coyote sprouts wings. The duelist whips out a staple gun. Or to come at this from another angle- in The Walking Dead, a comic I really like, I can sort of organize the arc of the apocalypse into three-ish big chunks. For the first eight or nine months in universe, about 48 issues, things are obviously bad, right, quite a few people have died, but there's a sense among Rick and company that they might be able to ride it out, that things are on the upswing. They've got crops going, they have new births, maybe help from the government proper isn't coming the way they thought it might towards the start, but things are looking up! Then, of course, the Great Fuckening of Volume Eight occurs, and you enter the middle phase of the comic, where they're down to like a third of their group, they're food-insecure, they're constantly on the move, they're under attack from rapists and cannibals who've descended into habitual atrocity because they're totally without hope. Children are having mental breaks and killing children, the first friendly guy Rick met in the whole comic is now an insane hermit feeding dead bodies to his undead son, on and on and on and on and on. Bad times, but a comparatively short middle in the grand scheme of things. Then they find Alexandria, and the back half of the comic is spent basically on an upward trajectory with some zig-zags, there are still periodic existential threats but they're clearly past the nadir.
Ward feels like it starts midway through that first part, the you-don't-know-how-much-worse-this-can-get part, with the emphasis on the social tensions, the encroaching winter, but then it just...doesn't get much worse. I mean they have a rough three months, but then they sort of speedrun right to the hopeful future ending as soon as the titans are dealt with. There were parts that I suspect were supposed to be the dark-night-of-the-soul I'm alluding to but they didn't land as such. I feel as though the superhero genre stuff kind of subordinated the apocalypse stuff, made it less visible by virtue of whose POV we were following, and sometimes I feel that as a remedy to this, Ward should have taken place over the course of years, and it should have Just Kept Getting Worse. For example Breakthrough should have had to kill and eat Rain to survive the winter
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lanadelnegan · 8 months
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Wildest Dreams
Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader
Song inspo: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift
Summary: Y/n's celebrity crush, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, makes her dreams come true when she meets him at a bar after the walking dead comic con.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, *Jeffrey is single*, plot, smut, sexual tension, cursing, sex, oral, daddy-kink
This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever, ahhh! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
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This can't be happening right now. I can't believe he's actually right there. I'm about to touch him.
"Well hello there." Jeffrey's smile widens as I approach his open arms. "What's your name, darlin'?"
"Y/n...Hi" I smile and let him wrap his arms around me.
"That is a beautiful name, y/n. You ready?"
"Yeah, but can we pose a different way though.. maybe looking at each other?" I ask, hoping he can't hear the nervousness in my voice.
"Absolutely, doll." He turns his body facing mine and gently places his fingers around my jawline, looking directly into my eyes and lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "Relax." His tone is soft but demanding.
The photographer counts to 3 but it feels like 10 because Jeffrey's hazel brown eyes are burning flames into mine. I swear this man is staring into my soul as if he can read every thought I've ever had about him. Including that one, because the left side of his mouth suddenly raises and he lets out a "negan-like" chuckle that only the two of us can hear.
I'm the first one to break away from our embrace and I can feel my cheeks redden as I take another glance at him. I make a mental note to never forget what he looks like in person and let my stare linger a little too long on his chest hair peeking out from his white t-shirt. His smirk grows wider and he leans down, putting his mouth next to my ear. "You... are adorable."
When he leans away, the smell of tobacco, leather, and sweet mint fills my lungs.
Even now as I sit in my car, his scent is burned into my nose and the front of my shirt.. I'll never wash it again. My eyes close and my head falls back against my driver's seat.
The rest of my evening is spent binge watching The Walking Dead -season 7 of course - and ordering too much room service. I should go out. I drove 3 hours to Austin, TX.. by myself, which is a big deal for me. I should at least explore the city while I'm here.
I shower and throw on some jean shorts and a cute top, pretending I'm not bothered by the fact that I just washed any trace of my parasocial boyfriend off of me. At least I have this. I hold the picture we took and study it for the 48th time today.
After google searching "nightlife in Austin", Sixth Street seems to be where it's at, so I head that way and although it's only 7 minutes away from my hotel, it takes me 30 to find parking. I have no clue where exactly I'm going or what I'm doing, but hell - I met Jeffrey Dean Morgan earlier. If I could do that, I could do anything. I apply some lip gloss and tell my anxiety to go fuck itself before climbing out of the car.
Bright neon signs from every building light up the street and I smile to myself at the couples holding hands walking past me. I browse around at my options for drinks - not food - because I destroyed $70 worth of room service earlier - and make out the faint sound of Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift coming from one of the pubs up ahead as if it's calling my name. "Shakespeare's." the old sign reads, and I know that's the one. I make my way into the mildly crowded pub, find a seat at the end of the bar, and don't waste any time ordering a drink.
I bring up the picture of Jeffrey and me on my phone and study it.. for the 49th time today. I'm lost in my thoughts when a deep voice fills my ear. "Shit. That is one handsome dude." He takes a seat next to me and orders himself a drink while I stare at him wide-eyed and unable to speak. Oh.. my god.
Jeffrey orders his drink and turns his body towards me slightly with that signature grin on his stupidly handsome face. He breaks the silence since my lips seem to be paralyzed at the moment.
"Tell me what you're thinking, y/n." ... he remembered my name.
"I'm thinking that there is no way this is real life right now." I grin and look around, trying to mentally focus on suppressing the redness in my cheeks.
He laughs as the bartender places his drink down. "Want me to pinch you?"
"You can do whatever you want to me." I say under my breath as I sip my drink, surprised by my liquid courage. If he heard me, he ignores it and I internally cringe at myself.
"Cheers, darlin'." We tap our drinks and I throw my head back to finish mine completely. I sense his gaze on me and turn to face him completely. "So.. What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" He fires back.
"Apparently having a drink with my celebrity crush." I laugh and cringe again. I need to stop.
"Crush? Me?" sarcasm drips from his smirk as he sips on his whiskey. "Would have never guessed.. not with the way you were blushing like hell during our picture."
My mouth drops open. "I was not!"
"No? Lemme see then." He nods towards my phone in my lap.
I pause hesitantly before handing him my phone and unlocking it for him. Bad idea. Instead of looking at our picture, he clicks on the camera button and turns it to selfie mode. He raises my phone in front of us and leans into me. I'm caught off guard but quickly lean into him, our faces touching and I smile as cool, calm, and collected as I can be in this moment.
He snaps a couple pictures of us and looks at them. "We are fucking cute as shit." He shows me and I laugh.
He pulls some glasses out of his jacket pocket and slides them on his face while holding my phone. I watch him in awe as he takes it upon himself to browse through my phone. My heart drops when he goes to the home screen and sees himself as my wallpaper with cute little hearts and cherries surrounding him. Fuck.
I wait for his reaction but it doesn't faze him. And if it does, he says nothing. He stares at the screen a little longer then finally glances at me with a smirk before turning his attention back to my phone. His thumb presses the tiktok icon and I watch curiously. He's not seriously about to suggest we make a tiktok together. Ick.
Worse. Instead, he clicks on my favorites and multiple squares of his face pop up - edits of him. I almost reach for my phone, but part of me likes that he sees it. What is wrong with me.
He looks at me and raises his brow. For the first time all night, I don't blush when he looks at me and it seems to amuse him because he chuckles and looks back at my phone. He clicks on one of the edits and watches himself on top of another woman kissing her passionately. I watch it with him unashamedly. Before it ends, he suddenly clicks my screen off and hands me my phone back.
"Why did you save that?" he asks with a serious tone.
"Uh, I jus - I liked it." I shrug.
"You like watching me make love to women?"
I laugh to myself. "Uhhh. Yeah, I guess so."
He pauses and stares at me, this time with a serious expression. "Do you wish it was you?"
My eyes widen and I open my mouth to answer but no words come out.
He stands and puts his jacket on. Oh great, I scared him. Good job y/n.
"Let's go." He throws a $100 on the bar and motions for me to stand up too.
I'm obviously not going to question this man. If he tells me to bark, I'll bark. I almost faint when I feel his big palm firmly placed right above my backside as we're leaving.
We exit the bar with our heads down as we quickly walk to his car. He opens the passenger side and I get in, waiting for him to appear on the other side. Leather, mint, and tobacco fill my lungs and I'm gone once again.
I'm so lost in my head that I don't even notice that he's already in the driver's seat. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"Don't ask me that. I don't even know anymore." My answer amuses him and he drives a few blocks away to one of the "rich" hotels. The entire ride over is awkward silence with the exception of Jeffrey blowing puffs of cigarette smoke towards the crack in his window every few moments.
"Y/n." He puts the car in park and turns towards me while flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling it up. "At any point tonight if you want to leave or.. you.. want me to stop, I need you to tell me, okay?"
I look at him and his face is the most serious I've seen it all day.
"Okay." I whisper.
"Come here." Is all he says before I'm leaned towards him over the middle console and so close to his face that our noses are touching. I wait for him to make the move but he doesn't. He looks down at my lips and sighs. "Fuck. I'm not going to kiss you."
I back away a little, feeling embarrassed before he continues explaining. He brings me back closer to him and his hand caresses my cheek. "I need you to understand that tonight is a one time thing, y/n. You.. you can't catch anymore feelings for me than you already have, okay? I'm going to make you feel good, but I'm not going to break your heart in the process."
The smell of his minty cigarette breath tempts me and I have to mentally restrain myself from not crashing into this man's lips. But I just nod instead.
"Good girl." Is all he says before he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door.
The way up to his room is quick and discreet. It's 11pm so we only pass two people on the way up and they didn't seem to recognize him. Even his hotel room is already filled with his signature scent, minus the tobacco.
"Would you like to stay the night with me, y/n?"
"Um, obviously. Are you kidding? ..Yes, I'd love to." I laugh and look around his room.
The lights are off, but the room is bright enough with the city lights shining through the windows. I fall into the bed dramatically on the side closest to the window.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable, okay?" he grins before closing the bathroom door. I stare back at the closed door and imagine what he looks like getting undressed behind it.
I glance around the large room and notice his phone sitting on the nightstand next to "his side" of the bed. He went through mine.. so it's only fair if I -
I reach over and grab his phone. 042266. I type in his birthdate and the phone locks. I laugh to myself. Too easy, old man.
There's a recent text message from.. my number? I click it and the picture he took of us at the bar pops up. And another one - our picture we took at comic con. He sent them to himself.
I don't want to intrude on his personal business too much, so instead I open his camera and take some goofy selfies. The bathroom door opens while I'm mid tongue out. He stops and stares at me as I slowly set his phone down on the bed. I shrug at him and he shakes his head a little and laughs. He appears in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. I turn my gaze away before I get carried away and my eyes get permanently glued to his torso.
"It's okay, y/n. You can look at me. In fact, I want you to."
I look back at him and don't even bother hiding how hard I'm checking him out now. I observe every hair on his chest and my eyes travel south until I'm imagining what he looks like under the towel. A lucky water drop runs down his flat stomach and disappears and I'm hoping the drool I just felt run down my chin was just my imagination. He walks slowly over to my side of the bed and stands next to me.
"You ready to find out what my cock looks like, y/n?"
If I was drinking water right now, I would have just spit it out all over him. I nod and he drops the towel. His cock springs free and I stare at it in awe. He's about 7-8 inches of thick perfection and I've never seen something so hot in my life. He looks down at himself, a proud smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Tell me one of your fantasies, y/n. We're not doing anything tonight that you haven't already thought about."
"I - well, one of them is.. putting it in my mouth." I look up at him innocently.
"What are you waiting for, then?"
I get up and push him gently for him to sit on the bed, then get on my knees in between his legs. If I weren't still buzzing from the drinks earlier, there is no way I'd have the confidence to do this.
He leans back slightly with his hands on either side of him on the bed and looks down at me through lust filled hazel eyes.
"It's all yours baby." He smiles and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth.
I slowly take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him - like man and fresh leather soap. I groan around him as I take him further and the growl that escapes his throat encourages me to take him as far in the back of my throat as I can.
"Fuuuck baby." His deep voice strains and I watch as his head fall back with pleasure. I continue steadily sucking him and stroking where my throat won't reach. His moans grow louder with each time he hits the back of my throat.
He suddenly thrusts his hips up slightly, causing me to gag and jolt back a little.
"Goddamn it, y/n. You are not making me cum yet." He hanks my hair back and his cock pops out of my mouth and stands strong against his stomach. It's big and wet and throbbing, and my legs clench together and the sight of him.
I stand up and take my shirt off, then my bra. Then slowly slide my shorts and panties down while facing away from him. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he wastes no time grabbing me and throwing me on the bed. He positions me until my head is on the bed and my ass in the air before I feel his cock press against my soaked pussy from behind. He rubs himself against my wet slit until I'm whimpering and begging him to put it in me.
