#Explaining this also just made me realize that wow I have too many thoughts

[kanonavi]

Ship asks! what’s your favorite headcanon for xiaoven?

Okay so when I was firs thinking about this question I had a few ideas, cuz I do have quite a few headcanons that I passively apply to xiaoven pretty much every time I write them. But then I actually realized that they're all just headcanons about Venti that are applicable to xv?? Embarrassing. But I was able to remember one!

My favorite xiaoven headcanon is that Xiao's vision is the first one that Venti ever gave after becoming the Anemo Archon.

This ties in with quite a few ideas I tend to use about how vision granting works (They come from the Archons of their elements, and the Archon does have some consciousness of when and to who visions are being given) and the spiritual connection that vision holders have with their Archons, which basically adds up to Venti and Xiao having this very long-lasting connection to each other through Xiao's vision.

Over the years, Venti has obviously given a lot of visions, and he's felt most of those vision holders come and go as they grow old and die. But for Xiao to not only be such an old vision holder, but also Venti's first, I would think that there's a depth to that bond that has made Xiao almost integral to Venti's being. He always has this feeling of loss when one of his anemo vision holders dies, but if he were to ever lose Xiao, it would feel as if someone reached in and tore out a part of his soul.

I also like this idea for what it lends to Venti's side of the xv pining factor. Because Xiao is so often written in fics to have this feeling of indebtedness to Venti for saving him from his karmic debt, and prior to their meet cute Venti would be oblivious to this. But the idea of Venti carrying a piece of Xiao with him for most of his existence as an Archon, holding this cry for freedom and salvation so close to himself and wanting so desperately to know if that child was able to find the help that he needed just rots my brain in horrible ways.

It makes their yearning for each other more mutual, because Xiao idolizes Barbatos so much and wants to pay back his debt to him, while Venti still thinks of his first child from time to time and wants to know if he ever found happiness. And mutual pining is just so tasty, I don't really know what else to say <3

(Ship Asks)

[weirdmageddon]

why i think aradia and john work so well

(with some stuff i’ve been wanting to yap about for ages)

have you guys ever given arajohn / johnradia (idk if its popular enough to even have a standardized ship name) any thought …? i know it seems kind of out of left field. i’ve considered it and i think its. really really good. i have a bunch of thoughts to unpack. come join me. and maybe grab a snack or something because i didn’t realize how much i'd actually have to say about this

(fantastic art by skeletood)

the other day i made a tweet that did rather well where i said, “john and aradia shouldve talked more. its so simple but i like how she actually earnestly answers his questions. so many characters in this comic are so mean to john for just wanting to know more give him a break”

putting it out there now im not big about shipping for the sake of shipping. there needs to be real chemistry. i need to sense that as a reason why two characters would potentially be a good influence on each other. i never knew why i was always so obstinate about this because it’s fictional and not materially hurting anyone, but i think it might be because i’m not sure how to justify it or explain it if not.

i strongly believe john and aradia would have had it made out for them if circumstances allowed it. (what i mean by “ship” or “johnradia” extends to any kind of interpersonal dynamic, even if just a good friendship. it doesnt even have to be romantic, just some sort of dynamic with them.)

unfortunately aradia originally committed herself to staying out of trolling the kids over their timelines, so john and aradia never talked until year 3 on the ship in the dream bubbles but they never had a truly proper one-on-one without outside meddling. i think if john knew aradia better and her story beforehand, she had more time to explain herself and her history, he wouldnt have been unsettled. and also of course if his experience with the trolls didn’t suck so bad because he already had expectations for how antagonizing most of them were.

i found people’s sentiments about johnradia elsewhere too. i remembered that they were both on the song art for ascend, and searched ao3 to see how many fics have been written to gauge how substaintial it’s been in the homestuck fandom. only 17 of them turned up. but the people who do talk about it are either curious about it or really do like it, and that interested me.

clearly it’s pretty niche character relationship to be depicted in any fanwork and i can understand why. despite being so small, from what ive seen it seems universally agreed upon to be nice. i haven’t seen a single person object to it. what ive seen falls into two categories: “wow i didnt think about this before but i actually dig it” or “(starving) finally some good fucking food”

the pattern im seeing is that people think it’s “random”, but i disagree. there is something there substantiating it even if they’re unable to articulate it.

the fanfic these comments are from is chronology of wind. that fic is really, really good, and sadly unfinished. i have more abstract reasons to believe why aradia and john would be good in theory, so actually seeing someone else actually make something with them helped me read it in action, to get a more tangible feel of the dynamic beyond what we have in canon.

i wouldn’t normally make claims about a relationship with regard to homestuck canon by looking at their relationship in a fanfic, because i think you all know by now i am very nitpicky about accurate characterization, and it does not go unnoticed by me when people get it right because for some reason it feels like a one in a million thing (even though it really shouldn’t be?). so this was a special case. the tone was completely consistent with canon. this fic is so in-character i’d basically consider it an extension of canon. to me it’s like they took the same characters and plopped them into this scenario to see how they’d interact. guys… i love that stuff so much. i love fanfiction or fanworks that depict realistic extensions of canon and stays true to the energy and tone of the source, but deepens it. there isn’t enough of it imo. i want to see more of it.

anyway, what i read of their conversations in that fic basically aligned with what i was thinking in my head about what i’d expect it to be like. i was able to compare how aradia and john talked to how aradia and the other characters interacted, their comparative attitudes towards each other—how they’re treated by others compared to how they treat each other.

have you noticed john and aradia’s communication values are both based on sincerity, being in the proper know, treating people fairly, and thanklessly taking on the necessary work that “must be done” in order to have what they really want — a good time that feels meaningful? and they accomplish this without any adjustment in how they talk to each other.

john is always subtly (or not-so-subtly) asking the people around him to answer him soberly and to the point so he knows whats going on and what that means for what his options are. he needs to know to what end he will be applying his absurd energetic drive into making shit happen. aradia honors his time before john can even become uncomfortable with the amount of time being eaten up by conversation. contrast this with rose, who seems to go on for a while with prose-like conversational adornments. in dire situations that need rapid explanation and definitive answers so he knows what to do, this is really the last thing he needs. aradia doesnt waste john’s time. she answers all his questions, and does it politely to boot. his time talking to her doesn't feel wasted.

john's impatience with this sort of nonsense is also why i can’t see something like dirkjohn working out, for example. to me it feels like @entropicbias also deeply understands this on some level because i literally couldn’t have demonstrated what i mean by it any better myself than that. i'm gonna have to to hit him up about how much i genuinely respect that like tbh hes one of the few i absolutely trust to handle writing and depicting these characters in situations and their interpersonal dynamics. and also care about doing their characterization justice as much as me.

of course people are still entitled to like whatever they like, ship whatever they want to. i dont care. but i just don’t think it would work from the perspective of the minds of the canon characters, how they generally think and approach situations. and i can already tell people might ask me how do i know this? what makes me an expert? i’m not more than anyone else is (although i have been called a "characterization expert" from my friends), but i do know that i can pick up on the energetic chemistry between people, including characters, honestly precognitively, without even thinking? like if it’s stiff or tense or awkward, if people aren’t free to express themselves uninhibitedly, if they feel unsafe or uncomfortable. i can sense this almost instantly. it’s something that’s a visceral feeling in my body i cant express and i have to rationalize it after the fact. like i’m doing now in fact writing this big analysis.

> listen to me talk about my special interest boy

for the next section to make sense, you probably want to read this post. i initially started writing it within this post to explain but there was so much brewing i had to explain the context that it turned into something i wanted to post on its own terms.

> okaaaaaayyyyy i read all that

thank you, really. my main point is using the conceptual tools provided by this system to expIain why aradia and john feel nice together and why i’ve seen people positively perceive the idea of a relationship between them even if it seems “random”.

framing them in this system, it wouldn’t be random! there’s a good reason they seem to fit nicely. this is because john and aradia have complementary forms of information metabolism. information metabolism is talked about in this section.

Jung’s psychic types are the types of cognition, or intelligence. But it would probably be easiest to call them types of IM [information metabolism], since the main difference between the types of people lies in their exchange of information with the external world.

Aushra Augusta, Commentary on Jung’s Typology and Introduction to Information Metabolism

aradia megido’s type of information metabolism (otherwise known as a TIM) is LII. john egbert’s TIM is ESE.

aradia and john’s types are duals. you can read more about what that entails here. in theory, their interactions would reflect the duality dynamic. reading chronology of wind, that one really in-character fic that explored their dynamic made me excited because they do!

michael pierce gave an overview of his impression of the characteristics of this intertype dynamic. despite only rough knowledge in socionics while he wrote this, his understanding of duality was spot on to me from my experience and others and i wanted to share it here. (fittingly, i believe he is also LII.)

Now we have the famous duality relationship: in a nutshell, this role is characterized by two traits: 1) a very close psychological distance or intimacy, and 2) a great ease of interacting with each other. It is sometimes described how meeting one's dual can be the event of a lifetime, because it inspires aspects in each party's character that they had never expressed before: the pair may even drop out of society for a time in order to focus on just each other, and to explore themselves through interaction with each other. The curious thing in this relationship is that these parties are rather different in outlook, and when they are not actually interacting as potential friends it's probably more likely for them to dislike or mistrust each other because of how different they are. […] However, when they are able to interact normally, it is a strange and wonderful discovery to realize that the interaction is unexpectedly smooth and invigorating. It's hard for people to describe, but as I understand it: while both parties recognize their differences on the surface, these differences are created by a root structure that coincides perfectly with each other, so that the differences on the surface are entirely complementary and cause no friction at all.

it’s also meaningful to consider that the structure of my own psyche is LII as well. so i’ve got a bit of a bias towards aradia and john.. not in the sense that what i actually say about them is personally biased, but that the bias is moreso my personal attention to people and characters of these two types in particular to see how my own experiences are reflected in them. i really do feel of a reflection of my own thought and work process in aradia and in the more abstract sense she is like an extension of myself. when people say they like aradia as a character i get secondhand joy from that because shares certain specific traits with me. of course i am still my own person though.

these are some of the most apt profiles i've found for these types at a glance. again, think about these characters as you read these descriptions. [from here (ESE / LII)]

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert) - john

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on socializing and guiding social situations and interactions so that the people involved can have fun and enjoy themselves. ESEs are typically in the middle of what is happening socially and know about the latest events and what people think and feel about them. They are skilled at bringing people together in fun and interesting ways and making everyone feel actively involved. Their friends know them as people who love life and feel most at home in social situations surrounded by other fun people. In their pursuit of fun-oriented and stimulating social interactions, ESEs typically neglect to structure their own thought processes and views in a way that would help them know exactly what they think and why. They are receptive to others’ attempts to help them introduce more structure and logical consistency in their life and thinking processes. They gravitate most to people who open up to fun and emotional interaction easily, yet are also skilled at systematizing thoughts and views and explaining ideological matters.

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert) - aradia

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on logical, structured thought and generating true assertions and views. LIIs are typically strict thinkers who are concerned that everything fits together in a logical way. They are skilled at understanding, generating, and criticizing logical arguments and instilling their views in the people around them. Their friends know them as people with well-organized thoughts and opinions who know what they think and can elucidate their ideas to others. In their pursuit of logical understanding, LIIs typically neglect their external social interactions and activities that would help them lighten up and experience a connection with other people. They are receptive to others’ attempts to create these fun and lighthearted situations for them. They gravitate most to people who are interested in their opinions and understanding of things, but are also skilled at organizing social interactions and creating a sense of emotional unity.

ive recently consciously experienced the feeling of duality for the first time since i've been communicating with my mom's high school classmate, and it is definitely a real thing. i even remember mom pointing out she noticed when we were all talking on the phone over a year ago that i perked up whenever he said stuff. here is how i explained it:

its bonkers how only once i experience something for myself i’m able to explain in detail what makes it so great based on what my impressions about it were because i tend to have a peculiar way of describing the qualities of an experience. my specialty is deep precision in my analogies for what it’s like. so now i can tell you how conversations with your dual feel… heres the status report. it’s weightless. its so strange. like the topic conversation stretches into infinity that you can pick right back up at any time. it’s hazy and unfocused but still pleasant (unless you’re particularly self-conscious and need to unlearn hiding your true self). but the best parts of it come when you have a specific issue or insecurity that comes with being your most natural self that the world seems to misunderstand about you, or just not give you what you don't even know you’ve been looking for. i think you might mutually intimidate each other at first because you're lowkey both expecting to be made fun of for your inadequacy with certain types of information that the other is nuanced with (and you’re not), but it never comes. you don't feel like what your dual wants in life is wrong. your dual seems so talented in all the ways you hope to shine but you’re always unsure of. for the introvert (me) wishing they felt their own active presence as an object (Se, Ne, Te, Fe) like the extravert does. for the extravert, wishing they felt their own relationships with other objects (Si, Ni, Ti, Fi) like the introvert does. any other intertype relationship (ITR) vs. duality is like the difference between 99% and 100% totality of a solar eclipse, except it’s the level of understanding with another person, like the eclipsing of your own information metabolism with theirs. of course there are other things that influence how well your relationship with this person goes, but i am talking strictly about when it comes to basic communication, the level of understanding you share. sometimes it might feel like you dont have much to talk about or the topic is unfocused, because you two ARE opposites in many ways after all, especially at a glance (domain of interests usually come with specific macroelements. theories about thought structures—like socionics, for instance—are in the domain of intuition, while physical interests and experiences are in the domain of sensorics.) i’m LII in the NT club (researchers) and my dual ESE in the SF club (social-communicative). so they’re constantly providing you with information from their own niche in life that you may be entirely unfamiliar with, but for some reason still interests and relaxes you to hear. you might not feel like you have a lot to say about the topic since but you are fully amazed by this person’s activity. it also makes you feel more sure of yourself and more confident that people truly appreciate and need your natural abilities.

> let’s break it down

here’s some lightly modified descriptions of the information blocks in LII and ESE's information metabolism models from pyatnitsky so you can get an overarching impression of how their type contributes to the informational sphere. i added some of my own adjustments and borrowed some sentences from stratiyevskaya's descriptions. additionally, you can click on the name of the block for an explanation of the role it plays.

i put about a week’s work into these collages but my goal with them was to actually show where i think these information blocks are most pertinent in these characters specifically and where they apply so it’s not just some abstract thing, just as supplementary examples as needed. (for the meaning of these information elements individually you can refer to cysia’s document.)

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert)

EGO (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Analytical thinking. They are well aware of the interrelationships of some objects or phenomena with others, and what laws are in effect or not in effect. On the basis of a comprehensive analysis, they put forward insights about the global essence of specific objects and phenomena, their possibilities. They acutely charge the situation with potential energy. For every situation, there is an archetype.

Super-EGO (-Fi? -> -Se!). Normative ideas about relationships between people and ways to get out of unpleasant ethical situations. Understands ethics as founded on the principles of fairness; to do to one side of the equation that you do to the other. Volitional manifestations in order to protect their living space are carried out only on the basis of personal experience. Because of the limited opportunities to fight back, they react painfully to attempts of any interference in his life. Does not respond to any arbitrary crudeness or volitional pressuring. Does not compromise goals, stubbornly clings to them. Avoids direct confrontation if possible, would rather talk civilly and earnestly. Uses their naturally strong sense of the conditioning of objects over time to avoid collisions with their material interests. Due to this, they may appear as someone with very little weaknesses.

Super-ID (+Fe -> +Si?) Attracts information about a good mood, a specific positive state, or a feeling. They would like to think that they can eliminate serious inconveniences, make the environment around them more comfortable. This skill needs to be evaluated. They are unconsciously activated when there is a need to make the environment more comfortable, which should lead to a better state, raise the mood at least in the immediate environment. In friendly, comfortable, and informal company, their cool exterior thaws and they start lighting up with joviality.

ID (+Te! → +Ni?). Has developed guidelines and methods that relate to specific practical activities, technological effectiveness, and resource use. Spontaneously feels the correct allocation of resources over time, which allows them to effectively solve tasks at an unhurried pace. This pace is deeply rational in nature.

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert)

EGO (+Fe! -> +Si?). Perception of the world is fundamentally emotional. Feels the emotional atmosphere well in any situation, knows the relevance of the way of expression, the place and weight (importance) of the internal state in each situation. Flexible approach to solving problems of managing and expressing emotions. They show bright emotionality both negative and positive. Creatively produces around themself comfort, coziness, conveniently arranges space, surrounds others with beautiful things, changing thereby the general condition and mood. Usually opinionated about their tastes.

(wow i really went all out on that this one that tumblr wont even display it in full resolution, so here. john just has so many more lines to choose from, sorry!)

Super-EGO (+Te! -> +Ni?). Practical and technological thinking is tightly based on acquired knowledge and patterns of solving similar problems. Methods of business activity in both general and specific areas are selected based on the opinion of reputable sources, or adjusted to one of the mastered templates. Predicting specific changes in the sphere of their interests is carried out only on the basis of personal experience. He is not able to compare his own method of forecasting with others, so he is sensitive to criticism of poor timing or deadlines, does not like situations that feel like a waste of his time; he is lost in connection with negative events. Guided by purely personal experience, he chooses specific times and deadlines for various tasks with a normative understanding of business activity in general.

Super-ID (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Attracts information about the order, specific logical relationships in the field of activity or interests. Needs someone to suggest specific ways to make connections between phenomena, patterns, and rules. Tries to be reasonable himself, even though he knows that this is not characteristic of him. Sometimes he openly talks of his actions that were poorly reasoned through, as if inviting other people to laugh at his thoughtlessness. The ordering and systematization of thought opens up a new way of understanding of events that are happening around him, as well as new prospects, potential, and capabilities. He likes to think that he understands the essence of a situation and lights up with new ideas. This skill needs to be evaluated. It is unconsciously activated when it is necessary to create order, clear consistency and clarity on a particular issue, especially if their abilities are recognized.

