#dest stuff

[flying-potato]

Agatha and her idol

[rosecarr67]

So very interesting that these shots of Dean getting attacked by a vampire are constantly used to reference him being the 'subject of male gaze', situate him as the 'female', claim it's a simulation for gay sex or SA, or to showcase his supposedly submissive nature, that Sam dominates him, etc.

But no one (that I've ever seen) goes on to apply those ideas to what happens next- namely, Dean resists the temptation to turn and kills every vampire in that nest single handed while also kinda hallucinating. Then his family finds him like this:

It feels safe to assume that's the case because those theories don't make sense in the big picture and they only look plausible in the short snatches of story line that always get picked out for this.

[lets-jam]

and the marvel bros are right

[portuguesedisaster]

Ok, mas o monstro precisa de amigos slays.

[scarsandmoons]

[destefaniart]

Me: haha I have free time I'll do a lil bit of silly art

Me: opens procreate

*almost finished piece that looks really cool that I forgot about and just left open there*

Me: I DID THAT??????

[aloysiavirgata]

Title: Nine Crimes

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: Explicit

Category: MSR

Timeline: Pilot

Summary: For the anon prompt “Pilot Sex”

Notes: Thanks to @slippinmickeys for the feedback

***

It's the wrong time

She's pulling me through

It's a small crime

And I got no excuse

Damien Rice, 9 Crimes

***

A shabby motel, shabbier than the one that went up in flames. It’s made of concrete and third mortgage paperwork and the abandoned dreams of a better life.

Mulder paid the hundred bucks in quiet cash, the same way he’d bought them new clothes and toiletries at WalMart. Let Dr. Scully think he’d get reimbursed. Let Dr. Scully take her little notes.

***

His new partner looks frayed around the edges, even with her square shoulders and her Stanford pedigree. She’s filled with potential, but incomplete and unsure of her place in the world, even rewriting Einstein. Even with her serious brown-washed hair and her serious oversized suits and her serious Thom McAn heels, she’s green as it gets. He knows about the freckles under her drugstore foundation, that she’s a second daughter. A third child.

He knows about Jack Willis. He knows about Daniel Waterston.

He knows she has a body like Collier’s Godiva.

“An orangutan,” she’d said, prim. Laughed openly at his ideas even though he’s still something of a legend at the Academy.

Mulder has a type and Dana Scully’s nowhere near it, but damn if he doesn’t like her mettle.

***

It’s two by the village clock, storming again, branches scraping against the windows. He’s awake and restless and what was going on in the woods, what was-

A knock at the door. He says “Scully” as he opens it without even checking. Pajama pants and nothing else but he opens it without checking.

She’s in his room all at once, lush as a Frederic Leighton painting even in tacky WalMart sleepwear.

The cheap hollow-paneled door slams behind her and she says “Mulder, I-“

Scully blinks.

“I’m sorry. I knew you were awake, I knew somehow, but do you want to get dressed or-”

“Turnabout is fair play.”

She blushes hot at that, but doesn’t leave.

Mulder slouches against the wall, arms crossed. “So. What’s up, buttercup?”

Scully looks around for a chair, but there’s only the sagging full sized bed. Is there a chair in her room? Should they move there? He decides not to ask. He likes her on his turf.

“Can I sit?”

He gestures at the bed. “Mi dump es tu dump. However, I must remind you, this goes against the Bureau's policy of male and female agents consorting in the same motel room while on assignment.”

Scully looks mortified, then realizes he’s joking. She perches on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across her narrow thighs. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Is it always like this?” Scully asks, looking up at him. “Is this my life now? Stolen corpses and hotel fires?”

Mulder sighs. He crosses the small room to sit next to her. He can feel the heat of her red-gold body against his bare skin. Outside, the rattle of hail.

“That’s the fun part. I mean, it’s not always like any one thing. It’s stolen corpses and hotel fires until it’s missing children and government facilities and…” he trails off, weary.

“Little green men?” Scully asks, with perfect innocence.

Mulder looks at her fully for a moment, then laughs. He’s not unaware of his own mythos, and full marks to little Dr. Scully for clearly not being intimidated by it.

“Yeah,” he says. “That would be an example. Hey, they still saying I caught Monty Props with a ouija board?”

She tilts her head. “I’ve heard ouija board, I’ve heard Bigfoot.”

Mulder can’t help himself. “What else? Since you’re a spy.”

A smirk. “Agent Mulder, are you asking me to gossip?”

“Shamelessly.”

She smiles wide then, eyes crinkled at the corners and brightly blue as St. Elmo’s Fire, the perfect eyes for a sailor’s daughter.

“Well. Reckless of course. Brilliant. Problems with authority. Crazy, despite your assertions otherwise.”

“Boring. What’s the good stuff?”

A little shy now, her eyes dropping. “Obsessive. Paranoid. Self destructive.”

“All fair.”

“Womanizer.” Something in her eyes when she says it, a little heavy.

Mulder’s surprised she owned up to that one. Wants to know which particular women she’s heard about but decides to leave it alone for now. “Intriguing. And am I living up to expectations, broadly speaking?”

“Well, you’re obviously crazy.”

He chuckles. “Obviously. Paranoid?”

“Jury’s still out, but the fire is in your favor.”

“Womanizer?” he asks, a little purr in it, because she’s in a playful mood and because he’d like to hear her squirm out of it.

She just scoffs. “After I showed up in my underwear and then lounged chastely, unseduced? Alas, Mulder. I’m going to have a lot to debunk.”

“I’d hate to-”

Lightning so bright it feels audible, simultaneous thunder that shakes the building. The room goes black.

Scully yelps and he feels static between them; the strike must have been just feet away from the building.

He reaches for her and she’s covered in gooseflesh. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Jesus, I just…that was close.” Bit breathless.

Lightning again and a roar of thunder. Hail.

The dark is so complete it has a weight to it. “You want me to help you back to your room? You're two doors down, right?”

Silence.

“Scully, are you-“

“Can I stay?” she asks, just above a whisper. “Because of the storm, I just…”

Lightning. Thunder.

His hand cupped protectively - unconsciously- at the back of her neck and he says, “Of course.”

A tree just outside is struck, and for a fraction of a heartbeat he sees her white face, her big eyes, and-

Knew about Jack, Daniel, and still never expected her to make the first move. But she swivels under his palm, turns up to kiss him in the dark and he doesn’t protest.

Her mouth is hot and firm, tongue shifting wet sand at high tide. Scully’s thighs straddled over his suddenly, Scully’s tight ass in his hands under that pink polyester. God she’s little, she’s-

They cannot see in the felty dark, but he feels her pull that awful top off and her breasts are against his bare chest as she grinds herself against him.

Hail, wind, rain. Mulder bites at her tongue and she sighs.

He’s rock hard, fumbling at her nipples, her throat, her drawstring. Heat between her thighs, even with them both half-dressed. He breathes in the hot saltwater scent of her cunt.

Mulder wants to fuck her with his mouth, wants to suck her like boardwalk taffy in July until she’s melted and pliant but this isn’t that kind of night.