"Beg for me, baby." He slaps my ass and the sensation causes me to jump a little.
"Please, Jeffrey. I need you. Please."
"Baby, now I know that's not what you call me in your fantasies, is it?" Another slap to my bare ass makes me yelp.
"Daddy.. please!"
His dark chuckle fills the room and every one of my senses is on fire. His scent, his voice, his dick all surround me until I'm crying and pleading for this man to ruin me. "Please daddy, I need you. Please."
"Sorry, princess. I'm taking my time with you." He flips me over suddenly until I'm laying flat on my back. His knees push mine apart, signaling me to spread open for him until he positions himself above me. He leans over me until our faces are inches apart.
My hands roam over his lean body and scratch his back lightly as his lips travel down my neck. His hard cock slides back and forth between my slit and it feels too good every time it brushes my sensitive clit.
"Goddamn, you are soaking my fucking cock and I haven't even put it inside you yet, baby." he groans and bites my nipple gently before taking it into his mouth and sucking so hard it hurts.
He finally leans up, sitting on his knees, and positions his cock right at my entrance.
"Was I or gentle or rough in your fantasies?" He rubs the head against my clit before sliding it back down. My pussy is weeping for him at this point.
"Rough.. please." I choke out.
"Please.. what?" He growls.
"Please daddy!"
He chuckles. "You want it rough baby?" I nod and a tear runs down my cheek at how bad I need him.
"Be careful what you ask for." In one motion, he enters me fully, causing me to scream out at the sudden sensation. My body feels like it was just completely ripped in half, and I wouldn't want it any other way so I cry out for him to do it again. He smirks before pulling out all the way and ramming himself back in.
He starts thrusting at a steady pace and I concentrate on the way his balls feel slapping against me.
Even more tears fall from my face from the extreme emotions he's making me feel. Horny, desperate, obsessed, in.. love.
Fuck.
"Baby. Why are you crying?" He slows his pace and leans over me, assessing my eyes.
"I - I don't know. I - I just.."
"You want me to stop?" his voice is filled with lust and concern.
"No! .. No, don't stop. I just.."
I love you.
"I want it slower." I lie.
"Y/n.. I know you better than that already." He says gently as he thrusts into me deep and agonizingly slow. His lips brush over my ear. "Tell me, baby." He kisses my neck before grabbing my jaw firmly and looking for answers in my eyes. "Tell me, y/n, or I'm stopping."
I close my eyes and blurt out before I can stop myself. "I - I think I love you."
Jeffrey's expression falls serious and he looks back and forth between my eyes while slowly releasing my jaw. His head drops and his eyes close as if he just got slapped, but he continues fucking me.
"Goddamn it, y/n... I told you.. I told you not to catch feelings."
I just stare at him and cry. "I'm sorry."
He closes his eyes again tightly as if contemplating what he should do next. Before I can say anything else, his lips crash against mine. I kiss him back passionately and his tongue slips into my mouth. He picks up the pace with our kiss and his hips and I moan into his mouth.
"Fuck, baby. What am I gonna do with you?" his breathing grows faster and heavier with mine.
"Jeffrey.. fuck, I'm - I'm."
"Cum for me, baby." He growls and quickens his thrusts again.
I scream out for him and he moans into my neck.
"Jeffrey.. you know what else I fantasize about?" I ask him while trying to catch my breath.
"What's that, baby?" His balls slap against me over and over and over.
"What you taste like when you cum."
He lifts his head to look at me and paints a devilish grin across his face. "Yeah? You want me to cum in that pretty mouth, baby?"
I nod without question. I've dreamt about what this man tastes like for so long. If this is our one and only night together, I need to know.
"Fuck." He pulls out of me and leans back on his knees, bringing my head with him as his fingers tightly grip my hair.
"You ready, baby? Open up." His voice is deep and hoarse as he moans out and I swear I've never heard a man sound as sexy as he does right now.
His warm, salty cum fills my throat and I greedily swallow every drop of him, licking his tip until he's completely drained.
"Holyyy shit. Look at my dirty girl." He grins down at me and strokes my hair like he's proud.
He drops down in the bed and holds his arm out for me to lay next to him. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his rapid heart beat. A few minutes pass and I'm hoping he forgot about my little comment earlier. Well - big comment. I can't believe I told him I love him. I mean, I do love him and I think I have for awhile now, but why did I have to be a psycho and tell him that.
He finally breaks the silence. "Y/n.. We have to talk about it."
I sigh. Here it goes. "I know.. listen.. I didn't mean it. Obviously, I barely know you. I was caught up in the moment and I was just.. emotional. I promise I'm - I'm not crazy. I know this is a one time thing and I'm okay with that."
"Hmph." I feel his chest rise a little and he sighs. I lift my head up to look at him and he smiles wide at me before kissing my lips.
"That's too bad y/n.. Cause I was thinking we could do this again tomorrow."
The End.
If you read this, thank you so much. This is my first time writing fanfiction, so pls be nice. If you hate it, I'll cry. :') Xo,kb.
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brightgoat · 3 months
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Hey hi! I’ve been an avid follower of yours for awhile for your Pucci art but, this green child au has me hooked more and more lately! Your art is stunning by the way, thank you for posting!! The final metamorphosis panel has me excited for the next installment you share ngl.
Anyways, I was wondering if I could ask a few things about it? Specifically, what has happened after O-moon came into the picture, and the buildup to part 13 and 14? Of course if you wish to keep things vague or don’t know, there’s no need to answer! I’m just curious.
When did Jotaro get alerted to the incident and decided to finally come around? Did he encounter Pucci first or Jolyne? After the revelations that O-moon revealed to Jolyne, how did her perceptions of her father and Pucci shift? Did Jolyne ever figure out what Pucci was most likely about to do to FF while they were cornered by him? Have you thought about how Weather Report factors into this AU at all (since he’s probably in prison at this point)?
Sorry for the bombardment, and again no pressure to answer these if you don’t wish to!
- Kimera
Greetings! Thank you very much for the compliment, hope the payoff to that comic was satisfying haha
So, I wanna keep things vague with this AU, telling the main story beats through images and short comics- not only cuz I like it that way but also cuz... I haven't decided a lot of the details hahaha-
Answering this via lore dump, hope you like reading, this can be just one of many ways it could've happened:
I imagined that while Pucci and Jolyne were out getting souls, Jotaro was studying whatever is left of Dio's followers, and eventually tracks down Pucci, and travels to the US. Perhaps he finds out Pucci has been tutoring Jolyne from Jolyne's mum (who knows maybe they reconnected).
Oh and yes, Jolyne's mum knows abt Pucci, but of course not who he really is.
During this, Jolyne has awakened the Green Baby and fused with it. Jotaro may even sense that something is wrong through their family psychic bond thing.
Jotaro, realizing Pucci is a step ahead of him by already taking in his own daughter, tracks Pucci down to the church and confronts him there, sparing no time and going straight to beating answers out of him, where's Jolyne, what happened to her, what's your plan etc.
I had this thought, that once Jolyne fuses with the green baby, she inherits a bit of Dio's knowledge, and it helps her realise she's been getting used by Pucci all along. Not only that, she inherits the will to go to Heaven, and it drives her to complete the plan, she's strung along by fate now.
Now obviously she feels betrayed by Pucci, but still sympathetic to him, and rescues him from Jotaro. She's conflicted, she's angry, the only reason both Pucci and Jotaro reached out was because of some bigger-than-her plot, and not because of herself. She doesn't know how much of what Pucci gave her was genuine or because of her use to him.
(had this idea for a scene that right after Jolyne rescues Pucci, all three of them are still in church and Pucci realises she's transformed, he yells for her to stay still so he can get Whitesnake to take whatever's inside her out, but as soon as Whitesnake reaches out, a hand bursts out, he thinks it's Stone Free and suddenly JUMPSCARE O-Moon jumps out at him and the reversed-gravity throws everyone away from her-)
The only friend she has left is FF, and yes she finds out what Pucci did to them, furthering her anger. So she drags FF along with her, they are eachothers' only allies here, and although FF doesn't fully understand what's happening to Jolyne, they'll stay by her side (cue the uhhhh 'oh jolyne gave me so many memories and memories make up my intellect so i owe her yadda yadda-')
Aaaaand as for Weather, yeah mf's still in prison lmao I haven't thought too much about him. I wanted this to focus on Jolyne and Pucci, though if I did turn this AU into an entire actual story, Weather would probably come up at some point. God knows how though lmao-
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 3 months
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apollo, hades and hermes reacting to his fem s/o gets transformed into her younger self (around 12 lets say) and now grown so is just epitome of sweetheart and loving person but when she was younger, she was such a hater! like even maybe hate man because of unsaid stuff and just judging everyone around and them, with that “stink” face (i hope you know what face i am talking about lol), she gets back to normal after 2 weeks so how would they react to younger version of his s/o?
-(Love’s) eyelid could only twitch, staring down at his lover, you… well you from several years ago. You had somehow reverted to twelve years old, and you had no memory of him.
-He had called around, hearing that this had happened all over Valhalla, but the good news was that you would return to normal, like the others, after a few hours.
-(Love) smiled, coming back to where he had left you on the couch, scrolling through your phone, “You’ll be back to normal in just a few hours Y/N!”
-You rolled your eyes, your lip curling up for being interrupted as you scoffed, “Whatever.”
-Comical tears appeared in his eyes, he had no idea that you had been so…salty when you were younger. It didn’t fit as you were always just a sweet and gentle person; you would sometimes cry if someone would raise their voice at you, so to see you like this was… unusual.
-He just smiled, trying to be friendly and make the best of the situation, sitting beside you but giving you your space, as you made that very clear when he first found you like this, “Won’t you be happy to be back to your normal self?”
-You looked at him over the top of your phone, a slight glare on your face, “I’ll be happy to get away from you and your stupid haircut.”
-Apollo- The back of his hand lifted to his mouth, appalled by your words as he turned pure white in horror before he fell from the couch in slow motion, landing face down on the ground where he quickly was in tears. You weren’t bothered, putting your headphones on as you played your game. Apollo could only pray that you would change back soon- he wants his sweet Y/N back! When you returned to normal you weren’t allowed to leave his lap as he covered you in kisses, wanting you to be sweet like you always were.
-Hades- Ouch- okay that hurt, and he felt his eyelid twitching at your snark. He raised three brothers; this was going to be nothing!! Two hours later Hades was at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, two empty coffee cups before him. He didn’t know how your parents were able to deal with you as you broke him. He snuggled you extra hard when you returned to normal, taking out his aggression on you in the form of cuddles.
-Hermes- Had turned to stone, completely shocked that you were so salty and mean. He just thought you were scared, that’s why you were so distant from him, but to hear you insult him, being mean- his brain short circuited. Hermes was very pouty that evening, hugging you from behind while you cooked dinner, now back to normal and you smiled warmly, “You’re awfully affectionate tonight.” He didn’t respond, hugging you tighter, glad to have you back to normal.
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chamiryokuroi · 10 months
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My thoughts on Tim Drake: Robin #10 heavy spoilers under the cut
First of all got to say it wasn’t a bad ending if we consider they had to wrap up this arc in such a short amount of time, gotta give it to Meghan she managed to figure out a way to answer as many questions as possible and give us a relatively good ending for a series that I feel was canceled with no reason.
You can definitely feel that the story was planned to be done in more issues, the building blocks are all there for an amazing arc and it is sad we had to condense it all in one issue.
Now into a more in depth analysis of the comic of my favorite parts.
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The Labyrinth was such and interesting point I wish we could have seen more of, specially with the fact this is the cult if Dionysus.
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I absolutely adore the fact that Bernard is fully aware of Tim’s identiry because we get such funny interactions like this where Pie honestly thinks Tim is cheating on Bernard with Robin, and that panel of Bernard laughing because of that is one of my favorites for sure, boy is having so much fun, as he should.
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Now in a more serious tone, this two panels tells us so much of how Tim feels, how insecure he is of his own place, not only on his family, but in the world as a whole. That second panel specifically where we see Bernard having fun while Tim is just on the bg, knowing how hard it must be for Tim to wrap his head around his sexuality even now, a year after coming out and starting dating Bernard, this feels realistic, sometimes when you come out later in life it feels as if you do not fit exactly with the community, and it can be hard to find your place.
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If I had a nickel for every time a creepy cult tried to recruit Tim into their ranks I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it is weird that it keeps happening.
This is honestly another point that feels like it was meant to be explored for longer before the cancelation notice came. At least it gives us an explanation of why Kate was acting the way she was, it took me a while to get it but basically after Tim saved Bernard from the cult back in Urban Legends Kate went around hunting down those that managed to escape, one of them being the son of this man that appears to be the leader of the cult, the son then took his own life and Kate was taken into the labyrinth, were we know Tim was being pumped with some hallucinogen gas of some sort, depending on how long she was on the labyrinth before managing to escape that might explain her memory loss, again this is all theorizing with what we are given since there wasn’t much space for it to be explain as it should.