ID (-Fi? -> -Se!). Involuntarily keeps track of communications in their social circle. Without hesitation, they use a variety of ways to establish and maintain relationships that have been developed in his personal practice. Good relationships are important for personal inner confidence in a situation. To prevent unfavorable relationships, they are inclined, often without even realizing it, to act with pressure, forcing a showdown, forcing the partner to change the relationship for the better. Frequently demonstrates his resoluteness, persistence, and purposefulness, as if proposing his behavior as a model for imitation. Usually tells in much detail what obstacles were created before him, and how he overcame them, what he was told in response, and what he replied with, and so on and in the like.

(full res)

you might be able to see already how they would complement each other's thought process nicely. here are some descriptions of what the communication between these types is like:

+Fe! : program function of ESE and dual-seeking function of LII

The ESE periodically tells emotionally charged "program" function stories, telling of how somebody has acted and what they have done. The main orientation of ESE's leading ethical program is: "No one should be offended." The LII carefully listens to these statements, and, demonstrating a full understanding of these issues, develops logical basis for them, e.g. in calm persuasive voice he explains how the ESE has acted justly and fairly. The effusion of turbulent emotions coming from the ESE is counterbalanced by their absorption by the LII, who breaks them down into fragments by asking clarifying questions of the ESE.

-Ti? : dual-seeking function of ESE and program function of LII

The ESE is tuned to accepting information when it's relayed in clear logical form. He issues requests for logical explanations delivered from a point of view of generalized rules underpinning specific life events, which he receives from the LII, who delivers clear unambiguous interpretations, places the dots over all "i's", and demonstrates good understanding of problems that are of concern to the ESE. Not receiving information of this kind, the ESE begins making demands of those around him to be "intelligent" and understand the reasons of his actions.

-Ne! : activating function of ESE and creative function of LII

The ESE feels uncomfortable if he doesn't extend his help to people who are in need of it. His subconscious orientation is: "care and guard the talented", be kind and attentive towards other people. The LII usually meets such criteria by proving in action his aptitude at uncovering hidden capabilities, winning trust, passing on the knowledge. The ESE creates supportive conditions for people who are capable but lacking in assertive "push-through" qualities, among whom the LII finds himself, and a special work regime that protects such individuals from overloads on sensing functions. Newly discovered possibilities inspire and promote the pragmatic and business-oriented activities of the ESE. He can support a new undertaking or initiative with an enormous amount of energy and enthusiasm, light up by new ideas. Only the LII is able to, even having a vague general notion about the subject, construct a developed theory or idea of any issue. This theory shows to be promising in the process of its concrete application within its field.

+Si? : creative function of ESE and activating function of LII

LII tries to take care of their well-being, but may gravitate towards demonstrative asceticism, exhaust himself with work, studies, or exercise. The ESE periodically takes care of creating an environment that "charges" the LII with pleasant sensations: a reception of guests, a good meal, a visit to a theater or a concert, an interesting trip, and so on. At the same time the ESE takes pleasure in this himself.

+Te! : role function of ESE and observing function of LII

The role function of the ESE manifests as business-oriented activity and initiative, supplying interesting information, provision with material assistance to those who are in need, general restlessness and fussy busyness. This function is normative, i.e. the ESE seeks to comply with the norms and accepted ways of doing things. The nuancing of the understanding of these norms, i.e. introduction of activities that go beyond them, is possible only by considering LII's advice and recommendations. The LII serves as a director of this function, adjusting its workings by advocating the necessity of practical application of some beneficial ideas, rejection of useless though spectacular ideas, and the need to ensure standards of life not below average by rejection of equalization.

+Ni? : vulnerable function of ESE and demonstrative function of LII

The ESE poorly feels the flow of time, both physical, which manifests as running late and poor distribution of his strengths over time, and historical, which manifests as poor ability to anticipate consequences of actions and tendency for traditional ways of solving problems. The ESE finds it difficult to make radical choices. The LII fully takes this aspect onto his shoulders. He has an unconscious ability to distribute activities in time, thereby avoiding work stress and overloads, and is capable of making a radical choice. The LII is able to calmly wait and in the necessary moment get to work when the wasteful fussiness of the ESE reaches its critical point.

-Fi? : ignoring function of ESE and role function of LII

On this function the ESE gives advice and makes demands concerning the creation of appropriate psychological distances in form of proper behavior, courtesy and politeness, denouncing rudeness and boorishness. In this manner, the ESE adjusts LII's role function, which in itself contains a set of large psychological distances: a sullen stubborn look, unsociability, etc. With such fine-tuning it becomes easier for the LII to come into contact with people, whereby he becomes more animated, resolves many of his ethical problems that previously frightened him, gains greater insight into human relationships and a more accurate understanding as to whose side to take in situations of conflict.

-Se! : demonstrative function of ESE and vulnerable function of LII

The LII finds it very difficult to exert pressure on other people from his own will and initiative, especially in cases when he needs to attain something for himself. He finds this difficult to do - to press ahead in certain situations, to gather all the required paperwork, to stand in lines and queues, to petition for his own interests, even the ones that are of vital importance to him. He finds it difficult to push a person away, to sharply refuse someone, to quarrel loudly and defend his rights, to put an end to relations that have exhausted themselves. The ESE doesn't directly affect this function, i.e. he doesn't verbally criticize and teach the LII on this aspect, but takes over its functioning completely. The ESE exerts a constant, sometimes intrusive and imposing pressure on other people if there is a need to achieve something, to defend justice and demand fair treatment, to protect interests of those who are close and dear to him. The ESE goes to the right jurisdictions, inspires people around him and directs them towards work and purposeful activity, keeps up a high pace of life himself, and breaks off relations with those who don't deserve trust.

and some miscellaneous excerpts from literature i liked a lot. (i can't remember the sources i used since i've been working on this on and off, for the past week and i was just spilling things onto the post. i think stratiyevskaya?):

Mood - that’s what matters in this dyad - emotions and feelings. Anything that suppresses and overshadows good mood is considered unethical in this dyad and is strongly condemned.

The ESE does not allow the LII to limit him in the possibilities of consuming the amount of pleasures and joys, which he considers to be necessary and sufficient. Fortunately, both partners in the dyad - LII and ESE - are obstinate and unyielding. Both are demanding, unwilling (and not allowing anyone else) to lower the bar of their requirements, unable to give in and make concessions (especially in anything that is of principle for themselves). Both know how to make their partner reckon with their interests and insist on the fulfillment of their demands.

LII is impressed by the emotional generosity of ESE and his spiritual responsiveness. All this finds the deepest understanding in LII, since he is tuned to the same priorities and values. For his part, ESE admires the ability of LII to speak clearly and definitely on every issue. ESE is struck by the harmony of the reasoning of LII, the amazing clarity, accuracy and laconicism of his statements. To ESE it seems that for LII, there is nothing incomprehensible in this world; he can give a comprehensive explanation on every issue. And everything that ESE thought about before is gradually being built into a definite and clear system of views, which he can now very freely and naturally present. Confusion and chaos in his worldview gradually gives way to a stable logical order, as if someone patient and careful was sorting all his thoughts into shelves. Such clarity inspires and activates ESE; he begins to see some prospects for himself, new opportunities. His energy and activity, in addition to emotional and ethical expression, also receives sensory realization: ESE begins to take care of LII and carefully looks after him. If LII is a colleague with whom ESE is especially pleasant to communicate with, he begins to treat him with something tasty, homemade; will make some small, but beautiful and necessary gift (for example: new cologne or a warm scarf).

> okay that's great and all but when are we talking about john and aradia specifically?

yes, that was the point of this post. i just had to build all that up first so i could walk you through my thoughts in a fully substantiated way.

considering chronology of wind again, john doesnt realize it but he needs aradias frankness and insight. even if she’s unable to explicate on vague things, she states the reason why instead of making him feel stupid (it would create a doomed timeline) but thats all john needs to hear. she is self-effacing and only tells him the truth, and we know other people can take advantage of john’s suggestibility in this way. aradia tells john who is or isnt trustworthy, what actions would be useful/necessary and which ones wont, without any selfish personal motive a la vriska or terezi.

^ (juuuust the record my nitpicky ass doesn’t agree with the truth of the classpect interpretation on behalf of the author in the last bit BUT that is beside the point here. the point is that she is answering john’s question in a way that is meaningful for him)

aradia doesnt realize it but she needs john’s friendy goofiness to brighten her up because she is surrounded by people who antagonize her when she’s literally not even trying to get under anyones skin. everybody gets frustrated at her “spooky nonsense” because theyre afraid of their own mortality, basically telling her to put a lid on it because thinking about hard truths makes THEM personally uncomfortable. but to her it’s always just been a fact of life. plugging your ears to reality is ignorance, but at the same time that doesn’t mean there’s no meaning in anything. she wants to help people see this and she dedicates herself to becoming a psychopomp for the deceased and earnestly trying to make people feel emotionally and physically comfortable in their situation through exploring their memories.

john isn’t hostile towards her. by being herself she is immediately able to earn john’s trust when they initially talk. this is also true in canon; the one time they talked when john initially comes up to her, saying “can i ask you something? seem reasonable, and pretty nice.��� unfortunately he asked her the one question she didn’t have much to say about, and i can’t blame him for expecting all the troll girls to be basically insane at that point. but i don’t think aradia is insane. yes she is odd, but i think it’s evident that she has a good head on her shoulders with knowledge of the way the universe around her works, and in the end wants to simply bask in watching it play out. i think she deserves to get childishly excited about it, especially considering she was dead for most of her developmental years.

aside from getting his answers answered, john shows curiosity about her and her species and even care about her well-being and state. this naturally comes from their conversation’s ebb and flow. aradia tells this straightforwardly, without bells and whistles and without trying to trick him, unlike the other trolls who seem keen on well..trolling him.. and providing him with unclear answers to those sorts things. maybe aside from vriska, but she did have a little bit of an attitude about it wherein her and john’s dynamic felt uneven or off-rhythm, with a large psychological distance. it’s a different feeling with aradia, however. they exchange information on the same rhythm and so are able to achieve a closer psychological distance in communication.

there are no judgments coming from aradia about john being “stupid”. she doesn’t underestimate him. it’s not just that john wants to understand (although he does), but he needs to understand what he is doing. aradia compliments john about the traits he possesses that allow him to be effective. i guess in a way i’m doing the same thing with john right now.

john is so mobile and strung along by being the action hero going from place to place as a can-do deliveryboy that he never has time to reflect on his losses, think through them, and accept them.

literally who else is more qualified in all of homestuck than aradia for talking to john about these things?

on top of all of this, they have objectively significant connections beyond just mutual self-realization in a way i think could've been fleshed out. there is potential here.

for a story, i can think of a way that a conversation between them could plausibly happen using the systems established in homestuck's mythology. in canon, we see that john never met aradia until year 3 on the golden battleship in the dream bubbles when he goes to sleep.

but john still dreamt out in the furthest ring. that means during those 3 years it was possible for john to have had a dream with her in it, or at least aradiabot. i know john didn't know aradia's name beforehand but let's just explore the possibility that they could have had met before that. remember that all these aradiabots were once this person.

aradia had obtained john's crosbytop, his dads hat, and his wallet quite a while before their sgrub session. theres your entry

imagine john seeing that

memories of dear old dad get stirred up through the link of seeing those items

the dream bubble transforms

john is forced to stand in his memories and explore grief and the meaning of life with aradia

physically being in the space around him would definitely help john reflect easier i think because it will force him to actually exist within the space and talk to someone, taking some time out for this. he wanted to know if anything could've been done or if he was just too late to save them. i know aradia would be able help him slow down and introspect. don't forget the opportunities created by the properties of these spaces that are glubbed out in the furthest ring by the horrorterrors that meld the labyrinthine time and space of their surroundings to the memories of the people and finding others through common points in memory. i would imagine that objects known by multiple people would provide a common point in memory to bring them together.

The bubbles allow the players of Sburb/Sgrub who have lost a life to continue dreaming. The reality constructed in the bubbles is a combination of the memories of everyone inside the bubble accessible to any who has learned the bubble's nature. According to Aradia, it would be quite difficult to exit a bubble to get into a new one, however someone inside a bubble can travel to another one through common points in memory, taking their own memories with them to be integrated into the new bubble. These memories mix and combine, but in general, no new memories are created. Additionally, the bubbles store the consciousness of a player who has lost their dream selves and their original selves, making them double as a form of afterlife; the player is then capable of accessing the memory of anyone else who has gained access to the bubbles. Living players, who have lost or become their dream selves, appear in the dream bubbles when they are asleep. It is in this fashion that the bubbles can be used as meeting places between the dead and the living; even those from alternate universes and doomed timelines can be found in a bubble. Furthermore, in addition to memories, the bubbles can to some extent reflect the thoughts of a player. Beyond that, the bubbles can also behave similarly to Skaia's clouds, showing things that are in some way relevant to the player - such as when coin-flip Dave saw alpha Dave grieving over Bro's corpse - something he was not aware of before being shown it by a bubble.

physically reflect the thoughts of the player…… rubs hands

john and aradia share points in memory related to those objects, and to top it all of they are directly related to john's dad on the same day he died, while aradia grew up with them as bizarre alien artifacts from an archeological dig. the memories are more emotionally charged for john, and i think that distinction would probably be relevant to them both.

to be honest i think after speaking with him for a bit she would readily tell john that she regrets not talking to the kids from the universe her team created sooner before she died, but is glad that she can in the afterlife. in canon, alpha aradia told a doomed dave, "i think its absurd i never introduced myself to you in all that time i spent moping around the lab. guess i wasnt in a very good mood".

now not all the aradiabots would know who john is, because the trolls only found out about the humans once they created the genesis frog and hid out in the lab in the veil from jack who infiltrated their session. the aradiabot in the lab was the last one that survived. so if any one of them would know who john is, it would be the aradiabot that exploded. aradia's dream self ascended to god tier in jack noir's rampage on trolls' derse and took those memories with her which we can assume is what made the last aradiabot explode. its known that any original copy that dies when another rises up becomes a ghost and lives on in the dream bubbles, which would include her. a doomed aradiabot we see in the comic, which was the one that originally landed to alternia in the past, becomes more lighthearted after she dies, a bit more like her alive counterpart.

oh yeah, and the more obvious surface-level connections to top it off? ghostbusters? john ain't afraid of no ghost girl. john would be genuinely interested in what aradia living as a ghost irl on her planet and not as a gaming abstraction in the furthest ring would be like. i imagine she would be able to explain the subjective experience and that she had to prototype herself into the kernelsprite order for her server player to see her. there's also no way john hasn't seen a movie as classic as indiana jones and judging from her poster i can imagine he probably thinks it's sweet that aradia's strife specibus whipkind is a reflection of her own personal tastes, interests and hobbies.

so yeah i've just been chewing on all of this and thinking about it but i know i needed to just get this out there somehow. obviously since i spent two weeks putting this post together i'd be happy to hear your thoughts

[droopycoquette]

Coffee And Cupid || Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: How you and Alexia meet

Warnings: Fluff, strangers2lovers, barista!reader

Word count: 2.0k

|*|

You smiled as you heard the small ding of the shop's door, symbolizing that a customer had entered. You continued your task of wiping off a table. 

"Hello, you came just in time I was just about to close up," you start, finally looking up. 

You saw a woman looking around the shop, taking it in. Giving you the chance to absorb her beauty. 

Alexia smiled at you when she was done taking in the cafe, soaking in the small establishment’s aura. The black counters and wooden outlines of the place gave the cafe an old, mystic vibe. The books that lined the south wall gave the area a warmth that many new or well-known cafes couldn’t claim. Then, of course, there was you. As she approached the counter she found you gave off a calm and collected yet fun and artsy energy that made you very approachable. She could feel a love for the cafe brewing in her. 

Her eyes found the menu overhead, and she let out a ‘hm’ as she figured out what she wanted, periodically glancing at you as you cleaned. 

Eventually, she realized that periodically glancing turned into just plain staring making her shake her head and focus. She needed to choose something. She set her eyes on the menu once more and quickly picked something that sounded good. She made sure to keep it simple, you were closing up after all.

You found your gaze drifting to her as well, taking in her athletic build and strong features. From her tan skin to her dirty blonde hair. 

"Hey um, I think I'm ready to order now," she called, forcing you to come back to reality. 

"Of course," you put down the washrag and made your way over to her.

"I think I'll have a turkey sandwich and then an iced americano," she said glancing between you and the menu.

"Are you sure you want an Americano this late," you asked concerned.

She was shocked. She didn't expect a person much less a worker to be concerned for her. She knew it was a little late to be drinking something with so much caffeine in it but she didn't think someone would call her out on it.

"Well, is there something you would recommend," she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

You could tell she was taken aback.

"Um, well,” you paused to look her once over. “You look like you’d like our iced raspberry black tea.”

“Why do you say that,” she asks, glancing down at herself and then back at you.

“Well, black tea still has caffeine just not as much as an americano. You also look like you came back from some sort of work out so it should help cool you down,” you explained. 

“Wow,” Alexia gawked. “You got all of that just by looking at me?”

You blushed, “Was I right?”

She thought for a minute before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, you are. I'll take that raspberry black tea then senora, thank you."

She sat down in one of the chairs and kept her eyes on you. 

"And that's for..."

"Alexia," she finished.

You nodded once more and walked back behind the counter to begin preparing her food and drink. 

"So, what are you doing out so late," you asked as you began to brew the tea.

"Well, I was just coming home from practice, I was hungry and this place looked nice," Alexia smiled.

"Practice? What were you practicing," you asked as you set your sights on preparing the sandwich. 

"Soccer," she smiled. “I play for Barcelona.” 

You almost dropped the cup you were holding. 

“Holy shit.” 

She just nodded and smiled. 

“Well that’s cool,” you say dumbfounded. “I’m glad you came here.”

“Me too, I really like this place,” she gushed, swirling her wrist to make a point.

"If you want you can go look at some of the books while you wait," you suggested, pointing over to the bookshelves lining the wall.

Alexia nodded and went to go look a the books. She picked a random one up and quickly looked at the summary before sneaking a peek at you. She watched as you got the sandwich ready and moved around the kitchen. You looked surreal, there was something so homey about you. You were gorgeous, anyone could see that. Your white button-up with the sleeves rolled up made you look so hot yet so...mommy. She couldn’t describe it. 