Lighting, thunder. Storm moving away.

Dr. Scully’s sharp claws at his back, Dr, Scully’s knees bruising his ribs.

The dark, the dark….

He raises his hips from the awful bed, scrapes his pants down his ass, his thighs. Cock painful as a fresh bruise.

She reaches down and it’s okay because they cannot see one another, okay because the hail and the winds swallow the noises they’re making.

His new partner, this is so fucked up even for him, but there isn’t any light so he groans again when she rubs herself against his cock.

“Mulder,” she hisses, nimble fingers wrapped around his shaft. “God.”

The storm a mile off now and his partner rises up so he can pull her bottoms off. Rises, her hard thighs and her impossible waist and her raspberry nipple in his mouth.

She wriggles free from her own pajamas, legs smooth and muscular and tight against him. The heady scent of her makes him twitch. Jack, Daniel.

Ethan.

He knows, too, about Ethan.

Drenched, in the bottomless night of the storm. Hot wet anonymous curls because there is no light and Agent Dr. Scully is gone and it’s just this lithe body against his and he bites her nipples hard again; left then right and she moans. Arches.

Lightning farther now and what the hell, he pushes two fingers between her thighs and into the sweet, melting nexus of her body. Dripping, slick, frictionless, his partner, this is so fucked up, this is -

She cries out, Agent Scully, with her good hard belly against his and her nipple in his mouth and her intoxicating scent soaking into his fingers.

The storm now five miles off.

“Please,” she begs. Her voice is cinnamon and silk.

He pushes his wet fingers into her mouth to silence her and thank god it’s dark still. She sucks at him without evident shame. His balls tighten.

“Possibly a womanizer,” Mulder mumbles into her fragrant neck. Working his other hand into the melting hot depths of her. “But clean. However, I don’t have a condom.”

“Pill,” she mumbles, clit rolling against his knuckle. “Please.”

Thank her forgiving god.

Graceless, groaning, Mulder pushes his cock into her waiting body. He cannot see her face but he can imagine it; those cheekbones and her blown-rose mouth. She is tight and searing and soaked and -

Scully makes a low noise, starts riding him like a dressage pony. Fucks him. Begs to no one particular and fucks him with her kidskin body.

The storm at six miles.

Scully, crying out. She arcs her back and he can only imagine her breasts now, swollen and rosy and sweet and so sensitive and -

“Mulder, Christ. Please…”

Mulder lets go. His sister and Ray and Peggy and Billy forgotten and he thrusts into her, into the black hole at the center of the Milky Way and the unknown and the nothingness. He comes into her with a fierce desperation and Scully sucks his earlobes and his mouth and his throat and she drenches him in her hot slip.

Low, flickering light. A distant rumble.

Nine miles.

They fuck again, urgent and silent, at the gray light of four AM. He comes into her like Uranus, making the world.

She goes to her room after that, never looking back.

They do not speak of it for years.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Not So Secret Admirer - February 8th

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You continue getting anonymous Valentines and you're starting to speculate who is sending them.

Warnings: None, just cute

Word Count: 600

Part 2 of 7

A/n: So sorry it took me so long to update! I came back to this and thought how adorable it was so I will try to update more often.

February 8th

You stepped out of your bathroom, steam flooding out after your shower. You heard a strange noise outside your door so you threw on your robe and checked. You looked around at eye level and saw nothing until you lowered your gaze. Below you sat a small red heart shaped box. You removed the gold bow and were met with an array of elegant chocolates.

"Look's like someone's popular" Tony remarks as he walks past.

"It's not you?"

"What? No offence honey, but why would it be me?"

"No, I didn't think it was you"

"You've lost me"

"I mean, I thought you were giving these out like some sort of joke"

"No, but I wish I'd thought of that. I might mess with Bucky"

"Leave a note saying they're from Sam. But if it's not you, then who is it?"

"Not sure but that's genius"

"Well I try" You said with an innocent smile.

Tony smiled back "You're damn good at it"

"Oh! Cheek to Cheek"

"What?"

"Write "Will you dance with me, Cheek to Cheek" on the note, it's Bucky's favourite song"

"How do you know? He doesn't tell us anything"

"Loki and I stole some of Thor's Asgardian ale and got Steve drunk, he wouldn't shut up about Bucky"

"Oh you have got to tell me about that, and how dare you not invite me!"

"Alright drama queen, you can come next time"

"Yay!" He said in that quiet little voice, full of excitement and just a touch of mischief as he continued "So....Did Steve say, um, anything else?"

"What? Like...say, how he's hopelessly and desperately in love with you? Or how every time he looks at you he can feel the ice melting around his heart? Maybe how he prays that you'll make the first move because he's too scared to admit his feelings to you?"

Tony froze "H-h-he said, all of-of that?" he asked shakily.

"No" You stated blankly as Tony's face dropped "He's too scared"

"So he doesn't feel, like that?"

"He does, I know he does, everyone knows, it's painfully obvious. Except, of course, to you"

"So, um, do you think I should make a move?"

"YES" You practically shrieked.

"No, he doesn't feel like that"

"HE. DOES."

"Well, what should I do?"

"Really? You, Tony Stark, asking me for romantic advice?"

"I'm good at getting strangers into bed, I'm not good at real stuff, romance"

You sighed "Okay, do exactly as I say"

Tony waited for you to speak with baited breath.

"Walk up to him"

"Yeah"

"Tap him on the shoulder"

"Yeah

"Look him dead in the eye"

"Yeah"

You hand him a pen and paper "You might want to write this down"

He takes them and waits, pen to paper.

"And say, I love you"

Tony looks at you shocked "T-that's it? Your expert advice is, I love you?"

"Hey, I never said I was an expert"

Tony scoffed "You're useless, I'd be better off going to Vision"

"You would, if you want a statistical analysis of relationships throughout history"

"It'd probably be more helpful than you" Tony quipped as he walked out the door.

"Go get 'em tiger!"

You turned back to the box of chocolates sitting on your bed. You took one out and placed it in your mouth. You stopped. Your taste buds were flooded with the familiar taste of your favourite filling. You never told anyone which flavour was your favourite, no one but Wanda. Whoever got you the chocolates must have asked Wanda, yeah, they must have.

Tags:

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[paolo-and-rotpr-kid-ask-blog]

★THE RETURN OF THE★ ★PUMPKIN RABBIT, KID'S★ ★Ask BLOG INTRODUCTION★

hey guy! This is a unofficial, Roptr kid ask blog! The Rule for this ask blog! :

No being rude or acting problematic toward anyone in this blog Please, be respectful everyone and be kind to everyone! Any hate will be blocked from this blog! >:(

Don't ask anything that are nsfw please. suggested stuff are fine like blood Or Violence ig? just please add warning to your ask before sending your ask to me tho! and again suggested stuff are fine!!! Just as long as it is NOT SEXUAL. PLEASE!! For god sake!!😭🙏

random Headcanon/ships, are allowed just as long as it isn't weird Or problematic then yes! Go on and share what you have sigma!! :3

you are allowed to say bad word! Just don't say too much. As it can kinda make me uncomfortable. sorry guys. :(

You can send Fanart if you want to! I'm chill with it! and again,Just as long as it isn't nsfw, then yes! Go on! Draw some fanart! (again suggested like violence or blood are fine just add warning before sending the art to me!)