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And now we go back to Bernard who is looking around for Tim, going to all the people that knew him as Robin, and then those words “Tim takes care of everyone… but sometimes he needs someone to take care of him” hits me straight on the feels, Bernard is such a supportive boyfriend, he is definitely what Tim needs, someone that is there for him, not only for Tim, but also Robin.
Also the fact that Bernard is making his own homemade bat-signal with his hands is just adorable to me. Boy could had probably drove to Bruce’s house, but he doesn’t need Bruce’s help right now, he needs Batman.
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And of course Batman responds. Bruce why were you following Bernard? Anyways, yet another great speech from Bernard “I thought you might be a ghost. Or you weren’t real. But the truth is you look sort of normal. Like regular-people normal.” Leave it to Bernard to understand exactly what Batman is, just a normal man trying to help as best as he can.
And then he says Tim needs help, not Robin, Tim. This is just Bernard out right telling Bruce “I know, and I don’t care, because Tim is in problem and you got to find him”
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And then we get the best thing, Bernard, and Tim’s friends and family, rushing in to save him, just as he was losing hope of managing to leave the labyrinth alive. Absolutely in love with Bernard’s long ass coat.
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And then we get to my favorite page. The uncertainty if it is really him or another hallucination, the confirmation that it is him, it is Bernard, here to save Tim. The hug, the way Tim is holding Bernard’s face, the only thing that would had made this better would had been a kiss.
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And then we get to the ending, not much to say here, I just love these two pages, Tim just finally realizing he doesn’t need to be anyone else, that he can be himself and that he is right where he belong, and that he can be happy with that. The best ending we could have hope for with what we were allowed to have.
There are obviously many questions left unanswered.
What was exactly the Cult of Dionysus? Where did it came from?
What’s going on with Bernard’s parents?
What’s up with Moriarty? Who was his boss? What was his deal with Robin/Tim??
I am sad TD:R ended the way it did, had it been given the time to develop I feel it would had gotten better. But I am glad we managed to get as much as we did, now we just have to wait and see what will DC do now with Tim, and if Bernard will stay relevant or will they brush him under the rug.
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silly-inky · 7 months
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Luigi's Hair
Booigi comic and Luigi headcanon!
Also Peach and Luigi being besites
(More details of post and headcanon at the end) ( I would have made seperate images for the first few slides, but tumblr only let's me have 10 slides 🥲)
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My headcanon for Luigi:
My headcanon in this post is the white streak's in Luigi's hair, this is because of Thunderhand. Since Luigi is human and comes from a world without magic, his body isn't built to properly hold it, so when he received thunderhand it took a long while for his body got used to it.
Luigi went overboard a few times with it while his body was adjusting to the new magic which caused a lot of harm, the scars on his hands and along his arms and the white streaks in his hair where caused by putting his body under a lot of stress from overusing the power. Like he was struck by lightning.
Luigi can live with the scars, they aren't his first and they probs won't be the last, but his hair was a bit more if a sensitive spot for him.
When it first happened Mario made a joke about how he looked like an old man with his hair and jittery hands (a short time side effect of thunderhand) and although it was meant as a joke, it really got to Luigi, so he dyed his hair for ages. Mario and Peach were the only two people that knew. Peach saw how it effected his already low self esteem, so she and Mario have been working hard on slowly building up his self confidence.
(What happens in the first few pannles) Luigi has just come back from a week long adventure with Mario, the next morning after they got back he got a shower and saw that his dye was fading and his roots had grown out. So he went to pay Peach a visit, it's here where Peach finally convinces Luigi to stop dying his hair as she doesn't think it's needed and that he actually suits it well.
Peach knew that Luigi would still be a bit nervous about washing it out completely and finally committing to the look, so in an effort to make him feel more comfortable in himself, she had him put on a new outfit that they had bought a few days before the adventure to help boost his confidence.
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I realise that I haven't made a booigi post in a hot minute, and believe it or not I've been working on this one since the middle of September (I probs could have gotten done in a week but procrastination is a b) so I thought I would sneak some booigi in here
Anyways happy spooky month ( and Friday the 13th) and I hope you like it
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lovesick-feelings · 1 year
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UPDATE: This is just a repost for the tags. The original reblog will be kept up! Original AU made by @soleilxe please go check out their blog they are a genius (๑♡ ⌓♡๑)
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I had to get this one out in case the DLC mysteriously dropped out of nowhere! (ʘᗩʘ’)
I absolutely love this AU so much! I am telling you rn that when I first read this I couldn't stop thinking about it and i was so sad that it was never expanded! So I ended up drawing a small comic (this is like my first time doing something like this so sorry if its messy! ) and that was supposed to be it but I ended up writing a short fic as well (⌒_⌒;) Btw this is just my spin on things so sorry if I made any errors!
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"Irreparable," the company claimed. It made no sense to Sun and Moon. From what they know the incident occurred the night an unexpected visitor came by. On the morning management came in, they were met with their main star missing, busted animatronics, and a disheveled mall. To think that the boy they met that fateful night caused all this was… strange, to say the least. At least they were perfectly fine! Yeah, they had a bit of trouble avoiding the flames resulting in slight damage but they were working! With a few repairs and replacements, everything would be right as rain! However, that didn't stop Fazbear Mall from permanently shutting its doors. 
Even after conversations they overheard between co-workers, workers leaving as soon as they arrived with salvaged valuables, and the final click of the lock shutting the doors permanently, Sun was in denial. 
"They'll come back for us! We'll just have to wait till then!" Although Moon was still troubled by the events that night, he still held onto hope.
"Yes, yes you're right. In the meantime, we should clean up~" 
"That's the spirit!" Sun cheered.
The first few months played out like this: waiting and cleaning up whatever they could in anticipation that the company or someone would return. However, those beliefs slowly slipped away with each passing month. Sun tried so hard to keep them distracted from their situation but it’s difficult when you wake up in the same hell every day. Nowadays when he tries to comfort Moon every word comes out unsteady. If only he could make them more believable.
Moon couldn't handle it. It was all his fault. If he'd just fought back none of this would have happened. But how could you fight against something you didn’t know was coming? The night he became corrupted haunted him endlessly. It didn’t help that they also became more beat-up after several failed escapes he made. Though he was grateful for his brother's support, it felt more like lies and empty promises as time passed. Failure after failure, shame, and guilt built up. It was always at his lowest when he felt the same corrupt urges he had that fateful night back.  
"SHUT IT! JUST SHUT IT! IT'S THE SAME THING EVERY SINGLE DAY! NO ONE IS COMING FOR US!!" 
"...sorry" Sun whimpered. 
It was always too late by the time he snapped back to his senses. It was like he was stuck in an endless loop of mistakes. All he could do was apologize and blame himself again.
With no business and no people to tend to days have been spent pacing and cleaning the decrepit daycare. Today was no different. Sun wiped his hands in the desk cabinet causing thick layers of dust to fly in every direction. Every item out of place has already been put back in its original spot long ago. All there was left was the tedious task of wiping away dust.
Moon never understood why he was so keen on getting into the smallest crevices. He couldn’t deny he had his fastidious tendencies but Sun always went above him. He always claimed it was a good way to pass time but Moon knew better. Even with the new body allowing both of them to be present at once Sun still was never the biggest fan of shutting down for long periods. Normally, Moon would push him into resting but Sun seemed to be in a better mood today and he didn't want to disturb him.
The crash of crumbling rubble made them jump from their spot. It was loud enough to hear across the daycare. Their eyes were drawn to the ceiling and they noticed a huge hole. Sun frowned. Was the building finally caving down?
"Must've been a rat"
"whAT?-" Sun choked out.
"What do you mean by a rat? A rat does not cause a hole in the ceiling to collapse!" Moon's only response was a shrug. From where they were it looked like it was around the ball pit area.
"Let’s check it to see-"
"NO"
"WhaT WHy?" Sun’s voice glitched from surprise. He didn’t expect such a sudden response.
"Because it's most likely nothing. The building is just deteriorating again…" He stated plain and simple.
"Well yes but-” Sun paused for a moment, “B-but we may as well check to make sure nothing is wrong!" Moon didn't respond. It’s going to be nothing again and he really wasn’t up for disappointment. Knowing Sun, they were bound to end up there regardless.
"Okay," he grumbled. Moon could feel Sun slightly bounce up. He sighed as they walked around the desk and towards the ball pit. As they continue their journey, Sun can sense Moon slowing down.
"Moon, what's wrong?-"
"Shhh listen" Sun paused. He didn't know what he was trying to listen to but he did so anyway. There was something in the distance. Were those… footsteps? The bots trudged closer to the sound quietly. For the first time in ages, their sensors picked up someone.
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"Dammit..."
This was your fifth time wiping your clothes off debris. You knew buildings like this had weak floors but you didn't expect it to give in that easily! You would say you’ve been through worse but you’ve never been through something like this. You’re honestly not sure if watching Youtube videos of failed urban exploring counts as an experience. 
This was supposed to be your biggest project yet. Entering the abandoned Pizzaplex had been done before but nobody had ever explored past the ground floor. You had one goal: Record as much exploration as your camera storage will allow, upload all footage to your channel, and satisfy the hungry viewers with the possibility of getting that sweet YouTube money. What you hadn’t anticipated was falling through the floor and being trapped in one of the areas 30 minutes into your exploration. Now you have to find a way out.
 You looked back at the ball pit and shuddered, thinking of what might have happened if it hadn't stopped your fall. Walking over the chipped rainbow bridge you pulled out your flashlight and observed what was in front of you. You had to admit the place didn’t age as badly as you thought! It has its flaws from the fire but you were surprised by how much stuff still survived.
The bright cheery colors that once painted this daycare have dulled to darker hues. Somehow the kid's chairs were neatly pushed into the tables and toy barrels were still stacked on top of each other. You looked over the massive play structure. They were still standing strong and tall beside some large dark spots in some areas which you assumed was also caused by the fire. A few of the giant mascot cutouts were hanging on the sides while others that had fallen were carefully propped up against the walls. When you shined your light on one of the aisles, the light didn't reach much distance.
"Geez this place is huge..."
You took a few steps before hearing a scuffle. For a second, you assumed it was some small animal. At least that's what you hoped it was. You were about to turn back when you heard it again. You whipped your flashlight in the sound’s direction.
"Hello!?" You kinda cringed at how hoarse your voice came out. You darted your flashlight for a bit until you caught it. You froze. How long was it standing there? You pointed your light at the animatronic.
Even from a distance, you could tell how huge the animatronic were. A split separated the two sides, which gave the appearance of two heads. Among them, one half had dark yellow skin and a crown that resembled rays from the sun, while the other half had darker blue skin with a nightcap resembling a moon. Each had two pairs of arms. Their clothes or at least what remained of them were tattered. Parts of their endoskeleton are exposed most noticeably on their face. Their glowing eyes pierced your soul. What felt like hours of silence were finally broken when their soft chuckles turned into hysterical laughter.
"NEW FRIEND!!"
"NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!" You bolted in the opposite direction of the playground. As you ran you tried dodging as much debris as you could without falling over. As you approached the wall you could see large wooden doors. That's the exit! You weren't able to slow down your speed in time causing you to slam your arm against the door. Thanks to your adrenaline pumping you couldn't feel a thing. You tried pulling open the door only to hear clicking noises. IT’S FUCKING LOCKED!!!
“New friend!”
“New friend~”
“New friend!”
Their calls were growing closer.
You looked around until you crawled into one of the kiddie slides. You climbed your way up, lying flat on your stomach. You were pretty high up. There was no way they could see you as long as you didn't lean against the bars. The metal grating grows louder as the robot approaches where you once stood.
"N-new friend please cOME BaCK!!" He wailed in distress like a mother trying to find her lost infant.
“Shhh you’re going to scare them~” You gritted your teeth. Yeah, like they hadn’t scared you to death already. Unlike the other voice, this one was hushed and calm. As if it was a situation he knew all too well. The other voice gasped and quietly apologized. 
"Where are you, new friend?~" There was intense silence. They let out what sounded like a disgruntled sigh before the scraping faded away. Once you were sure they were gone you took a breath of relief. You didn't realize you were holding your breath the whole time. Your heartbeat was so loud you were afraid they would hear it. 'What even was that…?' You tried to recollect your thoughts. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't comprehend what was happening. When you tried thinking back about what happened all your mind could replay was the moment you stared into their ghostly irises.
'Okay, that's enough…’ You sat up. Another deep breath calmed your heart. There has to be another way out of here. You peer through the cage. From your vantage point, you couldn’t get much. There were only two things you could see from where you were: the front desk and the children's pit in front of it. You had to get a better view but how? You sure as hell wasn’t about to sneak down again. You looked towards the bridge connecting the two playgrounds. Despite its aging, it still looked sturdy enough to cross. Maybe this was your chance? You didn’t want to risk getting caught but you also didn’t want to die either. Well, there's only one way to find out… 
A small knock made you recoil back. You turned your head to the slide you came from. No. There’s no way they could get in here. With how big and clunky the animatronic look, they’d probably fall apart the moment you hit them. 
