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insidemyrottenbrain · 8 months ago

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Henry gets jealous because you spend time with Richard

The risk of jealousy - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Dearest anonymous, I hope you can forgive him and his denial of jealousy.

The sharp claw of jealousy finally scratches the untouchable Henry.

I’ve always been incredibly particular about whom I associate with. The people around me need to be worthy. Now, I am well aware that my choice of words may make me sound arrogant, so allow me to explain: I want them to have shared interests, to be able to hold late-night debates on esoteric topics, while giving me a sense of belonging and consequently not tiring me out socially. I do not ask for much, really. Alas, one cannot always get what one desires.

The little group of which I’m currently a part of is… pleasant. The twins regularly host dinners which are, of course, the birthplace of many fights and arguments regarding the most trivial subjects that usually end up with Henry winning. Francis unhesitatingly puts his aunt’s house at our disposal whenever desiderium naturae strikes us and amusingly complains about some disease or other the whole way there. I even consider some of Bunny’s jokes witty on the rare occasions when he stops being insufferable. Unfortunately, they all give me a shallow sense of belonging that only manages to make itself felt in transit moments. However, Henry is different. With him, I feel content reading in silence after a long day, waking up in the same bed, legs intertwined under the soft cotton sheets he insists on buying with Apolon tugging at our lazy eyelids or simply challenging one another’s knowledge on whatever topic interests us at a given moment. A continuous childlike rendez-vous.

I do not know why I have been so platonically attracted to Richard of late. When he first joined our Greek class, he did not strike me as someone who would manage to integrate his lowly self into our complexly layered group, or even more, someone who would enjoy my presence. He was and still is flawed and ordinary. However, this normality flowing through every habit, every movement, or expression is a strange refresh in an intangible web of meticulously tangled appearances and facades. Richard is not some ancient scholar buried in paradoxical ideals, Gods-praising rituals, and glorious beliefs, but a modern human. He is aware of the current world, unisolated, present, an active participant. Not only does he attend parties but he also drinks, kisses, and loves strangers. Though an exaggeration to the unknowing eye, he seems to me quite the Epicurean in a cult of Stoics (excluding Bunny).

Despite my writings above which one might foolishly mistake as praise on my part, I must now dive into Richard’s own tendency to fictitiousness. He throws, here and there, long, lavish fabrications (with the aid of which he becomes unconsciously arrogant) and slight inexactitudes he considers too small to pass unnoticed by the attentive ear. And according to my fate and against my trusted intuition, I found myself unable to stop listening whenever he started talking about his (fake) childhood in California filled with swimming pools and orange groves and dissolute, charming show-biz parents, teenage years with a new girlfriend every night, the newest dramas (if they truly do exist and are not yet other fictions) circling Hampden.

There is a quirk. I notice it now, when we’re all standing in the day room of Francis’, or rather his aunt’s, manor. Charles is playing the piano filling the room with gifts for ears, showing off as he always does, while Bunny comments on one rhythm or another, challenging him, fueling him further. Everything is normal, except for one detail that does not escape me. Henry grows more agitated with every single one of Richard’s grant histoires. Albeit, the so-called agitations are rather minuscule, but I pride myself in being able to distinguish them. A small frown, creasing his pale forehead just the right amount for it to disappear just as quickly and nonchalantly as it came, a constant rub of his hand against his limped leg, and a novel proneness to small physical gestures: touching knees, pressing shoulders, his hand on the small of my back or idly playing with my fingers. I settle on questioning him later since I know he will not show any truths of his mind in such large company.

We share a room, since we stopped bothering to hide our relationship long ago from the others. Henry’s already in bed, his nose buried in a book, dressed in his pyjamas, his initials embroidered upon the left side of his chest; H.M.W. If I had been told years ago that I was to be sharing a bed or be in a relationship with the person I suffered the least, the one that I had to compete with in Julian’s classes, the one that knew how to push my buttons I would have died of agony. But now I’m content. I know of the infatuation rendering me blind. My life has become a continuous torture, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to live without him. Just like Zeus who vows to fulfil his promise with a single sacred nod of his head, so am I unable to change the basis of my passion. He is in all my plans. In all the joys the future holds. In the dead of night, in Julian’s lessons, in the summer by the lake, instead of my mind’s eye being fully focused on one specific task, it always switches without fail to him.

I lower myself onto the bed next to him. “You seemed troubled earlier, in the day room.” I ask casually an indirect question.

“You’ve been spending an awful time with Richard.” He responds swiftly, tonelessly, simply pointing out a fact.

I consider my answer for a moment. “I suppose so.” I hum, just as my head hits the pillow. “Don’t you find him intriguing? He watches the news on television.”

“Intriguing?” He blurts out, closing his book and putting it on the bedside table. Clearly, I have his attention. He turns on his side to fully face me, his hair falling over his forehead and slightly over his glasses. “His intriguing part eludes me. You are wasting your time with him, listening to his rambles.” He says clearly irritated, not bothering to keep up his stoic facade. “I assure you, you would be much better spending your time wisely.”

I frown. This is unusual of him. “He is in our class, is he not? I cannot avoid him.”

“Of course not, that’s not what I am suggesting.” His eyebrows remain furrowed. “What I do mean is that he does not bring you any benefit.” He continues in a monotone. “Why must you listen to him with the same attention and interest as you listen to me?”

Ah, I see. Henry is jealous.

“Is this jealousy?” I ask attempting desperately to restrain the slight smile forming on my face.

“You are mistaken.” He ‘corrects’ me sharply, raising his eyebrows. “I am merely stating that I see no point in your interactions with Richard when you could gain much more from being in my presence.”

I raise a sceptical eyebrow. He acts as if I wouldn’t mourn his death in the same way Achilles mourned Patroclus’, with rage and violence.

Words are imperfect communication devices, so I pull him down by the back of his neck and press my lips against his in a pleasant normality. I feel him slightly relax against me, his hand resting on my neck.

“Henry,” I mumble as we part, forcefully stretching our souls apart. I remove his glasses and place them down next to us and his forehead naturally falls against mine “you know better than to have such doubts.”

“I do.” He mumbles back, not bothering to deny his feelings anymore. “However, it proves to be quite difficult to not have them when-” He stops considering his words. “When you plague me so. There is no day or night in which your existence takes mercy on me and does not destroy the little rationality I have left.” He lowers himself down on the bed next to me. “You inexplicably and absurdly manage to be and eradicate my sanity.” He sighs. “And it certainly does not help when you look at Richard with the same eyes you look at me.” Henry mutters.

My hand finds his and I chuckle. “I’d argue I look at him with entirely different eyes.” At my comment, Henry raises an amused eyebrow. “Perhaps you’ll stop seeing shadows where there are none.”

That is all he needs to defeat his insomnia in my arms once again and to fall prey to sleep’s vicious grasp his body indistinguishable from mine under the sheets, sharing one breath.

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temis-de-leon · 3 months ago

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Look at you, looking at me

Characters: Lucifer x gn!reader

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Prompts used: Requited unrequited love + first date + stuck in close proximity

“Do I want to ask?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, actually”

A long sigh followed and all MC could do was hang their head in embarrassment and try their best to avoid the eldest brother’s hard stare. They could still feel its weight in their flesh and their bones, but it was better than looking straight at the Lucifer’s rage and irritation, especially when they were part of the cause.

Desperate for any type of distraction, they pushed the chair backwards and jumped out of the seat, although both had already explored the small space hours ago and none of them had found anything that could help in their escape.

The simulation had placed them in a study room, similar to those in libraries or colleges, with windows where the sunlight passed right through and a simple lockless door that they had been unable to open since the moment they got there. People could be heard walking by, but they spoke gibberish and didn’t seem to hear MC’s pleas or the demon’s threats and curses. In summary, the door wouldn’t break, the bookshelves didn’t have any hidden doors behind and the windows only had views of the sky; which meant that, even if they managed to open them, they would still have to jump straight into nothingness.

By all means, they were trapped together.

Unfortunately, MC knew perfectly well what needed to be done to get out.

“Am I to understand that you have a part in this, then?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement”

He fixed his eyes on them once again; they could tell by the way the room turned colder and their muscles stiffened. However, MC was unable to turn around and act normal, let alone lie and tell him to not worry about the situation.

“All I’m saying is that maybe we should keep looking for a way out” they insisted, bending down to inspect the spot at the door where the lock would be. “What if the answer has been staring at us all along?”

“We would’ve seen it already by now if that were the case” Lucifer said as he got up, walking towards them with a lazy stride. The drag of his shoes over the tiled floor gave MC goosebumps, but it was the low tone of his voice what anchored them to the ground. Unable to move and feeling ridiculous wearing the stereotypical Japanese high school uniform, MC did nothing as the Avatar of Pride crossed the small room in a few short steps and stopped right behind them. The warmth of his breath prickled their skin when he talked. “Whatever are you hiding, MC?”

“Hiding? Me?”

“I advise you to choose your next words carefully”

There was a slight edge to his words, but they knew he’d never truly hurt them. As threatening and scary as he could get, MC was completely sure they could trust him with their life. Now, at least. Those times when their heartbeat quickened out of fear and apprehension at the sight of him were long gone, although their heart still beat faster in his presence; just for completely different reasons.

It hadn’t been a sudden change but it felt like so for MC. One day they were tiptoeing around the house trying their best to avoid the door to Lucifer’s office and the next they were staring at themselves in the mirror for hours while carefully choosing an outfit for the day. Like a lovesick teenager, they blushed, stopped thinking and stammered with their own words, melting under the red hue of his gaze and jumping at the slightest of touches. Being around him in tight spaces was pure torture.