I kindly ask that you please check with me before you vent here. I truly understand the importance of having a safe space to share feelings, but I also have boundaries for my own well-being as well.This means I have the right to decide whether or not I’m comfortable with venting happening on my blog! Hope you understand!

and lastly. Go have fun !! :3

(New rule will be added soon in the future!)

Here are the Roptr Character you can ask! (including my rotpr oc, Eddie and Russell!)

Paco

Ralph

Jay

Dino

Russell (My Rotpr oc!)

Eddie (Also my other Rotpr oc)

★who is the mod of this rotpr blog :3?★

Hey! there! The name's Russell! You can also call me Rusty, Ralph, or Plory—just so you don’t confuse me with my Rotpr OC, Russell the Kerry Blue Terrier. He’s named after my preferred name, just so you know why We both have the same name lol but yeah! but I am the Mod of this Rotpr kiddo, blog! ^^

and also sometimes you see me, post something else rather then rotpr, in this blog!

★here are some stuff to get to know me!★

I go by he/Him/they/them pronounce!,

My art and aesthetic can be random lol!!! But I normally don't show my aesthetic since they always random and colorful af!!!😭🙏🌈

I'm also a therian and a fiction kin by I don't talk much about it

I have thantphobia and Athazagoraphobia.

I'm also a artist and a animator!

I don't really have a DNI list, I just blocked whoever I want btw! just as long as your being safe and respectful in here then I won't blocked you!

That' all! My koi dog! :3🐾🐟

(My introduction art about my self is coming soon! So stay tune!)

Hi!! :3 , everyone! Just a head up! I wanted to let you know there might be times when I’m not as active or able to respond to your asks quickly. Life keeps me busy, and I also struggle with an anxiety disorder, which can make it hard to keep up. :(💧⚡

If I haven’t responded to your ask yet, please don’t spam my inbox with repeated questions. This can feel overwhelming and adds to my anxiety, making it even harder for me to respond. I’m not always online—I have a life outside of this space—but I promise I’m doing my best to get to everyone’s asks as soon as I can ,:3💦

Thank you for your patience and understanding—it truly means so much to me! ~ Love, Plory !! ^^⭐🌈

🇧🇷: Oi!! :3 Olá, pessoal! Só um aviso rápido! Queria dizer que pode haver momentos em que eu não esteja tão ativo(a) ou consiga responder às suas perguntas rapidamente. A vida me mantém ocupado(a), e eu também lido com um transtorno de ansiedade, o que pode tornar difícil acompanhar tudo. :(💧⚡

Se eu ainda não respondi à sua pergunta, por favor, não encham minha caixa de entrada com perguntas repetidas. Isso pode ser muito exaustivo e aumenta minha ansiedade, tornando ainda mais difícil para mim responder. Eu nem sempre estou online—tenho uma vida fora deste espaço—mas prometo que estou fazendo o meu melhor para responder às perguntas de todos o mais rápido que puder. ,:3💦

Obrigad@ pela paciência e compreensão—isso realmente significa muito para mim! ~ Com amor, Plory!! ^^⭐🌈

★ALSO THE BLOG! AND THE INTRODUCTION IS STILL UNDER CONSTRUCTION! SO NEW THING MAY BE ADDED IN THE FUTURE SOON!★

HERE MY STRAW PAGE!!! ^^

Tagging : @juju187hin @ask-frappythebluedog @w1tchsheep @artytwistyxd @fleeglefazbeagle @gert-the-disaster @hiruhiraoka @edandmollydeservebetter @faneko0 @faineantf @francistimefranche

[grn8jumper]

———————————

my friend Dest’s saw collection came out today!!! you should totally check it out it’s so freaking cool

he put so much time and effort into this and it came out AMAZING pls pls pls go support his brand you wont regret!

also he made that bear trap completely by himself using foam and stuff ITS INSANE

[babyboywinchester]

Helloo,

I am kinda new to the supernatural fandom (i saw the show but don't interacted much with the fandom) - and i just have a few questions if you don't mind. So, were do i even start? I knew that shipping is always a part of any fandom. And i don't mind this.. i mean this is what fanfiction is for. But i am know kinda disturbed from the whole D/C... some of these people a extremly obsessive with this ship. In a really unhealthy and toxic way. Why do so many people ship this?? Like were is the chemistry, hell were are even all this moments they are talking about?! The reason why i am writing this whole long ass question (which turned out to be a rant - i'm so sorry for this) is.. i saw this video on youtube (some dest*el stuff) from the "official" spn channel and do you know if this is is even a real channel.. it has soo less follower and since this *ship* is not even close to be canon, why post then such a video? Like i said, i am new maybe i am missing some parts... but some of the few stuff i saw was that it was always clear that this ship is nowhere near canon.. so first the podcast of these extras and now the yt video on the channel... it kinda makes me sad that soo many people are always are talking about this weird ship.. and not about the beautiful relationship between the brothers.

Puhh this message really did get out of control... gosh i am so really sooo sorry!! Hope you have a nice day😊

Apologize not, dear anon! I’m more than happy to explain from my point of view.

First, know that you are not the only one, and in fact, Destiel (the diehard Hellers that is) is in the minority as far as fandom goes. They’re loud and they’re in echo chambers that occasionally escape containment and they rightly so get ridiculed and taken to task for… but I digress. They are small. They’ve made the whole show, in their minds, about this one Totally Canon Ship™️ that For Real Happened On God when… neither of those things are true.

We could try and get to the why of it, but I’m not too sure there is one definitive answer to that. They’re cry babies who think, essentially, TV shows have to cater to them because they said so.

Supernatural was never about and never will be about a “gay” angel and a “bi” hunter who are Totally Forreal Husbands Look At The (non existent) Subtext™️. The channel I’m sure was being run by a runaway heller. Go ahead and check the view counts on those videos by the way… minimal. That’s AFTER Destihellers tried to use their “influence” to get those numbers up. It’s hilarious how often they are absolutely destroyed over their delusions. It never gets better for them and never will. No matter how loud, how much they tout the “we have 1 millions fics on AO3!”, or how insistent they get with their gay lighting theories, Dean dances with a lamp which is a stand in for Casshole, etc…. They’re grasping at straws and have nothing to show for it. They are but to be pitied dear anon.

Am I any better being as I ship wincest? Yes, because wincest will never be canon, and I’m okay with that, but it’s still more canon than Destiel being as it was a American gothic horror show and one of the main themes in that genre is… fucked up family dynamics/incest.

They don’t call it LOSEcest.

Thank you for your ask and like I said do not fret and try not to feed those little beasties.

[strangelittlestories]

“Where are we going?” asked Khalida, attempting to adjust her denim jacket to hide the worst of the scorch marks.