Upon getting up, you were met with jelly legs. You're gonna have to crawl this one out. You navigated carefully through the colorful maze. The number of dead ends you ran into got ridiculous. Sometimes you felt like you were crawling in circles until you finally found it. You silently cheered for yourself. The bridge was only a turn away!
Something wrapped around your ankle before you took another step. Your head spins to see several pairs of hands gripping your ankle. You couldn't scream before those hands brutally dragged your body down the slide. The suddenness of it all caused your head to bang against a turn. You hit the floor with a loud thud holding your head. All you could do was lay limp on the foam flooring. What even happened? You could feel your head throbbing from the pain. A giant shadow loomed over your figure. Rough, metal arms wrap themselves around you in a cold embrace. 
“Found you, friend, ~” The two laughed together making a strange combination of a cackle and a giggle. You wish you could fight back but you feel so nauseous and weak. All you could do was stand there awkwardly as you got crushed. Dread overwhelms your body.
“We were so worried about you, friend! You shouldn’t run away like that! I-I mean what if you got lost or h-URT!?” Their grasp on you was tightened as he spoke. The voice coming from what you assumed was the sun’s side made you tense up. His voice made your ears start ringing. Was he always this panicky?
“Now, now there’s no need for that anymore.” His hand cupped your cheek tilting it so you could face them.
“It won’t happen again~” The drop in his voice made it sound like a death threat.
“Besides-" He resumed back to himself.
"Think of all the fun we'll have together~!” Sun’s eyes lit up. 
“Oh, you’re right! We have so many activities we could do now that we’re together!” They easily pull you up and swing your body around. 
“We’ll have soooooo much fun~!” Moon chuckled
“We could play charades!” 
“And tell stories~!” 
“Oh oh, we could finger paint too! I haven’t done that in so long!!” The two exchanged enthusiastic opinions about everything they planned. 
You honestly felt like you would puke. It was too loud. Your head was throbbed and your whole body was aching. Everything felt so overwhelming. You didn’t care about exploring anymore, you just wanted to go back to the comfort of your home. You tried holding back the tears brimming in your eyes. The robots tensed when they heard soft hiccups. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Your body was lowered, bringing you closer together. Moon’s eyes widened while Sun’s eyelids drooped when they realized you were crying. 
“Friend, what's wrong?” Your cry turned into a full-blown sob. Sun and Moon quickly sat down. Laying you on their lap, they gently rocked you back and forth with their arms propping you up. Your sobbing could be heard throughout the whole daycare all the while Sun and Moon tried calming you down. They rubbed circles around your back whispering reassurances. 
“It’s alright~” 
“You’re safe now!”
“There’s no need to cry~” Their hands whipped your tears away. Your body becomes less tense.
“Did we do this?” You opened your eyes realizing they were looking at your head. Their concern was evident. You flinched when their fingers grazed the area you hit.
“Oh sorry! I-I-I didn't meAn tO do THat! WE-”
“Sun.” Moon interrupted
“We can fix this. As long as we follow instructed procedures they will be fine~”
“Oh right right! Sorry about that, friend” You could feel their fingers tenderly stroking your hair. They cradled your body while whispering soothing words.
You could’ve easily pushed them away and made a run for them, but you didn’t have the motivation to do so. You were beyond tired to fight back. It was getting harder to hold up heavy eyelids and the animatronic also seemed to realize this.
“Shhh rest~ You will feel better after a good sleep~” You had to admit their voice was comforting. This couldn’t be so bad right? They seemed nice enough. So it was okay to shut your eyes for a bit. You lifted your eyes one more time to see theirs. If only you were more awake you would’ve caught their lovesickness plastered on their faces gazing at you. Maybe then you’d realized sooner the situation you were now trapped in. You felt two soft taps on your forehead, mocking a kiss before slipping into darkness.
“Goodnight, Starlight~”
“Goodnight, Sunshine!”
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nexerist · 1 month
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Heyyyyy, so I got into writing since work hasn't given me time to actually work on my art. It will soon be resolved in a few weeks, then back to posting more often. I am making a comic again and almost done with it so I don't promise projects that won't come.
Enough about me, and let's get to you! This is a thunderstorm comfort I wrote a while back on AO3 and forgot to post it here. My collection is called Nebula Kisses. This one-shot can be seen as platonic or romantic, next one is more on the romance side but still can be platonic if you wish. But so I don't clog your feed, I'll post the next chapter tomorrow or later but within the week!
I also apologize for the weird formatting, this was written on my phone during the time so I don't have the fancy indents or proper grammar check.
Thank you for sticking around with my inconsistencies, I wish I had more time.
So much love,
Nexi
Breath |Sun/Moon x Scared!Reader|
[Power had gone out, leaving Sun and Moon to look for you in the dark. However, you are absolutely horrified of thunderstorms.]
The daycare was lit up during the town wide blackout. The rumbling generators along with the constant loop of the daycare music, Sunnydrop was busy awaiting got his favorite visitor. Who might that be, well none other than the security guard who is ordered to look out for the lobby, green rooms, and of course, the daycare. Y/N is what they call themselves, which Sunny really liked that when they mentioned it to him, he walked around repeating it like a song.
But they were late, a half hour late. He taps his foot impatiently, he checks the attendance and sees that they did clock in. What were they doing? Did they get lost? It's impossible to miss his big daycare! Surely you didn't forget either, his lovely face was everywhere, that had to remind you to check on him.
A quiet rumble of the storm outside rang through the building. According to the weather, it was going to be a rough and long storm ahead. Heard it was going to last until morning.
Sun, getting impatient, decided to look for them himself. Feeling confident, he takes his long strides to the daycare door, his hand reaching for the door knob. He felt himself pause for just a moment. He hasn't really left daycare, not that he can't leave, but it was risky. Last time he left was to take care of that rulebreaker and set up some banned signs around Kids Cove, but that was the furthest he went in a very long time. Sun was still very angry about it, but it did reopen the daycare after Freddy left. So maybe he should forgive him? Nah, he needs to apologize first.
Sun shakes his head, he was getting off track. He opens the daycare door, mind back on his mission. To find his Starshine. He takes his long strides, making sure to stay near the light and flashing signs. The easy part was now over as he got to the entrance door that faced the slide back into his daycare.
As soon as he opened the door with great confidence, he saw that is was pitch black. Maybe his friend did get lost, with this darkness and no flashlight, it would be nearly impossible to find him! Not taking into consideration of muscle and location memory. He felt Moon stirring from inside.
“Moon, sorry to wake you up from your nap. Our dear friend is missing and I had hope to do it myself! But uh... Looks like I can't do much.” He spoke aloud. Silence rang through his head, awaiting for his alter ego to speak.
Moon was recently having a fit, and not talking. This happened since Eclipse disappeared into the arcade cabinet when he was playing that discount floppy bird game. Moon had tried to get him out by playing the game, but something happened to him too. He became mostly unresponsive, giving out short phrases or sentences.
Sun would hear his alter giggle, which relieved Sun that Moon was at least in a good mood. Sun takes in a false breath of courage and walked into the dark. If he could close his eyes, he would've. The familiar pain in his face shocked through him, making him grab at it. He feels his rays click into his head on at a time, unlocking his chest compartment which his infamous hat was held in. It started from his fingers, the oranges and silver turned to white and blue.
Sun felt himself pull back and release control. He now stood outside and watched Moon take his hat and place it up on his head. Moon crouched down and stretches his legs, then start crawling on the floor towards the wall. Sun, not wanting to be alone, would do his best to follow.
“Little Star has gone missing.” Is what Moon would say before climbing up the wall and opening a vent to crawl through. He started to giggle and cackle, it echoing through the building and alerting that Moon was out early. The glamrocks retreating to their green rooms as to not go to parts and services.
*×*×*×*×*×*
You had entered the building on time, rarely ever late. Today has been storming hard, the rain pattering hard on the glass of the lobby entrance. Things were up and normal, doing your normal tasks. Checked stock, picked up any lost and found items to either throw away or await for the owner to come in the next day to pick it up. As you head into lost and found, that was when you heard it. It started as a small rumble before the sky roared a building shaking thunder, knocking the power out.
You have always been afraid of thunder since you were young. Not that you could explain it to anyone without the fear of being made fun of for a childish fear. It wasn't childish to you, it was real, the sense of dread and fear that paralyzed you proved it. You drop to the floor, staying as close to the ground as you could. If you could just find your flashlight, you had to crawl around a bit to then heard another rumble.
It took your breath away, your hands shaking as you retrieve the flashlight. Trying to find some solace in the light, you put your thumb on the switch and pushed up. Click. Click-click. Nothing. The flashlight, so cheap that it doesn't even last a hour with full charge, was dead and the charging stations were down. You were in the dark, the loud storm rattling the outside shutter doors, making it very loud and overwhelming.
You grab a blanket from the shelf and put it over you and your head. It just felt safer when surrounded by the soft fabric. Peaking through the opening, you hesitantly get on your feet again. You still had a job to do, but it was going to be slower. You would like your paycheck still and you knew how stingy the company was, taking your panic and finding a way to no pay you.
You would manage to get out of lost and found in the dark. On your way out, a little glow in the dark Monty was resting in a stroller. It must've been left behind but picking it up, it still had its tag and security pin. Rather, someone tried to steal it. It did produce light, enough to get around at least. However, these toys don't glow in the dark for too long. Got maybe, a solid twenty minutes? It's been dark for five, so fifteen. You did your best to scamper to the green rooms and peak around.
You arrive and you see the famous glamrocks interacting with each other. Monty with Roxy and Chica, heading back towards their respective rooms. Monty had taken over as temporary lead as they remade a new Freddy. They did have to use the scraped Mr. Hippo glamrock to fill the fourth spot. Your train of thought was cut off as another loud crash of thunder rang through the building. You huddle against a corner and put the blanket over your head again.
“Why... Why now... Why can't you come when it was after work...” You mutter as you croutch down and felt tears prick your eyes. Another crash finally made you crack, you try to hold back your tears but they started to stream down your face. All you felt was dread, paralyzing fear that. You wanted to scream in fear but that would reveal your fear. You try to be fearless, not let anything bother you. When you first met Sun and Moon, they were rather surprised that you approached them. You had a fascination with how they acted and looked. It was endearing, when you took the time to watch them and interact that even under their rough attitude and words, they were lonely.
Lonely.
Another crash, you were shaking and on the ground. Hands over your ears and a quiet sobbing from your blanket shell. You were too scared to notice the vent opening and the giggling of a certain jester. One with the Moon rather than the sun. The jester made his round, single red eye darting around to find something. Then he hears the sobbing, unfamiliar to his sensors. Crawling over, he finds the shaking blanket of which the sobbing came from. When he lifted the blanket that was when he saw you. Your glow in the dark Monty plush was almost out of glow, leaving you in almost pure darkness.
Moon was all you saw now, his eye lit up the small space. He tilts his head in confusion.
“Why is Little Star hiding? No monsters are here, just Moon” He spoke, unsure to react to the crying. You quickly wipe your face and sniffle, putting up your strong front.
“Cause uhh, I was playing a game..?” You made it sound more like a question than an answer. Of course, it was a lie, so Moon leaned closer.
“Then why cry? Liar, liar I hate liars. Speak truth.” Moon wipes a tear from your cheek. But as you go to answer, the loudest crash of thunder lands. It shook the building again, making the lights flicker and power back off. You yelp and cling onto Moon. You try to get as close as you could, fingers slipping a tad just for you to scramble to get your grip. You breathing escalated and felt the verge of hyperventilation. You weren't expecting anything from Moon, never was the touchy one unlike Sun who couldn't stop having tiny touches and bumps.
But you then felt mechanical arms wrap around you. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you close to him. He gently rocks back and fourth, winding his broken chest music box. He was taking nap time protocol with some modifications. His broken music box plays a soft tune, though in some places it wobbled.
“Breathe. Deep breaths. It will be okay..” Moon whispers. You try to follow his instructions, still freaking out. Your shaking breath and hiccups try to find a rhythm. Moon rests his blue hand and rubs gently up and down your back. It was slow. “Breathe in..” He whispers, his hand gliding up slowly, helping you follow. You take a shuttering breath in, slow like his hand. It stops, in which you held your breath. “Breathe out...” His hand runs back down and you sigh out. It was then looped
Moon would then carry you, you holding onto him with your legs around his thin waist, him with a arm under you and one on your back to keep the rhythm going. He adjusted the blanket to keep it over your head.