Lucifer, on his part, remained the same as always. Always unfazed, if not a bit more prone to teasing.

Digesting his uninterested expressions would be easier if their meaning wasn’t so brutal.

“Well” they started, coughing to ease the dryness in their throat. Lucifer placed a hand on their back and patted lightly, or at least tried to, because that only made MC jump again and get away unceremoniously. “We’re in Levi’s new game, obviously”

“Obviously” he repeated, sounding oddly plain.

“It’s not an escape room, since it’s not giving us any clues… It could have a narrative, but we haven’t seen any of that either. An RPG, point and click… but we don’t have a mouse to click with... do we click with our fingers?”

“MC”

“I mean, it could be an RPG, since we’re dressed as students…”

“MC”

“What do you think we need to do? Pass a test?”

“MC”

A deadly tone. One last chance to come clean.

What were they trying anyway? They knew what had to be done and he knew they knew. The only reason they were still in the simulation was because MC was too weak to accept reality.

Holding a breath, they turned around and briefly looked at Lucifer’s enraged gaze. Part of them expected him to be frowning or even in his demon form, but that wasn’t the case. On the contrary, he was smiling; eyes half closed as he studied MC with sickening interest and a twisted smirk. Somehow, he still carried an overwhelming presence, even with the juvenile clothes and the warmth of the fake sun right behind him, and MC became silent in embarrassment when they realized that, not only they weren’t scared, they were titillated.

“The truth, now. If you please”

It was obvious by the last addition that it wasn’t a suggestion.

Defeated, MC threw their arms in the air and laughed with nervousness as every little piece of control they could’ve had over the situation slipped away. Lucifer’s features relaxed ever so slightly.

“They heard I wanted to take you out for breakfast!”

Which sounded ridiculous.

MC meant the brothers, of course. Who else would spy on them without remorse? What had started as a private confession practice in their room had ended in a family reunion minus the eldest plus Solomon (Why not? Why wouldn’t the sorcerer be there?). For hours they had all listened to their ramblings with eager smiles, like pure sociopaths, probably thinking of ways of screwing Lucifer over instead of trying to help their dear friend get with their brother. By the end of the night, only Asmo and Levi had shown genuine interest in MC’s love life.

And look how it ended.

There was still sunlight in the study room, but MC felt no heat when they placed a hand under the rays, and while they were both silent, the voices outside didn’t sound louder. It was all fake and steady and would remain so until MC decided a change was due.

“You wanted to take me out?” Lucifer said in an indecipherable tone, although he sounded calm. “May I ask for what purpose?”

If there was a moment to open their heart, that would be it.

I’m in love with you and I thought a public setting would help me stay cool.

I can’t keep living with you acting like you don’t matter to me.

Looking at you makes my heart hurt.

Which would be the best?

Back at the desk, the cootie catcher stared right at them, colourful fold wide open to show the letters that had started the whole thing.

TELL HIM <3

“It was an appreciation gift” they eventually murmured, still reticent to let it all out. “For being a good friend”

Behind them, Lucifer hummed in acknowledgement. It sounded as if he was calling them a liar, although that might’ve been because MC felt like one.

“I didn’t want it to get so out of proportion… I’m sorry”

He hummed again before chuckling.

“Leave it to my idiotic brothers to make any course of action unbearable”

His words eased the tension in the room, but MC didn’t feel any better. There was still a tight knot in their stomach and a wave of nausea rushing to take control of their body.

“I do not get what that has to do with Levi’s game, though…”

“It’s a dating simulator” they interrupted him with a heated face.

Unable to stay calm anymore and keep the charade much longer, MC finally let themselves fall on the wooden chair and look at him with great embarrassment. The surprise on his face was noticeable, but it was partially covered by his familiar alluring smile. The mixed expressions made their blood tingle with excitement.

“And I understand we haven’t increased our intimacy points; am I correct?”

His stride was composed, sure on its way to MC until their shoes were touching and it had to stop. The warmth emanating from him was welcoming and it kept them anchored to the uncomfortably hard chair. He was amused, they could tell, but there was no ill intent; behind the sadistic tilt in his smile, MC could see a childish eagerness and a faint blush.

Slowly, his naked hand left his hip to trace the curves of their jaw, red fingernails softly scratching the skin before cupping their whole face with gentleness.

The whole simulation could’ve crushed and MC would’ve been none the wiser.

Not that they cared.

“I accept your invitation” he ended up saying, voice low enough to reach the depths of MC’s heart and alter its rhythm. He frowned for a moment. “Not as a friend, though”

His fingers traced the shape of their lips, touch slowing down as he leaned over them.

“I would never love you as a friend”

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theunsinkableship1 · 1 month ago

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CRAZY ABOUT THEIR LOVE

"There's love there" dixit Nicola.

Yesterday, Nicola received a BAFTA nomination for her work in Big Mood, which has been renewed for a second season. She is a talented actress with a good heart and an agreeable personality. I hope that she’ll win and if she doesn’t it’s ok. Whether she wins or not, there are likely more opportunities ahead for her to achieve further successes. There have also been discussions regarding her private life, which is unfortunate on a day that marks a significant milestone in her career.

Was it unfortunate? Yes! Unexpected? No!

Her talent and beauty are widely recognized, but much of the interest in her online is centered around her private life. She may not be comfortable with this aspect of her popularity, and public figures often have limited control over how they are perceived. I’ve never been a real fan of a person before and certainly not to the point of knowing as much as I know now about lukola. The fact is that I’m just a casual fan of both actors and normally I wouldn’t follow their activities that closely and wouldn’t be much interested in their private lives, this why I restate that I will not follow their other relationships as I am not fully aware of the dynamics or background information necessary to form a conclusive opinion and what has transpired to this day isn’t appealing to me and to be fair can’t really be because we don’t have years of interactions and the deep dive with world tour like background knowledge .

Luke and Nicola have already recognized that a significant part of their public appeal stems from their dynamic together. This could be one of the reasons why they’re creating distance, whether for personal reasons, professional positioning, or external pressures.

By stepping back, they control the narrative, preventing their careers from being overshadowed by speculation. It allows them to establish individual identities beyond their joint appeal, ensuring their work is taken seriously on its own merit.

It could also be a missed opportunity , their bond is a force that transcends standard co-star dynamics. Instead of resisting it, embracing their unique impact could elevate their legacy beyond just a TV show. Some connections aren’t meant to be hidden; they become cultural moments that inspire, move, and even change people’s perspectives on love and human connection.

Ultimately, while they may try to control the perception of their relationship, the way the world receives and resonates with them is beyond their control. And perhaps, that’s not something to fight, but something to embrace.

Yesterday, someone, not a close friend called me crazy because I asked them to listen to a Lukola clip I had posted on my Tumblr. Some people could hear what I was pointing out, while others couldn’t, even after I boosted the audio to make it clearer. My immediate test some of my audience couldn’t hear anything, and one person went so far as to call me crazy. I didn’t appreciate it and struggled to understand why they were unable to hear it. Was I really imagining things? Was there truly nothing there?

The answer is simple: No, I wasn’t imagining things. And yes, there is something there.

Human perception is far from uniform, especially when it comes to hearing. Just as some people have sharper eyesight or better spatial awareness, hearing ability varies greatly from person to person. Factors like age, frequency sensitivity, past exposure to loud sounds, and even genetic predisposition affect how we process audio.

In my case, I didn’t just rely on my own ears. I took the clip, and had it analyzed through audio spectrum tools that visually display sound frequencies. The analysis confirmed that the frequencies of the words were indeed present in the audio file, proving that I wasn’t "hearing voices" or imagining things. AI tools, interestingly, also struggled to transcribe certain parts, just as some humans did. This is similar to the well-known "blue and gold dress" phenomenon, where different people perceived the same visual input in vastly different ways. Just as with color perception, auditory perception can differ dramatically based on how an individual's brain processes sound.

This extends beyond just hearing. In general, people interpret reality based on personal biases, past experiences, and even subconscious conditioning. Some are more attuned to body language, micro-expressions, and emotional undercurrents, while others need more explicit confirmation to recognize what’s right in front of them.

In the case of Lukola, shippers often see and feel something an energy that transcends mere friendship. Yet skeptics, for various reasons, might dismiss these same moments, either because they aren’t looking closely enough, don’t want to see it, or simply don’t have the intuitive ability to pick up on subtle dynamics.

If Lukola were just a projection of wishful thinking, then why does the same pattern of interactions, glances, physical closeness, and emotional depth consistently appear? Why do so many unrelated observers, across different cultures, backgrounds, and levels of analytical skill, pick up on the same chemistry? And why does every attempt to disprove Lukola rely on external factors rather than what’s actually happening between Luke and Nicola?

Lukola possesses unique and exceptional qualities. Their interactions, reactions, and ability to reconnect despite adverse circumstances defy conventional understanding. It is not possible to simulate the level of ease, tension, or emotional resonance they exhibit. For those who can observe and interpret the details, the patterns become unmistakable.

So no, I’m not crazy. And neither are the countless others who perceive what’s right there in front of us. Some may not hear it. Some may not see it. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Luke and Nicola's dynamic appears to go beyond a typical co-star relationship. This level of interest is absolutely unusual for me, and others in the Lukola community have reported similar feelings of attachment to their bond. Whether this relationship is romantic, deeply intimate, or something else, it seems to resonate strongly with many observers. The reasons behind this strong resonance remain unclear.