Cassandra took a moment to answer. She tucked her domino mask into the pocket of her combats, then cast her eyes around and upwards. Satisfied they were not being observed, the ducked out of the alley and merged with the flow of pedestrians.

“To see someone I used to know.” the hero replied, quietly. “An old friend?” Khalida’s voice rang out with enthusiasm. She lowered her voice in response to Cassandra’s pointed look. “Dang, I love the whole ‘visiting an old friend for help’ thing. Always a juicy dynamic.”

“Not exactly a friend.” she looked up and down the street, eyes flicking up and down. “Not anymore.”

“An old enemy? That’s even juicier? Are they, y’know, your very *best* enemy?”

Cassandra sighed.

“They’re an old … something.”

“Ah, a classic ‘it’s complicated’ type situation. Very nice. Love a tangled backstory.”

“It’s not a backstory, kid. It’s my life.”

“I mean, yeah. Sure. But also: you’re a hero! So, to *you* it’s your life. But to us fans, it’s kinda also backstory.”

Cassandra could practically hear the girl adding tags to her mental blog post. There were exclamation points.

“You realise you have powers now, right? You gonna start thinking of your own life as backstory?”

“Are you kidding me, I’ve already started my entry on HeroWiki!” she produced her burner phone and triumphantly showed a draft on the screen. “Wait, is the person we’re seeing on Hiki?”

“I hate that portmanteau. Sounds too much like ‘hickey’” Cassandra finally spotted what she was looking for and started steering the two of them towards a particular sewer grate.  “But … yes. She’ll be on there. Search for Troubleshooter.”

“Oh dip.” Khalida looked up with open mouth. “She’s on the anti-hero section.”

“She wasn’t always.” Cassandra reached into her seemingly endless pockets and handed Khalida a high vis vest. “Now put this on, so no-one will ask questions about us dropping into the sewers…”

---

Troubleshooter’s sewer lair was surprisingly dry and homey. It smelled of lemon and baking soda, making Khalida think someone had been making cakes (though there was no sign of sweet treats among the utilitarian fittings).

“You bringing trouble to my door again, Cass?” Troubleshooter was squaring up to Cassandra; both were bristling with tension.

“Well, trouble is your business, Shoots.”

“It used to be.” Troubleshooter’s hand was on the sidearm holstered beneath her armpit. “But folks got … snippy about the solutions I offered.”

“Thought you’d be thrilled for me to admit I couldn’t handle this on my own.” Careless of the implied threat, Cassandra leaned in to speak softly in Troubleshooter’s ear. “I need you.”

Troubleshooter looked up at Cassandra and bit her lip. Slowly, fingers unwrapped themselves from the weapon.

“Why didn’t they like your solutions?” Two sets of eyes snapped over to look at Khalida; they’d nearly forgotten she was there. “You’re a prognosticator, right? Like Cassandra. You should be, like, the *most* helpful kinda hero.”

“I’m not a prophet. Not like this one.” Troubleshooter tutted. “It’s more … extremely limited universal knowledge osmosis.”

“Huh?”

“I see a problem. I know the most efficient way to solve it. Step-by-step. Like God’s instruction manual.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Not when the problem people bring you is a *person*. They get pretty antsy when you tell them the best solution is a bullet.”

“Oh.” Khalida gulped and looked nervously between the two of them. “Um, Cassandra, did you bring me here to…”

“No, kid.” Cassandra ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly she looked tired. “Here’s the situation, Shoots: I had a prophecy. End of days type stuff. Told me to be in a place to find a person. The place was full of bad-tempered hired muscle. The person was Khalida here. The visions since then are confused, but they all call her the same thing: ‘Reality Ender’. So here’s the problem I put before you: how do we help her *not* destroy reality?”

“You know you might not like the answer.”

“But we’ve still gotta ask.”

“Fine.”

Troubleshooter’s eyes went blurry. It was as if they were vibrating, flickering suddenly through a thousand upon a thousand realities, like searching for a station on an old radio. Just as suddenly as it started, her gaze blinked back into the present.

“Huh.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good result.”

“No. But it’s not a bad one, either.”

“Explain.”

“Let me put it this way: you hear ‘Reality Ender’ and your mind goes to ‘end of *existence*’. Makes sense - matches your prophecy. But that’s not her *power*.”

“So what is it?”

“Oh, it’s still ‘Reality Ender’. But … not ‘reality’ as in ‘existence’. It’s ‘reality’ as in ‘real versus fiction’. As in, ‘possible versus impossible’.”

“...I don’t get it?” Khalida’s voice was small and lost.

“I think the best way to put your deal would be … you’re a Potential Manipulator.”

“Um…that sounds a little problematic. Like, very cancel-able. Could we go with, I dunno, Possibility Manipulator?”

“Honey, trust me, being cancelled is the least of your worries…”

---

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[xxpujinxx]

Cartinha aberta 2023

Mais um ano chegando ao fim, tantas coisas boas e ruins aconteceram nesses 12 meses de 2023. Hoje, ao invés de trazer uma retrospectiva de capa, trago uma pequena carta aberta para falar de alguns capistas que admiro muito. Não editei praticamente nada o ano todo, ainda mais alguma coisa bonita para mostrar, então vamos falar desses baibes lindos que só editam hino!

‣ @taeluminado começo com você, porque alés de bests, você é o meu docinho! Sou apaixonada por todos os trabalhos que você faz, fico besta com a facilidade que você entrega um design incrível! Espero ver mais e mais em 2024! ����❤ ARRASA E ARRASA, PAPITO!

@cham-stuff simplesmente uma das minhas capistas favoritas deste site! Simplesmente a patroa! Admiro demais o seu trabalho, fico horas babando pelas suas capas! Sinto vontade de pegar e imprimir todas para colar na parede 😭.

@moonwos outra deusa aqui das capas, como pode alguém editar tão bem assim?! Sério, ME ENSINA A EDITAR PERFEITO QUE NEM VOCÊ! Sou doida pelos seus edits 🥴❤ em 2024, pretendo te encher de pedidos em!

@ablha você não é capista, mas assim como o Will, é o meu amorzinho! Amo todos os icons que você faz! 😳❤

@chettaphon simplesmente um dos maiores ícones! Descobri há pouco tempo o seu portfólio, mas assim que bati os olhos nas suas capas... foi amor a primeira vista! Entregando tudo no conceito dark, texturizado e clean!

@loeynely MUITA CRIATIVIDADE E TALENTO PARA UMA PESSOA SÓ, DIVIDE COMIGO 😭❤ cada detalhe das suas capas, cada tracinho, tudo perfeito! Quero ser igual a você quando crescer.

@chansao a pessoa que mais me coloca para cima! Sério, fico toda vermelha com cada elogio seu! Assim como você fala comigo, eu reflito a você. Hoje, alguém já te falou que suas capas são perfeitas? Não? Pois lá vai: SUAS CAPAS SÃO PERFEITAS! Espero ver mais delas em 2024!

@temporary-fixe encontrei seu portfólio há pouco tempo também, mas já de cara percebi que só encontraria hino! Simplesmente uma capista extremamente talentosa e que eu sonho em ter uma capinha! 😀 espero ver mais delas na minha timeline em 2024!