He arrives back to the door of the daycare, avoiding the light, he hooked his arm around the wall to find the light switch to turn off the lights. He finds it and flicks it off, hearing the buzzing electricity stop. He peeks in to make sure and then walks in. He takes the long way around and gets inside the daycare. He would have the fly hook attach to his back and he glides over to his and Sun's tower.
“... Moon..? Why are we here..?” You asked, hearing the rumble again and wincing at the noise. Moon would hold you close as he goes back to crawling. He crawls through a small hole off to the side and see that it was a small hiding place. There was boxes, drawings, a mattress with a few pillows. There was also an arcade cabinet in the corner with the screen busted.
“Hide away, storm won't follow here.. Safe here..” He crawls onto the mattress and lays you next to him. The rumbles of the storms were dampened, making it barely audible. With the help of Moon's music box as well, he pets your head.
“... Thank you.” You mumble out, only for Moon respond with a fake click of his tongue. He giggled a bit and curled up around you, his legs are under yours, making you rest yours on top of his. You both cuddle up under the blanket, Moon rubbing your back to keep the deep breath rhythm.
A very loud roar of the sky fills the room, and you both tense up and huddle. A few more tears fall and Moon quickly wipes them away. It was the first time you would ever see Moon have a slight shake in his hand. He was afraid too, of thunder and storms. He was able to repress his fear as his tip top priority was to make sure you were okay first. But he felt as if he needed to keep up this false confidence that you could remain calm.
You mimic his movements, running your hand on his back in a soothing motion.
“Breathe...” You both say at the same time. You get as close as you two could and comforted each other. Moon pecks the top of your head. He felt safe with you, and you felt safe with him. For someone as reclusive as Moon, this was a good bonding experience that neither of you would forget.
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In honour of 4/13x15 I'm posting (a very slightly edited version of) the paper I wrote on the Unofficial Homestuck Collection for one of my classes last term. The language/tone is a bit more academic than what I would usually put up on here, but it's exam season so... 
Don’t Turn Your Back on the Body:
The Resurrection of Homestuck After the Death of Flash
Digital media is, broadly speaking, very difficult to preserve. The rapid pace of technological development means that obsolescence and decay present a consistent threat to the availability of natively digital works. Most computers produced in 2023 no longer have built in CD drives, and I feel fairly confident in asserting that none are being produced with floppy disk readers outside of hobbyist spaces. Issues with the accessibility of physically stored digital media can be mitigated (at least for now) by the use of external readers, but the preservation of fully digital media, born and hosted in its entirety on the Internet, is a different beast entirely.
This is, in part, an issue of pure volume; no one organization could ever hope to archive the vast amounts of stuff that the Internet is constantly producing, let alone organize it into a resource that could be used effectively. Like Borges’ cartographers who created “a Map of the Empire whose size was that of the Empire,” to fully archive the Internet would be to replicate it in its entirety. Thus scope becomes a central question of fully digital archiving. 
The Internet Archive, which also operates the Wayback Machine, answers that question with a resounding and all-encompassing ‘yes’ — their stated goal is to “provide Universal Access to All Knowledge,” but even this comes with caveats. The organization freely permits members of the public to upload files to the archive and save pages on the Wayback Machine, but the work carried out by its official volunteers is more curated, and prioritizes webpages which have been identified as particularly important.
The Internet Archive is very effective within its own space, yes, but it has its limits. When the piece of work you are trying to archive is composed of not just static text and images, but longform animations and complex browser-based games, where do you put it? What do you do when the software necessary to access these elements of the work has been taken offline? And what happens if the people who were supposed to safeguard it fail to do so?
These were the issues that the fans of Homestuck faced in 2020 as the impending deactivation of Flash loomed on the horizon.
But first, before I properly explain what the Unofficial Homestuck Collection really is and why it is so effective as a digital archive, let me tell you about Homestuck. 
Frustrated with the poorly implemented official preservation of the comic, and with a lot of free time on his hands, one fan began the Unofficial Homestuck Collection as a personal project during lockdown, during the “depths of 2020.” As the project changed hands and more fans became involved over the following years, its true scope came into focus: the Collection would preserve not only Homestuck itself, in its entirety and with its Flash-dependent pages intact, but also as much of its contextual material as possible, thus making it a prime example of the effectiveness of fan-driven digital archiving and preservation. Because the people who created the Collection are long standing fans of Homestuck, they know which pieces of peripheral material will provide the context the comic demands. The Collection preserves Homestuck as a text in a way that would be impossible in an analogue format, creating an archive both of the work and of the experience of reading it in a serialized format.
Andrew Hussie began* Homestuck on April 13th of 2009, and published it serially on mspaintadventures.com, his personal website at the time, until its conclusion on April 13th, 2016. Prior to beginning Homestuck, Hussie had been publishing short webcomics and pieces of fiction for several years on his older website, Team Special Olympics, since 2004, which had gained him a small but very loyal following. This following was centered mostly around the forum attached to the TSO website, which hosted the first of Hussie’s ‘MS Paint Adventures,’ Jailbreak, in September of 2006. Jailbreak was a short comic which Hussie produced as a collaborative writing game on these forums, in the style of early text adventures.
Beginning with the prompt, “You wake up locked in a deserted jail cell, completely alone. There is nothing at all in your cell, useful or otherwise,” Hussie then wrote the rest of the comic according to the first comment posted after every page. This, perhaps predictably, resulted in a barely coherent mess of a story.
Following the conclusion of Jailbreak after a short 134 pages, Hussie would produce two more comics prior to beginning Homestuck: the unfinished Bard Quest (June-July 2007) and Problem Sleuth (March 2008-April 2009), which was his longest work so far at the time of its conclusion. Problem Sleuth in particular represented a substantial increase in production quality and general coherency over Jailbreak, as Hussie gained experience using the MSPA forums as tools for collaborative storytelling, reigning in the meandering narrative by allowing himself to be more selective about which forum responses he followed.
Hussie would continue this more controlled style of forum collaboration throughout the first three Acts of Homestuck, which followed a much more focused story than any of his prior work, thanks to his decision to use reader input only in specific parts of the comic. In the introduction to the print edition of the first Act, Hussie described his own role during the production of these first Acts as “dungeon master, a game engine responding to input, and an improv comic all in one.” During the process of writing Act 4, Hussie stopped taking prompts from readers entirely, and would construct the rest of the comic ostensibly as its sole author.
‘Okay,’ you might now be thinking, ‘you’ve given me the context, but what the hell is Homestuck? And what’s it about?’ Well, to wildly oversimplify a very complex piece of media, Homestuck is a webcomic about four young online friends who play a video game that causes the end of their universe and grants them the power to create a new one as they see fit. It is a story about growing up and realizing you’ve been forever changed by your experiences, a story about leaving behind the life you knew and constructing a new one. It is also a story about time travel and paradoxes, genetics and cloning, a large number of aliens, a possibly larger number of puppets (at least one of which is sentient), and an unfortunate amount of clowns. 
This story slowly unfolds over the course of 8126 pages, 817,929 words, and 166 animated panels, 95 of which contained some degree of interactivity and all of which total over four hours in length. Most of the comic’s pages consist of a main image, usually a short looping gif, accompanied by a text description or dialogue, which is almost always written in the format and style of online chat-logs between characters. As mentioned previously, however, these simpler gif-and-description pages are interspersed with longer videos, animated in Flash and soundtracked by one of Hussie’s several collaborators.
The first of these animated panels was uploaded a few weeks into Homestuck’s publication — an animated opening title-card for the comic, scored ominously with sounds of howling wind and windchimes. This first Flash panel was relatively simple, but the next would introduce a bespoke soundtrack (“Harlequin” by Mark Hadley), and the third would include simple interactivity. These soundtracked animations and interactive segments increased in scope and complexity over the course of the comic’s run; the final animated page in the comic, “[S] Collide,” comes in at nearly twenty minutes in length, and some of the larger interactive segments can take upwards of two hours to fully explore. 
While some of the later interactive pages were developed in an engine based on HTML5, most of Homestuck would be built using Adobe Flash, and would depend on the program for basic functionality. This would prove disastrous for the comic’s long term preservation. Flash was very popular, and had become ubiquitous by the early 2010s, but it had security issues which were easy to exploit, its range was fairly limited in terms of what kinds of animations it could produce, and, as its most fatal flaw, it couldn’t run on mobile. Thus with the expanding use of smartphones and tablets, Flash became less and less practical as a tool for web developers, and Adobe began slowly preparing to kill it. On December 31st, 2020, Adobe sent Flash off to the farm where it could frolic and play in the digital sunshine, leaving many online communities facing a crisis. How do you preserve a text when its foundations have crumbled?
With Homestuck using Flash in such an integral way, the issue of preservation was an important one. After the finale, Hussie would post some short post-credits stories to Snapchat from October 2016 to August 2017, as well as a longer epilogue in April 2019, before stepping away from any formal involvement with the comic in 2020. In 2018, Hussie had given the distribution rights for Homestuck to VIZ Media, which primarily handled the English-language publication of several manga series, and had left the rights to the IP and the freedom to produce new work to former collaborators. Thus it was VIZ who took on the task of officially preserving Homestuck against the death of Flash.
To say their efforts were unsatisfactory would, I think, be paying them too great a compliment. The complex and highly detailed Flash animations were replaced with embedded YouTube links to low-quality screen-captures of the originals. The hours-long walkaround games were not translated at all, replaced with ‘choose your own adventure’ style pages of text and links. The official version of Homestuck as it currently exists fails to capture a lot of what made the comic work, because it removes a lot of the gamified elements of the comic that are so integral to its storytelling.
There are many snapshots of the website from before the walkaround games were taken down on the Wayback Machine, but the Flash emulator that archive.org uses is very inconsistent, frequently becoming stuck on looping loading screens or failing to process assets correctly. While the dubious preservation of the long Flash animations is a real issue on its own, the lack of any attempt to replicate the format of these longform games represents the loss of something essential to the comic. Homestuck is, throughout the whole of its story, intertwined with the visual and cultural language of video games. The loss of the complex interactivity of these panels fundamentally changes how the reader is permitted to engage with them and, by extension, with Homestuck’s narrative as a whole. The official version of Homestuck that exists online is no longer complete. 
This incredibly poor preservation was the impetus behind the creation of the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. In its most basic form, the Collection is simply a preserved and restored version of Homestuck, intact and in high quality, accessible through a downloadable client, rather than online — reducing the Collection down to this basic description does it a disservice. The Unofficial Homestuck Collection includes not just Homestuck, but all of Hussie’s prior work: Jailbreak, Bard Quest, and Problem Sleuth are in there, but so are the full contents of his first website, Team Special Olympics, alongside archived versions of his now-deleted accounts on various social media platforms, and copies of threads from the MSPA forums that he would later reference in the main comic. The Collection also includes material that Hussie released alongside Homestuck, like the in-fiction blog of one of the main characters, various short comics written by guest authors, and a full episode of an in-universe childrens’ cartoon.
These peripheral materials are interesting and provide context for some of the more obscure references throughout Homestuck, but many of them were not produced until well into the comic’s run, and assume an audience that is caught up with the most recent update, making them dangerously full of spoilers for the unaware new reader. This issue is solved by the appropriately named ‘new reader mode.’ One of a variety of useful accessibility tools included in the Collection, the new reader mode tracks which page a user has reached, and implements a universal spoiler cloak over the whole program, hiding all materials that were released after their most recent page’s publication. This tool is what transforms the Unofficial Homestuck Collection from an archive of a text, into an archive of an experience.
De Kosnik argues that fan-driven archiving serves as a way for fans to mediate their own temporal experience of a text, describing websites hosting fanworks as mechanisms which “maintain the possibility of individuals joining fandoms… long after a media text has ceased to air.” While De Kosnik’s focus is on archives of fanworks and their function in ongoing fan spaces, I would argue that this framework, which centers the impact of serialization on the dynamics of fan communities, fits extremely well when applied to the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. Homestuck was published serially over the course of seven years, accompanied by blog posts, side comics, music, and other pieces of peripheral media that were released in tandem with the comic itself.
Updates were highly anticipated events, and fan communities were structured around them — one user on Tumblr found an unlisted part of the MSPA forums where Hussie posted new pages before they were published, and this “MSPA Prophet” became a fixture of the fandom for their ability to predict when the next update would come. The event that was an update (or upd8, after the typing style of a popular character) was a central aspect of the experience of reading Homestuck during its publication, and it is one that is very difficult to recover now that the comic exists as a static, completed work. The Unofficial Homestuck Collection, through its new reader mode, functions as a solution to that absence. It does more than safeguard the reader against unwanted spoilers: it temporarily transforms Homestuck back into an incomplete text. 
