You've never been one for change.

The xenophobic tendency had began when you were little, just an indigo grub wriggling between the hooves of your lusus as he stared at you with cold eyes. At first, he stayed nearby, just off the coast- but as the weeks went by, he was around less and less.

Yet, even though it was a gradual sort of rift tearing between you, the loss of your lusus after six sweeps still hit you. And it hit you motherfuckin' hard.

Then came adjusting to the game- Sbgrub, or something miraculous like that.

Adjusting to the Game, in your opinion, was way motherfuckin' easier than that of a lost lusus. You got to kick it with the imps, made friends with the little things, and you had an excuse to be closer to all of your friends.

Life on a commet, if you remember right (shit these days is just so funky), wasn't too hard at first. Sure, there were a few spats over who got what pad, but after that was squared away, you all were like one big, hateful family.

You were chill with it, though. You were all loving in your own ways, even if it didn't seem like it.

Then shit started getting real.

Y'see, there ain't no sopor on a rock out in space.

Without it, all the motherfuckin' miracles just sorta started runnin'.

You could see 'em when you walked into a dark room.

You would get mad, would storm after them, would yell and motherfuckin' shout and all sorts of shit.

But they'd just keep on cowerin' in the corner like some kicked motherfuckin' wriggler.

So you decided to make your own gogdamn miracles.

They would be yours and you wouldn't have to motherfucking share the little fucks ever again.

Rainbows. The universal sign for miracles.

If you wanted miracles, you'd have to make some motherfuckin' rainbows up in this shithole.

And so, you did.

You weren't content with indigo, blue and green- naw, you had to have the entire fuckin' rainbow before that shit was even worthy of your eyes.

But...

Before you could get your hands on anymore motherfuckers, that gutterblood who calls himself your best friend steps in.

He showed you that you were changing now (and change ain't motherfuckin' cool) and got your ass chill again.

Y'all two were the best motherfuckin' palebros to ever balance out a diamond.

The little red-eyed motherfucker would usually tag along with you where ever you went, snappin' up a storm whenever someone looked at you all funky like.

You would usually laugh that shit off and look at the bright side.

Look at the miracles.

Look at the little troll storming through the halls a half-step in front of you while rantin' and ravin' about some motherfucker or another.

Look at your best friend.

And you'd get this miraculous motherfuckin' smile on your face that was all growin' every time he said somethin'.

You up 'n came to the conclusion that you were motherfuckin' flushed for Karbro, and you told him as much.

He brushed it off at first, so you told the little motherfucker again.

He wouldn't be fuckin' hearin' it.

You kept tryin' and tryin', but he would just motherfuckin' walk away with his head hangin' and shit.

And you had a thought one day- a motherfuckin' thought that made your cheeks all wet for some wack reason.

Now that you want some motherfuckin' change up in this shit, it ain't happenin'.

But that's okay, you remind yourself, cos you motherfuckin' hate change.

Just a quick shot of angst for aimee-pie on dA c:

Hussie owns Homestuck