@donaculkin O QUE FALAR DA PATROA? ARRASA E ARRASA ENTREGANDO TUDO! Conceito, detalhes, tudo! Cada capinha sua na minha timeline é um gritinho meu saindo! 😳❤

Gostaria de ter falado mais, mas sou péssima com palavras! Espero ver mais dessas pessoas e outras mais na minha timeline ano que vem! Como falei, só tem gente talentosa neste site! Beijos da Heloisa e até mais!

Inspiração: @cham-stuff.

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - EPILOGUE

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

--------------------------------

BOOOOM!

“First C4 activated! Release the teargas, now!”

“Got it, Uce. Put on your gas mask, man. You and Rollins in yet?”

“Affirmative. Ambrose and I are in."

"Hey, I see ‘em.”

“Both of ‘em?”

“Yeah. Both packages located, we got ‘em. Shit, they’re hurt.”

“Hold on, Ambrose, we’ll patch them up later. Twins, get us outta here, asap!”

“There’s a loose vent on your nine that leads right outside. You got ninety seconds to evacuate, then the rest of the C4s blow.”

“We found it. We’re getting outta here. Man, we owe you guys. Both of you.”

“Naw, Uce. We’ll collect soon, don’t worry about it.”

-----------------------------

Sixty three days later…

Montego Bay, Jamaica 

"So this is it?"

Dean nodded, handing the object he was holding over to his dark-haired friend. "Yep."

Seth held it up, scrutinizing it carefully. "You think she'll like it?" he asked, looking wearily at Dean and hoping he didn't sound as panicked as he felt.

"Course she will, look how pretty it is," Dean said, "Chicks dig stuff like this, anyway."

"Ah shit, I should have just brought Roman along with us," Seth whined.

"So what, my opinions mean shit to you?" the ex-Authority agent challenged, offended.

"It's not that, man, it's just...he seems to be really good with this stuff. The romance and all. He’s had a lot of experience with Jasmine."

"Well, he's probably with her right now...would you like to call him and fuck everything up in the process?" Dean flattened his eyes at Seth, who sighed heavily. "Now's really not the time to bitch at me, Ambrose. I’m just a little nervous for him, that’s all."

Dean started to say more, but decided to drop it when he noticed the apprehension on his friend's face. He reached up and patted his shoulder reassuringly. "It's gonna be fine, Seth. Trust me. Trust both of them. After all the shit they have been through together, I don't see any other outcome."

Seth looked at his friend with a smile. It seemed like only yesterday that he and Dean came to Roman and Jasmine's aid at Lagoon. The two men never went to Jamaica, at least not immediately. When they discovered the Authority and F.L.O.R.A’s plans to ambush the couple, they sought out Jimmy and Jey and begged for their help, to help them interject themselves under the guise that they were working under The Authority's orders. With the twins pulling the strings, Dean was able to rig the entire shopping mall with explosives, detonating them all and bringing the building down on all the agents. Seth rescued a gravely injured Roman and Jasmine through a vent that was initially to be used to dispatch their corpses, and got them out of there before the building was razed to the ground. Together, the four smuggled their way out of the States and took a one-way trip to the Caribbean. 

As beautiful and serene as Montego Bay seemed, adjusting to life as civilians was a tougher process than all four of them thought. The rules were different, an uncomfortable contrast from what they were used to. The need to hunt, to kill, still lingered. The threat of the remnants of what was once their lives still hung over their heads, and at times paranoia set in. To stay sane, the four of them often had dinner together at Roman and Jasmine's overwater bungalow, which was a short distance from the little town they resided in, isolated and surrounded by bushes and beaches. For the first few weeks, they took turns staying awake, keeping watch over the house while the others slept. As much as they knew that most of F.L.O.R.A. and The Authority had been wiped out, none of them was naive enough to be assured they were gone for good. Perhaps the paranoia was destined to be ingrained in them, but they were better safe than sorry. 

The twins had unfrozen the accounts of Roman and Jasmine, and with Seth and Dean’s own contributions, all four were set for life as multimillionaires. However, they chose to lay low as ordinary middle class foreigners. The three men set up an auto shop and began making a living as mechanics, while Jasmine became a bartender at a popular local bar. It was a smart strategy, allowing her to sniff out anyone suspicious as well as collect information on the goings-on around town. Of course, it wasn’t all about work. The dating scene was kind to Dean and Seth in varying degrees. Dean was, as expected, sowing his wild oats, while Seth had fallen for a Jamaican girl named Portia who worked at the bar with Jasmine. She, Roman and Dean approved of her – after a quick background check of course, and Roman told Seth he hoped he would find the kind of happiness he was enjoying with Jasmine.

Checking his watch, Dean looked over at Seth. “Where the fuck is that big goof anyway? He’s supposed to come over and pick it up. He knows I got a date in like an hour. What’s taking him so long?”

------------------------

Roman expelled another primal grunt as he uncrossed Jasmine’s ankles and shoved her knees into the mattress. As he thrust deeper inside her impossibly wet, tender pussy, she cried out and squirmed underneath his big body.

“Fuck! Wait, wait baby, I just came again,” she whined with a push of his hips, forcing him to halt his movements so she could catch her breath. Chuckling softly at her declaration, he leaned down to kiss her cheek, feeling her sexy little body shiver against him. His lips then touched hers in sweet, gentle kisses, making her moan for him. His tongue played with hers, making her taste his breakfast from earlier, which just so happened to be her.

“I ain't done. C’mon,” he drawled, giving her another kiss before sitting back up and moving again, albeit less roughly this time. He hissed with delight when he sank into her, thrusting in and out, meeting nothing but warm, tight wetness. “Yeah, that’s it mama, take it, grip my dick…” he groaned softly, closely watching her pretty face.

“Unnnhhh, shit,” Jasmine moaned, looking down at his flesh weapon, glistening with her nectar, digging her out, with her legs now wide open and pinned down by his huge hands. “Damn, your dick is so big…”

“I know, baby, you take it so well. Am I gettin’ your sweet spot? Huh?” he asked, his voice so thick and sultry that she moaned again.

“You are, Daddy, you’re all the way in. So good.” She’d never felt this full before and it felt incredible. His dick had her pussy slick and stuffed, and even then she gripped him tighter with each luscious stroke.

“Mm-hmm, I can feel it, baby. Let me pound this pussy till you squirt all over me.” 

“Oooooh,” she answered weakly, her eyes rolling back when he began to fuck her harder. She was on the verge of passing out from the incredible pleasure. Her palms slid down his broad back to squeeze and grip his ass cheeks, her toes curling in the air, her throaty moans lost among the sounds of slapping skin and the outdoors morning breeze as he fucked her into the bed with his deep, ruthless stroking. 

Roman cupped her bouncing breasts and massaged them in his large competent hands, the scrape of his fingertips over her nipples prompting her walls to pull greedily on his dick. “Unnhh, you got me drunk off this pussy, baby, so tight and wet for Daddy,” he rasped, biting his lip when she fluttered around him again. Getting praised turned her on; he knew that all too well and did so as often as he could because it made her feel good and his girl deserved it.