Homestuck makes use of the assumed preexisting knowledge of the reader, and their “intuitive familiarity” with various types of digital media and culture, especially ones which are inherently participatory. The story’s use of narrative motifs and referential easter-eggs allows Homestuck to function, in Hussie’s own words, as “both a story and a puzzle,” but that “There [are] a range of ways to interface with it[…] Failing to grasp everything shouldn’t preclude basic enjoyment, nor is it a symptom of failure by either the reader or the story.” In the most frequent example of repeated symbology in Homestuck, Hussie peppers the text with references to the number ‘413,’ simplified from April 13th, the day the comic began.
The story follows four friends who are all thirteen years old, many of the songs on the comic’s soundtrack are exactly four minutes and thirteen seconds long, and the timestamps on chat-logs show that characters frequently begin important conversations at precisely 4:13, to name just a few of the number’s appearances. The combination of puzzle and story in Homestuck extends beyond these kinds of motifs, however, and into the way Hussie employs referential humour.
Some of these references are fairly easy to catch; in Act 4, one of the main characters is gifted the Warhammer of Zillyhoo — a brightly coloured weapon which originally appeared in Problem Sleuth. Others, however, are much more obscure. The older brother of another main character runs a business creating bizarre, semi-ironic puppet pornography. Most of the audience read this as an absurdist joke about the internet’s love for offputting porn; the subset of fans who had been following Hussie for several years, or those who looked into Hussie’s early activity on the MSPA forums, however, would find themselves with new understanding of a long-running joke. This element of the experience of reading Homestuck is something that the Unofficial Homestuck Collection not only preserves, but makes readily accessible to the comic’s readers in a way that would not have been possible during the comic’s publication.
On a purely theoretical basis, I would argue that the Unofficial Homestuck Collection is valuable not just in the context of contemporary fan activity, but as a potentially valuable resource for future research. Homestuck is a foundational piece of the current cultural landscape, its influences permeating both digital and analog media in subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) ways.
Undertale, titan of online culture that it is, was created by Toby Fox, who was the composer behind a large amount of the music in Homestuck and was, during the game’s production, living in Andrew Hussie’s basement. Tamsyn Muir, author of the Locked Tomb tetralogy, began her writing career as a prominent figure in the Homestuck fandom on Tumblr and Archive of Our Own. Although the reach of her original work has thoroughly outgrown her fandom roots, Muir includes sly references to Homestuck in several places in her books. Hell, one of the animators working on Bluey, a cartoon aimed at very young children, included references to Homestuck in the backgrounds of episodes they worked on, as easter-eggs for the benefit of parents in the know. All of this is to say that Homestuck has its hooks deep within the culture of the Internet, and its impacts will, I think, be felt for a long time yet.
The Unofficial Homestuck Collection is certainly not immune to digital decay or link rot, but it is resistant to them, since it is hosted on a large and well established website (GitHub), and, once downloaded, can be accessed without an internet connection, and shared freely. For the hypothetical future researcher, the Collection contains resources to mitigate the frustration of trying to hunt down pieces of contextual or peripheral material by packaging them with the text itself — it functions like a sourcebook. 
Bibliography
Bamboshu, and GiovanH. The Unofficial Homestuck Collection. 2020. https://bambosh.dev/unofficial-homestuck-collection/ 
De Kosnik, Abigail. Rogue Archives: Digital Cultural Memory and Media Fandom. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 2016. https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/10248.001.0001.
Glaser, Tim. “Homestuck as a Game: A Webcomic between Playful Participation, Digital Technostalgia, and Irritating Inventory Systems.” In Comics and Videogames. Edited by Andreas Rauscher, Daniel Stein, and Jan-Noel Thon. 96–112. Routledge, 2021. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003035466-8.
Hussie, Andrew. Homestuck. MS Paint Adventures, 2009-2016. https://homestuck.com. 
Nakhaie, FS. “Reproduce and Adapt: Homestuck in Print and Digital (Re)Incarnations.” Convergence, 2022. https://doi.org/10.1177/13548565221141961.
Read MS Paint Adventures. “Statistics.” Last modified April 7, 2018. http://readmspa.org/stats/.
Veale, Kevin. “‘Friendship Isn’t an Emotion Fucknuts’: Manipulating Affective Materiality to Shape the Experience of Homestuck’s Story.” Convergence 25, no. 5-6 (2019): 1027–43. https://doi.org/10.1177/1354856517714954. 
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shini--chan · 24 days
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Hey, could I request yandere Allies punishing dear reader, only to realize afterwards that the Allies themselves misplased the knife ect? And thank you for the amazing writing you do!
The pleasure is mine, dear. And please people, don’t read this during, or after eating - this especially refers to the France part of this post. Rated mature for reasons. 
Trigger warnings: Attempted murder, temporary death, body horror, gore, domestic violence, animal death
Yandere Allies - Oversight
America
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Now that had been unexpected, it occured to Alfred while he was in limbo. Limbo generally was a weird place, and it was best to focus on the internal going ons, than the external happenings. The alien geometries and starburst fractals and the unliving creatures haunting the semi-shadows would only make the aroma of his own death linger longer in his mouth should he inspect them. No need to pass over to the other side yet, either - he wasn't at the end of his life either. 
You were going to be in so much trouble when he got back. All that blood on his desk, it really wouldn't do. Perhaps he should force you to clean it up. Couldn't you have opted for a less bloody option, than slitting his throat? For all that you claimed to be kinder and fairer than him, with your modus operandi you had demonstrated that you were anything but that. And you called him a hypocrite. 
All of this because of your damn attitude problems and a misplaced knife. Hormone imbalance, mayhaps? He should have you take a blood test, just to make sure that a thyroid dysfunction wasn't on the table. 
Slowly the connection to his physical body started to reestablish itself and he felt the chill of death creep in his bones. Thankfully, due to his superpower status, his time in the limbo was relatively short and his body was therefore not too cold when he returned to it. Though, the dead time had been increasing as of late, and that was worrying all on its own. Something he would have to look at another time, though. 
Air entered his lungs and his heart gradually started pumping again. His throat felt like shit, but thankfully was closed. By the feel of it, you had covered it after you had murdered him. Speaking of you, he felt your hands rummaging in his jacket pockets. Rude. 
With some effort, he cracked his eyes open and observed you through his half-closed eyelids. He was on the floor, spread-eagle. Even through the postmortem blurr, he could recognise that you were pale beyond belief and you were shaking. The hands searching his person were frantic and your breathing was erratic. As his sense of smell kicked in, he caught the sharp sting of bile floating from his waste paper basket. 
Double Rude. If you had to kill someone, best not be a pussy about it and not vomit after doing the deed. Blazes, what was wrong with you that you couldn't even murder somebody probably? Maybe he'd have you kill one of those rats that once had vyed for your attention. Good riddance and a lesson all in one, that would be fantastic. 
Now, just to get your attention.
A hand wrapped around one of your ankles, and with his sight becoming clearer, he could see how your eyes went wide. Hands froze, and you turned your head to look down in that slow, comical fashion that was so typical of horror movie protagonists. When you screamed, he yanked your leg out from underneath you, causing the scream to morph into a yelp. 
Now this was funny
Given how distracted Alfred can get, he'll probably overlook where he placed the knife and will only realise what happened when it is too late. The best course of action would be to book it. If you want further time then you'd have to put Alfred even further out of commision, so that more time is spent healing.
When he does get you again, he'll be borderline manic and you can be assured that whatever punishment shall commence will be worse than the one that allowed you to obtain the knife in the first place.
Canada
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"I do hope you just have the knife 'cause you wanna cook something", he remarked. Matthew didn't even look up from where he was plucking his eyebrows, just kept staring intently in the small beautician mirror he had before him. There were more important things than you waving a knife around as if you knew how to use it. You couldn't even chop vegetables properly.
"And what if I don't?", you asked snidely. Slippers scraped against the floorboards as you approached him. Turning the mirror just so, he saw you over his shoulder, with a knife held high. Was your pallor and trembling due to the blood loss, fear, or both?
"You wouldn't dare to kill me. We both know that."
"How can you be so sure? After everything you've done to me, why shouldn't I?", you asked in return. Your voice wasn't even - it cracked and faltered at the end of some words and he had to strain his hearing to make out the others.
The personification turned around slowly, intent on being dramatic. He jad seen Alfred and his Lord Father do so often enough for him to be able to imitate them perfectly. 
There you were standing, holding the never some knife he had used to cut paper fine cuts in your back, a tally of all the spanks he had inflicted on you. You had been so upset, the humiliation and pain forcing tears from your eyes. Not surprising that you were having a tantrum, therefore.
Matthew was taller than you and therefore it was so easy to look down on you. 
"You've never hurt somebody. You wouldn't even dare cut a bunny's throat and then skin it, even if your life depends on it. Everytime somebody talks about organs and blood for more than five minutes, you become green. Do you really think it is believable when you say you want to injure me? Or even go further than that and kill me? 
So stop lying to yourself. You don't have the guts to kill me, 'cause that would mean staining your ledger with red", he explained, and with each other word, took a step closer to you. Eventually, you had to tilt your head back to look him in the eye.
 Trembling like a frightened rabbit, you clutched the blade even tighter to make sure it didn't fall out of your hand. No further words were said, but there was no need, for when he met no resistance when he pried the implement out of your grasp, he knew his words had hit home. 
It would come as no surprise to Canada should you approach him with a knife and malicious intent. Judging from your past reactions to punishments, it would be a given that you would act out more than usual, should you get your hands on a weapon
He would be willing to let it slide, as a way of showing just how inconsequential you arming yourself is to him. It is not like you can gain the upper hand over him or something of the sort, so why should he punish you for that? Besides, he is more angry with himself for making such a mistake. He is supposed to set a standard, to have a certain image in your mind. How can he have that if he is constantly slipping up?
China
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The steel felt cold against your skin. This whole thing was rather silly, even petty. It wasn't like that you didn't have unrestricted access to a whole assortment of knives. Heavens, it would take little convincing for Yao to let you take up fencing, and with historical swords for that. With a little work, you could then turn a blunted long sword into a sharp blade. This was more about the principal than the outcome.
Yao was enjoying a book on the couch, as was typical for a workday evening. There was even a cup of tea … no, herbal infusion on the table beside him and every now and then he would reach over and take a few sips. 
You just had to get your timing correct. 
After a few minutes of waiting, he finally reached over again and that was the moment you chose to strike. Quickly, you lunged in order to cross the space in the blink of an eye and rammed the knife downward.
The ugly screech of metal being embedded in wood filled the room, and the steel glinted crimson with droplets of blood. Yao hadn't even let go of the tea cup, now lifted slightly off the table surface. What he had done was spill some tea. 
There wasn't even a change in expression when he fixed his eyes on you. The cup exchanged hands and your partner lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked the blood away that was seeping out of the shallow cut in his hand.
"That was planned?", he finally inquired, his hand falling down to the table. He pushed himself upright and set the cup back down. 
It was kind of strange, now. You were kneeling at his feet and he was sitting above you, like you were some child begging for leniency from the patriarch of the family. 
"Yes."
"Don't tell me you are still upset about me eating the last of your chocolates."
"That is what you think this is about. No, it is about the dress."
"Really? That is even worse than the chocolate argument."
"Excuse you, but not everybody takes it well when you cut a dress from their body and burn it in the fireplace. It was new!"
Thin eyebrows shot up and he gave you a nasty sneer as he recalled the incident that had occured last weekend. Oh, he had made it so apparent that he hated seeing that piece on you. 
"Why would you insist on clothing your body with that filth gifted to you by that mutt? He wasn't doing it to be a friend, he was doing it because he wanted you in his bed."
Scoffing, you rose to your feet and brushed the dirt of the trousers you were wearing. 
"Don't you think I noticed? He was being rather obvious about it. And before you accuse me of wanting to sleep with him - no, just no. But I wasn't going to say no to that expensive dress.
Since China wouldn't use the knife itself to directly harm you, he'll quickly brush this all off as an overreaction. Due to such an incident occurring rather early in the relationship, it would be easy to make you see your own actions as being unreasonable. Will do his best to make you feel guilty about the whole thing.
Would treat you like a brat afterwards. You better think of something good to make up to him. This treatment would go on for a while until you "prove" to him that you are mature. Yao will use this incident to his advantage in the future - such as making you turn two blind eyes to his red flags so that you can't be accused of overreacting. 
England
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Arthur had his features drawn together in a pinched expression. Muscles in his cheeks jumped as he visibly kept his anger in check. Stretch a hand out to you. 
"Now, now darling. Be good and give me the knife", he said, with that soft, light tone that was more fitting when talking to a child than with you. It made your skin crawl. It made you grip the knife in your hand ever tighter. 
"No."
"Don't draw this out longer than it has to be. Give me the knife, and then you can go curl up on the couch 'till I'm finished tending to the fire.”