Plants and flowers littered the ceiling. It gave the place a homier garden vibe on top of everything else. 

"Find anything you like," you called.

Alexia was snapped out of her daydream. 

"Um, no, not yet," she stuttered. "Is there anything here you would recommend?"

"Well," you stopped to think while you poured her tea into a cup filled with ice. “It depends on what genres you like."

"It's been a while since I actually sat down and read a book but, I remember liking romance," she answered. 

"Okay, well then I would recommend Forever... by Judy Blume. It was originally written for teens but it covers a lot of controversial topics while still holding that romantic aura. It's kind of angsty as well," you said.

"Okay," she muttered while looking for the book. 

"Also, your order is ready," you called out, bummed by how fast you had worked. 

Alexia jogged back over to the counter with the book in hand.

"Do I check this out or do I buy it?"

"You can do either," you laughed.

"Well, then I will get this with the order," she smiled.

"Alright, that will be $25.98."

She gave you $30 and told you to keep the change.

"Have a nice night, ma’am."

"You too."

|*|

Ding

The bell on the door rang, notifying you that there was a customer. 

"Hell-. Alexia! You're back," you exclaimed.

"The food was so good I just couldn't stay away," she laughed. 

"Well, I'm glad. Are you getting something different today?"

"No, I think I'll have the same thing, you really know what you’re talking about. The raspberry tea was delicious. By the way, I started that book you recommended and so far so good."

"That's wonderful! I'm glad you like it," you smiled as you began to get the tea ready.

She's here again, you thought as you busied yourself. She is so cute...and pretty...and nice...oh my god!

"Hey, I never really got your name," Alexia commented.

"How about you come back tomorrow and I'll tell you," you giggled as you began to prepare the sandwich. 

"Is this a new trick to keep getting customers to come back," Alexia teased.

"Is it going to work," you laughed.

Am I flirting? Correctly?

"Definitely," she stated.

Your cheeks warmed as you looked down at your task. You could feel her stare on you and you found it strangely comforting. Alexia could have anyone, she was good-looking, kind, well-dressed, tall, hot, momm-

"Hey,” Alexia called out. “Whatcha thinking about? Were you thinking of me?"

"How could I not," you smiled.

"Good," she giggled.

"Okay, order up! That will be 15.20," you said.

She handed you a twenty-dollar bill and headed out.

You could feel yourself falling.

|*|

Ding

"Ms. Alexia," you smiled not even having to turn around to know who it was.

"You got me," she laughed.

You had gotten her order ready so you could spend more time talking to her. 

"I'll have what I usua-"

"I know," you laughed cutting her off and handing her the food and tea. "It's on the house tonight."

"You won't get in trouble?"

"Well, unless someone else is going to tell me how to run my own place no."

Alexia stopped in her tracks.

"You own this place? That explains it," Alexia exclaimed.

The whole vibe of the café fit you to a T. The mysterious, homey, artsy atmosphere was so you. You gave this place life. If she wasn't in love with you then she was definitely now. 

She took the food from you and then leaned onto the bar counter. 

"So, are you going to tell me your name today," Alexia questioned.

"Only if you promise to keep coming back here," you stated.

She held her right hand up and crossed her heart. 

"Y/n," you smiled.

"Y/n," she repeated, liking the sound of it.

She smiled back at you and stared at you for what seemed like hours. You continued to look away and then back at her, holding eye contact has never been your strong suit. 

"I was wondering if maybe, you could teach me how to make something from the menu?"

You raised your eyebrow. Noticing your confusion, Alexia decided to take a leap of faith. 

"Like a date," Alexia stuttered. "Like cooking together, and-"

"I would love to," you giggled. 

What was this giddiness? Alexia had turned this night from great to amazing. If she could do this just standing on the other side of a counter what was she going to do when she was right beside you?

"Great," she grinned as she took off her jacket and set it on one of the tables.

"Give me a second and let me close up," you said as you left the bar and went to the door to lock the door and flip the sign from 'open' to 'closed.'  

"Is there anything on the many that you want to make particularly," you asked while you opened up the bar to her. 

Alexia passed you and you could smell her perfume. It smelt like cedar and lemongrass, you could get high off of it. 

“I don’t know,” Alexia sighed. “You’re the boss. Literally.” 

You leaned against the counter as you thought about what to make. Giving Alexia a chance to look at you more. She could spend forever staring at you, your small breaths made her shiver and your eyes made her want to kiss you. 

“We could make your turkey sandwich,” you say, thinking out loud. “It’s pretty easy and it doesn’t make much of a mess.”

“That sounds perfect,” Alexia smiles, leaning against the opposite counter. 

A beat of silence follows as you and Alexia stare at each other. Alexia can feel her heart jump as your lips part. It’s as if your breath begins to match up with one another, your very bodies wanting to be near the other. 

“Right,” you exclaim, jumping into action. “The first thing we’ll need is-”

You’re cut off by Alexia’s lips, the footballer not being able to hold herself back anymore. Her hands find your cheeks and cage your face. Her hair tickles your face and overwhelms you with its scent. You quick to kiss back, your hands finding her wrists and holding onto them sweetly. 

Alexia deepens the kiss, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer.  Your arms find a home, wrapped around Alexia’s neck lazily. You could feel her smile into the kiss, her lips upturning causing you to smile too. Pulling away, you both giggle at your giddiness. 

“Are you free tomorrow night,” Alexia asks, slightly out of breath. 

“I can be.”

“Would you like to come to a game? I’m playing tomorrow and would love to have you there.”

Alexia takes a breath and holds it, mentally crossing her fingers. Imagining you in the stands cheering for her made her blush.

“I’ve never been to a football game,” you admit. “I’d love to go.”

Alexia beams. It made your heart flutter and your insides melt. You peck her lips gently before kissing her once more. Both of you begin to sway and Alexia realizes that she loves having you in her arms and kissing you. Loves how natural it feels. You find that you love being in Alexia’s arms, her muscles bulging against your frame and warming you. It was nice. It felt like home. 

[luckystarchild]

Today I was the Ambassador

I had a migraine and sat in my workplace's storage warehouse for a bit to rest, away from noise and in the dark. Glasses off, phone away, just sitting in a chair with my eyes closed in the quiet. I had taken medication that makes me quite loopy, and it had kicked in a little while prior.

Soon a dude I didn't recognize wandered into the warehouse to take a phone call. Loudly. And when he was done, he called out to me from like 50 feet away, "Sorry, I didn't see you there! Hope I'm not disturbing you!"

And I, politely, because I wasn't sure which of my colleagues this might be, and because I'm generally a friendly person who doesn't shy away from social interaction, replied, "It's all good. I have a migraine and am just resting in a quiet place."

To which he replied, "A migraine? What's that like?"

[Long post below the cut, sorry]

For the next ten minutes he stood over me asking questions. What's it feel like? How do you treat it? What causes it? Why do you get them? How bad does it hurt on a scale of 1-10? I reiterated several times I needed quiet, but the hint went untaken, and he kept asking questions. I still didn't recognize him, but I had my glasses off, so I thought perhaps this was someone new, and I felt I needed to be polite just in case.

Eventually, curiosity assuaged, he said, "You never know what a person's going through. For instance, you told me you had a migraine, and I could've walked away. But I didn't, and I came over here, and now I know all about migraines and how bad they are!"

Me: "Yep, that you do. That's empathy for you."

Him: "Yeah! I could've just told you to shake it off. Like I could've told you it's just a headache. But I didn't!"

I was pretty doped up on my migraine meds and therefore not feeling belligerent, nor particularly sharp, but even through that haze I recognized the multiple points of irony studding the conversation. Alas, I was too doped up to think clearly about how to end the interaction, and I just said something like, "People say that a lot to me, to be honest, and I'm glad you didn't."

Him: "People say that a lot? What do you mean?"

Me: "Well, pain is invisible. Some people don't believe me when I say I have a migraine and need to sit somewhere quiet and dark." (No reaction; nuts.) "Some people don't take a minute to empathize. They just tell me it can't be that bad."

Him: "That's terrible. People really say that to you?"

Me: "Yeah. My mother does every time I tell her I have one."

Him: "Oh wow. Do you have a good relationship with your mother?"

Me: "Oh. Uh. No."

Him: "Wow, really?"

Me: "Really. But I came out as queer a few years back though, so the migraines aren't the reason why."

Him: "What's that mean?"

Me: "Which part?"

Him: "That you came out as queer. What does 'queer' mean? How are you queer? Can you explain it?"

This is where I kind of came back to myself through the medication fog. That was a deeply personal question. Many of the questions had been. I only belatedly realized the level of prying happening (see again: medication) and it occurred to me I still wasn't sure who this person actually was. Did I even want to share this with this person? Blearily I put my glasses back on and looked at him. Really looked.

He was wearing a Trump hat. Blue. "Take America Back," it said. Not being the instantly recognizable red to which I am accustomed, and without the aid of my glasses, I hadn't recognized it for what it was.

I also realized I didn't know this guy. He was not a coworker. But my addlepated brain slowly pieced together that there were contractors in the building working on [some maintenance project or another], and this must be one of them.

Normally I would not reveal anything about my queer identity to a stranger in a Trump hat. People wearing them have chased me shouting threats and obscenities based on presumptions they made based on the cut of my hair and my style of clothing alone. Normally I wouldn't be caught dead revealing anything about my gender or sexuality to a stranger in a Trump hat. But here I was, already deep in it, and in an isolated place, and suffering from pain, and being stared at expectantly by someone whose nature and temperament were yet a mystery to me.

But.

Generally speaking, I can tell when someone is asking a genuinely curious question. It feels markedly different from someone asking a shit-heel question that will lead to eventual antagonism. And this guy was not acting like the latter. He looked at me frankly, and his body language was neutral, and while his questions were blunt, he hadn't raised his voice. So far, he hadn't actually been antagonistic. Just blunt, and insistent, and maybe a little tone-deaf.

So, perhaps against my better judgement, I said: "Well, in my case, both my gender and my sexuality inform my choice of the word 'queer' as a personal label. I'm bisexual and nonbinary. 'Queer' covers both gender and sexuality, and for me it feels comfortable to use as an umbrella term." Realizing I did not want to arm this person with a word he shouldn't have carte blanche to use, I added: "But some people in the LGBTQIA community don't like the word 'queer,' so I wouldn't use it to describe a person unless you know that's the term they prefer. The word was once used as a slur, but some of us have reclaimed it, and I'm one of those people."

Him: "OK." A beat. "What's 'nonbinary' mean?"

So I explained. And it took a long time, because (as I soon learned, and expected from the outset) he did not know the difference between sex and gender, nor that male/female are used to describe sex, and that man/woman and male/female are not actually interchangeable terms when discussing gender and sex. He didn't not know there was something called a gender binary, nor that anyone could exist outside it. He didn't know what 'cisgender' meant (he had never heard the term). He didn't know that your sexuality and you gender exist independently of each other. He didn't know the words he could use to describe himself, if he were so inclined.

There was... a lot to cover.

Me: "So, I'm to assume you are a cisgender man."

Him: "I don't know what that means."

Me: "It means you were assigned male at birth and told you were a boy by a doctor/your family, and as an adult, you identity as a man. The identity you were assigned and the one you feel fits you best is the same. It's never changed."

Him: "Yeah! That's right!"

Me: "May I assume you're heterosexual?"

Him: "What does that mean?"

Like I said: There was a lot to cover.

And cover it I did. I was patient. He had some trouble with the lingo, of course, since it was all so new. He got words mixed up, and I fear there were parts I didn't explain properly. I wasn't exactly prepared to have the discussion that day, and I was in pain besides. I spent the entire time on tenterhooks, carefully waiting for any hints of antagonism or mockery in case I needed to fish or cut bait.

No mockery came. He got a little frustrated, I think, when he messed up some words, but he never snapped, or argued, or tried to tell me I was wrong about any of it. He just seemed curious.

"But what does nonbinary feel like?" he wanted to know. "Does it feel weird? Do you walk around feeling weird all the time?"

Me: "Kind of, yeah! Ever since I was a little kid, I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I didn't feel comfortable around girls, or around boys. Neither label fit me."

And he listened as I relayed a few anecdotes illustrating how that felt. And when I mentioned that my parents never really understood me as a kid, his brow furrowed.

Him: "They didn't get it?"

Me: "No. My parents were cattle ranchers."

Wide eyes. WIDE eyes. And that reaction cemented a hunch that had been growing in me since we started talking.

I live in Texas. I grew up here. I know how people think, even the ones I disagree with. To me, this guy seemed the type who might vote a certain way due to the influence of those around him, but one who doesn't know much about politics or anything outside his family or in-group. The one whose family "always votes Republican" but has never actually bothered to look up how a tariff works—and I know the type. I know how to work with someone like that. You have to find in-roads to empathy with these folks. Speak their language. If no one has actually fed them damaging misinformation (and it did not appear that anyone had!), there's an opportunity there to do some good.

Thus, sensing we were at the point of terminology overload anyway, I changed tactics. It was time for emotion, and personal experience, and giving him a touch-point for empathy. He was from this state, and the reaction to my folks being cattle ranchers was telling. So I leaned into that, hard.

Me: "We lived in the middle of nowhere, and my folks don't get it at all. There was nothing in my upbringing to really influence this. We were Baptists, on a ranch, in Texas. I didn't know a single gay or transgender person, but here I am."

Him: "So your parents didn't know anything about it at all."

Me: "Nope."

Him: "It was all you, and from when you were a kid!"

Me: "Yeah! They were absolutely baffled when I started telling them I didn't feel like a boy or a girl. It was just how I felt, and they didn't understand for a second."

Him: "Wow. WOW. It really was just a part of you, huh?"

Me: "Yup."

Him: "It's just how you felt inside. Wow!"

I realize these transcriptions, if read looking for sarcasm, could seem disingenuous. But he sounded sincere. He sounded utterly, painfully sincere. He looked surprised, and baffled, but also rather excited. Like he'd learned something new and was happy about that.

We chatted about a few more subjects after that: he wanted to know what transgender means, and why transgender people feel the way they do, sometimes without having the language to accurately convey his questions. But I listened, and I tried my best to educate. I stressed that gender is something people feel, and it can be hard to understand, but that it's up to an individual to know who they are best. And he nodded along, and never once argued, and asked questions frequently along the way.

We get tired, though, all of us. I was tired, and even though he was still asking questions, I think he was reaching information fatigue as well. So eventually I walked back to something we'd discussed before that I thought he could feel good about. End on a happy note. That feeling would hopefully stick once we parted ways, and color the memory thereafter.

"Y'know, you mentioned empathy earlier," I said. "Walking in another person's shoes."

Him: "Yeah!"

Me: "I think it's OK to admit we don't always understand exactly what a person feels, or why they feel it. It's OK to say you don't really get it. But if someone is living their best life, and they're not hurting anyone, it seems like we should just let them live it. That's what we'd want for ourselves, right?

Him: "Yeah, I agree with that!"

Me: "Transgender people are less than 1% of the world's population, too. So when you see people getting really mad over transgender people, it's like...why are they so mad? We're just living our lives. Don't they have bigger issues to worry about?"

Him: "Oh yeah. Much bigger. You're right!"

The conversation ended after that; maybe a few more light remarks, but nothing worth noting. I invited him to ask more questions if he had them and if he saw me in the building again. He said he would, and he thanked me, and we parted ways.

I relayed the conversation to a friend not long later. They stared at me for a second before asking, "Why in the world didn't you just walk away?"

And the honest answer, at first, was that my migraine made thinking clearly too difficult! But once I focused up, I made the decision to continue the conversation.

My reason for staying will probably resonate with folks from various groups: I stayed because in that moment, I had become the Ambassador.

When encountering a person who seems to have never met anyone from your group, and they realize you are a part of that fabled minority, you are placed (whether consciously or unconsciously ) atop a pedestal. In that moment, you are not an individual. Like it or not, you have become the spokesperson, the mouthpiece, the Ambassador of your entire social group. Anything you say can and will be used against your entire social group by whoever has elected you the Ambassador. If you react poorly, or yell, or scream, that person may leave the interaction thinking everyone in your group will yell, or scream, or react poorly to them. If they deem you, the Ambassador, unreasonable or rude, they may think everyone in your group is unreasonable and rude. And they may carry that opinion with them into the world, and they may inflict that opinion onto someone else.

This is unfair, of course. It's awful. Because these questions are invasive, and personal, and uncomfortable. Reacting poorly would be totally reasonable when asked something so deeply personal. Boundaries are healthy, and if you don't feel safe enough to discuss your gender/sexuality with a stranger in a Trump hat, you should absolutely walk away. Your feelings come first.

I'm lucky, though. I have an accepting workplace, and people who love me exactly as I am, and a support system. My state is a terrible place for queer folks, but given the above, I have some insulation from the worst of it. I'm also gregarious, and I've had some training talking to people off the cuff. If there's anyone who can manage playing the role of Ambassador for the afternoon, it's me. I have the spoons, so to speak. I can be the Lorax for half an hour, and I can try (try!) to give the random dude in the warehouse a quick education on my community.

He's just one guy. But he may know others. And if you can get through to even one unlikely person, why not make the time to take that chance?

So that's what I did today. He might not remember the terms we discussed, or the finer details on gender expression, nor the difference between sex and gender. But I hope the man in the Trump hat remembers the queer person who spoke calmly, and treated him kindly, and didn't get upset when asked invasive personal questions. And maybe (just maybe), I hope in my optimistic little heart that if someone else in a Trump hat tells him transgender people are a scourge, he might remember me, the queer kid who wasn't indoctrinated and came from the same Texas roots he did, and say, "I dunno. They're just out there living their best lives. That's what we want for ourselves, right?"

I can only hope I read him right. I can only hope he was truly listening. But even if I was wrong in that, I'm still glad I took that chance. Big things have small beginnings, as they say, and it never hurts to be kind.

(The only lesson I didn't teach him was to be careful asking such invasive questions, but given this all started over a migraine, I don't think I would've had much luck on that front, anyway. Haha!)