“Fuck, right there Daddy, right there,” her mouth fell open and her eyes fluttered shut as he flexed his hips, sliding his heavy dick right up in her stomach. He was taking his time, making her feel every inch of him all up in her guts, the base of his cock grinding against her clit. Her fingers slipped down between her open legs to rub the swollen bud in quick, frantic circles. “Ooh, shiiiit, I’m gonna come again…”

"Look at me. Let me see them pretty eyes when you come," he groaned, and immediately her eyes flew back open; she could see the whites of his own, his pupils onyx black and dilated, reflecting the passion she was feeling. She pulled him down and wrapped her arms around him. The sweat slid between their bodies as he pounded her out, his hefty girth swelling inside her, expanding her walls, his growls and moans ringing in her ears as he also neared his end, causing the heat in her belly to amplify to seismic proportions. 

“Oh fuck, oh, ohhhh,” And then she was struck dumb as this orgasm crashed over her with brute force, every part of her burning feverishly from the explosion of her body, flooding Roman's dick with her juices just like he wanted.

Tucking his face in her neck, another needy groan escaped from Roman’s lips as he pumped away on top of her, his breathing getting heavier and heavier. Then, with one more deep thrust, the big man came apart with a harsh moan, his entire body going rigid as he pulsed inside her. He tried to rock his hips again, but then froze because he was coming so hard, his dick twitching and spurting cum deep inside her walls. Jasmine lowered her long legs and wrapped them around his waist to keep him close, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his face to hers for a kiss. She loved how he moaned into her mouth, sharing his pleasure with her as his orgasm continued to ravage his two-sixty-plus-pound frame. Every dizzying second was amazing, and they savored the moment of bliss together, feeling serene and replete.

“Fuck, I can’t move,” Roman half-groaned, half-chuckled, drawing a giggle from Jasmine as she wiped the sweat off his brow. 

“Then don’t,” she told him, recapturing his mouth for more deliciously noisy tongue-kissing. “Mmm, baby, what a start to my morning...”

Her little purr, along with her delectable tongue lapping his mouth and her hands kneading the firm flesh of his backside, caused his dick to stir inside her again, tempting him with yet another round. He placed one more sensual kiss to her lips before managing to slide out of her and collapse onto his back with a satisfied moan. As Jasmine pushed herself upright and tugged her neon-green bikini top back over her breasts, his eyes narrowed, as though seeing her chest for the first time. “Is it me or are your titties bigger?” he asked.

Jasmine giggled and pushed them together for his hungry gaze. “It’s possible. I’m getting thicker everywhere. Must be all the good Island food.” 

“I ain’t mad at it, baby. If anything, you look hotter every day,” he complimented, reaching out to squeeze her ass when she rolled over to search for something on her side of the bed. Checking the time on his phone, he cursed and flew out of the bed in all his naked glory. Luckily there was no one in sight of the expanse of clear blue sea their bedroom overlooked. “Fuck! Ambrose is gonna kill me! I’m meant to have met him ten minutes ago!” He grabbed his shorts from off the floor and hopped clumsily into them, commando and all. 

“When will you be back?” Jasmine asked, putting on her sunglasses.

“Soon as I can,” he said, throwing on his white t-shirt. “I shouldn’t be long. We’re going out later this evening, by the way, just me and you.”

“You don’t wanna stay in tonight?” she pouted.

“We can, if that’s what you want. But then you’ll miss out on the special surprise I got for you.” Sitting down next to her, he reached behind her to gently massage the back of her neck as he peered at her. “You okay, though?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jasmine smiled sweetly at her boyfriend. “Don't be gone too long. I want more sex.”

"Damn, my girl's been horny as hell for me lately. Not that I'm complaining."

Her nonchalant shrug couldn't hide her blush. "Yeah, well, you're smoking hot and I like the way you fuck me, so..." she said simply.

Roman chuckled at that. She really knew how to stroke a guy's ego...among other things. "A'ight, then. Anything for you, my baby girl. I’ll be back asap. Love you.” 

“Love you too,” she replied. With a tender kiss to her lips, he stood up and slipped through the curtained entrance, leaving her by herself. Once she was sure the coast was clear, Jasmine took a deep, nervous breath, staring out into the horizon, her mind traveling in several different directions.

-------------------

Hours later

The beauty of the sunset was unmissable, and Jasmine and Roman were glad to be out to see it. After a sumptuous early dinner in one of their favorite restaurants, the couple strolled along the beach, arms comfortably around the other, lost in their thoughts. They had become more reflective ever since their narrow brush with death back in the States. A lot had changed, and it led to a new, albeit uncertain future with scars of their recent past. Fragments of bullets remained in Roman's left leg, leaving him with a permanent limp, while Jasmine sustained third-degree burns on her body that left her physically scarred. Despite the physical – and mental – injuries they endured, the couple never forgot that they owed Seth, Dean, Jimmy and Jey their lives.

Their relationship continued to grow. They often took long walks on the beach situated close to their oceanfront residence. They'd had dates and parties there, and it was also their place of mourning after learning of Rose and Leona's deaths. The couple grieved – each in private, and together, sharing their sorrow over the loss of their good friends.

This evening though, there would be no mourning. At least Roman hoped not. As the moment of truth approached, his insides began to twist in knots. He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous about anything. Stopping, he turned to look at his girlfriend, hoping to draw confidence from her, and what he saw blew him away, like always.

Perfect. That was the only word he could think of to describe her. Absolute perfection. Every curve, every inch of her was exquisite. From her hair, currently styled in long, beautiful goddess locs, to her eyes, the color of hot chocolate on a cold Christmas morning. Her hands, when they touched him, made him surrender without a fight. She was his weakness. She was his strength. She was his love.

Locking eyes with her, he returned her smile when he pulled her gently to him. Cradling her face with both hands, he kissed her deeply, tenderly, feeling her arms curl around his waist as she kissed him back. 

"I love you so much," he whispered, brushing his knuckles over her cheek, his head tilting for another taste of her sweet lips.

"I love you more," Jasmine replied, her voice as soft as his. The way he looked at her was enough to tell her he loved her; with such affection and awe and appreciation. Roman was the only man for her, the only man who could set her heart racing with just one look. His strength, his spontaneity, his passion for life, passion for her, melted her heart. For the first time in her life, Jasmine was in love, truly in love.

He took both her hands in his and held them to his chest. Her eyes widened at how fast his heart was beating. “Baby, are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

Roman merely smiled softly. "Jasmine...it's been just over a year since we first met, and during that time I've searched for ways to express just how much I love you." As he spoke, he felt his nerves begin to fade away. Again, her eyes. One look into them and everything became right with the world. "But I realized that words will never be enough," he went on. "I know it hasn't been the longest relationship, or the most conventional one for that matter, but I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in Miami. To say that night was the greatest night of my life will not be an exaggeration."