He was trying so hard to reason with you, to persuade you into complying with his will. But you know, that if you do, he’ll be no more lenient with you, than if you hadn’t. That is the part of the inherent cruelty of Arthur Kirkland. He is a callous and selfish man, who parades his supposed virtues not out of the pureness of his heart, but because they are fashionable. With you, there are enough times when he forgoes keeping up appearances, because it is not like you can leave him. 
And so the sheathed blades are unsheathed, and if you step out of line, a world of pain awaits you, both in the metaphorical and the literal sense. Arthur has an ideal that he wants you to live up to, and he doesn’t take it well when you break the mould. 
He took a step forward, and you one back. This couldn’t go on. Constantly he goaded you on being weak-willed and therefore needing him to make major decisions in your life - this was the opportunity to make him eat his words. 
All factors weren’t considered when you charged forwards, blade thrusted forward and aimed at the heart. The next few seconds passed in a blur, but afterwards, looking back on it, you knew what happened: 
The fire poker was pointed downwards and used to push the kitchen knife to the side. With the momentum you had put in the move, you weren’t able to take a step back and redeploy. His right arm wound itself around your outstretched one, fastening you to his side. The poker moved swiftly, swinging over the outer side of your elbow and the tip found its home at your jugular. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to be subdued by me. You know how aroused I get when I get to tame you. So tell me, did you want this all along?”, he asked coyly. 
A wild spark danced in his eyes, not akin to one that you had ever seen before. A hunter that only went after the biggest, most dangerous quarry and delighted in the fight itself. The scent of blood and sweat, the screams of the dying - you had feared Arthur before, but this was a different story. There had been to much ease with how simply he turned the tables. Perhaps fears of him being a berserker at heart were well founded. 
You tried to wind out of the lock, and subsequently bent your arm. Thankfully, the poker was no longer a few milimetres from penetrating your neck, but now it was pressing you down by the elbow. The strength behind the move forced you to give in and follow the course that Arthur was directing you to. Being led around like that, you were forced to make an arc around him. The fire poker pressed your elbow towards him, giving you no choice but to flop down on your back. 
Hand and metal implement vanished and you breathed deeply. Arthur was still standing in front of the fireplace, the fire shining behind him. That, and with him standing over you, made him look like some angel about to punish you for your sins. 
“If you have to attack, then never do so half heartedly or when full of rage. I can tell you this, because either way, you never stand a chance of winning against me.”
Arthur would be very irritated in this whole matter. But if you are so insistent, then he’ll gladly play teacher to his new, so willing pupil and give you a lesson that you wouldn’t forget so fast. With all the years of combat experience and practice in swordsmanship under his belt, his victory would be a given. He would even go so far as to say he would be able to defeat you with a cooking spoon. 
Would make a whole game out of it. It has been so long since he has had a decent sparring partner that he might as well train you up to par. That way, he could easily demonstrate his superiority on a regular basis, he would have the perfect conditions to bully you, and you would get to release all those pesky emotions of yours that otherwise make you so disagreeable. Win-win, right?
France
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You glowered at France. The bastard was sitting across from you, arms crossed in front of him and with a disgustingly smug grin on his obnoxious face. It was sickening really, the whole thing was sickening, and he was acting as if justice had been served. 
So far, you had managed to avoid eating the meat part of the dish, and had wasted a lot of time pushing around the chips and carrots before consuming them. The piece of meat was covered with cheese, something that you had decided on so that you wouldn't have to see it, that you wouldn't have to smell it.
Cooking your beloved pet had been bad enough as it was. The scent of blood still lingered in your nose, and even now that last panicked scream echoed in your ears. 
Now it would be time to start eating it; there was nothing else left on your plate.
You wanted to puke. 
Grabbing sideways, you managed to get the knife in your grasp. You didn't even look as to where the offending thing went exactly. Eyes were just focused on his face, and the time went in that general direction. He even had to duck.
The next moments didn't register by you, as you buried your face in your hands and sobbed loudly. All of this just because of one man's jealousy. With a sweeping motion, you sent the plate crashing to the floor, not caring that the results of you resisting your punishment. 
You just wanted this whole nightmare to be over. 
France wouldn't really be the sort to resort to physical violence, except if very specific circumstances apply, like war, colonialism or dealing with treason to the nation. Since that can't really be expected, the knife would be an instrument in your psycological torture. In the case described above, that would take the form of forcing you to kill, process and eat a pet that he is jealous of. 
In his eyes, you should be his lover and not share your love with somebody or something that isn't him or his. If you would not let him bask in your love and attention, then drastic measures shall be needed. And what is more valuable than a life? 
Russia
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With a nauseating squelch, the knife buried itself in the meat of his shoulder. Blood sprayed upwards and some of it immediately seeped out of the wound. A loud grunt broke the silence as your victim was torn from his sleep through the violence. 
You wanted to wrench the blade out while you still had the chance, but it was harder to pull out than you thought. Perhaps the force behind the blow had been enough to lodge the knife in the bone. It apparently wasn't sharp enough to effortlessly slide out of it. 
On top of that, Ivan scooted out of the bed before you could dislodge the blade, fast despite the injury and the sleep weariness. Your captor stood a good few metres away, the twilight of the room making him look like some giant beast. The heavy panting and the knife handle sticking out of his shoulder only added to that image. 
"Are you insane?", he hissed. 
One large hand reached up and pulled. Now the blade came out in a fluid motion, and drops of blood sprayed forward. Due to the very loose nightshirt that he was wearing, you hadn't managed to emesh the fabric with the wound - the metal had only penetrated human tissue. 
Ivan hadn't even let out a single grunt of pain. Even now, when blood was running down his chest, then disappearing down the hemline of the shirt, staining it red, he seemed unfazed.
"You're one to talk", you snapped back. "Did it never occur to you that I might get fed up with the way you treat me and decide to retaliate?" 
He scoffed and stepped closer to you. The knife was tossed to the side, and he glowered. 
"And did it ever occur to you that I don't punish you because I find it fun, but because you need to learn that your actions have consequences? You are not some child, so you should know better than to think I'll simply let you do as you please. Though, from the stunt you've pulled now, I'm actually inclined to reassess my thoughts about your maturity", he stated. 
With each word, he took a step closer until his toes were touching yours. A strange crawling motion could be seen in the area of the wound, like it didn't want to accept the parting. 
"Oh, and weren't you of that same opinion when you put me over your knee and gave me a hiding with the flat side of that blade?", you challenged him. Oh the terror had quickly morphed into humiliation once you had realised what was going on. 
"Perhaps you should stop behaving like a sugar-addled brat then."
The skin and meat knitted itself together, a grotesk acceleration and bastardisation of the natural heal process. Ivan signed in relief and took his attention off of you and inspected the scarless skin, rolling his shoulder and flexing his muscles. 
Your heart dropped and your thoughts slowed to a standstill in shock. You had severely underestimated him.
"And also not turn to being a traitor. You know very well what I do with those."
Ivan would take your actions against him as treason and if there is something that he can't tolerate, it is a traitor. Gone are all the privileges and outings and affection. If you aren't quick to make up to him and express your remorse and see the error of your ways, you're going to have a long road ahead of you. You'll have to work hard to get back into his good graces; even just getting him to treat you with human decency would take a while. 
In his eyes, if you choose such disproportionate retaliation in response to his actions, then you either have an attitude problem or something went wrong in your upbringing. He'll be happy to correct that. It'll range from what you are allowed to eat, to the media you consume, to your bedtime. Imagine a strict headmistress or matron. 
A/N: The move I described is actually a real technique used with one handed sword. It was a cool day learning that one. 
France was hard to write, so I decided to keep it short. 
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I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?
Hello! I know you sent this question to other creators like a month ago. Sorry this took me so long to get to. I’ve been busy and I really wanted to give a detailed answer to this but I could just never make the time until now.
So short answer yes I definitely think Spider is a neglected child.
Long answer:
While I do believe some of his basic physical needs were met like food/water/shelter I don’t believe all his physical needs were met. First is just basic safety and while I don’t think his foster parents the McCosker’s physical beat him they definitely didn’t seem to care about him. From what we see in the comics and in the movie Spider was allowed to leave the base by himself at a very young age, like around 7-8 from the look of him. I personally take huge issue with this. I’d love to know how far away the village is from Hells Gate because maybe if it was super close, like you could see it from base kind of close, then I don’t think it’d be as bad but either way your letting a child, who is already super tiny compared to his huge surroundings loose in a jungle that we are told point blank from Jake’s narration is dangerous! Like it’s one thing to let your kid walk to a friends house to teach them independence but what parent would let their child do that if they could be potentially eaten by a tiger or trampled by a rhino. But that’s exactly what the scientist and the McCoskers are letting Spider do! That is just so negligent to me.
Next is Spider’s hair which I know we talk to death about for a lot of different reasons. So I actually have the exact same hair texture that we see baby Spider having so I can personally attest to it tangling easily when not properly maintained. After looking at 7-8 year old Spider i feel like I can pretty confidently say those aren’t dreads they’re mats. That’s what dry, unwashed, un brushed curly hair looks like after weeks.
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From my research children typically need help with taking care of their hair until around age 12 and so the fact that his hair is matted tells me no body is helping him. And that could lead to issues down the line because matted hair can grow mold which will obviously make you sick. Even when we see Spider at 16 he hasn’t learned how to maintain his dreadlocks properly. They’re uneven, there’s unlocked hair sticking out all over the place. Really to me it looks more like he did his best to do something with his hair after all the childhood neglect. So yeah not putting in the effort to properly take care of a child’s hair when they’re to young to do it themselves is a form of physical neglect in my eyes
Now onto bigger issues.
We see from the comics that Spider’s foster parents just flat out don’t care about him. Other creators have gotten into that so I won’t go on about it. What I will go on about though is that I think it’s a failure of every adult that saw how neglectful and uncaring the McCosker’s where to Spider but did nothing. They did nothing because it was easier for them to do nothing. Sometimes foster placements don’t work out and when that happens you find an alternative until you find something that best fits the child. They didn’t do that! They did what was easiest for the adults and that was to turn a blind eye. I’m guessing after the events of the high ground comics that Spider didn’t even really have a guardian to answer to. He was basically just a ward of the rebels. I really do hope we get to see him interact with characters like Norm and Max post his kidnapping because from what we see in the movie Kiri was the only one worried about him. I think it would have been nice if during the scene where Jake and Norm are talking about Kiri’s seizer Jake asked if Norm had any new information about Spider, so we the audience would see that these adults do care about this kid. We don’t get that though.
And honestly I take huge issue with Jake’s treatment of Spider. I didn’t like it when I first watched the movie and never felt like he earned the “son for a son” line because again we never even saw him care about Spider aside from him asking Neytiri not to kill him which is beyond bare minimum. Reading the comics made me straight up appalled. My jaw hit the ground during the climax of the story when they are being chased by R.D.A, shot at, the forest is burning and Jake told Spider to turn himself in because he was slowing them down! And my poor boy just promised to keep up!
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And I know Jake believes that they won’t hurt Spider because he’s just a kid but 1. Why would you even think that? Seriously what evidence do you have that the R.D.A wouldn’t hurt this kid. They are your enemy! They’re literally shooting at you as you speak! What makes you think they wouldn’t shoot Spider on site! Why would you even take that chance with a child’s life! Even if they do accept his surrender then what? Are you okay with this kid being sent back to Earth? Or being forced to live on the R.d.A’s base with little to no say of what happens to him? And 2. They do hurt him! A year later when Spider gets kidnapped Ardmore was willing to turn Spider into a vegetable to get the information she wanted! The only reason that didn’t happen was because Quaritch stopped him. This is just going to be an all me rant for a second but I could never leave a child behind like Jake did with Spider. I don’t care how tough you think he is he’s 16! And he was left in the enemies hands on an absolutely insane amount of good faith that they wouldn’t stoop low enough to hurt him. They fucking tortured him. And if Jake had at least payed lip service to being worried about Spider I’d be slightly more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and say there was nothing he could do to get Spider out of Bridgehead, he had to protect his others kids. But he doesn’t. He says that Spider’s a tough kid and that’s that.
So to wrap this up Spider was incredibly neglected. Based off of everything I said above it seems to me that the adults provided bare minimum necessities and then just let him run wild which is no way to treat a child especially when their young. We’d be here all day if I started up on the emotional neglect of this boy. I truly hope we get to see Jake treat Spider better in the next movie and that we get to see Spider interact with Norm and Max.
Those are my thoughts. If anyone disagrees I’d be happy to have a respectful conversation about it. I’m always curious to hear other people’s opinions. 💙
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kaaaaaaarf · 2 months
Text
imagine if I never met the broskis
Hogwarts Era. Rated T. 1.4k words. Crack. Toronto Mans Remus.
It's at this exact moment that the door to the bathroom opens, and a much more relaxed looking Remus walks out in an entirely different wardrobe from when he went in—wearing a beige Gucci branded muggle bucket hat and a Toronto Raptors jersey over matching jogging pants.  “Wagwan, fam. Reach!” Remus grabs James’ palm and pulls him in for a one armed hug. When he pulls back, he looks him up and down admiringly, “Hooooly, your quiddich pajamas are mad lit, fam."