[doberbutts]

I remember reading a post that men are the oppressor class so why would they bother to dismantle systemic patriarchy when they actively benefit from its existence? And as I read it, I thought, Damn, so an entire half of the population can never conceivably help us, and the people who love men in their lives are doomed. It wasn't a helpful post. It basically felt, here's some actual material analysis on feminism and said, That trying to educate and make men be part of feminism is fundamentally a flawed effort, because again, they are the oppressor class, why should they care about uplifting the oppressed?

And it made me think about this very good pamphlet I read, explaining how the white worker remained complacent for so long because at least they weren't a Black slave. And that the author theorized the reason labor movements never truly created exceptional, radical change is because of internal racism (which I find true) and failure to uplift black people. And the author listed common outlooks/approaches to this problem, and one of them was: "We should ignore the white folks entirely and hold solidarity with only other POC, and the countries in the Global South. Who needs those wishy-washy white fragile leftists who don't care about what we think or want?" (roughly paraphrased.)

And the author said, This sounds like the most leftist and radical position, but it's totally flawed because it absolves us of our responsibility to dismantle white supremacy for the sake of our fellow marginalized people, and we are basically ignoring the problem. And that blew me away because this is a position so many activists have, to just ignore the white folks and focus entirely on our own movements. I wish I knew the name of the actual pamphlet, so I could quote entire passages at you.

But I feel this is the same for men. Obviously, we should prioritize and have women-led and women-focused feminism. But saying that men are an oppressor class so they can't reliably be counted upon in feminist activism--it's such a huge oversimplification. And mainly, I'm a Muslim, and I've been treated with plenty of misogyny from Muslim men. And also plenty of misogyny from Muslim women. And I love my male friends, I want men to be part of the movement, and I dunno. Thinking about communities, movements, and the various ways we fail each other and what it means to be truly intersectional keeps me up at night.

I don't know the pamphlet you're talking about but I've read and been taught similar. There's a reason much of my anti-racism is so feminist and most of my feminism is anti-racist. Many people coming at this problem from a truly intersectional angle have seen that there is no freedom to be had without joining hands across the community. Not picking and choosing our allies based off of identity but off of behavior.

As used in a previous example, a white abled moderately wealthy man saying "wow Healthcare sucks in this country, why does this system suck so bad" should be told "hey, this system sucks so bad because it's built off of sexism, racism, classism, and ableism. You want to improve the system? Fix those things and it will be much better in the long run" and not "shut up you're a man. Healthcare is always going to be better for you". The second response doesn't fix that Healthcare is still a problem even if you are at the "top" of the privilege ladder. If we want true change, we have to dismantle the entire system at it's core and build it up without the yuck, otherwise you're gunna get to the top and realize this place sucks too.

Something something if the crabs worked together to hold each other up, they could all get out of the bucket and be free.

[kravchikfreak]

I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of nowhere, but I have been looking for posts that talk about how S2 has declined in quality and there have been virtually NONE. Even tags like 'arcane critical' or 'anti arcane' don't show up even though I know there are posts that are tagged with them. I'm losing my mind. Has nobody else noticed this downgrade? The ideas could have been good, but they were not executed well and the whole thing reads like they wrote it really quickly without any real editing and then rushed to get it out. It feels hollow, like we're seeing a botched or unfinished version of what it was supposed to be. What kind of random ass shit is it that an enforcer comes up to Vi and says, "cait said good things about you," and Vi is just like wow you're right, I'm sold! Even though she already knows Cait has a high opinion of her and that wasn't the issue in the first place! Also who was that random homeless man? Why am I supposed to care about these people? Fans get defensive about the pacing and argue that s1 did a lot in a minimal amount of time too, but I don't think they realize that pacing has to do with making something feel organic. Vi's heel turn into becoming an enforcer was not organic. Viktor's two second goodbye was not organic. Both of these things could have made sense if they'd given these moments even just a little more effort or care. There were so many unnecessary scenes that could have been cut out to give more time to things that desperately needed it (like caitlyn's sad wordless montage about her mom. Why did it drag out so long? Her grief is apparent in every other scene. We did not need an entire abstract slideshow of her making various sad expressions.) There's also the animation. The animation is leagues above a regularly animated show, but if you look closely it is actually not as good as s1. There is less detail, the lighting of the background doesn't always match the characters, and there are moments where the lips don't always sync with their voices. These are minor things that I wouldn't usually care about, but for a multi-million dollar show like Arcane? Riot games recently laid off a whole slew of its creative team, too, and I wonder if they've been making similar cuts before that. It would certainly explain the drop in quality. I wouldn't put it past corporate greed to nerf one of the most groundbreaking animated shows in modern media if they thought they could profit more by cutting corners.

I'm sorry to ramble in your inbox as a random stranger, but it boggles my mind that there are so few people mentioning s2's flaws (not including rage bait, which is annoying because it only delegitamizes real criticisms and discussions.) I feel like I'm screaming in the void like is nobody else seeing this shit??

well hello there! first of all, "arcane critical" is what i was looking for when i was writing that post. gonna put it in tags now before i forget

secondly, i love asks! so no need to apologize. thirdly it's a bummer you went under anonym, i don't believe you get notifs for your anonymous asks, so unless you actually hang out on my blog regularly there's a chance you won't see me appreciating your thoughts and agreeing with you (expect for the animation part, cause for me it was great, i have no questions on that regard. but for each their own. i'm a big fun of the dragon prince first season's animation and still sad they get rid of their 13fps style, so...)

anyway, i got bored at the beginning of my rumbling that time and didn't get into some deep analysis but yes, the first season also had events to go fast and forward, but at the same time they made sense. it wasn't rush or dragged, every scene had a meaning and weight

YES to the burial scene. like i get it, it was drawn pretty and it was sad and grey for cait but my god how many hours can we watch vi going away from 317 different angles? i was actually shocked to see her at cait's, cause after 10 minutes of her hiding in the crowd and leaving before cait saw her i was legit sure the show tried to tell us they broke up for now and won't see each other for a while

and it all feels so odd, as if on the one hand writers had too little allowed episodes to work with their ideas, like they came up with all these important story points but had no more screen time to add actual story development between the points, cause the season is like 10 episodes too short to fit a full coherent story. but on the other hand they have too much unused screen time, like they wrote only 5 episodes but they had to make 9 so now we will just fill the equivalent of 4 episodes of free time with mute repetitive long scenes

who the fuck is that mute lizard cop? is he actually mute? or there were no budget on one more voice actor? what's his problem? why he always looks like he's mad at everyone? should i even care he's always displeased? does he even matter? if no, why he has so much screen time and close-up shots? if yes, why he has no meaning or story or character or name? i swear to god, in the first season that one future-junkie dude had more of a meaning and weight in his two minutes scene than these lizard cop and the new jinx's sister during two episodes

and it all would've been fine, really, if it was the first season, or one of these already bad shows that you don't really expect much of. but arcane was a masterpiece, and also we've been waiting for it for three years. so it's the feeling that we know how GOOD it can be, and the feeling that it just chose not to

w....wait... what if they also tried to do great? and failed to do good in the process

or maybe, as you said, just some internal kitchen shit. i never actually follow media creation stuff and staff so maybe that's just it. still not make it all better for me as a viewer who was too excited to learn at 1 am that the act dropped and stayed up until 7am to make sure to watch it before getting to sleep

HEY THANK YOU for giving me opportunity to rumble about it again

[giggly-squiggily]

I humbly request Giorno distressing our favorite Capo with tickles. Bruno totally deserves it.

Oh you don't have to tell me twice! *dancy dance* I love Bruno so much, and I love Giorno! I've gotcha covered, anon! :D

CW: Swearing, very very light restraints (Giorno's stand ability- nothing truly constricting)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@gladdygirl18 @t-wordiiish

So many zippers…

Giorno knew he was staring- likely an unreasonable amount so, but he couldn’t help it. Bruno’s suit was weirdly hypnotic. Black speckled fabric, the longer he looked at it, the more he realized they were zipper heads. Gold stripes of teeth across various parts of the outfit that logically made no sense, yet still came out incredibly fashion forward. He wondered if the zippers worked or not.

“Can I help you, Giorno?” Bruno hadn’t looked up from his gaze out towards the horizon. Giorno felt himself flush at being caught, suddenly shamed. “You look as if you have questions.”

“I…sorry, Bucchirati. I was just thinking about your suit.”

“My…suit?” Bruno looked back at him. “What about it?”

“It’s just so…odd.” Giorno winced at his lack of word choice. Bruno raised a brow. “Not in a bad way, by any means! I’ve just never seen anything like it! The design especially catches the eye.”

“Oh? Well, thank you.” Bruno seemed pleased by the comment, amused at the younger boy’s ramblings. “Your own suit is eye-catching as well. It’s not everyday you see someone wearing such a getup.”

Was…was he making fun of him? Giorno didn’t know how to feel about it. He cleared his throat before turning back to the horizon, trying not to stare.

It lasted exactly five seconds before he was sneaking glances at the patterns once more.

“Would you like a proper show?” Bruno asked, turning to him completely. Giorno was about to apologize again, but Bruno waved it off. “It’s fine- I am rather fond of this suit. I picked it out for the same reasons.”

“So you also thought it looked like a dalmatian?” Giorno asked, then froze. Oh merde, he let that slip.

Bruno, to his credit, burst into laughter. “Given your love for animals, I’m not surprised that’d be your first thought. I was thinking of dominos myself.” He stretched his arms out and did a slow turn, his back to Giorno to give him the full view. “The zippers were something I had added when it was tailored.”

“Ah..” Giorno nodded, shuffling closer. “Could I touch it?” At Bruno’s nod, he reached out, running his hand against the fabric along his upper back. “Wow, it’s good quality too. Why the zippers though?”

“Surely I don’t need to explain that one to you, do I?” Point taken. Giorno’s eyes caught the glint of the zipper teeth, tilting his head curiously at it. He poked at it, wondering if it was as cold as it looked.

“Eh!”

“Bucciarati?” Giorno flinched back, suddenly concerned. Was he hurt? “Wait..”

“F-Forgive me..I was surprised.” Bruno tried to play it off, but Giorno’s brain was already running a mile a minute. He had jumped, but the sound he made wasn’t one of pain. The spot he poked was rather close to Bruno’s neck…

Feeling bold, he poked again.

“Giorno!” Bruno yelped as he twisted around, eyes narrowed. “What-”

“You’re ticklish?” It wasn’t a question. Red flooded Brunos’ face. Giorno felt himself starting to smile. “Bucciarati…”

“That’s enough of that. As your Capo- Giorno!” Bruno tried to jerk back, but the blonde was fast. Too fast. Bruno’s feet were suddenly wrapped in vines, keeping him in place as Giorno dived behind him. “Release me at o-oohohnce!”

“Whoa, no wonder you’re always gone when Mista and Narancia act up.” The blonde was amazed, grinning as his fingers wiggled along Bruno’s neck. The older man was struggling to escape, scrunched up and slightly bent over. “If they knew just how sensitive you were, they’d be all over you!”

“Doohohn’t assume! I’ihll hahahahve you knhohow I’m rahahther goohohd at tihihickli-eeheheh!” Bruno’s argument was cut short by growing mirth, jumping and twitching at each press and flick of the blonde’s fingers. It didn’t help that the vines by his feet seemed to grow, wrapping around his legs up to his calves and squeezing gently. “Yhohoohu’ll rehehehgret thihihis- ahehahaha!”

“I’ll take my chances.” Giorno chuckled as he dragged his fingers down Bruno’s back, finding the action rather effective. Bruno went from scrunched and giggly to arching sharply with a startled cackle. “Your back is this ticklish?”

“Aheahhaha! Dhohohon’t shahahy thahahaht! Gehahhaha!” Bruno nearly lost his balance from the pokes along his spine. It felt like he was in an elevator, and Giorno was an annoying child who pressed every button from the bottom up. “Rehehehaleahahse me thihihs instahhahnt!”

“Sure- just after I figure out which one of these black dots will get you to scream.” Giorno was rather enjoying himself. How often did their beloved Capo let himself laugh like this? He poked and prodded at all the different dots along the back of Bruno’s suit, relishing the yelps and shouts he let out. “I suspect there’s one that’s especially bad.”

“Ah! Ehehe! Heh! Thehehere ihihisn’t-GAH!”

“Found it!” Giorno dug his index finger into the one aligned with Bruno’s hip, twisting while the older man spasmed and shrieked. “The great tickle spot of Bruno Bucciarati! I’ll keep it a secret for a price.”

“GIHIHIORNO!” Bruno was begging now, cheeks red as beets and laughing near hoarse. “MEHEHERCI! MEHEHEHRCY!” At his please, the blonde did as requested- if not a bit reluctantly. The vines retracted back, acting only as a net to catch Bruno when he stumbled free. When he was steady once more, they returned to normal. “Ehehe..hehehehe…thahahnk you for the sahahve…”

“Didn’t want our Capo to break his nose.” Giorno shrugged, not used to gratitude. Bruno raised himself back up with a long sigh, smoothing down his suit. “I got a little carried away at the end there, huh?”

“Never mind that, it wasn’t out of malicion.” Bruno seemed fine with it. If anything, he looked rather proud. “I believe that’s the first time you’ve done something like this, Giorno. I hadn’t expected such a playful side from you.”

Giorno winced, averting his gaze with a blush. “Forgive me, that was so-”

“I told you, nevermind that.” A hand rested on his shoulder from behind. “I’m glad. For the longest time, you’ve been so stiff around us. I was starting to get concerned. It makes me happy to know you’re not all business.”

“Bucciarati..” Giorno started to smile, looking up-

He found his Capo before him. Smiling the most devious of smiles.

Wait, but if he was there, who was…

Zipper Man. Uh-oh.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be wise of me to not address this. You’re brave, Giorno Giovanna, but like Mista and Narancia in the past, you must learn what happens if you decide to target me.”

Giorno had no time to react before Zipperman’s hands shot out, grabbing his sides and ribs. “Bu-ehahahahahahhaha!”

“Ah youth.” Bruno sat back on the fencing, elbows on knees and folded hands to his smiling lips as he watched Giorno squirm and laugh before him. “So bold, yet so quick to forget. Allow me to remind you just who you’re messing with.”

Thanks for reading!

[sleepy-grav3]

Obsessions - Family

A/n: So, a while back, I made this little thing about obsession speculations. Well, I made a few oneshots about that even further back and just found them. It's a mini-series that looks like it was attached to another fanfic plan? Well, I have no idea what the plan was, so I'm giving you this. There are 4 parts I made? This and the 3rd part are finished, but the 2nd and 4th are incomplete. Better together but still understandable as a standalone, you know?

Summary: Jazz has finally gotten through to Vlad in their therapy sessions. Danny is a bit on edge but relieved. Then Vlad has a talk with Jack and Maddie. Many things are shared.

TW: Unprofessional and very improvised medical treatment, mention of stalking, mention of attempted murder, intensified canonical death(s) (I made it so much worse, but it's not too detailed), hints at suicidal thoughts, hints as attempts, internalized homophobia, polyamory (I don't consider it a trigger but some people don't like it so whatever), mention of a dead kitten

Vlad/Maddie/Jack; Danny's obsession is Space and Protection; Vlad's obsession is Family; Liminal amity Park; Vlad loves animals; Amity is Danny's haunt and the people, animals, ghosts, and more sentient plants that live there are his people; Ghosts feel things more intensely and it's overwhelming for halfas who are also still alive and not built or used to it; ghosts are empaths, they know what other people around them are feeling

Danny was sitting on his bed with a needle and fishing line in hand, sewing a particularly long and deep enough cut from his last fight, when his door slammed open. He jumped, eyes wide, blood draining from his face, and heart entirely stopping.

He feared the worst, thinking about how to explain to his parents about such a large injury that couldn’t possibly be from bullying, but then he realized who it was. Jazz.

She was more frazzled, hair a mess and panting heavily. But thanks to ghost speak, allowing him to be the best empath a living person could be, he could tell she wasn’t scared or panicking. It was similar in intensity, but it was the opposite. She was excited and enthusiastic.

“I did it!” She laughed. Tears were springing forth from her eyes as she paced around, waving her hands around. “I actually did it! I-I helped him- I convinced- I- Holy shit, Danny! I did it!”

Danny sighed, shoulders slumping without the previous worry he harbored. He allowed his heart to beat once more, finishing his stitches as Jazz let out her excitement and… relief? No, it was satisfaction. Huh.

“It wasn’t- I didn’t think that- Wow! I didn’t know how it was all going to work because of how obsessions work and his seemed like it was leaning towards control but- But it wasn’t! And while the situation is a bit weird now, it’s- I got a breakthrough!”

Danny raised a brow as he looked up, having finished tying the knot and snipping off the rest while she spoke.

“Can I ask or are you implementing privacy protocols?”

Jazz took a few breaths, letting out a few airy chuckles.

“I-... No it’s…” She took another breath. “Vlad- I’ve been talking to him.” she quickly went to clarify once seeing Danny tense. “And yes, I’m fine. He hasn’t done anything. He’s sent me gifts and sent me a bunch of textbooks and all that- but nothing over the moon.”

Danny pursed his lips, making Jazz smile. He always hated how she’d slip in astronomy into the conversation to calm him down. She knew how it affected his ghostly side. It was like a sedative, a drug. It worked every time.

He was worried the addiction would grow like it had for other ghosts. Jazz stated that it was more like a prescription for a health condition. After that conversation, it clicked. She must’ve been talking with Frostbite. Damn her empathetic nature. It wasn’t even caused by some instinct (though he supposed that she may have a mother’s instinct with how she always saw through him).

“When did you…?”

“He wasn’t sure which place to get Maddie from and what would be best suited for them.” It took a moment for Danny to remember about Vlad's first cat.

“But why did he ask you?”

“He thought I wanted to be a vet. And yes, I did for a while just to be around animals. Always wanted a snake- but it wasn’t really… Anyway- The last time Mom talked about me before the incident, it was about me helping a friend with their grumpy cat.”