He watched the tears pool in those beautiful eyes and he took a deep breath. "I love you. More than my own life, my own breath. I can't imagine a life without you and I don't even want to try. We've been through so much together…hell, we almost fuckin’ died together. But I believe there’s a reason we’re still alive, and it’s for this very moment, and I couldn't let it pass by without letting you know I want to spend the rest of my natural life with you…as your husband."

Jasmine stood, dumbfounded, as he smiled a tiny, nervous smile and took a step back. Her eyes grew wide as he slowly descended to one knee. She brought her hands up to cover her shocked gasp, her heart pounding uncomfortably as he reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box.

Oh god. Oh my god. Tell him! Tell him now! "Wait!" she blurted out.

Roman stilled, staring up at her with an uneasy expression. "Is something wrong?"

The answer to that question depended entirely on him. "I...I need to show you something." Letting her gaze linger on him for a second longer, she brought a long, thin object out of her little shoulder bag and gave it to him with a trembling hand. Roman took it, and holding it up curiously, his face paled.

It was a small, long white stick, and printed at the end of the stick were eight letters.

She swallowed hard as she watched the comprehension dawn on his handsome face. "I took three tests yesterday, they were all positive," she rambled. "I was looking for the right time to tell you..." When she found out, she was terrified. She didn't know what he would say, how he would react, so she had kept it from him and chose to confide in Portia instead. She had encouraged Jasmine to tell him tonight. But now, as she gauged the look on his face, she wished she never did. Her heart sank at his unreadable expression. He hadn't said a word, instead just kept staring at the pregnancy test. It felt like a hot knife through her chest and for a moment she couldn't breathe. 

"I...I’m keeping the baby," she barreled on with a shaky voice, fighting back tears. She tore her gaze away from him. She couldn't bear to see the rejection on his face, or hear him disown the one thing she thought they'd created out of love. "You don't have to be involved in its life if you don't want to-"

"What?!" Roman exclaimed, surprised. "Why the fuck would you think I don't want anything to do with my own child?"

There was a pain in his eyes Jasmine had never seen before, and in that moment she felt stupid for thinking the way she did. "I...I don't know...I didn't know how you would feel about being a father..." She tried to defend herself and ended up succumbing to her tears. "I remembered everything you told me in Vermont, how hesitant you were about having children. And then this happens and I thought...I just thought you would say you weren't ready, and then you would leave me-"

“Leave you? Over this? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“I don’t know what to think, Roman! I’m scared, okay?”

“Well, think about this.” Tugging her back to him, he silenced her with a kiss so tender, and yet so passionate, that it sent shivers down her spine and made her forget her name. She was certain she was still standing only because he was holding her. When he pulled back, her eyes were still closed, but the tears streamed down her beautiful face, strangely enough, making her look even more beautiful if that was possible. Roman gently pressed his forehead to hers. "Baby, look at me."

When she did, his heart skipped at the sadness that looked back at him. She had him terribly mistaken and he was going to clear that up right now. "My baby girl, you don't realize how much deeper in love with you I've just fallen," he told her softly, sincerely.

At his words, Jasmine choked back a sob, more tears trickling down her cheeks. Roman didn't hesitate to wipe each one away. "I will never leave you for anything," he promised. "You never need to worry about that. I belong to you. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. That is my child growing inside you, our child. And I'm going to be there for him or her. Every step, every moment, I'll be here by your side. There's nothing else I'd rather do with my future than watch our babies grow old together."

The words were so heartfelt, so sincere. How could she ever have doubted this incredible man?

Reaching back into his pocket, Roman retrieved the small velvet box and opened it up. Jasmine's breath caught at the piece of jewelry that shone at her. It was the most exquisite thing she'd ever seen.

"Jasmine...my love, my sweetheart, the best partner I’ve ever had," Roman said softly, his heart in his brown gaze, "This news you just shared with me has made me the happiest man on earth, and there's only one thing that would make me even happier." Smiling at her, he held up the box to her. "Marry me."

A knowing smile spread across her features. "Mr. Reigns...Are you asking me to be your wife?

Roman's grin matched her own. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"Mrs. Reigns." Jasmine grinned. "I like the sound of that."

The words were familiar – they had this exchange when he'd asked her to be his girlfriend – and he was just as ecstatic as he was back then. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course! Yes!" She could barely see through her tears as he slid the diamond ring onto her finger. She threw herself into his arms and crushed her lips to his. "I love you, Roman." She would never be tired of saying those words to him.

"I love you more." His heart swelled with happiness. This felt like a dream. He was engaged to Jasmine. He would get to spend the rest of his life with her; his lover. His wife-to-be. The mother of his child.

Wow. His child. He was going to be a father.

"Man, it all makes sense now. The vomiting...I thought you were just seasick...Your thicker body, you tryna fuck me every chance you get," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

She hit his arm. "Shut up," she said playfully, laughing when engulfed her in a big hug, burying his face in her neck. They stood there together for a long time, not saying a word, letting it all sink in.

"I'm so fuckin' happy right now. I never thought it was possible to ever feel like this, babe," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Jasmine stroked the back of his head, the tears returning. Happy tears. "You deserve happiness, Roman," she assured him. "We both do." She took his hand in hers. "Darling...I know we're here, and it seems safe, but we may never really be safe, you know?" She looked up at him, her eyes tinged with skepticism.

"I'll protect you," he vowed, placing a gentle hand on his fiancée's belly, only just realizing that it was indeed a little rounder thanks to the changes happening inside her. Even after everything she had been put through, the baby had stood firm. He couldn't help but be proud. His baby was strong, just like its mother. "I'll protect you both."

Jasmine covered his hand on her stomach with hers and kissed him. She believed him. He had not let her down, not yet broken a promise so far. As they broke apart, he kept his hands tight in hers, his smile so wide and happy. His joy was infectious. Jasmine wanted to see him look that way forever. Together, hand in hand, they resumed their walk along the shore, returning home.

"I do have one ground rule though," she spoke up, "No guns around the baby."

He laughed. "We should be telling that to the uncles, Seth and Dean. They'll call dibs on who will teach the baby first."

Jasmine gasped, horrified. "No, no, no guns at all. And certainly no explosives! I'm serious!"

"Well, we'll discuss all of that in fine detail. We've got the rest of our lives to do that, after all," he smiled, squeezing his new fiancée's hand.

Returning his smile, she felt her heart warm, the joy she felt inside radiating through every pore. "Yeah, we do."

The rest of their lives with each other. It sounded good. It sounded really good.

----------------------------

“I can pull the trigger right now, Uce. Say the word.”

“Now why do you like gettin’ your hands dirty? Leave that shit for the primitives. You gonna off an innocent unborn baby, dude?”

“It ain’t born yet, so it don’t count.” Jey put his rifle away. “Man, I’m bored. This shit ain’t what it used to be. Everything’s been fucked up the last three months.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “It’s fucked up cuz we allowed it to happen, Uce. And look at us now. We run F.L.O.R.A and the Authority. Chill.”

Jey mulled it over. His brother had a point. “A’ight. So what’s the plan?”