Humans are wired to seek patterns, to make sense of connections that may not be immediately obvious. Lukola shippers aren’t just indulging in wishful thinking; many of us sense undeniable chemistry, subtle moments of tension, and contradictions in their public narrative. This sparks an instinct to analyze, to decode, to uncover something that doesn’t quite fit into the "just friends" framework.

Additionally, the longer one observes and collects evidence, whether it’s body language, micro expressions, or the apparent shifts in behavior when they are together, the deeper the emotional investment grows. The brain seeks to validate what it already suspects, reinforcing the belief that there is something real happening beneath the surface.

For many, the draw toward Lukola feels intuitive. There is a gut feeling, an unshakable certainty that their bond holds more meaning than what is publicly acknowledged. Some might describe it as an energetic connection, a frequency that people unconsciously pick up on.

Carl Jung’s concept of the collective unconscious suggests that groups of people can tap into hidden truths before they become widely accepted. Could it be that Lukola shippers are picking up on an unspoken reality that the world hasn’t fully acknowledged yet? It would explain why so many independent observers arrive at the same conclusion despite official narratives trying to steer them away.

There’s also the idea of twin flames or fated connections, relationships that seem destined, even if obstacles stand in the way. Many Lukola supporters believe that what they see in Luke and Nicola is more than just friendly affection; it’s the kind of deep bond that challenges both people involved.

Lukola stands out in today's media for its authenticity, countering the trend of PR-driven relationships and polished celebrity personas. People crave something genuine and unique. Their potential is intoxicating.

There’s also a subconscious rebellion at play. The media tells us one thing, but the evidence and our instincts tell us another. Lukola shippers challenge mainstream narratives by trusting their own observations over curated publicity.

Here lies an interesting paradox: should we accept the public version of events while continuing to ship Lukola? The answer for me is yes because the two are not incompatible. If Luke and Nicola (or their teams) are actively presenting a certain narrative, it means they want us to believe it. Respecting that choice doesn’t mean we have to stop believing in what we’ve already seen and felt.

Lukola, in a way, is a submarine ship, it moves beneath the surface, unseen but always present. To the outside world, we might nod along, acknowledging what is being presented, but deep down, we stay steady in what we know. The Three Wise Monkeys philosophy applies here: see no truth, hear no truth, speak no truth…until it is time.

Despite external narratives, Lukola remains afloat. Luke and Nicola are the ones who can steer it into harbor, let it drift, or sink it, and they have kept it sailing so far. Watching Lukola sometimes feels like you're in a theater, being trapped and forced to watch a mix of romantic comedy and a horror movie, where you want to yell—_ “Don’t go there! Stay safe!” _—but you’re just a spectator. It’s not your story to steer or your choices to make. You can only watch, hope, and brace for what comes next.

#lukola #lukolaland

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king-casino · 2 months ago

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We're all over 18, but we were blessed to have a mother that understands us and our struggles. Unfortunately, my mom is physically disabled and can't have a normal job. She already works about 12 hours or more almost every day, and we're still struggling. We don't have medical insurance, which means we have to pay for ALL our medication out of pocket. My mom has an entire bucket full of meds she needs, which she hasn't even been refilling for a while now, since she cares more about me and my siblings getting the meds we need.

My siblings take antidepressants and sleep meds, but i also have a bucket full of meds i need, since I'm physically disabled. It's another reason why I'm struggling so hard to find work. I can't just get an easy starter job, since almost all of them require physical labor or standing on my feet all day. I have chronic pain and fatigue, and muscle atrophy.

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weirdmageddon · 10 months ago

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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

#homestuck #aradia megido #john egbert #johnradia #arajohn #homestuck analysis #socionics #mine

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owiil · 2 months ago

Note

Sterek prompt: birthday surprise!

“No.”

“You can’t just say ‘no.’ Besides—” Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes. “—if you didn’t actually want him, you would have said something.”

Derek stared at him for a long handful of moments. Blinked. Continued starting. “I would have said— Stiles. This. I opened the door and you literally said ‘surprise.’ For what part of a surprise am I supposed to tell you, in advance, that I don’t want it?”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed in an attempt to read Derek’s face better, to see if there was some lingering hint of an expression other that exasperated… disappointment? Irritation? Whatever was accompanying the exasperation wasn’t positive. And, unfortunately, it didn’t look like there were any secrete messages lingering in Derek’s eyebrows or any other part of his face.

He snorted. “You have werewolf hearing Derek. I’ve been actively working toward this for three months.” Twisting, he gestured emphatically at the living room, which now, aside from Derek’s normal living room furniture (and the couch that Stiles will always say is his since he picked it out), there was an empty pet crate on the floor and a rather cozy looking orange cat curled on the middle cushion of said couch. "You really expect me to believe that you didn’t overhear what I was doing? I mean, come on. I was zero percent expecting this to be an actual surprise. How are you surprised?”

At that, Derek looked… lost, almost. Caught off guard by the undeniable truth of Stiles’ argument. After a moment, his jaw went square and his brow furrowed. “You spelled yourself.”

Stiles snorted, again, louder, more derisive. “No.”

A moment passed between them during which the only sound came from Clive’s monstrously loud purring from across the room—which, Stiles hadn’t gotten the cat because his name was Clive, but… honestly, hilarious. No. No... Clive had been a scalpel sharp application of an accumulated full year of research into both Derek and cats.

“I’ve literally been asking you about pets.”

“That was a year ago,” Derek said, immediately, because clearly he was catching on, knew Stiles well enough to know that, at this point, despite all appearances, the appearance of Clive in his home at six PM on a Wednesday was not, in fact, spontaneous.

“I got you to sign up as a shelter volunteer with me.”

“Last summer,” Derek said, also immediately, but less confident, and Stiles knew what was happening, knew he was starting to collect all of the pieces, put them all together.

“I mean, I said ‘surprise’ when you walked in— Also, Derek, why… Please tell me you didn’t not hear two heart beats? What is wrong with you?”

“I—” Derek said, the words choking in his mouth but the flush blossoming over the tips of his ears giving him away better than anything else could have and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh. My. God!” He laughed some more while taking a step forward and sliding into Derek’s space. “You were thinking about birthday sex. You were so distracted by the thought of bending me in half like a… I don’t even know, bendy straw—”

Derek’s brow pinched as he looked away—to the side and up, as though praying to someone or something, anything.

“—you didn’t even notice there was another heart in your own house. I don’t know if I should be flattered or mortified for my own safety.”

Derek’s eyes rolled and took their sweet time drifting back to him, his lips pressed into a fine line. “You are the last person I need to worry about the safety of these days. At this point, I’m more of a damsel than you are.”

Unable to help from grinning, Stiles shrugged, preening as he continued to lean even further into Derek’s space. “I mean, you’re not necessarily wrong. And while I’m very happy that we’re at a point in our lives now where the biggest drama of the week is the fact that you, adorably, think you are not keeping Clive—”

“Clive,” Derek sighed, like it was curse or, perhaps, the most ridiculous word to leave his mouth.

“—Clive,” Stiles repeated, raising his hands and pressing them to Derek’s chest, massaging his fingers against Derek’s pectorals. “—I do get a little sad that I don’t get the opportunity to treat you like the pretty princess you are.”

Despite looking thoroughly put out and begrudged, warm hands settled on Stiles’ ass. “You did save me plenty in high school.”

“Never got to carry you princess style,” Stiles lamented.

And then, finally, the corners of Derek’s lips twitched and he laughed. A soft huff of a thing, but a laugh nonetheless and more than enough to break the utter sourness that had been his expression since the moment he walked into the room. “You think you could now?”

Stiles shrugged. “Give me three weeks to do some charting and scrounge up the money for another tattoo and I’m sure I could inject some super strength into my body that would last long enough to traipse you around beautifully.”

Rolling his eyes, again, Derek leaned forward and pressed his smile and his face into the junction of Stiles’ neck. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable, and the biggest reason you’re mad at Clive is that you probably think that him being on the couch means that you have to do something cat dad-ish right now instead of screwing me literally anywhere else except the couch. Except you don’t, because I already moved all of his things into the coat closet and he’s fed and watered and ten years old so all he’s going to do is sit around and sleep while you both take naps in the sun.”

He tilted his head as he spoke, giving Derek more access to rub his stubble against him until the skin turned red and became sensitive, just to stop before it could become borderline painful and start kissing. “I’m not into voyeurism.”

Stiles laughed, loud and bright, hands sliding down Derek’s chest to hook in the belt loops of his pants. “Oh my god, Derek. It’s a cat, not Scott.” Just to gasp and cackle when, with an indifferent hum, Derek hooked his hands around the backs of Stiles’ thighs and hauled him up over his shoulder. “Wait. Wait!”

Obediently, Derek waited, standing still, fingers tapping an impatient tempo against the backs of Stiles’ legs. “What?”

“Close the door. Clive’s never been outside and he’s far too old and too precious to be let roam around.”

Heaving a put upon sigh, Derek turned around and closed the door. “I knew you would love him.”

Derek snorted. “I love you. I’ll tolerate Clive.”

“You’re going to be a great cat dad,” Stiles said with a laugh that cut off with a soft grunt when Derek slapped his ass hard enough to sting—the good kind that went straight to his dick. “Come on. Get me behind a door before Clive sees something he shouldn’t.”