“Well, he went to the right person, I guess. He officially has 4 of them now.”

“Officially?”

“Remember the whole stray thing?”

It started with Danny finding a dead kitten in a parking lot. His obsession about protecting his people, including the animals and even some plants, had hit him hard. He ended up crying to Vlad about it when the older halfa saw him going on a frenzy to find all the strays in Amity to see if they were ok.

Vlad decided to join him and bought a whole building for the strays they've found. It's a play area open for adoption and just to hang out. But before that, he had to keep them in his mansion. He had to throw out his old wardrobe because of all the fur.

It was funny to think back on. Vlad spoiled them so much but refused to admit how attached he got to them even when he had 3 kittens climbing him, a surprise raccoon on his shoulders, and 2 dogs running circles around him.

“Oh, right.” Jazz snickered a bit before shaking her head. “After approaching him enough times while you were out, I was able to start talking with him. And now, he came to a conclusion!”

“And that is…?”

Jazz hesitated for a moment.

“So… how do you feel about hooking him up with mom-”

He opened his mouth.

“-and dad?”

He closed it, eyes now wide. Jazz pursed her lips, analyzing every micro-expression before falling back into therapist-brain when she found nothing.

“I know you aren’t comfortable with him after everything, but you must’ve noticed how he’s calmed down a bit, right? He’s trying and-”

“It’s related to his obsession. He has one.” Danny interrupted; Jazz could hear his slow relief sneaking in. “It’s not… You said it wasn’t control. It's... it's really not?” His expression held hesitant hope. As if he was trying to be careful not to get his hopes up.

Jazz smiled softly. “No, it’s not.”

Danny let out a small sigh of relief, slumping forward. Jazz could see the energy- something similar to adrenaline- drain out of him. He looked more tired now.

The exhaustion he carried was identical to that of a retired veteran soldier. It made a piece of her ache each time he let loose enough to show it. It made her wilt when she saw the similar expressions on his friends as well.

Val was an exception, but it was only because she acted like a military person during training rather than after war.

It made sense.

She hated how it did.

He looked up again, now with a more appreciative look. One that was thankful and genuinely happy.

“Congratulations on your breakthrough.”

“It’ll be a bit easier now, right?”

Danny let out a small chuckle. “Maybe.” He let out another sigh as his head spun a bit from the relief.

He could feel how fuzzy everything was starting to become as something in him twisted. He could feel his core amplifying whatever emotions he was feeling to the point he felt numb. The feeling made it harder to tell if he was breathing, it made it harder to stay in the moment.

He could see Jazz coming closer and he could only smile. He was happy. He was so happy. It felt like he was a step closer to completing something.

“Maybe…”

---

“Can we talk? Just the 3 of us?”

It was a few days after another session with Jazz when he finally convinced himself to talk with Maddie and Jack. Maddie looked at him more skeptically.

It was to be expected, and it made his core want to cry. But Jack accepted without hesitation, looking more than excited to see him. He smiled a bit, feeling his core mend itself with the acceptance alone that he received from Jack of all people. The very person he wanted to kill until about a week ago.

They shuffled to the living room where Vlad could finally sense Daniel in his room along with Jazz’s liminality along with him. It was always difficult to sense liminals, ghosts, or even Daniel in the household due to how much ectoplasm the scientists dealt with. It was worse than how difficult it was to track Daniel’s presence (ghost form or not) when he left Amity Park while Daniel out with his friends or at school.

It’s why he implemented cameras. He had deactivated them once the second truce came around, instead deciding to call Jazz regularly for updates. She was fully honest with him, it was relieving. It made his core hum with glee.

“So what did you want to talk about, Vladdie?”

Vlad took a shaky breath. He didn’t want to lie anymore. He didn’t talk about this to any of the children, but he didn’t want things to bite him back in the future if this worked out.

“Remember the proto-portal? The one we made back in college?”

“Yes?” Maddie confirmed hesitantly, feeling the tension of the room grow.

“Something happened to me then. I got a disease of sorts. It was fatal.”

The 2 of them stilled.

“But you recovered!” Jack exclaimed, though there was a growing puddle of fear. Of concern.

Vlad took another breath, eyes starting to sting.

“I was put into intensive care. They didn’t know what to do, it was a new field entirely. I kept getting sicker and sicker until they gave up and prescribed pain meds in dosages that should’ve been lethal near the end.”

Their hearts dropping was almost audible. Jack’s expression crumbled and Maddie’s became unrecognizable. There was too much weight in her emotions to try and piece together what she was feeling. He was too scared to find out. He was too scared to regret not saying the words “I wish” when his recovery picked up years ago.

He remembered the months during his recovery after he became a halfa. He woke up feeling a rush of so much that he felt numb until he could process it properly. He was still under immense danger of dying. He argued with the doctors, even begged, to go back into the coma he was placed into. He wanted to die without fear or any more pain.

They told him that he’d heal quicker if he was awake. That he was getting to the top of that hill. That he’d go downhill at top speed to his full recovery. He didn't believe them; he didn't want to hope. But heal, he did.

But it was so different as he did.

Too different.

He felt things so much more and it was so intense. His emotions were so strong that he couldn’t stand existing any longer in his lonely room. A room he thought he’d have to stay in for the rest of his life when his condition would go back to life threatening.

“I-” His voice cracked a bit, turning to Jack. “I thought what I felt for you was hate. That I blamed you for what happened to me.”

He wanted someone beside him then. He craved warmth he had only gotten from Maddie and Jack. The feelings he held for Maddie were so simple to understand at that time. It was socially accepted. What he felt for Jack was different. It was, in fact, much more intense. Shivers and goosebumps each time he remembered how Jack would hold him when he got a small injury or was out of breath trying to catch up to the athlete. He felt so small, so vulnerable.

“Vlad-” Jack started, his heart shattering from the fall and flowing through his voice. Vlad could see his tears at the edge of his eyes, ready to begin a stream.

To Maddie, he felt like he could provide whatever she wanted.

To Jack, he thought he felt like he was being treated like someone below him, that he needed to be doted on to be on par with the 2 of them.

But that wasn’t it.

To Jack, he felt like he didn’t have to shoulder any burdens. That he could be loved without truly doing anything in return, that he didn’t need to do anything but be himself.

“It only made sense in those times that it couldn’t be anything but. However…” He turned to Maddie and smiled softly. “It turns out that it wasn’t just you.”

He hadn’t understood it until Jasmine convinced him into therapy lessons. Practice, she claimed, she swore, she lied. She reminded him of how passionate ghosts were. How passionate he was and is.

It was then that he found that he loved Jack more than Maddie at first. That it was such an intense feeling that he confused it with hatred.

It didn’t help that their relationship would’ve been frowned upon then, that it would’ve been impossible and potentially illegal to seal the deal with a ring or even a simple kiss.

It took a moment for her to understand what Vlad was referring to. Her eyes widened, jaw dropping as she looked over at Jack before back at Vlad. Vlad nodded. She shook her head and took a breath.

“What? What do you mean-” Jack was still in the dark. Though, he always was the dense one. “You… You don’t hate me?”

“No, Jack. Though I hope that after this, you’ll be willing to give me a chance.”

“After- I don’t understand.” Jack turned to his wife. “What does he mean? The illness and ‘not just you’? What is he talking about?”

Maddie placed a hand on his shoulder, lips starting to wobble. She seemed to shake her head for a moment.

“He’s been-” She paused, eyes widening slightly before she let out a broken laugh. “He’s been obsessed with me for a long time. And… well, I guess you’re a target now too.”

Jack took a moment to process her words before his face flushed scarlet red. Though he couldn’t speak a word or react further. He simply froze up, making Maddie smile before her lips wobbled and dropped it.

“Are you normally so aggressive?”

The topic was obvious. It made Vlad hopeful that she’d listen.

“No. I was in denial and it had made me sick. For those of my kind, emotional and mental pain is like physical pain to the living. Denying my… my purpose for existing, my obsession, took a toll on me. Ghosts that attack Amity aren’t actually aiming to hurt people. They tend to go too far and forget how fragile living beings tend to be, especially humans.”

Maddie took a breath, looking down.

“They know.” It wasn’t a question.

“They know.” Vlad confirmed. Jazz and Danny knew about him from the very beginning.

Maddie took another breath.

“Why Danny?” Why did you obsess over him like you did with me?

“What- what about Dann-o?” Jack blinked back in.

“It was easier to get to him than Jasmine in my mind. Not only is he a male, but he was struggling with studies. There was also a sort of… connection I had with him. Perhaps it’s due to that portal downstairs. He has been exposed since the womb. Your children have not been fully human for a long time. Liminals at the very least, just as the city is becoming.”

“The city..?”

“Let’s just say that the ambient ectoplasm is the only thing blocking their signatures while that portal is only strengthening their liminality.”

“...”

Jack and Maddie seemed more sick. But Jack shook his head, getting himself back into the topic at hand.

“So- You-... You’re an ectoplasmic entity?”

Vlad swallowed.

“Yes… I’m what they’d call a halfa. According to a roommate, the long exposure from the proto-portal had forced my body to eventually adapt to it and learn to circulate and circulate it differently until it had… Halfas need to go through the process multiple times before they’re stuck as part of the living and part of the dead.”

“Vladdie…”

“I did not feel the final process. I was put into a medical coma. According to the doctors, I had flatlined multiple times and they had to shock me back plenty of times before I became what I am. I still get reminders, but that is a topic for another time.”

It was silent after that. Jack moved almost robotically as he came over, pushing up a sleeve and checking for his pulse. It was too feint to detect from there. He went for his neck next, looking up to Vlad in case he wished for him to give him space. Vlad didn’t fight back, so Jack started focusing on the pulse rate and translating it.

20 beats per minute.

It used to be a low average of 60-70 bpm. It had slowed over the years. He didn’t want to think what would happen when it finally stopped for good. It was already hard enough to remember he had to give a little thought of keeping some semblance of being alive when he was still so tempted to utter a wish.

Maddie came up next to him, lightly pushing him so he’d move enough to let her continue the silent physical exam. Once he did, she started checking his breathing. Then his reflex speed of his eyes in response to light. Then his joint reflexes.

They did all sorts of harmless tests, Maddie writing them down. After finishing the doctor check-up basics, they gave him some room. It made him both relieved and even more scared.

“Would a concussion show as a normal reaction speed?” Maddie asked.

Vlad blinked.

“Ah… No. While it’s much faster now, pupil dilation while concussed is the same as a normal person. Also, bleeding is less in volume, but I can self-heal.”

Maddie nodded and wrote it down.

“Do… Do ghosts have doctors? What if you get sick? We don’t know enough to help you if you do.” Maddie mentioned.

“What… What are you saying?” Please, please be what I’m thinking.

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling brightly.

“I think we have some time to make up! I’ll make some fudge!”

Maddie grabbed his shoulder before he could rush to the kitchen.

“I may be a little… on edge about this whole thing, but with time, I think we can be something. The 3 of us.”

Vlad’s eyes widened and teared up, his core practically squealing in delight. He felt as though his body was lighter. It felt easier to breathe, to make his heart beat, to- to exist.

All he needed to do was give it time. He hoped they’d be as accepting with Daniel as they were with him. And Danielle… They’d accept her too, won’t they? He hoped they’d forgive him about that. It wasn’t his… best moment.

He didn’t realize he started crying until he was pulled into a tight embrace by Jack, who had moved him onto his lap to comfort him. Maddie left them to it, deciding her next step.

She had traps to get rid of and weapons to recalibrate.

-----

A/n: Yes, Danny did faint. Why was that? Well, I'm not telling. comment what you think though. Hope you enjoyed.

Also, the next chapter or whatever, it's a dc x dp thing. I'll comment when the next chapter is up and add 2 links, a masterlist and part 2.

[remindingpersephone]

Curveballs

When life gives you . . . stitches? So I had to have a cyst removed from my back and it was a big boy, so it took 13 stitches to close that hole up (there are so many jokes here). The doc said no lifting, no stretching, because stitches on the back (it's actually closer to shoulder) can rip easily. Since I can't get into the pool - healing wound = no soaking - and it's 9,823 degrees outside so no walking, my living room workouts are the only option. But when I do those it's a lot of arm flailing and improvising because I cannot follow choreography to save my life.

Now, there was a time when I would have used these restrictions as an excuse to completely abandon my fitness goals. I would stop all cardio, sit on the couch, eat way too many brownies, and totally derail my fitness progress.

But this time was different. I've kept up with all lower body strength workouts, and for cardio I bought an under-the-desk, mini-bike-peddle machine. Now, no one is going to mistake this for a real bike. But let me tell you I have gotten my heart rate way the hell up on that little thing. And I can keep my upper body stabile so as not to rip those stitches.

I've also been trying out intermittent fasting, although it didn't really start out with that as the goal. I wanted to see if I was eating because I was hungry, or just out of habit/schedule/when I thought I should eat. Also, my 6:30am breakfasts were starting to feel like habit instead of hunger. So I stopped eating until I was actually hungry. Turns out I'm not really hungry until about 11:30 AM. I also stopped eating after 8PM at night. I had always been a late dinner and even later dessert/snacker. Not only has eating mostly between the hours of 11:30am and 7:30pm helped my digestion, it's lowered my overall calorie intake. It's also making me stop and really think if I'm actually hungry before I eat. Do I need that snack or am I just bored? Do I need that treat or am I just emotional? I know the word "intuitive" is over-used these days, but that's pretty much what I did.

Now, I know tomorrow or next week this could all change. I am a person who not only embraces change, but seeks it out. I am always changing things up in small and large ways. Sometimes routines work for me and sometimes they don't. I'm getting better at not trying to force myself to do things just because the generally accepted wisdom says I should. Or the current trends are encouraging this thing or that thing.

Since we're talking about health, I will tell you I've cut way back on my social media consumption. It just got to a point where I was internalizing a lot of what I was reading and watching, and as we all know, a lot of what's on social media is negative. That negativity was having a bigger effect on me than I realized. Until that over-exposure was gone, I couldn't make the connection on some unexpected effects it was having. Sorry, I'm not intentionally trying to be vague. I just can't really explain it other than to say reducing my exposure to the ugliness and fear that perpetuates even Tumblr and Instagram has had a positive effect on my state of mind. This is a long and rambly way of me saying I'm sorry if I haven't been hearting and commenting on my mutuals posts like I once had. I try to pop in when I can, and I really do read what I heart. I just can't consume it at the rate I once did. But please know that I am always here for DMs and you can email me at anindependentguinevere {at} g mail dot com anytime you want to chat or need support. I am here for that always.

Wow, that was way longer than I intended. Hugs and kisses to those you who made it all the way through. Now let's go get some ice cream!

[yourlocaldilemma]

Golden thoughts {part 2} ln4

______________________________________________

Lando Norris x fem!sprinter!reader

words: 2.1k

part: 2/? part one part two part three part four

warnings: none really

a/n: Feedback is appreciated:)

Woah.” Still standing at the door, Lando’s eyes widen as he looks around your room.

The whole drive back to your hotel you had been questioing every life choice you’d made that brought you to this moment.

The moment where you brought an F1 driver you just met to your hotel room. 

He was nice, and you knew he wasn’t going to pull anything, but this was way out of character for you. The fact that he so quickly made you break your rules made you feel things you weren’t familiar with. 

You realize Lando is still at the doorway. “Are you going to come in or do you plan on just standing there?” 

He begins taking off his shoes, but his eyes don’t move from the window behind you. The sun has almost completely set, filling the penthouse with a soft glow and colouring the clouds soft shades of orange and pink.

“And you have all this to yourself?” 

You shrug, “I love the view. I really like having a kitchen. The bed is more comfortable. I guess you could call it a guilty pleasure.”

Lando only whistles as he walks around taking in the space. He walks past the couch you’ve laid your open suitcases on and snorts as he passes the one filled with your sprint spikes. 

“What the hell are these Y/N? You could kill someone with them!”

You laugh and walk over to explain all the different pairs of shoes to him. 

“They’re sprint spikes Lando.” 

What happened to the dinosaur wrestling gig?” 

“This is just a little side project”

“So you’re a sprinter?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow that’s amazing. Why are there so many pairs?” 

“There’s different ones for the 100 and 200, a pair for practice and an extra just in case.”

“That seems too complicated.”

“Because F1 isn’t?”

He responds by seating himself at the island and turning to look at you. “So are you going to cook me something?”

You scoff at him, but return to the kitchen and start pulling out the ingredients for dinner. 

“I won’t eat fish. I also won’t eat anything spicy.”

Rolling your eyes you begin to cut up vegetables. “I was thinking a dinner bowl of sorts. Rice, veggies, chicken,” sarcastically you add, “does that suit your liking sir?”

Lando pauses. 

“Y/N did you just call me sir?” 

You look up, mortified but unsurprised but his immaturity, to see him half blushing half grinning maniacally at you. You throw a piece of carrot in his general direction, and with some luck it hits him square on the forehead. 

He narrows his eyes at you. “Ugh yeah that’s fine I guess. As long as it’s also not spicy.”

You task him with cooking the rice, figuring it’s easy enough after deciding you didn’t quite trust him with a knife. In between figuring where the cookware was, you were surprised to find the conversation easy and comfortable. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than 5 hours and he brought a welcome new sense of life to the once cold penthouse. 

“Oh my god Y/N it’s attacking me!” You keel over laughing when you turn to find the pot of water boiling over onto the stove top. At this point you’re pretty sure you’ve already laughed more tonight than you have in the last month.

Through your fits of laughter you scold lando. “You muppet you were supposed to be watching it! Are you really not capable of boiling water?” 

“In my defence, I don’t cook a lot!”

“I don’t think that counts as cooking,” you exhale a laugh. 

“You can drive a car at 300 kilometres an hour but you can’t boil water. What are you doing with your life?” 

The atmosphere changes in a split second. His eyes flick downward and examine the floor before meeting yours. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before whispering “ I don’t know sometimes.” 

In a second you see him go from McLarens golden boy with an infinite number of fans to the small scared boy who fell in a love with racing all those years ago, the boy who still tucks his face into his dads neck and leans into kisses from his grandma.  