“We wait for the best offer and only at the right time. When that time comes, we serve ‘em all up to the highest bidder. We’re looking at half a billion dollars, brother. That kinda bread gives us unlimited access to the most secure cybersystems in the world."

"Not to mention feed our families for life. Whose names are in the hat?”

“You won't believe it, bro. Trick and Melo Gang, the Latino World Order, Tony D and Stacks…the McMahons…”

Jey’s eyes widened. Those names belonged to some of the most dangerous crime families and syndicates in all of North America, all of whom had been slighted by either Jasmine, Roman, Dean or Seth. “Oh shit. I like the sound of that,” he said with a big grin on his face.

Jimmy’s glinted menacingly. “Exactly. The fun’s just getting started, Uce. Sit your ass back, be patient and relax.”

“Ya know what, big brother? Maybe I will.”

And with that, the twins continued their surveillance on their former colleagues, their targets, their meal tickets, their chance to take over cyberspace and wreak havoc on the world like they really wanted to.

After all, the waiting game was the fun part. It made eliminating the targets much sweeter.

THE END

-------------------------

And so ends Targets. What a ride it's been.

Thoughts?

Who was your favorite character? Favorite chapter/quote/scene?

Thank you all for your amazing support! I'll be on vacation in like a week so expect more stuff from me hopefully soon!

[lime-bloods]

Not an Enigma, and Certainly Not a Curse: the "Ultimate Self" in Hussie's Own Words

I've found myself, lately, in several conversations in a row where the other guy and myself weren't on the same page about what the Ultimate Self meant; and though I welcome the opportunity for discussion, explaining my position over and over again has cost me minutes of my screen life that I simply won't win back. So this post is a departure from my usual fare in that it's more for my own benefit than that of anybody else.

I've been over Davepeta's "superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space" enough already, so if you're interested in the Ultimate Self as it is in Homestuck, I recommend you read "Homestuck's Gnosticism: The Conflict", and then, if that piques your attention, you continue with the follow-up "The World/The Wheel". For the purposes of this post, though, I want to keep analysis, interpretation and hypothesising to a minimum. As the title indicates, this is the Ultimate Self not as I describe it, or as characters describe it, but - so to speak - straight from the horse's mouth.

In Andrew Hussie's commentary on Homestuck: Book 6, p. 312:

Oftentimes, when characters lose certain qualities that came to define them, there's this sense of liberation they seem to experience. They become a happier, more relieved, easier-going version of themselves. When Aradia ditches a defining quality we came to know her by (being dead), she becomes a much happier and self-actualized Aradia. Sollux also seems to be chilling out now that his defining properties (bifurcation, etc.) have been KO'd. He had a mouth full of gnarly teeth that gave him a wicked lisp (gone), eyes full of nasty laser beams (gone, along with his eyesight), and a brain full of doomsday visions and bipolar disorder (also gone—well, maybe not the bipolar thing, because that's probably not how that works, but whatever). You get more of this kind of thing in even higher degrees with some of the fusion stuff that happens later (Arquius, Davepeta), where characters become almost euphoric versions of themselves for having been completely liberated from certain self-limitations which previously defined them. The concept of an "ultimate self," which appears much later, probably has its roots way back to stuff like this, which got the ball rolling on the idea that a more complete or fulfilled self is one that becomes free from mortal limitations, or the idiosyncrasies which comprise a specific instance of one version of yourself. Hence an ultimate self is an aggregate of someone's full potential. It's not just doing away with negative traits, but summing up all iterations of yourself, including ones without those traits, allowing you to move beyond them. Or maybe more accurately, to view them as insignificant in the grand totality of what a person really is.

Importantly, what Hussie does here is draw the conceptual line from the themes of Acts 1-5 to what are often interpreted by some as radically different, even left-field themes through Act 6. Think of this as an extension of one of Homestuck's meta-themes, where the comic undergoes a series of escalations that take simple conflicts to their logical extremes: we start the story worried about a Reckoning which might destroy the Earth, then end up with the more pressing concern that a Rapture is about to end reality as we know it. The Ultimate Self is the end result of the exact same kind of escalation; where the God Tiers are a method of becoming a better version of oneself by merging with one's "ideal" dream body, the Ultimate Self is the logical conclusion that one can become the best version by unifying with every body.

To draw my own conceptual line back to Homestuck: Book 5, page 409:

This connects to the basic question of whether to embrace the regimentation of a heroic path conveniently laid out for you (the expectation), or to reject it as the shallow and rigid confinement of personal destiny (the deviation). These issues are expressed through the fundamental language of platonic idealism: perfect ideas of things, and then specific, imperfect instances of those ideas, or varied permutations, evolutions, or hacks of those ideas through alchemy. The way Sburb "should" go is an ideal (expectation), but the disastrous, chaotic way it actually goes is an imperfect instance (deviation). An "idea" of a person, such as Rose, along with her regimented heroic quest for growth, and all the great things she might imagine herself to become if she followed it, is an ideal (expectation). The messy, flawed, yet more genuinely human individual she does become resulting from her errant choices and rejection of formalism, is an imperfect instance of an ideal (deviation). What's the bottom line here? This is a lot. I know it's a lot. Homestuck is, in fact, a lot.

I've added some of my own emphasis there again, but that whole extract is worth reading. The reason I bolded that part is because this "Platonic idealism" is something Hussie talks about a lot in his commentary, and I think that commentary is essential reading for anyone who wants to even get their foot in the door on this topic. Again, this is something I've blogged about extensively already, so there's more than just Hussie's word to take for it if you're really interested; but for the sake of this post, I'll finish off with, again, what Hussie himself has to say on the matter, all the way back in Homestuck: Book 1, page 123:

With things like Athenums and Perfectly Generic Objects locked and loaded, Sburb architecture seems to be circling widely around a game abstraction-based systemization of Platonic idealism. Homestuck deals with what I am going to roughly characterize as THEMES.

[mechasinosaur]

hello!!! Call me Mecha, Des, or just Breakthru!!! I made this blog for my Godzilla AU called Breakthru! obvi lol. It’s Quazies inspired, though with notable differences. I’m gonna be using this blog to brainstorm, share art I’ve made for it, etc. Sometimes just kaiju stuff in general. feel free to ask about it all!!!! the au summary below :)

Burning Godzilla and his son survive, somehow, though not unscathed from Destoroyah. Everyone believes they are dead, and while they obviously aren’t, they probably wish they were. Plummeted at the bottom of the ocean, just like their mindset, the Precambrian creature has been reduced to their base form. Like some iterations of Godzilla, Destoroyah can regenerate as long as theres a little bit left of them!! It’ll take a lotta time though. Time Dest can’t waste!!!! Feeling like utter junk, they swim around until they’re cast into the welcoming arms of Therapist Titanosaurus, who takes them in and they reside with (reluctantly.) Titanosaurus cracks down on that aggressive, lonely, apathetic mind while Destoroyah slowly brews into a better person. Godzilla may not be too sure of that though..

A very silly-centric au with some sprinklings of angst. The content I make will mainly be light hearted, though I may or may not delve into the sadness of it. Oh and it’s gay sorry that’s probably really important HAHHA