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #fanfic: mine #sterek prompt fill #my tumblr fics

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writingcrustacean · 1 year ago

Text

Kinda Cute

Pairings: Ace x Reader, Zoro x Reader

Content: Fluff. Gender neutral reader in mind.

Note: Am I making my first post- as in, first ever Tumblr post- a total shit shot? Yes, yes I am. Did I edit or review these at all? No, no I did not. But that's fiiiiiine. I haven't written much of anything in years, okay? It's just, these two boys just have me in a chokehold, and I love them. I promise I'm actually good at this shit, it's just 2:30 am and, again, haven't written in ages. So if it's bad and you read this, that's on you. Not me. Deal? Deal.

Zoro;

“Kinda cute.”

Those words were on repeat in his head, bouncing from wall to wall, echoing and silencing any other thought that could have existed. He had just woken up from one of many naps when you said those words to him the first time. His eye met yours, confirming that it was indeed meant for him. A slight upwards tilt to your lips and a sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck.

A rapid, onset blush kissed his tanned skin as he found himself unable to look away. You were quick to take it in, your smirk growing. You were teasing him, had to be.

It had been days since you first spoke those words to him, and you found every chance to repeat them- any chance to see his blush, truly. Your infatuation growing day by day, blush by blush. It was unfair, really. You were so smooth with your flirtations, so comfortable with turning Zoro into a stuttering mess. Normally so composed and in control, two words were enough to break him. He almost had enough of it, enough of the torture. But he couldn't deny it- he loved your attention. Secretly craved it, secretly wanted more. So much more. And he was about ready to go for it. If you could so easily make your interest known, so could he. Easy.

Right?

“I- d’you?” His face was hot, so hot. His mind was going blank, looking into your gaze.

You took a step closer, brows knitted together. The back of your hand gently met his forehead, an attempt at checking his temperature. “Ya okay, Zoro? Your fac-”

You were unceremoniously cut off as the swordsman slammed his lips against yours, his eye scrunched close. You could have giggled, would have, if he hadn't pulled you so close. And the electricity that shot through your body had both mind and body going numb. Your stiff shoulders and rigid posture caught his attention, a flicker of uncertainty and panic surging through his core. Fuck, he fucked up. Misread your teasing as flirting, thought you were dropping signals you weren't. He felt so stupid.

Slowly, you raised your hands. One on the side of his face, the other on his shoulder. His roughness met with a softness he hadn't expected, both blushes intensifying.

Ace;

The squeal slipped past your lips, loud laughter shortly following. Soft, warm fingers left feather touches along your sides. Up and down, up and down. His touch taunted you, tickled you.

Minutes ago you were sleeping so peacefully, relaxed and warm in the arms of your lover. And at first, you barely noticed his touches, softly caressing any inch of skin he had access to. But then his hands ran along your sides, snapping into reality at that ever familiar sensation. The chuckle from behind you confirmed it was on purpose. You would have turned to look at him until he did it again. And again. You quickly decided rolling away was the better option, meeting the floor with a rather solid ��thunk” as you let out a loud huff. “Ace!” You whined up at him, pout ever evident in the tone of your voice- a failed attempt at hiding your amusement.

His freckles, black eyes and hair were soon hovering over the edge of the bed. His wild grin lit up his face as he drank in your appearance. Lips in a pout, eyes wide and glistening. “Heh, kinda cute.”

You exaggerated your eye roll, yet your lips began to curl into a grin at the compliment. As much as you hated admitting it, you wouldn't mind being woken up like that any day of the week. So long as it was him, with his warm smile and loving gaze. Unfortunately for you, he knew that. Knew just what effect he had on you and how hard it was for you to be mad at him.

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #portgas d ace #zoro x reader #ace x reader

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cottonlemonade · 1 year ago

Text

Making Up After A Fight

word count: 756 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst with happy ending

warnings: none, just Oikawa being hard on himself and insecure

Oikawa hates fighting as much as you do.

But sometimes it was inevitable. His training schedule had been crazy, the coach had scolded him for putting too much pressure on his bad knee and he was frustrated with himself for delivering, as he thought, disappointing performances on the court lately.

And unfortunately, you were the best girlfriend through all of this. Something he should be happy about, but like many times before it just made him realize that he didn't deserve you.

He couldn't give you the time he wanted. He wished more than anything that you would just tell him how disappointed you were in the relationship and in him, for not being good enough, there enough, doting enough - he hated it. He hated every second, because he knew that when he got to his phone at the end of training, a sweet and loving message would wait for him, saying that you missed him. You would have maybe sent a picture of something cute that reminded you of him during your day or suggested something to do together on his next day off. It was infuriating that you never blamed him for not being the boyfriend he should be.

So it came as no surprise that one night after practice, when he was over at your place, he snapped. He just arrived, took off his shoes and smelled the lovely home cooked meal that was simmering on the stove. You came to greet him, smiling tiredly but genuinely happy to see him and he couldn't take it anymore. He started yelling and gesturing, asking you why you even bothered with him, told you how you weren't right for him, that you made him feel like garbage, turned on his heels, grabbed his shoes and left.

You stood in the doorway of your kitchen, not knowing, not understanding what had just happened but you also knew that he had never yelled at you before. Ever. Sure you'd seen him frustrated and stressed but even then his outbursts were never directed at you. Not like this.

Tears started to fill your eyes. You grabbed your phone, wanting to call him, had already one arm in your jacket to go after him, but decided against it.

The phone in your hand buzzed but it was only a text from your friend asking about your day. You typed a nondescript reply, not wanting them to worry and promised to call tomorrow.

Now only silence filled your apartment. Silence and the taunting smell of an untouched dinner.

You paced a while up and down your living room, throwing tentative glances through your window to see if you could maybe spot him on the dark street below. But nothing.

You started several messages to Tooru but deleted them before hitting send - none of them sounded right.

Not knowing what else to do, you put the now cold dinner into the fridge, took a shower and headed to bed, unable to stop more tears rolling onto the pillow.

You heard the front door unlock at around 1 am, but didn't know if you just imagined it in your half sleep state.

A soft knock came from your bedroom door. You weren’t exactly in the mood to talk, so you stayed quiet. Another soft knock and the door opened slowly. For the longest moment Oikawa just stood in the doorway, looking at your, he assumed, sleeping form.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and then shrugged off his jacket to sit on the bed. Slowly, carefully, he laid down behind you, moving closer to wrap his arm around your soft waist.

"Are you awake?", he murmured.

You shifted slightly to show him you were.

"I'm really sorry.", he whispered gingerly into the crook of your neck, "You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise. It's just with the training and my screw ups at the last match and you have been so great about it all and-"

You heard his throat closing up as he nuzzled closer to you, "I really don't know how you put up with it. I'm never around, I never have time to do normal couple stuff, I mess up your sleep schedule and you never complain. I feel horrible."

You finally turn around to face him. "Well, I am mad at you now, if that makes you feel better."

He had to chuckle through his tears and bit his lip, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. "I love you, darling."

You snuggled into his chest and entwined your fingers with his. "I love you, too."

#oikawa x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #oikawa fluff #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader

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39nyx · 2 months ago

Text

"Winter Soldier" Nico di Angelo AU concept

pretty freshly thought up, definitely still needs brewing.

also because i'm a couple MCU movies away from actually watching CA:TWS which will definitely help me flesh this out LMFAO. I've read The Winter Soldier: Cold Front at least, I'm not totally going off nothing

I've had a semi-similar AU brewing in my head for, like, a year before I started getting into Marvel and realized it lowkey matched MCU Stucky's dynamic, so I decided to fully embrace the coincidence and give Nico more trauma and a fucked-up arm :D

Background:

Nico actually ends up fading into shadows during the events of Blood of Olympus/excessive shadow-travel.

Since he hadn't died traditionally, he's essentially locked out of his father's realm of power, unable to have his soul return to the Underworld, instead being lost to the darkness.

That is, if not for Nyx* (or someone under her authority) who manages to collect the remnants of his being and reconstitute his physical form.

Except, there's not enough of him left to reform his entire body, so they have to sacrifice his arm, creating a new, magical one out of bones and shadow (details in image)

With the memories of his life lost to the shadows, he now serves as Nyx's own "Child of Darkness" (or something), his body/soul now bound to her.

*I do, unfortunately, kind of hate The Sun and the Star, but it had the perfect concept to draw on for this, what with Nyx being a big bad and wanting Nico to stay in the darkness and all that. So that's kind of what I'm drawing on for this :'D but the book itself isn't canon to this AU's timeline

Since Nico's body is now reformed from the shadows, he can shadow travel with no repercussions ! He gains a lot more control over shadows/darkness in general, as he's working under Nyx.

I'd also imagine, with his memories gone and Nyx making him believe he's fully her child (or something along those lines), he doesn't actually know he has most of his Hades-kid-specific powers (geokinesis, necromancy, and the like. He doesn't think too hard about why he's able to control the bones in his shadow arm. Or he does, and he just gets reset-) Of course, he still has the subconscious effects of his powers, but his emotions usually aren't dysregulated enough for him to actually experience them. (you know... until they are...~drama~)

As far as further plot goes, I'm personally a Jasico shipper, this was originally a Jasico AU for me, and Jason also makes the most sense, uh, assassination-mission wise (and Steve Rogers parallel-wise lol). With some canon-tweaking.