“Would you like a hug?” 

You regret asking the question as son as it comes out of your mouth. You can’t tell if Lando looks humoured or disgusted by the offer. Instead of waiting for an awkward response you spin around, but before you turn fully you feel his arms on you.

He pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms tightly around your waist, tucking his face into the side of your neck. 

Tentatively, you wrap your arms around his neck and and relax into the hug. Every time lando exhales you can feel his soft breath on your cheek and his back muscles are very evident under your hands.

There becomes a mutual need to keep holding on as you stay wrapped in each other for for what feels like hours as the sun sets around you. It’s only once the oven dings that he pulls away. 

~

Lando shoves his last bite into his mouth with a moan. 

“Oh my god Y/N that was so good”

You giggle, looking down at your bowl that’s not even halfway done. You’re sitting across from each other at the table, Landos back to the window casting a golden glow over his features. He sits patiently as you finish eating, asking you questions in between bites.  

“Favourite flower?”

“Daises.”

“Night owl or morning person?”

“Morning.”

“Shoe size?”

“I really don’t see how these questions are relevant to anything,” you reply, scraping the last of your meal off the sides of the bowl. 

He smiles sheepishly at you. “If we’re going to be friends we need to know more about each other. Obviously.” 

You inwardly raise an eyebrow. The thought of being friends for longer than just tonight hadn’t even crossed your mind. There were about 100 people you’d think the Lando Norris would befriend before you. 

You end up just smiling hesitantly at him. “Obviously.” 

He stands up and takes your bowls to the kitchen, turning on the sink and rummaging through the drawers, looking for soap you assume. “Is this soap or laundry detergent?” He tosses the bottle at you and  thank god you catch it. 

“Eucalyptus scented dish soap.” You translate, wrinkling your nose. “I don’t know if eucalyptus is a really appealing dish soap scent.”

He giggles at the thought of bowls that taste like eucalyptus before continuing with his endless list of questions. 

“So you speak French and English?” 

You let him begin to do the dishes but sit next to the sink on the counter, “English, French, Spanish and Dutch.”

“Show off.”

You dip your finger into the sink and flick some of the bubbles at him. They land in his curls and she shrieks at you like it was acid instead of soap. 

“Y/N!” He grabs an entire handful of bubbles, lays his large hand flat, and blows them all in your face.

You gasp as your face gets covered in the soap, struggling to breathe as you laugh and try to wipe your face clean. When you can finally open your eyes again, Landos eyes are glinting with tears of laughter and he’s smiling his pretty smile as he watches you. 

“You missed a spot.”

Running your hands over your hair, cheeks, forehead, you attempt to find the bubbles that escaped. 

“Here.”  

Lando steps between you legs dangling off the countertop. Softly, he brushes the top of your nose. Your skin tingles and suddenly you find yourself craving more of his touch. 

Looking up you meet his eyes. The tips of his ears are red and his checks have flushed the same pink that tints his lips. The tension between you could be cut with a knife as the pads of his fingers linger a little longer than necessary on you. 

“Thanks.”

He steps back. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head and you take a deep breath.

“If you had two words to describe your life what would they be?”

You’re grateful for his ability to break the tension.

“Glittery shitshow. Enough questions. It’s my turn. Favourite colour?”

“Orange.”

“One thing that will always make you happy?”

“Racing.”

It sounds like he’s reading the answers off of a script. He probably has. 

“Lando. I’m not asking these questions to Mclarens Lando Norris. I’m asking them to you.”

He hesitates for a second. 

“My favourite colour is dark blue tied with neon green, but only in small amounts, and going to the ocean with my friends and family will always make me happy.” He turns off the tap and faces you. 

“Want to watch something on Netflix?” 

It ends up taking you guys 10 minutes to hook his phone up to the TV, so it’s already late when you decide on watching an old Disney movie. You have 4 text from Charles and 3 from Arthur that are all a cross between 3 barley decipherable languages that you’ll answer in the morning. 

The sun has completely gone down, the light from the TV illuminating the room. 4 minutes into the show you’re almost completely asleep, focusing more on Lando than the movie. He is really pretty.

“Y/N.” you realize Lando has caught you starting at him. For the second time this night. 

“Can I braid your hair?” You weren’t usually this bold with new people, taking your sweet time to begin trusting people, but for some reason he seemed to be the exception. You were also extremely tired, and you’ll probably never see him again so, fuck it. 

Lando laughs. “Sure.” He shifts his position, bringing his head closer to make it easier for you. You pick some strands from the longest part of his hair and begin combing through the curls. As you begin weaving them together, Lando sighs happily and relaxes further and further into your touch. 

His body heat is more comforting than you’d like to admit and but the time you’re done the braid your lashes stripe your vision as slowly your eyes close and you become impartial to the outside world.

~~

You groan and roll over as sunshine streams through your window. Peeking up, you see that the clock reads 7:45 am. The events of last night slowly trickle into your consciousness and you groan again. You pick up your phone, which somehow, along with yourself, made it’s way to your bed. There’s a sticky note pressed to the screen that reads:

“Thanks for dinner and the movie last night. I really enjoyed your company. Lando” there’s a uneven smiley face under the words with a number you can only assume is his. 

When you get out of bed you find you’re still in your clothes and makeup from last night. By the time you’re showered dressed and having breakfast (yoghurt with berries today) it’s 10 o’clock. 

You have to be at the track by 11:45 for training, so you figure your breakfast will also have to act as lunch. You skim through social media as you eat, replying and liking posts as your media manager expects. 

Your training that day is light. You settle into the new track, focusing on the mechanics of your run. You leave feeling content about your performance. Your arm drive has improved massively since the beginning of the year and your times and race results were showing it. Your coach waves to you as you both pull out of the parking lot and join the highway. 

By the time you grab food for the next few days, run by the bank and get back to the hotel it’s almost 3pm. You had been in contact with the Charles all day and his hangover wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. 

Thank god for that, because you would have blamed yourself if he had showed up to media day with a headache and bags under his eyes. 

Scrolling through the F1 app you watch a few of his interviews, and as you pass one of Landos you impulsively click on it. You still hadn’t texted him, ashamed of how vulnerable you had been around him last night and embarrassed you fell asleep practically on him.

His face fills the screen as he awnsers the standard questions he does every weekend. When the reporter asks where him thinks he’ll place this weekend, his eyes flash and he chuckles awkwardly before he responds by saying “Another podium would be nice.” The reporter hums a response to this and thanks him for his time. 

When he runs a hand through his hair and turns to leave the frame, you see the small braid you gave him last night still resting in its nest of curls. 

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

It's so annoying to see people in the tag comparing Byler to other queer ships that didn't happen like no Byler is unique and wasn't made by bad writers. Idk if you were in one of those fandoms but it would be amazing if you could explain to all those people why Byler was written differently because I am tired of the classic: "they are queerbaiting you,deal with it". I am like :" wow they queerbaited the Lgbt+ community and the heterosexuals too then because a huge majority of the GA audiences who see Byler aren't from the Lgbt+ community". They also made the "main" ship do unlikeable that it lost at least 40% of their supporters between season 3 and season 4.

Well, I can see where they're coming from, even if I don't agree.

I have never been involved in a fandom before, but I have been a fan of shows/movies where I thought "so and so would make a good couple" only for nothing to come of it. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, though. This is the first time I've ever thought it was going to happen, and I've felt that way since season 2. Each season since has left me disappointed, as I don't want it to be a final episode "twist" in order to avoid losing fans, but it's still only become more and more obvious to me that it's inevitable.

I think a lot of fans get caught up in headcanons, particularly between seasons. As a result, they end up forgetting what is actually canon, and they create elaborate predictions that just don't fit the reality.

Yes, queerbaiting is a thing. I'm not familiar with many of the fandoms that this is used with, but I'll give the fans the benefit of the doubt on it. If a show hints at a queer couple, that's not enough for it to be queerbaiting. But if they continually build it up, only for it to go nowhere, then it might be. If they actively use it as a means to market the show, then it definitely is.

Without knowing more about specific fandoms, it's hard for me to make any direct comparisons. I suppose, should, somehow, Byler not be endgame, then I'll probably understand a lot better. However, I will also be extremely confused and will have lost considerable respect for the Duffers as writers.

However, Byler is a unique animals, as far as I can tell. It's something that has had seeds planted to it from the very beginning of the show. It's not some response to fans that the producers felt they could then exploit for marketing/merchandising purposes. It may not have been obvious back in season 1, but the clues were there. There was no retconning done to make Byler fit. There was no sly stoking of the flames in the fandom to get fans excited about it. That all happened organically as more and more people caught on.

I don't think the Duffers are dumb. They built a slowburn same-sex romance between main characters over the course of an entire top-tier series. As much as it annoyed me that it's taken this long, it does make the most sense, both in-universe and as a matter of mass appeal. Both the fans and the characters themselves had to come to terms with teen boys falling in love in the 80s. That's not something to be rushed if it's to be taken seriously.

Will, the one we've been told was gay, has come to terms with his feelings, only to come to the conclusion that it's not meant to be.

Mike, the one we've seen to have more-than-friendly feelings for Will, is still not ready, yet.

Season 5 will be the catalyst for Mike to realize what his deep feelings for Will really mean, so he can show Will that love is something for him to experience.

[spooky-circuits]

Ok but since it looks like Bruce is the first brother I have to know the Snack Pack's reactions when it comes out that Branch isn't just some Brozone fan, but is secretly the most popular member of the group! Spruc had been the heartthrob, no doubts about it, but Bitty B being so cute and adorable had made it so his popularity skyrocketed over Spruce, he just didn't have any weird contests like Spruce had.

Tangent aside, I imagine Branch won't be able to immediately go for the throat because he'll be too busy fighting back a panic attack. The Vaycationers aren't a threat, but for someone who's only experience with larger sentient races were Bergans, and a severe trauma caused by said Bergans, it's a bit difficult to tell that fact.

Bruce, on his end, would probably be equal parts delighted to see his baby brother with a group of friends... and completely and utterly terrified and concerned over this group of kids. I imagine he probably wasn't quite a father yet, or if he was, he didn't have nearly as many kids and was still new to being a parent. So, seeing his 14 year old baby brother suddenly show up out of nowhere and be GRAY, with a group of half starved children following after him, well, it doesn't paint a pretty picture.

Bruce is in the middle of a lunch rush at the cantina when Bruce Jr runs up to him asking for a menu for his new friends. It isn’t an odd occurrence Bruce Jr has a bad habit of introducing himself to random tourists and bringing them by with the expectation that the food would be paid for. He doesn’t want to crush that generous spirit but him and Brandy are running a business and he needs to remind his son of that. He turns to hand him the menus (they could still be actual customers he isn’t going to be rude) and sees his son standing with a group of cowering troll teens… What is happening? Are those pop trolls?! He hasn’t seen pop trolls in over a decade. He’s about to ask them some questions but realizes that if they’re pop trolls they probably don’t want to be doing this around vacationers. He hates to put his wife on the spot like this but he knows she’ll understand once he explains it to her afterwards “Hey Brandy I’ve got a situation here I’ll be right back! Steve watch the bar for me!” And herds the kids out onto the beach. “Okay first question where are your parents? Because you guys look rough so they clearly aren’t doing their job right.” There are a couple of offended cries from the group but Bruces attention is caught by a face with an intense stare that reminds him of his older brother right before a brawl would break out between the two of them. The rest of the group also seems to notice the shift in the grey trolls mood when they all seem to pull out. Old Brozone magazines? Oh the kids were fans “Okay look I’ll sign your magazines or whatever but I’m really trying to put the boy band stuff behind me okay?” The teens all perk up at this and turn to Branch “Oh wow it really is him! Isn’t that great Branch!” And Branch just charges at him only to get held back by Poppy’s hair wrapping around his limbs. Branch still manages to grab one of Bruces arms and is yelling stuff like “How could you! Do you even know who I am?!” When Bruce Jr grabs his dad and yanks him out of Branch’s grip it leaves scratch marks but he’s not seriously hurt. The Snack pack are all asking him questions like “What the hell Branch?” “I thought you were excited to meet him?” And Creek with his “Oh I knew he wasn’t a fan!”

Bruce is watching the grey troll get surrounded by his friends when he hears one call him Branch. But that can’t be right. Branch is supposed to be at home with their grandma and Floyd. Not here looking beat up and grey with no supervision in sight. “Branch?” He pats Bruce Jr’s hand to signal that it’s okay to put him down. “Branch what are you doing here?” There are a hundred questions going through his head seeing his baby brother but he could only get out the one that definitely didn’t come across like he meant for it to come across.

The rest of the snack pack can tell they’re missing something but no one dares to break the tension until Branch finally speaks up. “I don’t know..” Branch seems to go slack “I thought I wanted to beat you up and maybe make you regret leaving.. but I can see this was a mistake.” He looks at Bruce and looks at his son standing behind him the similarities are so striking when they’re next to each other it’s impossible to miss what they implied. “I guess you found a better family to actually stick around for.” And the words feel like they actually stab Bruce right in the heart at the implication. Bruce is fully aware of how he’s hurt Branch in that moment.

Branch tries to shake off his friends to make an attempt to run off so he doesn’t have to see his brother keep looking at him like that.

[addcests]

five favorite characters

rules: make a poll with five of your all time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. see which character is everyone's favorite.

tagged by @hoardingator :3c

this was really rough bc my favs from the past (who shape lapin core) vs favs rn are clashing...... and it's Really rough when you have multiple from the same franchise and you have to Pick One (i Could put multiple from the same fandom to fill up the poll but that's Boring!)

as for my choices

obvious add pick, if you've been around on this blog long enough and know me, then i don't need to explain this one

minato from p3! aka p3 protag - if you call him his corn star name i am unfriending you Immediately (that goes for all the other persona protag's """canon names""", i def have many a words about this)

usagi but wow i wanted to do all men (bc i'm misogynistic and hate women !!!!! /s) but who would i be today w.o mentioning The bunny magical girl of all time?

libra -- this was tough bc out of all the fire emblem characters there's a few more i'd thought i'd pick but then i realized how crucial libra is to like... my tastes nowadays (and just of all times/overall) lmfao i am sooo weak for the (long hair) blonde type (bonus if healer or support of some kind; see next option below)

aventurine! i cannot explain how this man has invaded my head and took over my life.... i thought kaveh was bad but this gambler is truly infuriating,,, (affectionate) doctor i sympathize with you

and as for tagging, you the person reading this! free free to do it (and tag me!) i am simply too lazy and idr which of my friends are on here now to be bothered

honorable mentions below the cut! bc i'm in a rambley mood (it's pretty long):

the guy who SHOULD ACTUALLY BE THERE BESIDE AVENTURINE IS KAVEH! (genshin impact) happy bday btw light of my life but sorry you passed the torch to your son; other genshin impact honorable mentions: kaeya and diluc and albedo!

hsr: luocha....... you are literally just libra (do u see the vision in my taste now), this man was the reason why i kept playing hsr at all so he def deserves a medal; argenti could have been there too had there been more space! also sunday :>

rip lio (promare) who i demoted in favor of The guy aka aventurine, raihan (pokemon swsh) almost made it as well; i almost put howl (howl's moving castle) in aventurine's slot too but imo howl and lio are like same tier for me -- if i could do a sixth one of them would be there for sure

persona honorable mentions: akechi (if u hate akechi i absolutely Do Not Trust you) and naoto! < 333 also aigis! yusuke and haru! also shinji (if u hate shinji i also Do Not Trust you)

fire emblem honorable mentions: whoo boy i ALMOST put soren in 3rd or 4th slot! chrom was considered briefly too as well as flannel; when raihan was being considered i almost put claude. claude could have been there if i finished fe3h lmfao (some day!) also ferdie too! :3c

others: n (pokemon), leon (pokemon), kaiba (ygo), chibiusa (sailor moon - she should Really be up there with usagi for Many reasons but i'm not doubling up on the fandom so rip), madoka (pmmm), graha tia (ffxiv), sho minamimoto (twewy), thanatos (hades)

alternatively you could just stare at this: https://anilist.co/user/alittlelapin/favorites (but unfortunately it's Mostly anime chars - and Some video game chars who got anime/manga material and therefore they also luckily got thrown in the database lmfao)

thanks for reading o7 have a cookie!

[biffhofosho]

Le Cirque du Fantasme | Part Two

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: SURPRISE, I got too carried away and felt pretty bad when I realized the last half of this story was another 20k, so I made the executive decision to divide it up into three parts rather than post something so egregiously long in one post.

The last mammoth chunk will be posted in the wee spooky hours of Halloween. :-P

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03

“I don’t have many talents,” says Mariam, wringing her hands.

“We’ll find them, trust me,” the ringmaster assures. “Most of us found our talents not through natural gift but through fearlessness. You just have to be willing to try something you haven’t before. You may find that not only are you good at it, but that you like it.”

A shiver rips through her.

“Let’s start simply,” Jooheon says. He takes her hands in his and holds them as he stares softly at her. “Close your eyes and think of a number one through seven.”

She does as instructed and lets her mind drift where it wants as she says dreamily, “Three.”

Jooheon hums. “Now, think of two colors please.”

“Red and blue,” she says automatically.

“Very good, Mariam.”

“How do you know my name?” she whispers.

“I’ve seen your dream, remember? I heard them calling your name.”

“Them?”

“We’ll get to that. You can open your eyes now, dear.”

When she does, the ringmaster fills her vision though he is flanked by the two aerialists as well. All three smile sweetly at her.

“You’ve chosen well,” Jooheon says.

“I didn’t really choose anything,” she objects.

Beside the ringmaster, Minhyuk’s face falters. “I feel a little offended then. And here I thought we really wowed you.”

Mariam panics and reaches toward him. “That’s not what I meant! I thought—”

“He’s just teasing,” explains Changkyun. “Minhyuk likes to do that. You’ll see.”

“We’ll get to that, too,” Jooheon says tersely.