Okay, so I wasn't going to post this, but @imsiriuslyreading told me I should (she's really scary guys), so here it is. The concept behind this is what if Roadman Remus was actually Toronto Mans Remus.
Note: I really want to stress that this is just silliness!!! If you want to know what a Toronto Mans is, this is a great explanation, as is this video from UofT. TL;DR think Drake or a Canadian rude boi/roadman. Toronto Mans slang is a multiethnical dialect used by a wide variety of people and is a linguistical result of the Canadian cultural mosaic.
Anyways.
Ratchet Happy Birthday, Remus. 🎂
Fic under the cut.
It's Sirius Black's first night at Hogwarts. So far, it’s been everything he’d hoped for. He was sorted into Gryffindor—first Black in a hundred years to not be sorted into Slytherin. He couldn’t wait to owl his parents in the morning to let them know. Maybe he’d get a howler back! Gosh, that could be fun.   
After the sorting, he met his new roommates. First there's James, who Sirius met at dinner and immediately fell a bit in love with as he watched him stick a third year’s pet frog into the pocket of a red headed girl named Lily. Her face turned the same colour as her hair when she reached in to pull out her wand and felt slimy skin instead. It was so funny, but even he has to concede that it’s a good thing they haven’t learned how to hex anyone yet, or else she would have hexed his bollocks off. His parents would hate James, say he’s a bad influence—he's perfect. Maybe he’ll talk about his new best friend James Potter in his letter in the morning.
Next there was Peter—short and kind, with a wild sense of humour—he’s had Sirius in stitches all evening. He really should be writing the comic strips that come in packs of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, his talents feel wasted here.
Then there was Remus. Remus...well, none of them know what to make of Remus yet. He’s tall and quiet, with a wicked scar that stretches across his nose and under the golden curls that fall over his brow. He didn’t say much of anything at the feast, but the three boys overheard some of the professors saying that Remus and his family had just moved to Wales from Canada, after some sort of animal attack had happened in the Rockies. As soon as they made it to their new dorm, a tense looking Remus had shut himself in the dormitory toilets without a word. 
"Black, mind if I use the toilet next? I drank too much pumpkin juice at the feast."
Sirius looks over at James from where he’s hanging up a Holyhead Harpies poster. "Yeah, no worries, Potter. You’re welcome to it if Remus ever comes out. Do you think he’s okay in there?”
It's at this exact moment that the door to the bathroom opens, and a much more relaxed looking Remus walks out in an entirely different wardrobe from when he went in—wearing a beige Gucci branded muggle bucket hat and a Toronto Raptors jersey over matching jogging pants. 
“Wagwan, fam. Reach!” Remus grabs James’ palm and pulls him in for a one armed hug. When he pulls back, he looks him up and down admiringly, “Hooooly, your quiddich pajamas are mad lit, fam."
The three other boys look at each other, confused tilts to their brows. “Er—sorry, Remus. What do you mean fam?”
“Oh, before I was sayin’ fam, I was sayin’ bro, and before I was sayin’ bro, I was sayin’ dog. And a dog and a bro are still your fam, so I just took away the dog, took away the bro, and now I'm sayin’ fam.”
Remus moves over to his trunk, putting away his robe and clothes from dinner. Sirius leans into James’ space, smiling at Remus in a way that he guesses is a bit mad in the way that it doesn’t quite reach his wide eyes, whispering, "Do you know what he’s on about?"
James shakes his head, "No idea...Pete, any guesses?”
Peter shuffles across the room to join them, "Oh, my great aunt Perpetua is from Canada. I can try to translate. So far I think he’s said he quite likes your pyjamas, James, and he seems to think we’re his family.”
James looks pleased with that, and tries to start over, "So, Remus—what do your parents do for a living?"
"My parents are muggles, fam. They just get money, I dun know, they don't really have jobs, but they got hustle. They finesse down Weston Road, fam. They finessin' the mans out of their pockets."
Sirius and James both look at Peter, who just shrugs with a frantic look in his eyes. Sirius shakes his head and grins at Remus like he understands, "Oh, right mate. Where in Canada did you say you were from again?"
"I didn’t. I'm from the 6ix—Weston Road, fam, you already know! It's plush."
James looks hesitant when he replies, "Oh, er. We didn't already know...that's why we asked. Never heard of the 6ix."
Remus nods at them, a look of sadness suddenly crossing his lovely face, “Turonno, fam. Weston Road’s a little bit rough, I didn't fit in too much at school, fam. I used to come home and chill on the block—Weston lines, you already know. But I would say if you know what's up, stay with yourself, you move how you move, fam.”
“...Sure.”
“—but it's cool, cause now I'm here with my new fam, you know?” Remus jumps up and down suddenly excited, a spark in his eye, “Oh! Fam, fam—let me tell you the story about how I almost died smoking a muggle cigarette."
Peter rears back at that, "You were smoking a muggle cigarette? Are you not eleven like the rest of us?"
“I’m thirteen, fam. Anyways, so here I go outside to smoke a cigarette, and I'm on my porch sittin' down. I was bare tired fam, bare tired. Then a car drives by slowly. He's grillin' me, so I'm grillin' him."
Sirius tugs on James’ pyjamas, “Do you have any idea what's happening?”
“Not a clue, mate.”
Remus doesn’t seem deterred by their whispering, “So I got the cigarette in my mouth right, and I'm grillin' him, and he rolls his window down and he starts shootin' me like bom bom bom.”
“He starts shooting you!?”
“And like, fuck, fam—I was cheezed. After the first shot I fell, but they hit me so I flipped over. I ran into my back yard fam, and I hopped a fence, and when I hopped the fence I realized the bogie was still in my hand, and I was like what the hell is this bogie still doin' in my hand, so I tossed it and I was like fuck and I ran to the store."
Sirius turns to the other boys, “Pete, really going to need you to translate here.”
“I…I don’t know…”
“I thought you said your aunt was from Canada!”
Pete looks frantic, “Yeah, Manitoba! She says eh and oot instead of out. Not...whatever this is.”
Remus still doesn’t seem to notice their crisis. “—and I asked the store man one more time, did I get shot? And he's like yes. So I'm like call the ambulance, fam!"
There’s a long silence then. The three boys look at each other, waiting to see if he's going to finish the story, but he doesn't.
After a minute, a pale looking Pete mutters, "Crikey."
James shifts from foot to foot and offers, "Erm...well, we're glad you're alright, aren't we chaps?"
Sirius nods profusely, "Yeah, yeah, yes. So glad."
"Yeah, for sure, fam. That was some scary shite. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life, it was moshed. That's why I changed my rap name."
After another beat of silence where nothing else is offered, Sirius mumbles, “...Right.”
Remus jumps onto the end of his bed, swinging his legs, “Anyways, you don' wanna hear about that shit, fam. You wanna hear about the time I got gerked by this wolf? I gerked him back though, don' worry."
James looks at his wrist as if he were wearing a muggle watch, “Erm, it’s late and we're a bit tired, aren't we lads?"
Peter and Sirius answer in enthusiastic agreement, “So tired. Exhausted, really.”
“Ah, no worries, fam. You mind if I listen to Drake before bed? My moms got me this sick muggle music player, fam. Helps me sleep.”
Sirius has no idea what a Drake is, but he’s relieved to be getting out of this conversation, “Yeah, yeah, go for it, mate. Have a good night.”
He soon finds out, and as he lays back on his bed, listening to this Drake sing about God’s Plan, he thinks of the dimple on Remus’ cheek whenever he says fam and the way it makes something swoop in his belly.
It’s going to be an interesting year.
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weixuldo · 6 months
Text
Allow me// ch 12
Vader x Reader
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a/n: IM BACK AGAIN lolll HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!!! this one is getting into the territory of the vader comics- so just to update u: the timeline is after empire strikes back, so vader has met luke by now…. i hope u enjoy! and thanks for the support:)
Time to meet the Emperor
warnings: cursing, light t0rture, angst, harm, cannon typical violence
_____________________
The room was thick with palpable tension; Vader cringed with every step he took on the way to the Emperor’ throne. 
The sides of the room were lined with the emperor’s red guards, storm troopers, and other officials; today was definitely the day he was going to be made an example of. 
“Good evening, Master” he bowed to the cloaked figure in front of him. 
“Greetings Apprentice” he responded with that gravely voice Vader hated. 
“What matters have I been called to discuss?” Vader asked, slowly rising. 
Palpatine didn't immediately answer, instead he slowly rose from his throne and began to pace.
“The sith know that fear leads to anger…”
Vader felt his stomach drop, he hated hearing that.
“Anger leads to hate…”
Bright yellow eyes twitched under his helmet’s lenses. 
“And hate leads to strength…but you, my friend.” Papainte finally stopped in front of him 
“…Have simply wallowed in grief. You need to start all over again…”
Vader shifted his weight slightly as he felt a change in the force. 
“...With fear!” Palpatine growled with a disturbing smile as electricity shot from his withered fingertips.
Vader stepped back and ignited the red saber that was always by his side.
“At Least you are not too far gone that you forget to defend yourself” his master mocked. 
“Why? Why do you attack me master?” he asked, worriedly. 
“You were to turn Skywalker to the dark side” another in the room added.
Vader was too engaged with his master, he couldn't quite tell who was speaking. 
“Instead you let him escape. You were summoned to report to your emperor, but instead you left on a personal mission.”
Vader clenched his jaw as he felt the emperor’s electricity overpowering him. 
“You discovered a group of rebels led by a handmaiden on senator Amidala, whom you should have slaughtered, instead you let her escape.”
These men would never understand him. They would never try to either. 
“At best failure, at worst…treason”
The emperor halted in electrocuting his apprentice and spoke with a smile, “and what do we do with traitors?”
“We kill them”. 
Before he could answer Palpatine lifted him off of his feet with a powerful force chokehold.
Vader knew this wasn’t going to end well, even so he struggled against the emperor’s grasp as he clawed at the invisible hold around his throat. 
“But how can this be? You were the chosen one, were you not?” Palpatine asked mockingly as Vader convulsed at the electricity his master shot through his body.
“Destined to bring balance to the force!” Palpatine exclaimed.
He felt every piercing volt of electricity that coursed through his tired veins; he couldn’t hold on much longer.
“You are but a tool, Lord Vader… one that can be discarded once it no longer functions” his words pierced right through Vader's stone cold heart. He was nothing.
“You…you lied.” Vader managed to grit through his teeth.
“T-told me padme- told me I..” he struggled as Palpatine tightened his grip. 
The emperor monologued for a moment, but Vader couldn’t make out exactly what he said. 
“Let me teach you that fear again… maybe that will bring you back to power” he said with a sinister smile. 
Vader screamed as searing pain shot throughout his broken body. Palpatine had just crushed three of his prosthetic limbs as well as striking his chest box so his life support began to short circuit. He fell to the floor with a hard thud and howled in pain. He was at the mercy of his master. 
As he processed what had just happened, he realized his helmet had cracked as well; through the crack his pale, damaged skin and the piercing yellow of his left eye was now visible to any who dare look upon him. 
Palpatine emerged from the smoke and steam coming from the broken suit, “You must find yourself again, old friend. You must relearn the primary power above all else…”
Vader winced as the loose wires from his ports scraped the floor.
“or you must die”
___________________________
The intense heat of the gaseous planet suffocated Vader's senses as he faded in and out of consciousness while a pair of troopers dragged him across the rocky shores by the stumps of his arms. After Palpatine damaged his suit, the life support system was being faulty and the lack of oxygen was affecting the sith, but he was well aware of where he was… Mustafar.
what a cruel destination. 
His shoulders ached from the weight of his body and his legs were being raked over the hot coals of the shore. Soon he was harshly thrown down the slope heading towards the river of lava. A painfully familiar scene. 
He groaned in agony as his sore body rolled down the incline, resting him in a nearly identical spot he had been years before. His chest began to heave and lungs tightened as the traumatizing memories fled back to his broken mind. 
“The last time you were broken…I found you…and I rebuilt you” Palpatine’s sinister voice hackled as Vader suffered. 
The sith attempted to speak but the painfully familiar burn of Mustafar’s molten flames licked at his damaged stumps. He threw his head back against the hard shore and cried out; his left arm desperately grasping at the gravel beneath him.  
“This time…” Palpatine began.
How could one be so cruel?
“You must rebuild yourself” he smiled maniacally, before pulling Vader’s saber from his belt, “without this”.
Vader was left with the haunting view of the people who were supposed to be on his side, once more leaving him to burn on the scorching shores of the gaseous planet. 
how he longed for death.
***
a/n: sorry this one is kinda short, but i kinda love how it turned out :) i have more coming soon and thanks again for sticking around!!
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