Why does Nyx even want Nico to kill the main big threat demigods? Idk yet exactly! We'll get there! In a perfect world I would be able to turn this into a novel-length fanfiction but god am I bad at actually going through with projects. There will definitely at least be more of this random concept brainstorming, though, especially when I finish more of the movies >:3

Alsooo regarding his design, it was mostly to brainstorm his arm. I probably could've thought of something creative outfit-wise. But it's the PJO universe, it's not like I can really have him decked out Winter Soldier style, pretty much all anyone wears is an orange/purple T-shirt n jeans. Maybe some armor. Which I theoretically should have given him. But there's the angle of him being able to dissolve into shadows before you can even get a hit in, thus rendering armor unnecessary... and also the idea of him blending in as a normal person until you do a double-take and see shadows creeping up his neck, slowly growing to cover his face before he attacks. Possibilities! Mostly I just like Nico in the usual oversized jacket + skinny jeans, but I gotta think on this whole thing a lot more still LOL

#thanks for indulging me in this thing i randomly cooked up at midnight #pjo #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #riordanverse #jasico #winter soldier #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #captain america the winter soldier #captain america #nyx draws

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reiddacted · 25 days ago

Text

angels and cowboys

part 1/?

word count- 3045 warnings- talks of a body/corpse summary- you find a body, you don't know what to do, the fbi is called, things just suck.

“I can normally tell how intelligent a man is by how stupid he thinks I am.” Cormac McCarthy

Three days ago, you found a body. Face down and nude, covered in mud and nearly hidden within the earth. It could’ve been missed. You stared at it for ten minutes unblinking, your mind unable to fully understand what it was that you were seeing. When the realization that what you were seeing was real finally sunk in, you found yourself unsure what to do. Leaving it seemed cruel, and touching it was out of the question.

In the end, you left it alone, went home and then smoked a cigarette. It didn’t calm you down. You stared at the wall in your bedroom before swallowing heavily and trying to sleep. You didn’t. You couldn’t. You still stayed in bed until the sun rose.

Eventually you forced yourself out of bed. You smoked a cigarette in your kitchen as you called the sheriff with shaking fingers and an overwhelming nausea.

It was still there- still laying face down- when they came to collect it. You’re not sure if that's good or not.

The next day you didn’t think about it. You walked your property and did your work. You did not think about it. You found a broken fence. You did not think about it.

You see it in your dreams and pretend it didn’t make you wake up to throw up.

Today, you’re standing on your porch, looking down your driveway with a cigarette between your lips waiting for the goddamn FBI. Your eye twitches. The sheriff- Owen Mackens- is a man who can’t keep his hands steady to pull his gun out of its holster and is as meekly spoken as you can get when it comes to telling people news that he knows they’ll hate. Which is probably why he told you that whatever agents got sent, would probably need to stay with you and then promptly hung up before you could say a word back.

The more you think about it, the more you realize you’re going to strangle him when you see him.

You take another drag of the cigarette- the goddamn smoke burns now- and you keep staring down the driveway until you see two vehicles- a black SUV and Mackens’ old dingy patrol car- begin to make their way up your long dirt roadway. You sigh before flicking the cigarette off to the side of the porch and cross your arms over your chest.

Mackens parks a good few yards from the house, pulling off the side and under a few of the trees that you just could never bring yourself to cut. The SUV however, pulls up all the way to the house and you have to suppress a smile. You watch as it comes to halt and the engine is cut and then the doors are swinging open.

As the doors open, four people step out, three men and one woman. The smile you’re fighting becomes even harder to keep off your lips when you see how one of the men is wearing converse and has stepped in a puddle that has no doubt soaked into his socks. You watch as his face twists into something that looks like distress and disgust and it makes you feel a little better about everything.

The others do notice the unfortunate choice of parking but are much better at hiding their reactions. One of the men even elbows the converse wearer and says something that gets a glare back. The woman and the other man are the first to approach you. You keep your arms crossed, taking them in and finding the fact that the man is wearing sunglasses in low sixty-degree weather is another thing to be annoyed about.

The woman at least has a kind look about her. She’s also the only one wearing shoes that are even slightly appropriate so you might have a bias already. The agents stop at your steps, seemingly waiting to see if you’ll move down to greet them. You don’t move from your spot on the porch.

You just raise an eyebrow as you ask, “You the FBI agents I’m supposed to be housing?”

The woman at least has the decency to look away, seemingly a little ashamed.

The man just keeps his mouth set in a firm line, “In a way. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is SSA Emily Prentiss,” He looks behind him at the other agents still by the car, before looking back at you, “And SSA Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at the two agents he just introduced, “Neither of ‘em really scream ‘doctor’.” Your eyes fall on the man who had his shoes soaked, with limbs too long and awkward, like they grew too fast and he never got used to them. Your eyes narrow once again when you see the gun on his hip, clearly on display, “Can he even shoot that?”

Your voice must’ve been a little louder this time, because the two men turn towards you. One laughs, while the one resembling a snag looks away almost nervously.

“I promise all my agents can handle their weapons and Dr. Reid is no exception.” Hotchner says, voice cold and firm. It reminds you of a man you had once met in a bar. And then it reminds you of your father, “Would you mind if we come inside?”

There’s not much that you would mind more, but you glance down the driveway at Mackens and you can see that he looks scared. You just sigh, closing your eyes as you step to the side of the stairs. You look down at the agents and nod towards your house. “I’m assuming you can get the door on your own.”

Hotchner’s face does not change from that deep frown as he walks up to your front door. Prentiss follows behind, giving you a kind- but weak- smile. Morgan and Reid are quick to follow. Reid avoids your gaze by turning his head as he passes you. You watch as they all disappear into your house before turning to look at Mackens who is clutching his hat to his chest and a face that screams apologetic.

“Look, I’m sorry-” “I don’t like this, any of this.” You interrupt and Mackens looks down at the ground, “So understand, I’m going to let them do their jobs, but I’m not going to pretend I like any of them being here.”

You watch as Mackens nods his head, gaze still on the ground, “Understood.”

You roll your eyes and begin to move towards the door, stopping when your hand wraps around the doorknob, “And if they’re stayin’, I’m expecting some fucking help.”

You don’t wait to hear if Mackens even bothers responding before pulling the door open and stepping inside your home. You can see the agents moving in the kitchen and you glance down at the shoe rack, taking note of the fact that none are present. Your eyes travel to the floor and you feel heat rise to your face when you see the mud that is now tracked through the house. You take a deep breath, leaving your own boots on as you walk to the kitchen.

The agents are all standing up around the table, talking quietly. They go silent when they see you in the doorway. You can feel that your face is still red. You look at each one of them, before your eyes land on Hotchner and bite the inside of your mouth as you try to keep yourself from yelling.

“Don’t wear your shoes in my house again. Take them off at the door.”

Hotchner meets your gaze- his glasses now placed in his coat pocket. You watch as his bottom eyelids raise slightly. He nods slowly, “Moving forward, we’ll all keep that in mind.”

The front door opens and you can hear Mackens beginning to walk, pausing and continuing, his steps now slightly unsure. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s also kept his shoes on. You also know that he saw the lack of ones by the door and is now thrown off. His face confirms it when he comes into view at the kitchen doorway, looking down at your boots with confusion. When you catch his eye, he’s quick to look away.

There’s an awkward silence- one of your own doing a small voice nags at you- but you can’t bring yourself to try and make it better. This is the most people in your house in years, and none were invited. You can hear your mother’s voice telling you to offer coffee, to make the guests feel at home. You can hear your father’s voice begin to yell at her.

Your eyes move from each of the agents, taking them in and trying to get a feel for them as quickly as possible. They all seem to be trying to busy themselves, looking around your kitchen. Part of you wonders if there’s a reason, or if they’re just acting out the human urge to try and avoid something. Hotchner is looking at you. Or rather staring. He doesn’t seem to blink.

You hold his gaze and blink to see if anything changes. It doesn’t.

“S- So, the agents here- are here, excuse me- because, well, uh,” Mackens stumbles over his words and you already know his ears are growing red, “They just-”

“We just want to ask you a few questions.” Hotchner interrupts- Mackens breathes out heavily in relief- and his eyes don’t move from you. It’s been over a minute and he still hasn’t blinked, “Just so we can have a better understanding of what we need to start looking for.”

Your eyes narrow before darting over to Reid standing near the window, moving his head as if trying to see as much of the land as possible. You keep watching him as you ask, “Kind of an overreaction, ain’t it? Bringing the FBI out here for one body.”

Your stomach lurches as you say that. It’s cruel and awful to refer to them as a body. Your mother’s voice is stern as she tells you ‘That was someone’s baby’.

But you push her aside and instead focus on the fact that suddenly, everyone is glancing at one another. Prentiss’ eyebrow is raised as she looks at Morgan and he gives her a shrug. Hotchner looks at Mackens with an even deeper frown before looking at you. He finally blinks.

Reid keeps looking out the window.

There’s a feeling that begins crawling over your skin, making the hairs raise. You suppress a shiver and replace it with a small quick inhale through your nose. The feeling is overwhelming, one that makes you almost ill whenever it plagues you.

They know something you don’t.

“Have you been aware of why we’re here?” Hotchner asks, and this time his voice is different. Still firm and cold, but there’s an almost gentle way he’s approaching things now, “Why some of us might need to stay with you?”

You consider returning the gentle tone, maybe try and show that you don’t actually want to be difficult. But instead, you just gross your arms over your chest and spit out, “No, can’t say I’ve been made aware of anything. I got the phone call about you coming this mornin’.”

Hotchner tilts his head, looking at Mackens and for a moment you see a familiar kind of anger and then he’s looking back at you, “You are aware of the body found two days ago, correct?”