Her head spins with their vague words and their beautiful faces. Up close, the two aerialists are even more bewildering. It’s clear the glitter on Minhyuk’s skin is not show makeup, and it’s also clear that Changkyun isn’t just wearing some kind of reflective suit—he really is translucent in places.

But that’s… impossible?

“So I’m going to try aerial stunts?” she asks, choosing to deflect their attention from her face to the silks and hoops dangling above them.

But it doesn’t work. Minhyuk is still grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. “Are you ready for us to take you to new heights?”

“Minhyuk,” scolds Changkyun though it’s half-hearted at best judging from the tongue poking at the corner of his mouth.

“What? We will.”

“Are you afraid?” asks Jooheon much more seriously.

Mariam turns back toward the three handsome faces studying her.

She should be afraid. She knows how many performers have died even after decades of experience. Even more importantly, she is a cautious person. She doesn’t stray much outside her comfort zone, which is probably why she never left Carmel—she grew up there, her family is there, everyone knows her and she knows everyone.

But she’s never wanted to be this way. She supposes much of it is the way she grew up. Her family is conservative and faithful. It would break their hearts to know she’s not a virgin for marriage, and it would probably break their hearts even more to know she’s not sure she even wants marriage.

Because the truth is what Mariam has wanted all along in the deepest, darkest, most secret part of her heart is to break out.

To break free.

To fly.

She wants things for herself, things she's never been able to voice.

“I’m not,” she confesses.

Jooheon smiles. “Good. Now, why don't you put this on, and when you come back, we'll teach you some tricks.”

Changkyun offers a folded outfit to her, and she looks at them questioningly, but the ringmaster beats her to it. “The fewer restrictions you have, the better. The circus is all about soaring past boundaries. Don’t even bother with your shoes.”

“You can change through the curtain there,” Changkyun says as he points to the entrance.

At last, Mariam takes the offering and heads behind the curtain where she examines what turns out to be a bodysuit. It’s black and red exclusively, with a plain black chest but a corset of red and black stripes. A little peplum skirt of more stripes and black chiffon add a touch more femininity while a cute little bolero with matching ruching hugs the shoulders and the back of the neck.

In order to squeeze into it, she has to strip just like for a swimsuit, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over her at having to press her nakedness into a garment that doesn’t belong to her. She doesn’t have a choice though. She wants to be as free as Jooheon promised her she can be here, so she leans into the feeling of the cool air kissing her bare legs and arms.

She can hardly believe she fits into the snug suit. It leaves very little to the imagination. She’s especially worried about how indecently the seat of the outfit cradles her sex, but she figures no one will be close enough to notice, and maybe the skirt will shield the swell of her lips there.

With a hard swallow, Mariam enters the ring again to find the ringmaster has shed his coat down to the fitted black tee beneath while the two aerialists have stripped off their performance tanks to leave lean, sculpted torsos on full display. Her face grows hot in an instant. All three men look at her with stars in their eyes, though that could be from the single spotlight that still glows into the center of the room.

“Already a starlet,” Jooheon praises. “It’s like you’ve always been a part of our show.”

“Thank you,” is all she can think to reply.

At last, she finally tears her eyes from the performers to see the ribbons have descended again, this time to brush the floor itself. Unlike during the aerial clowns’ showcase, there is a thick padded mat out, she’s relieved to see.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be much of a performer on those things,” Mariam comments.

Jooheon raises an eyebrow. “You may surprise yourself.”

She notices then that the two aerialists have disappeared, but when she turns around, she finds Minhyuk crouching over the shattered remains of the aerial hoop. He scoops up a handful of the shattered steel and cups it between both hands. His eyes close in an uneven blink, like a gentle seesaw, as he cocks his head and peers through a slat in his fingers. Mariam can't see what he's doing, but there's no mistaking the scarlet glow emanating from his skin and the hint of smoke in the air.

After a moment, he lifts his hand, and in the center of the other is a marble-sized ball of molten steel. Waves of heat roil in the cool air as crimson, tangerine, and pearl hues dance in the liquid metal. It’s just as astonishing that he can superheat steel as it is that he can hold it in his hand.

He rocks the ball back and forth between his palms to roll it into a fiery worm. With the tip of his fingernail, he clips off part of the ends before he coils the metal around and up in a spiraling open-ended vine. Then, he pinches the spare ends into smaller pieces until they form into delicate little petals, which turn out to be thorns because a moment later, he grabs another shard and, in a flash, twists it into a sweet flower shape and solders it to the rest of the ring.

Mariam is transfixed by his delicate movements. His fingers are extraordinarily long and even more nimble. It’s clear now that his artistry isn’t limited to the skies.

Minhyuk puts the last touch on his creation and reaches for her hand. Changkyun scowls.

“You can’t give it to her like that,” the blue-haired man reprimands.

With a pop and sizzle, he grabs the ring from his partner, but if it burns as badly as it sounds, she would never know, for this aerialist doesn’t flinch either. Changkyun holds the delicate thing in his palm as it smokes. Then he puffs his pretty lips and blows a jet of icy air that tempers the metal until it dulls like a dying ember and finally hardens to cold steel.

“Milady,” Minhyuk says with a flourish of a bow and presents the ring to her.

“What’s this for?” she asks, her voice ripe with shock.

“Consider it part of the VIP experience.”

Judging from the stern brow on the ringmaster’s forehead, it seems unlikely, but she knows she shouldn’t ask; even if she does, she won’t get an answer.

Trembling, Mariam holds out her hand, and the redhead slips the ring onto her middle finger. It slides on easily, but once it’s seated at the base, Minhyuk’s fingertips warm against her, and he softens the ring one last time as though it’s only made of beeswax. With a roll and a rub, it fits snugly at last, and he pulls back with a grin.

She stares at the ring. She has so many more questions. Is this still part of the act? Do they do this after every performance with every VIP? Why does the ringmaster look like a line has been crossed? But when she looks up at the two aerialists, both smiling beautifully at her, other words come out that she never planned to voice.

“What are they?” she breathes.

Jooheon laughs sweetly as though he pities her ignorance. “They are sylphs, one of the air and the other of fire.”

“Sylphs…” Mariams tests out the word and finds it tastes as buttery as it sounds. She turns to the ringmaster now, her thumb already pendulously rubbing the smooth ring backing. “What are you then?”

“Me? I’m just a man who wandered in from the fog and couldn’t let this place go. But the Cirque du Fantasme has a funny way of bringing out hidden talents you never knew you had. I'm a dreamer—always have been—but thanks to the Fantasme, now I can eat dreams. They become a part of me. They change me. They open me up to endless creativity, which is a very good thing running a circus.”

“I’d call you a liar, but I guess I can’t,” she muses. “A dream-eater…”

“Does It freak you out? What we are?” Changkyun wonders.

“No, that's not it... I don't know. I think my brain wanted to believe that all of this was just some kind of illusion. You know, circus magic? But it's not, is it?”

“It's not,” he confirms.

All three stand very still, as though they're waiting for her to make her escape, but she doesn't move. Instead, she asks, “Is everyone here as special as you are?”

“Well, of course, Mariam. As are you,” says Minhyuk matter-of-factly.

“You're our VIP, remember?” Jooheon notes.

“Let us show you how special you are,” Changkyun offers.

With each passing word, things feel heavier, realer, like she’s descending without moving at all.

“There's so much you're capable of,” assures the ringmaster. He leans in, his dimples cavernous, his eyes shining. “Come.”

Jooheon offers his hand and walks her toward the center of the ring.

“Here,” he says. He extends her arm and grabs one of the silks and wraps it around her forearm, then he pulls it back so the fabric snakes addictively across her skin. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

She nods.

Beside them, Changkyun goes to work on the ribbons, knotting them up with ease. When he’s done, it looks like some fairytale swing straight out of the fantasies of a girl imagining she’s royalty.

“Ready, princess?” says the blue-haired man with a bow as though he’s a mind-reader just like his dream-eater friend.

“I’m nervous,” she admits.

“We’ll take the very best care of you. Wait and see,” promises Jooheon with a smile too beautiful and open to refute.

Mariam takes a deep breath and steps forward.

Minhyuk zips to her side like a magnet and yammers through a series of safety precautions that she knows she should be paying more attention to, but she can’t get the image of his singular fingers contorting metal to his every whim.

In the spotlight now, her pecan skin washes out a bit, which she’s especially self-conscious of the moment Minhyuk’s shimmering gold-flecked hands cinch around her waist.

He lifts her into the basket of ribbons and instructs her to find her balance. Mariam grips the silks and scoots her butt back so she’s centered just as she would be on a swing set. When she’s ready, she looks up at him for approval, and he whistles.

“Wow. Your eyes are like sea glass. They’re stunning.”

She casts them down with embarrassment because it seems insane that an otherworldly beauty like Minhyuk could think her looks are anywhere near as special as anything in their circus, but, suddenly, he pulls the swing toward him, and the self-doubt is lost behind her. She yelps, gripping the fabric tighter as she tips back in the swing. She looks wide-eyed at him, and he stares back determinedly.

“The circus is all about flaunting yourself. Don’t hide from it,” he admonishes.

“Okay,” she replies shakily.

With that, he pushes her back, and Mariam sails in reverse with another little yelp, but that quickly gives way to a surge of unadulterated joy.

She’s flying.

When the swing rocks forward, she leans into it just as she remembers from a playground, and she sails a little higher. This time, she giggles. And when she drifts back, her hair surges around her face and the ribbons billow below her feet like a banner.

“You’re a natural!” Jooheon shouts. “How does it feel?”

“Amazing!” she squeals. “I could do this forever!”

“But there are so many more things to try,” insists Minhyuk.

Though she sours a little at the thought of ending her ride so soon, Mariam’s seen what these performers are truly capable of in the air, and she is curious about how far she can push herself, too, so she slows her swinging until Changkyun grabs the silks to still her.

He’s smiling at her in a way that makes her feel even more fluttery than the ribbons in full sail.

“You looked great. Let’s try a little more advanced swing now. Can you stand in the basket?”

“On the knot?” she asks dubiously.

“Don’t worry. I tied it. It’s sturdy enough.”

She hoists herself up carefully until she’s got her balance between the ribbons.

“Perfect,” he compliments. “Now, try to stand on one foot. See if you can raise a leg.”

This is far more challenging, and she feels a bit like a flamingo, but again he praises her, and her confidence builds.

Changkyun steps forward, his arms wide like he’s waiting for a hug, as he says. “See if you can arch your back. You might drift forward a bit, but just hold tight to the ribbons and don’t worry. I’m here to catch you if you fall.”

Looking at those sinewy arms, Mariam has the urge to let go if only so he’ll catch her, but she isn’t that selfish. She tries in earnest, and since she goes slowly, she keeps her balance. Her head falls back, and she’s met with Minhyuk’s sharp face behind her.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says with a teasing grin.

She squeaks and almost loses her balance, but she chokes up on the ribbons just in time to stand back up.

Changkyun sighs and shakes his head. To her, the air sylph says, “He can’t stop being a clown for even a moment.”

“Hey,” retorts his fellow aerialist, “surprises happen up there. Now the Marvelous Mariam knows she can still control herself perfectly.”

Changkyun rolls his eyes back to the woman in the ribbons. He coaches her through a few standing swings, and when he’s satisfied, he says, “Well, you’ve got our approval, Miss Mariam. Since you’ve gotten basic balance down, are you ready to go a little higher?”

“I’m ready.”

“Have a seat again.”

Slowly, she hunkers down though it’s much easier to balance now.

“Cross your legs,” he instructs.

Minhyuk lets out a wolf whistle. “Now, this I would pay to see.”

Jooheon pinches his friend, but the redhead laughs and raises his hands to swear he’s just teasing—not that Mariam minds any of this. It’s not just the balance she’s growing used to—it’s their attention. She likes it more than she should, more than she ever thought she would, considering she’s never been one for the spotlight.

Changkyun shuffles off toward a pole where he grabs a cable and starts yanking. It’s a sight to see his bare arms flexing just as much as it is to hear his soft grunts, but before Mariam can revel too much in either, she is climbing higher and higher.

The seats grow smaller while Jooheon and Minhyuk stretch a net from tent pole to tent pole. She must be almost two stories up when she’s tied off.

“How’s the view from up there?” the ringmaster shouts.

“Incredible!” she exclaims, her feet kicking in unrestrained joy in spite of her rush of adrenaline.

“You want to try a spin?” Minhyuk asks.

“How do I do that?”

“Try swinging your leg to the side little by little and see what happens.”

The rotations are halting at first as Mariam finetunes her movements, but a few more gyrations of her leg to steady her rhythm, and she’s spinning properly. The silks billow with the breeze, like sails—like wings.

She is absolutely giddy. “I feel like a butterfly!”

“You look like one!” assures Jooheon.

After a moment though, she feels her head start to spin just like the swing, and she stills to let the motion come to an easy stop.

“Doing okay?” Changkyun checks in.

“Just a little dizzy.”

“Hold on tightly, okay? Lock your arms around the silks and in front of you, and we’ll lower you.”

As much as she doesn’t want to come down from her high, Mariam obeys. Since the guys have to roll the net back up, she descends even more slowly than she rose, and yet, it seems she’s down all too fast. She doesn’t have time to complain though because both aerialists surround her to gauge her carefully.

“I’m fine,” she swears, but that doesn’t stop their hands from steadying her in front and back, and that makes her dizzy all over again.

Changkyun, who has sidled up behind her, says in a husky voice, “We’ll do some artistic hangs now, okay?”

“I don’t have a lot of upper body strength,” she informs.

“We’ll get you into some positions that will make you feel so pretty. You don’t need to worry about a thing,” assures Minhyuk.

“Maybe they’re a little more daring,” adds Changkyun, “but we can tell you’re up for it, aren’t you?”

Mariam smiles. She’s up for a lot more than she’s willing to admit after everything she’s experienced tonight.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Music to my ears,” Minhyuk practically sings. “Okay, we’ll start super easy with a foot hang. It’s the perfect place to start trussing you up.”

Changkyun elbows his friend before he looks to Mariam. “Everyone learns this first.”

It is as simple as promised. With their support at her hips and feet, she climbs up a couple lengths on the silk using her feet to pinch the ribbon. When they call out she’s at the right height, they walk her through the winding of the fabric around her ankle and a trembling pike back where she slowly releases her fear and swings completely upside down.

She’s hanging by one foot. Her heart screams. Blood rushes to her head. She feels high even hanging so low, for in reality, her fingertips are just brushing the mat. And there is something about the way the chiffon feels coiled around her... It isn’t just the fact that she’s snared—the binding itself is exhilarating.

“Let’s test your flexibility next,” Minhyuk says as she hangs.

Mariam’s voice warbles as she tries to have a normal conversation when she feels part-bat. “Not sure how flexible I am, honestly.”

“You don’t know until you’ve tried. I’ll bet you can stretch a lot farther than you think you can.”

“Gravity will do most of the work,” Changkyun adds. “Here, lower your leg to the side just a bit, like shoulder-width.”

When she does, half of the silk follows as it splits. She gathers both sides in one hand, and the aerialists show her how to spread her free arm in the other silk until she makes a little box shape.

“You’re a natural,” Jooheon commends.

Mariam releases the box on instruction and then hangs free again until she’s told to drop her free leg farther and farther and farther. The wider she splays, the more her thighs and hamstrings shake.

Minhyuk wraps his extraordinary fingers around her ankle and adds the gentlest of presses. It occurs to Mariam how exposed she is in this stretch. As she dangles like a pretty piece of meat, the little isthmus of lycra is all that separates her most intimate secrets from their eyelines.

“You're incredibly tight,” muses the redhead. Maybe it’s all the blood rushing to her head, but his tone isn’t teasing; it’s heavy—dark. “We need to loosen you up. Let’s try Scorpion next.”

Minhyuk helps direct her leg back behind her like a scorpion tail, and at first, it is awkward, but then she arches her back, and the stretch feels wonderful. The move swings her to face Jooheon.

His smile is different. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking at him upside down, but it’s sharper, almost fanged at its ends.

“Nice and loose now,” murmurs Minhyuk. “Let’s try another easy hold.”

“I don’t know…” she hedges.

“This one’s right side up.”

With their help again, she’s released from her foot trap and eased down the ribbon a bit so they can help her contort her body, legs jackknifed, over the silk so it presses urgently against her heat. The pressure is intense, and she fights to hold in a surprised moan.

In this position, the silks have twined around her upper thigh while her hands are made to wrap the loose ribbon below around her waist. Slowly, they roll her completely through the twists so she is upright again and her upper hand has both ribbons in it. She dangles from a basket loop right up through her middle like an ornament.

Her legs knife into a T shape, and the ribbon holds her weight directly against her sex. Mariam swears she can feel her heartbeat in her core.

The fabric constricts her in all the right ways. It makes her extra sensitive—to the cool autumn air permeating the tent and the pervasive heat emanating from the redhead beside her. She is wound up in more ways than one.

She dangles like this, eyes down at the floor because otherwise she’d be face-to-face with Minhyuk. He seems to know this because he chuckles. He gives her shoulder a gentle push, and she twirls enough to catch a zoetrope of otherworldly faces.

“What a stunning mobile,” Minhyuk laughs again. “I’d like to hang you above my bed.”

“Wow,” Changkyun groans though it’s directed at his friend. “You are embarrassing us, Min.”

“No, I’m embarrassing you.”

“And Mariam,” the blue-haired man corrects.

But she isn’t embarrassed. She’s aroused—which is probably the most embarrassing part, if she thinks about it.

Minhyuk stills the chiffon, and now she has no choice but to meet him face-to-face.

“She’s not embarrassed,” he says with a sly grin, “but she is pretty. How do you feel about one more position before the final one, Mariam?”

“I’m up for it,” she says, her voice trembling as much as the muscles in her arms.

“Perfect.”

He shows her how to unwind until her feet are back on the floor, but that is short-lived.

“Grab hold of the silks together,” he urges. “Pull up as best you can, and don’t worry, we’re here to help as always.”

She follows Minhyuk’s instructions and hikes herself up, but she wasn’t being modest—she doesn’t work out save for irregular bouts of cardio, and she knows she looks a little pathetic, especially since her arms are more and more fatigued with each new stance. But Changkyun doesn’t seem to mind—in fact, he seems to prefer it this way as he steps in and grabs her waist from behind, his sturdy hands splaying across her lycra-ed skin while his hips slot against her barely covered backside.

He hoists her up enough to get her feet off the ground as Minhyuk instructs, “Perfect, now, we’re going to help you flip over while you hook your leg around both silks, a little like that last position, remember?”

Again, with Changkyun’s help, Mariam does it, and she’s hanging upside down with one leg straight and the other crooked around the fabric.

“Use your hands to climb up,” Minhyuk continues, and with more help, she’s upright again. “Push this leg down as you pull the other up, like a pulley.”

That she can do herself, and Mariam beams before she gets a push in the back from Changkyun that rolls her over in the silks, the ribbons cinched tight around her hips while she swings free, held up by nothing but fragile fabric at her waist. Her arms and legs dangle free. She’s bait on the line, though she’s not sure what exactly she’s about to reel in.

Minhyuk gives her a little push so she sails wide with a cry, and they all laugh.

“How pretty!” Jooheon praises. “All dolled up in silk.”

Mariam feels her cheeks heat to unprecedented levels that have nothing to do with her blood rushing to her head and everything to do with the blood rushing between her legs from the gravity of their gazes.

“Very pretty indeed. A real princess,” Changkyun agrees. “But I think she needs a little circus shimmer.”

“Circus shimmer?” she echoes.

Jooheon nods. “They know what they’re talking about. They aren’t just aerialists but artists, too.”

The two performers still the silks and unwind her before helping her back to her feet. While she watches, Changkyun cups one hand and hovers the other over it, and in a matter of seconds, he has a pile of snow in his palm. He grips one side of the ribbons while his fellow aerialist grips the other, and together, they launch into the air in a wide circle around her.

Changkyun blows the snow into the air above her, and as their swirling whips it into a makeshift snow globe storm, Minhyuk puffs a thin jet of flame from his lips like a human blowtorch. The snow melts into water and rains down on her until every inch of her skin and hair is dewy.

The pair lands to appraise their work. Each man lifts one of her hands and brings it to their lips for a kiss, though Mariam doesn’t miss the blaze of Minhyuk’s tongue darting out to collect the wet glimmer on her skin.

“The starlet is truly shining now,” proclaims Jooheon in his loud ringmaster voice. “How do you feel, Mariam?”

She wants to keep the truth locked up because it feels like she’s bragging, but she can’t. She answers, “Pretty.”

“You are pretty. Absolutely beautiful.”

She looks at all three of them sheepishly now and brushes a loose, damp hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Jooheon takes a step closer. “We’ve earned your trust, right?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve made you feel special, too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“So,” the ringmaster hedges as he steps between his fellow performers and wraps his arms around their shoulders to draw the three of them into a tight hold, “would you trust us to make you feel even more special?”

Mariam swallows and her heart drops all the way down to her belly. “What does that mean exactly?”

She asks it even though she thinks she knows—she hopes she knows.

“From the inside out,” Jooheon replies.

“Desired. Adored. Needed,” adds Minhyuk with a lick of his bottom lip.

“Needed?” Her voice tips up higher than her hopes.

Changkyun casts a glance at his fellow performers and sighs lightly. “What they’re asking is, will you let us fuck you?”

As Mariam chokes on her surprise at his bluntness, Jooheon gripes, “I was trying to be a little theatrical for the lady’s sake.”

“It will be sun-up at this rate, and I don’t want to miss another second we could be spending with her, do you?”

“He’s right,” agrees Minhyuk.

Jooheon frowns at both of them, but Mariam interjects, “Is that why I’m here?”

“Isn’t it?” the redhead probes.

Is it? It wasn’t like she had sought out the Cirque du Fantasme on a flyer or commercial—for all intents and purposes, it had come to her—but it had come all the same when her life had started to feel constricting…

Repetitive…

Numb.

She could have left after the show just like everyone else had, but she’d lingered, and she’d lingered with some kind of aimless desire in her heart. For the show? For the beings in it? For anything more than what she’d been living her whole boring life?

“No?” says Mariam. “Yes? I don’t know. I just want…”

All three men lean in, their eyes as hopeful as their ears.

“I just want something different. Something exciting.”

“I know,” replies the ringmaster. “I’ve seen your dream. We’ll give you that and so much more.”

“We’ll give you our all,” assures Minhyuk.

Jooheon takes a step into her personal space, and Mariam’s world fills with him. His powerful voice drops soft and low, as ethereal as the chiffon fluttering in the cavernous tent. “You’ve got us desperate.”

“We’re begging, beautiful,” Changkyun adds, and his voice, which is always low, is dripping like paralytic venom from the fangs of lust now piercing her chest.

“Okay,” she says shyly.

“A little louder, baby,” says Jooheon. “It’s a big tent.”

“Okay,” she announces, “let’s do this. I want you. I want you all.”

The men beam at her before their smiles curl into something less jubilant and far more predatory.

Mariam clears her throat, but it doesn’t disguise the tremble in her voice as she asks, “Are we going backstage now?”

“No,” Jooheon answers with a shake of his head, “baby, no. You’re a center stage girl. You’ve been living in the shadows too long. It’s time for you to shine in the spotlight.”

She looks around the tent. “I don't know. Anyone could walk in.”

“Isn't that part of the fun?” retorts Minhyuk. “You are a part of the show now. Be a shame to waste all this pretty glitter in some dark back room.”

Mariam realizes then that he’s right. She’s putting up this pretense of hesitation because she feels like she is supposed to. This kind of clandestine encounter is supposed to happen to girls very different from her, not a strait-laced, small-town, once-religious princess. She’s been trying to break free—to find her true self—for years, but she’s always held herself back. In her heart, she’s always wanted things she’s been taught she shouldn’t want, but reaching for them felt impossible or wrong. What she’s needed is a push, and here are three men more than happy to push her into each other’s arms.

She bites her lip.

She falls.

“I’m ready.”

She reaches for the bolero to remove it, but Changkyun stills her hand. “Patience, princess. We may be circus performers, but we are also gentlemen. We'd like to kiss you first.”

“Really?”

Jooheon closes the space between them so his arms can encircle her. One hand finds a home in the small of her back, and the other weaves up through her lush hair to cradle the base of her neck. “I knew the second our lips met that it wouldn’t be enough. I’m a greedy guy, what can I say?”

Mariam rests her hands on his hips. She can feel the real him under his shirt, firm but yielding. She clings to him as though he’ll vanish if she doesn’t.

She pushes up on her tiptoes as he descends to her, and their mouths meet sweetly. This time she can be greedy, too, and she is—she takes those swollen lips and nibbles on their plumpness. Jooheon’s even more delicious than she’d imagined, and she falls into him completely, trusting that he’ll keep her upright in his arms because her knees have given out.

“What a hungry little thing,” muses Minhyuk beside the couple. Changkyun only grunts in response.

Abruptly, Jooheon pulls back. He looks down at Mariam, his eyes pitch black. Their panting see-saws between them.

“You don't know how hard I'm fighting to keep from stealing all of your dreams,” he grumbles, “and replacing them with ones of me and me alone.”

She licks her lips and savors the decadent sweetness of the ringmaster. She smiles at him. “After tonight, I don't see how I could dream of anything else ever again.”

Jooheon grasps her face between both hands and kisses her so enthusiastically that she tips back in his arms. His tongue probes her mouth as deliberately as it does deliciously, and it’s clear he knows just how to invade her body as he does her dreams. She feels weightless—who knows, after all she’s experienced tonight, maybe she is floating.

They both come up gasping for air, and Mariam huddles against Jooheon’s sturdy chest while his arms wrap around her. He kisses the crown of her hair and murmurs, “What a perfect answer. What a perfect girl.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” says Minhyuk as he comes up behind them and wraps the pair of them up in his arms.

She’s smothered between them—one hot and one absolutely blazing, though her body is lit up by a fire far hotter than even the fire sylph is capable alone.

Minhyuk scoops her hair back over her ear, and just the brush of his fingertips jolts her in Jooheon’s arms. The aerialist brings his mouth to her throat and suckles at the dew there even as the ringmaster continues to tackle her lips, and their tandem attentions make her tremble. Now, she truly is weightless as they have her pinned between them in a suspended state of bliss.

Suddenly, Jooheon pulls back with a laugh and then a growl. “Cut it out, Min.”

Mariam feels the redhead smile against her throat before she notices his arm retracting from under Jooheon’s shirt.

“Just wanted a minute alone with her. Can you blame me?” retorts Minhyuk.

“You could have just asked.”

“And you would have said no.”

Jooheon rolls his eyes, which all but confirms Minhyuk was right about his friend, but the guilt trip works. With one quick, final kiss, the ringmaster steps back, and before her body can ice over from his disappearance, the aerialist twirls her in his arms so he can kiss her ravenously.

His enormous hands grope her ass as his tongue roams her mouth, and once his base greed has tempered, his fingers work themselves under the tight elastic hugging her cheeks. He cinches the fabric until it’s practically a thong so his hands can return to knead the now-bared flesh.

Mariam whimpers into his mouth, and she can feel Minhyuk’s smile as well as she can feel his nails scratching the smooth skin of her backside.

He pulls back from her lips to study her, a strange sort of grin on his face as he looms over her like the sun. “You are going to look so beautiful tied up for us.”

“Tied—”

But before her question can escape, a chill ripples up her thigh, over her ass, to finally penetrate her stomach. Her eyes wrench from Minhyuk’s to find Changkyun’s hand splayed over her lower belly.

His voice is as icy as his skin as the other aerialist kisses her cheek, leaving a cold tattoo, and says, “You act so innocent. I know you’re not, doll baby. I have a feeling that once we start this, you’re going to beg us to never stop.”

“Please don’t,” she breathes.

Changkyun chuckles and Minhyuk joins.

“Already begging,” says the blue-haired man. “Jooheon’s right. Perfect.”

Changkyun turns her in his arms, and she feels like some trite Southern belle with the vapors, practically going limp in his grip as she basks in his elegant angles. His untouchable beauty bewilders her even more than his strange translucence.

“Kiss me, Mariam,” he orders.

Unlike the others, she must go to him, and something about that makes her feel small and desperate, like she’s crawling on her knees even if she’s actually in his arms. Her hands paw at his bare chest in pitiful attempt to bring him to her, but he stands tall, and she trembles on tiptoe to plead her case with desperate kisses along the breadth of his pretty lips.

When Changkyun is satisfied, he offers her mercy in the form of his mouth. He kisses her back with a sensuousness that his friends can’t quite match. They are bold and brazen where he is elusive and restrained. It makes Mariam all the more frantic for his attentions.

His tongue brushes hers at long last, and it’s like sucking on an ice cube. It’s as soothing as it is addicting. A shiver runs through her, but it’s not heat her body seeks so much as it is satisfaction. She’s overstimulated, but she needs so much more.

Jooheon clears his throat as though he continues to know all. “Kyun’s right. It’s time to indulge in the main event.”

[spookyserenades]

AHHH, I JUST FINISHED CHAPTER 17 AND AM NOW LEFT TO SIT WITH MY FEELINGSSS 😫😫

Honestly, though, another AMAZING chapter!! I keep getting floored by the sheer word counts you’re producing! 25k?? WOW, you’re incredible! Everything was so well written, bestie; I feel like you’re a born writer. The contrast between cute, fluffy scenes and those genuinely chilling moments was so well put together. Speaking of spooky moments, that scene with shadows creeping around our ghost-busting musketeers made me so anxious. I was legit feeling claustrophobic!!

That scene with Seokjin was just 🤌🥵🥵 (need I say more?) and YOONGI!! My poor hearttttt. The way he loved his mother despite her being pretty sporadic parental-wise, it was clear that she cared greatly for Yoongi despite her affairs. It honestly broke my heart just imagining how Yoongi felt the moment he heard of his mother's tragic passing 😭

AND (bear with me 😉) TAE! You big old doofus!! I’m so conflicted. Why would he do this to our MC? Why would YOU do this to me?? (lol) I’m so stuck between understanding his actions and being heartbroken. On one hand, I get why he’d try and move on. MC appears pretty taken, but hookups? TAE—

How could this happen to my shy bear? Literally how??? He’s so shy. 😩 I’m NOT prepared for the angst that’ll follow this next chapter…

Anyways, I loved this chapter so much! I feel like I’ve already rambled enough, so I’ll leave my thoughts with that. You’re a fantastic writer, Dana!! Can’t wait to read the next one!

HIIII BESTIE AH THANK YOU FOR READINGGGG!!!! HOPE YOU AREN'T TOO EMO THAT IT IS OVER!!

IIIII really didn't expect this update to be so long!! I didn't mean for the paranormal investigation scene to go on for as many words, but with that added scene of Jeongguk explaining his tattoo and then the Yoonjin snuggle I couldn't stop!! But thank you love-- I guess the one blessing of being an unemployed lump is ample time to write 💀 You're the absolute sweetest, I can't 😭 My week has been made by you 💜💜💜

OOF Not that I'm glad that you felt like you were claustrophobic during the ghost scene, but I lowkey am 💀 That's the vibe I was going for, the shadows pressing down on you!

Ohhhh my Angel. The past two chapters (Seokjin-centric, which I also love) have me desperately missing him! I thought it was time to dive into his past a little bit, especially because he trusts Y/N completely by now. Despite his mother's flaws, Yoongi still adored her, and she did try her best to be a good mother. Eventually, when I get to Yoongi's prequel, we'll find out more about their interesting relationship!

HA BEAR WITH ME! PUNNY! Tae is operating off of what I like to call Capricorn Spite. and probably jealousy and confusion. Considering he was very clearly into Y/N (despite her realizing that) it seems he's trying to either distract or distance himself :( And while he IS very shy, he has been sort of overcoming that personality trait, and I think the photography class (him getting to express himself) has brought him out of his shell and realizing his potential to grow as a person. Ah. Def more angst to follow but keep in mind this story plans to have a happy ole ot7 ending (when I'm like eighty at this point 💀)

AHHHH but thank you so so much for your love and for reading AND for sending in your thoughts bestie 🥺💕 I love you so much and can't wait to update again in June when Jinnie is back!!!

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Most holiest of holies, the first pick Aeon threw in the beginning of the Ritual (three or four songs in). It bounced right off my palm but my friend found it and gave it to me. I blew him so many kisses and he caught them and blew some back. Swoon.

Does anyone else who caught one have the urge to just. Hold the pick in their mouth. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt this way before. I have to eat it but I can't. Maybe....maybe just a lick?

Everything I can remember about last night under the cut. (No pictures, head too empty) I could not be any happier with my experience and it was worth everything for the memories alone. I can not stress how much this community means to me. You are all wonderful people.

Enough sentimentality! Ghoul shenanigans ahoy!

-Cirrus, respectfully, is caked up so much more in person. God damn. As a feminist I don't want to objectify women. However, as an average horny Ghost fan,

-Rain staring at Aeon doing the flamingo leg and Aeon missing it completely :( (This gave me a fic idea...)

-Rain "ptueying' his balaclava out multiple times. Stop wearing it so tight.

-Rain staring off into space touching his lips like he was just kissed. This actually made me go insane. He could have also been covering his mouth in an extremely delicate gasp but there was no reason to just keep. Tracing over his bottom lip like that.

-I blew him kisses as well and he blew some back, but in a slow way like he was copying me without knowing what it meant? Creature 🩵. (Also nearly got a pick from him but it didn't work out. Next time!)

-Rain cutting off Dew's solo whine bit and Dew listening??? Without throwing a fit??? Just standing there with his arms up while Rain presumably bitches about the noise hurting his head.

-Dew visibly smacking his lips together after papa insulted him, slow head turn in Papa's direction doing a "pahpahpah" under his balaclava. May have mouthed wow. I don't think he was saying Papa, it was too slow and I've done the exact same gesture a few times when someone says something dumb to me but I don't have the words to explain it!!!

- Aurora is JUST as horny as the boys and I need more cameras on her please. I beg. Cumulus was my first love but Aurora is a menace and I adore her.

-THE LIGHTS HITTING JUST RIGHT SO I COULD SEE AEON'S EYES THROUGH HIS MASK??? UNNERVING???? HE WINKED??? Nut. (Cannot emphasize it enough how fucked up it was to see his eyes. I could not stop staring, everything else didn't exist, it was love at first sight except really really weird.) (My hand is going to file a restraining order but can you blame me.)

-Swiss was vile. Arched his back real good when he laid down and kept rubbing the tip of his shaker. Tickling it, polishing it, whatever you want to call it. He full on groped himself at one point and did a nice slow couple pumps right at crotch level. When he collapsed on his stage, the people around me thought he was hurt. I knew better. I. KNEW. BETTER. Whore.

-Catching Mountain's drumstick (USED, SLIGHTLY SWEATY) but looking down and realizing the little girl (14) next to me had caught the bottom half with her dad. It was her first Ritual and I couldn't be so cruel. Aeon's pic was more than enough. (Besides, her dad looked like he could snap me in half.) (👀)

-Dew flashing the YouSuck sticker at us so we made blowjob motions. He turned around and skedaddled so fast I don't know if he actually saw it but the timing was hilarious.

-made heart hands and "raise the roof" motions for Cirrus which she copied. ALMOST caught a paper airplane setlist from her but it went right over my fingertips. She made heart hands and patted her chest like she was sorry. (Next time!!)

-Both Papa and Dew checking on a little boy (~8 if I had to guess) at barricade, making little "You good? You okay? Yeah? Having fun? Thumbs up?" Gestures at him.

Dew having a little sitty-sit off the end of the left..podium? Swinging his legs and throwing mummy dust. The spotlight was right in my eyes so I nearly went blind staring at him. (Worth it.)

-Papa Ciriceing in our general direction and scolding us for too many kisses being blown

-befriending someone with a dead phone and no way to contact her ride outside the venue. I ran to my car to grab my portable charger and we passed time yelling about Swiss. She made it back safe as well 🩵

-Everytime Aeon so much as twitched in my direction.