“Yes.” I found it, “I’m aware of it.”

“And you were not told about the previous ones found beforehand?”

You should be surprised. You should be shocked. There should be terror griping you at the idea of this not being a one time thing. And maybe if you were younger, or if you weren’t where you were, you would act correctly. Instead, you just hum around your guilt and remind yourself that they were all someone’s baby.

“No, I was not told about any others found.” Your voice is flat and it just makes you annoyed, “So, what? Our station got overwhelmed by three bodies?”

Hotchner scowls at you and you can see the gentleness starting to leave, and then you’re even more annoyed, “We were asked to help prevent another murder from happening.”

You glare at Mackens who just looks at you with a pleading look in his eye, “We don’t have the experience or manpower to handle this properly-”

“So you decided to send them?” You snap and Mackens flinches, “This is not my problem, nor did I ask to get involved. Why the hell are they in my home when you got a perfectly fine station, Mackens?”

“We’ll need to compose a geo-profile of our unsub’s comfort area of where all the bodies were found,” Ried interjects, turning away from the window to look at you. His hands are out in front of his body, making small gestures that he doesn’t seem to be aware of, “If we can find out where he likes to operate, we’ll have a better chance of actually catching him.”

You don’t even fight the glare that you shoot at Reid and he looks down at the ground as his hands sneak into his pockets, “Again, I don’t see why that has to be done in my home and not at the station.”

“We understand that you didn’t ask to be involved,” Hotchner says slowly, coldly. You kinda miss the gentle tone, “However we are asking for you to have a certain understanding as well. As of now, we have three dead women and probably more to come. And one of those women was found on your property. So, to actually make sure we don’t lose anyone else, we are asking you to cooperate with us.”

It’s a fair statement. It’s even reasonable. But there’s something that just makes you want to scream like a child because it doesn’t feel fair. However, before you can say anything else, Prentiss is suddenly speaking and suddenly it feels like the wind gets knocked out of you because she just sounds patient.

“The sooner we can catch this man, the sooner we’ll be gone.” Prentiss offers you something that is close to a smile, just not quite, “And if it helps… Only one of us will be staying here. We just can’t keep driving out here where we’re actively looking into other things, too much of the day will be eaten up.”

You look at her, really look at her. She’s almost familiar, in the same way the stranger you keep seeing at the grocery store is. A deep ache fills your chest and all the frustration and anger that was beginning to build within you just dies. It’s a sense of defeat that you don’t often feel. You let out a small sigh, looking away from Prentiss to turn your gaze back at Hotchner.

“Fine.” Your voice is still clipped and short, but it has less of an edge, “What do you want me to do?”

You can hear Mackens make a noise that sounds like relief again and you suppress an eyeroll. Hotchner stays silent, but his eyes narrow at you and you wish he would just say that he’s bothered. Morgan is the one to actually speak up after clearing his throat and stepping forward.

“Would you mind showing us where the body was found? Just walk us through that day.”

You frown, not too thrilled about the idea, “All of you?”

Morgan shakes his head, his eyebrows slightly raised as if trying to give a more open kind of expression, “No, just Reid and I.” You glance at Reid who hasn’t looked up from the floor. His hands are still in his pockets.

“Why only you two?”

“Prentiss and I are going to stay near the house and main road, Mackens will be with us.” Hotchner says simply, no room for argument.

Your eye twitches and you push down the comment that they could’ve just sent Morgan and Reid to begin with. And then you have to bite your tongue from mentioning the fact that you shouldn’t have to be involved with the investigation. But you know you’ve already been difficult enough, and the idea of continuing a conversation with Hotchner makes you exhausted.

So, you just nod, the frown on your lips only deepening as you motion at Morgan and Reid, “Alright… You two can follow me.”

You don’t wait before turning around and making your way to your front door. Muscle memory has you stopping to grab your shoes and you let out a frustrated sigh when you have to remind yourself your boots are still on your feet. You push the door open and hope the cold air will help keep your growing agitation down.

You can hear footsteps behind you and you don’t need to turn around to know it’s Morgan and Reid. You hate how your mind already knows their footsteps. You shove your hands into your coat pockets and begin to walk down the driveway, bypassing the SUVs that the agents had arrived in.

“Hey, are we not-”

You don’t even have to let Morgan finish talking to know what he’s about to ask and you interrupt without thinking, “We’ll walk along the road for about ten minutes and then have to cut back onto my property.” You keep walking, avoiding the puddles you know are much deeper than they appear, “There isn’t a road you can drive on.”

“Is that why the sheriffs had such a hard time retrieving it?” Reid asks, his voice almost energetic, curious.

It’s also why you had to see it again.

You swallow thickly and just nod your head as you reach the end of your driveway, “Yeah, not an easy spot to get to if you don’t know where you’re going.”

You step onto the main road, glancing behind yourself to look at Reid and Morgan. Your eyes glance down to their shoes, already caked in mud and grime. You raise an eyebrow at them before beginning to walk again.

“I’d suggest investing in some better shoes.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #angst #cowboy au #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

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bronze-bell · 2 months ago

Note

( @yellow-rose-embalmer )

If Aesop had not, perhaps, deposited that letter to nobody in the postbox so that Victor would have something to do, if Aesop had not written far too much while realizing too late he forgot to place his own name on the back after hastily crossing out Victor's own, maybe he would be a little more well-kept. But all of that has happened, all of the past is inescapable, and he cannot hide from it. Only wait for everything to crash down.

And how terrifying it is to wait.

He needed to write everything down anyway, and he would not be surprised if he burned his words once they returned to him. They just needed to be out, and what better way to move them apart from him than to write them and seal them away? He knows the dangers, yes. And if he made a grave mistake, if every bit of goodwill he has scraped together crumbles away, he can only say that it was inevitable. Anyone who found out would do the same. If convincing does not work... but that isn't enough this time, right? Not when death means nothing.

He hasn't bothered to put up his ponytail or get his mask on this morning, not after the sleepless night before. The letter has not been returned. He doesn't know what could be happening, and the terror, the possibility that he's destroyed it all, looms close behind him.

===

(The letter—or would it be better called a ramble, a confession?— is wrapped in a plain, sturdy envelope, such that he hopes it isn't anything that would stand out. Unfortunately, his handwriting is clearly recognizable as his own, rendering the whole point moot anyway. The envelope bears the first few letters of Victor's name, written several times and crossed out on all of them, but the lack of another addressee is notable. The text's shape and unsteady pace betrays the emotional tension in the writer.)

I'm sorry.

I don't even know what I'm sorry for. For going against that faith you had in me? For taking matters into my own hands and hoping you would never find out? For trying to relieve you of burdens but only trying and failing to soothe my own? You were already asleep, there was no need—

I came here to continue my duty. To free more people. But you were never truly free, you kept returning and I could only grow more ashamed, more unable to face you. If you did not have to wake up, if you were safe and never had to be afraid again... but it doesn't work like that. Not anymore. (I still would not leave you.)

Is it selfish that a part of me... doesn't want to succeed? That I want to have your warmth, your voice, all the things I can't preserve the way I can so much else? If you are comfortable, and happy, does it matter if it happens because you are finally at rest?

I know I have always been here to help. I know it is my duty to reach those meant to die, those who are in too much pain to keep going. (Even now, I wonder if I have reached those who need me the most.) But... I know that you wouldn't see it that way. Nobody does. Mr. Carl, too, knows that this mission is a solitary one. Being able to convince someone to let me guide them is ideal, yes, but... it has, in practice, been impossible. You would not be different, I'm sure. Even if I wish you were, if you ever found out that it was me bringing you to dreamless sleep all those times, I... I would understand if you wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Even as I wish to have your company, I have destroyed your trust, I am sure, and tried to bring you to the other side long before you were ready.

If you would allow me to ask this... please do not tell anyone. I do not know what would happen, and I am already... no, it's not worth thinking about. You will do what you decide is right, and who am I to decide what that is? I have hurt you, have I not? All I wanted to do was make things better for you, and yet...

Once again, I apologize. For everything.

Victor Grantz has been dying, recently. Not in matches, like normal, no. Outside of them, daring to close his tired eyes for a moment before waking up in his room, consumed by a blind panic of where am I what happened oh god— Are They back?? Nobody stole anything, right? Why did they let him revive in his room??

Safe to say, he was on extremely high alert after the first time it happened. But even if he wasn't, he's sure he'd have noticed the look on Aesop's face. The way Aesop wouldn't meet Victor's eyes at all. The way Aesop fiddled with his hands. The way Aesop was, very obviously, guilty.

Something clicks into place, then. So now the question becomes why. And, paranoid as he is, he can't trust it's actually Aesop.

Although, god, if anyone is killing him he hopes it's Aesop. As weird as that sounds. You see, there's no real reason for Victor to be dying. It'd be one thing if his bag was searched, another if his room was, but neither are true. He's made sure of it. (The keys are still in his pocket when he revives, and ordering the letters in a way only he knows leads to the order being perfect afterwards.) It's not torture either, he's certain it's not meant to be.

The only other reason for someone to kill him is... Concern. Worry about him neglecting himself, choosing to reset his body and take him straight to bed rather than argue with him about whether he's okay.

And that is why he hopes it's Aesop. Because that is absolutely something he might do, and it would make him much more at ease.

But he can't just ask Aesop if he's killing him. That likely wouldn't go down well, especially if Aesop isn't the murderer. So he experiments instead.

- - -

He'd pretended to be unconscious on the dining room table. Late enough he knew nobody would walk in on them, and close enough to both of their rooms that it'd give Aesop confidence to solve the mystery for him.

And, well... If the gloved hands and the click of the case didn't give it away, Aesop speaking, quiet and shaky through his mask, definitely did. Victor wills his pounding heart to stop beating so loud. Aesop will catch on to his ruse, surely...

Aesop does, in fact, catch on... Partially. Thank god, he didn't seem to realise what it meant. He asks about a nightmare, though seemingly remembering victor can't answer him. Victor is given reassurance that it'll be over soon, anyway.

He's given a lot of reassurance, actually.

A little scolding, though more concerned than anything else ["You really must take care of yourself better..."],

a few admissions of attachment ["if only you knew how much I care for you..."],

and many, many apologies.

Victor's heart starts to relax from it all, and he wonders if he might actually fall asleep here... before there's a sharp prick in his arm.

Cold floods through him, and it's too heavy to struggle. He falls unconscious within minutes.

He wakes up back in his bed. Nothing is out of order. Well, at least that's calmed most of his nerves...

[this goes on for weeks. Somehow, he finds himself more relaxed each time.]

= = =

The next unusual thing happens with the letter.

Victor would recognise the handwriting anywhere by now, especially when it's addressed to him. Sort of.

Even if he wasn't mildly addicted to reading and pretending people's letters were for him, he'd still itch to open that seal. There's absolutely no address, besides his own, half formed and shaky.

He can't be blamed if he doesn't know where to go, right? He's just being diligent, right? [He burns with curiosity, taking the letter into his room as subtly as he can, so he can pore over every detail.]

There is no name here, either. But what he does get is so much more... Fascinating, in a sense. It's a terrible thing, he knows, but he can't stop himself from being entranced at the pure emotion dripping off of Aesop's every word.

It's a secret. Just for him.

+ + +

If not for the subject matter he'd be feeling both sick and rather giddy at the chance. (At the moment he just feels the instinctual crawling nausea of something to hide from Them. He swats it away.)

It's funny, how mere weeks ago he thought Aesop was like Them, but it's even clearer now that he's not, and never will be. Victor doesn't see what Aesop does, but Aesop happens to have painted a very easy picture for Victor to see.

It's love, above all else. It's guilt, it's apology, it's longing, it's protection, it's caring. Victor understands Aesop better than anyone else, and this only proves it. He can connect with that emotion, hold it in his hands and press his face against it to feel the warmth.

Nobody else will understand. It's his secret to keep. But unfortunately for Victor's desire to stare at it for hours, this is still technically supposed to be delivered.

He puts the secret back in its envelope, not bothering to re-melt the wax like usual, locks up his room, and walks to Aesop's door. (If it had been back then, he would have been punished for not being punctual. But, they tended to give exceptions to unclear delivery instructions...)

× × ×

"Mr Carl?" He speaks quietly into the wood of the door. "Is this letter yours?"

It's selfish of him, but he can't wait for the reply.

#「 victor writes 💌」#identity v #identity v rp #identity v ask blog #idv

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ofeliaxoxo · 28 days ago

Note

i bought sooo much paulos stock during the ausgp here were my favorite moments:

1) that video where paul sees like a stray thread on carlos' hoodie somewhere near carlos' shoulder/neck and literally goes to tear it away with his hands and basically the whole time he's doing that charles and carlos are making flustered eye contact

2) paul mouthing the correct answers to carlos during the quiz thing, taking carlos' side in being like "carlos said the correct answer before charles did" (even though the slow mo replay showed that charles clearly said it first lmao), and messing with the rules in a few other small ways to give carlos the advantage over charlie

3) carlos not really paying enough attention at the beginning of the quiz and charles getting like 3 in a row which made paul basically tell carlos to lock in. and you know what? after paul told carlos to focus he Literally Did. it was insane to see (i mean i'm sure carlos was also thinking like "ok these media duties are still part of my job paul is right i need to like be more engaged" but still). (this is also one of the moments that reinforced my firm belief that like… if carlos the control freak is comfortable enough with someone…… he would actually enjoy being told what to do………………)

4) the blindfolded challenge where after paul was blindfolded carlos touched his arms and went "this is your left hand and this is your right hand" like? girl he knows? they haven't changed just because he's blindfolded?? lamest excuse to touch a boy everrrrrrr come on carlos you could've come up with something better than that !

anyway good to see my investment is still paying off in 2025. i thought it was so funny how obvious it was (or perhaps how obvious paul decided to make it) that he liked carlos more than charles. i honestly believe that if carlos had realized that he would've legitimately invited paul to a race this season like as his personal guest. unfortunately i'm not convinced that he realized even after paul literally helped him cheat to beat charles at a silly quiz (i feel like generally speaking especially outside of the f1 bubble people are always doing things like that for carlos in part because… well. as paul himself said carlos is A Very Pretty Boy !!)

Well first of all I am of course romantically in love with you. This was the first thing I saw in the morning and frankly an ideal start to my day. Now let’s discuss PAULOS.

That moment is so funny to me because not only does Carlos not really know what to do, CHARLES is like hello??? Can he do that? Like neither of them are sure how to proceed but they don’t like it. Powerless to stop him tho. Two pretty Barbie wide-eyed car men unable to deal with Paul’s boisterous man swag. Why are these literal athletes getting out-masculined by this aspiring hipster/actor. Any threesome between them is just Paul playing with his dolls

(If anyone has this clip please send it to me!)

The challenges video is so funny because you can see how lowkey stupid Paul thinks it is. Like he dgaf he thinks it’s strange he does not care if he and Charles win the remote control car thing. Hes gonna play along but he is not going to buy into it. Hes not from the bubble of f1 and hes like. Ok. He DOES however want Carlos to win😭 he’s like Carlosssss cmon get the answers right I know you can do this. Charles CANNOT know more about the Roman Empire than you!!

Also yeah literally it’s so clear he prefers Carlos. Why girl what did Charles do is he just not your type lmao. All that for a couple minutes long game video. He was down horrendous. This video also endears Charles to me because he’s the only one who actually gaf. Like he’s YELLING the answers he NEEDS to win the Roman Empire quiz. And normally Carlos would be on that level with him but here he’s by himself and it’s kind of sweet lol. Paul is like Carlos I NEED to fuck you carlos is like when will we be done w ts I need a coffee and Charles is like THERE WERE FEMALE GLADIATORS I KNOW IT!!! In my mind palace we can do a situation with this dynamic where Charles is desperately trying to pretend everything is normal while Paul undresses Carlos with his eyes. Hes like I do not give a fuck at all btw. Do NOT write down that I give a fuck because I don’t!!

My ultimate suspicion is that paulos is tragically doomed because I don’t think Carlos cared back😔 I think Paul left him unmoved. Even Charles was like waow Paul slays such a cool guy and Carlos was like yeah #whatever I met him. Which leaves the floor open for a hilarious triangle where Paul likes Carlos, who likes Charles, who overcompensates and insists he and Paul get along sooo well.

Tldr: Paul needs Carlos so bad. But he’d have better luck with Charles in whom he is NOT interested lmao

#ask #charlos #paulos

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sanjisboyfie · 9 months ago

Text

๑ keep safe - davy back fight 彡 long ring long land arc begins! (32)

one piece x male reader

the boy with the thorn in his side

behind the hatred there lies,

a murderous desire

for love

『 prev 』

when morning came, the crew had arrived at a very vacant island. of course, luffy, chopper, and usopp were the first to jump at exploring it. and surprisingly, it was [name] that stayed behind with the rest of the crew.

“huh? you’re not gonna go be a dumbass with them?” zoro asked, looking unimpressed as [name] stood on the deck with the rest of the remaining crew.

“there’s not even anything there,” [name] sighed with a pout, “it’s really just land as far as the eye can see as well as long animals that are walking around as if its normal…”

“huh?” the crew echoed, not understanding what [name] was talking about. after all, all they could see was a vast greenscape in front of htem, not any odd, long animals that [name] was talking about.

“trust me, they’re there,” he said with a wave of his hand, “nami, robin, want any coffee?”

”sure!”

“if it wouldn’t be too bothersome,”

“oh, it would never-”

“we don’t have any coffee, idiot,”

sanji’s blunt, cut through words made [name] collapse where he stood with tears streaming down his stoic face.

“yes…that’s right…no coffee…”

“it’s not the end of the world, idiot, quit overreacting,” zoro walked over [name] with a yawn, stepping over his back with not a care in the world. the h/c haired man didn’t seem to care either, the odd form of abuse flying over his head as he was too focused on the fact they had no coffee left.

“what am i supposed to do…”

sanji and nami sighed at his attitude while robin merely found him amusing.

unable to quench his hunger for coffee, or even just coffee beans, [name] felt miserable. as if he were having withdrawls. it made him go back to his hammock and try and force himself back to sleep. unfortunately, he was unable to even close his eyes to rest since he was longing so much for the bitter treat.

he was even shaking where he laid due to the withdrawl he was feeling. thinking that making any hot beverage would be better than just laying down, he changed into more breathable clothes and made his way to the kitchen. a plain black shirt and loose pants were sufficient in keeping him feeling comfortable.

he heated the water over the fire in a tea kettle, waiting impatiently for it to boil. just as he was about to pour the water into his cup, there was a tremendous tremor underneath merry that made him spill the hot water over his skin instead of the teacup. he cursed under his breath, rushing over to the sink and pouring cold water over his tender flesh.

“what the fuck?” he murmured, drying the throbbing part of his hand gently and then stomping onto the deck. when he saw that the rest of the crew was standing on the ground, he went to the front of the railing and yelled, “what the hell was that?!”

“don’t be hasty! all we want is…a showdown!”

a pissed off look was on his face as he heard a loud announcer say over a speaker system. it was as if the person needed to be heard from every corner of the earth from how loud they were. or maybe, [name] was just particularly irritable and wanted nothing but peace and quiet (and coffee).

“who the hell is that.”

“we are the foxy pirates!!”

“and who the hell are the foxy pirates?”

“we are here to challenge you to a davy back fight!!”

[name] looked to the rest of the crew with a sour look on his face. they all shrugged, not knowing what the hell the other people were talking about. but since merry was trapped in between the ship and the island, they had no other choice but to entertain the foxy pirates.

“the fight begins the moment two captains are in agreement. as we speak, our captain is challenging your captain, monkey d. luffy, to battle!”

“challenging? what kind of nonsense is that? if you want a fight, then just start one!”

[name] jumped down off of merry and onto the island, joining robin’s side as he looked up at their “enemy” ship.

“hey, you’ve never heard of a davy back fight?”

“it sounds stupid,” [name] yawned, making sanji kick the back of his head in annoyance.

”you, out of everyone here, should know what a davy back fight is. you’ve been sailing the seas the longest. seriously. it’s not a fight, it’s a pirate game!”

“yes, a game that supposedly arose long ago on “pirate island,” which is said to be a pirate paradise somewhere in the sea. in it, pirates plunder each other for top-notch crew members.”

“pirates plunder each other?!” namii asked in amazement. similar to zoro and [name], she had never heard of a davy back fight before either.

“yes, i’m surprised you’ve never heard about that,” a random crew member shouted from the other ship, “after each match, the winner can take any crew member they want from the opposing team,”

as if it were a sixth sense, [name] felt a hundred pair of eyes on the back of his head.

“it is certainly a surprise to know you weren’t even aware of such a game, cursed orphan,” [name] clicked his tongue in annoyance, standing tall and upright as he faced the other crew. “you have been talked about a lot the past three years since you’ve hit the seas. whenever this game was mentioned, someone would always bring up your name. the fact you had no crew, meant that no one could challenge you to such a game. but now — you’re all up for grabs,”

[name] rolled his eyes in annoyance, “not happening, you shits,”

“oh, but a mere crew mate like you doesn’t get a say in what happens,” they taunted, pointing a finger at him as they smirked, “the choice rests on your captain’s shoulders. and when your captain does say yes and we win that first round, you’re going to be the first one up that we choose to come to our side.

whoever’s chosen must immediately swear loyalty to their new captain! in the name of davy jones, the pirate of the deep!”

“fuck davy jones,” [name] says under his breath as he kicks a stone beneath his foot.

”so…you lose a crew mate?” nami asked for clarification, stiffening when the other crew confirmed that.

“and if no one of interest is on the losing side — then you get to strip the pirate ship of its jolly roger, the pride and life of the ship and crew!”

“so crewmates and pride are on the line. winning with make you stronger, while losing will mean a serious lose,” sanji repeated, biting the cigarette that was in his mouth in an annoyed snarl, “what a vicious game.”

as “proof” that the foxy pirates meant business when stealing crewmates, they brought out a couple of former crewmates of another pirate ship. they were now spewing loyalties to the foxy pirates with no shame, making [name] grimace in disgust.

imagining him having to act or be that way, as a foxy crewmate who looked down on luffy, his previous captain, made him sick to his stomach and angry enough to commit some heinous acts.

“and like it or not, you’re all in the game if your captain so much as nods his head in agreement,”

[name] sighed, wondering if luffy would actually fall into such a trap. now, [name] was all for fun and exciting games to be played — especially when the stakes are high. but things such as trading off crewmates was not anything he found particularly exhilarating. it was a disgusting thought; to treat his friends and companions as commodities in a game.

there was nothing fun or exciting about that. and the more the people on that ship talked about it as if it was, made him more and more angry. if he was really going to be put on that ship, he’d made sure to start some infighting to teach them all a lesson.

“then — if it’s just the captain’s decision, i’ll go run over there and do my best in stopping luffy!!”

nami already took off running, but the sound of two gunshots made her stop in her tracks.

“he’s agreed to it.”

“fine by me.”

“this’ll be interesting.”

“luffy…what the hell.”

the strawhats all gathered together, some shooting each other disappointed looks as they were preparing for the “opening ceremony” of the davy back fight.

in what seemed like a couple of minutes, the foxy pirate crew had built up a miniature town that had yakisoba stands, cotton candy sellers, and a bunch of other things you’d most likely see at a carnival. the strawhats all stood in the back as luffy and some split-head guy were sitting at the stage in the front.

“okay, men! please quiet down as we start the opening ceremony!” a woman with blue hair spoke into the mic. she had an odd mask on her face, but as [name] observed those around him, he realized it must be some costume that the crew has to wear.

“first the only way to take back crewmates, jolly rogers, or anything else is through another davy back fight. second, anyone taken by the winner must sweat loyalty to that ship’s captain immediately! third if your holly roger is taken, you can’t ever display it again !”

sanji came running up to the crew with cotton candy, which he lovely presented to robin and nami. the navigator had her head in her hands as she panicked about their entire situation.

“how can you all be so calm about this?!”

”are you still moping about that?” zoro asked, a tired look on his face.

“hm, i don’t like it either, but what’s done is done. if anything goes awry, we can just kill all of these people and set sail without warning,” [name] nonchalantly said, shrugging his shoulders as if it weren’t a big deal. “it’s an annoying predicament luffy has got us into, but the chances are we are gonna win any game over these bozos.”

chopper and usopp looked at [name], horrified at his confession of mass slaughtering the other crew. zoro and sanj, on the other hand, were nagging him about his reaction.

”don’t you think that’s such an unmanly way to go about this?”

“our pride is on the line here, shit for brains, have you no pride?”

they pulled on each side of his face, stretching his cheeks out as they spat insults of his stupidity and lack of pride as a man that he had. he could only take it with a stoic look on his face, not having the bone to argue further with them.

“should you break these rules you’ll be considered a dishonorable pirate and sent to davy jones’ locker!”

“as if pirates have any sense of honor,” [name]’s bored tone and snide comment made zoro and sanji hit him on the back of his head at the same time. “do you swear to uphold them?”

“i swear!”

the strawhats all perked up in attention when they saw that things were finally getting set into motion. it seemed that the captain of the foxy pirates was letting luffy choose how many games they would play.

the ravenette looked out into the crowd when nami called out his name. he grinned at the signal they were giving him and nodded his head in understanding. both nami and usopp were standing side by side with their pointer fingers held up, indicating that luffy should pick only one game and then be done with it.

unfortunately, luffy didn’t understand and proudly announced that they would be playing three games. someone from foxy’s crew had joined them in their signal, adding his finger in and making luffy think they meant three games instead of just one.

once they were told that all they had to do now was wait for the game of choice to be announced, luffy came waltzing over to them with a carefree look on his face. within seconds, both nami and usopp were scolding and lecturing him with pissed off looks on their faces.

“hey! you forgot something! write down your rosters and give them to our party organizer! members can participate only twice. once you’ve chosen your roster, it’s set in stone!”

a paper was thrown at zoro, who calmly picked it up.

he read the information off, as the rest of the crew gathered. “the events of the contest are: a race, a ball game, and a team competition.”

“what vague wording,” [name] said, glaring at the words on the paper.

”what’s this? a race is open to all members, the ball game is open to three, and the team competition is open to five,” sanji added in, seeing the small notes that were added underneath each game.

“all right! i’m gonna do all three!” luffy said, obviously having not listened to the announcer earlier.

“you can only participate two times, lu,” [name] softly informed the man, rubbing up and down his back, “so you can’t do all three games.”

luffy pouted at the reiterated information, leaning into [name]’s torso with an upset look on his face.

after some sulking and strategic talk, the straw hats were able to decide who would participate when. since the race battle was open to all members, they only had to choose for the second and third game. [name] volunteered himself for the second game, which the others had no problem with. sanji and zoro were next to put down their names for that one — showing some obvious competitive spirit (even though [name] would be on their team). and he decided not to participate in the last one, leaving it to the made team of: robin, nami, usopp, and luffy.

he smirked in interest, finally starting to feel excited about the games rather than annoyed. there was no way he was going to let the strawhats end this game without all their crew members anyway, so he supposed he might as well enjoy it for what it was.

a good opportunity to humble the rookie fodder that were the foxy pirates.

the announcer read their roster with enthusiasm, setting everyone off to prepare for the first game. they gave everyone participating free access to some barrels, encouraging them to break it apart to use as materials for their boat race.

“how should we team up?”

“since some of us are devil fruit users, maybe we should split into two teams of three and four people…” sanji said in thought, taking into account that their race was going to be over the sea water.

[name] hummed in interest, looking at the barrels that were on the stage, “i’ll go solo.”

“hah? why?” nami asked, an unsure look on her face.

“i have an idea, requires only me to execute it. sorry, nami, you won’t be riding with me today,” he teased, going to pinch her cheek, but was immediately slapped away by her own hand and sanji’s.

after a hard glare coming from the navigator, he departed to grab everyone their barrels. he took as many as he could, balancing them in his hold before dropping them onto the ground for all of them to use. he only required one, so it left the rest of the crew with a lot to work with. he took a seat not too far from everyone else, but a good distance away so that he could focus without getting distracted.

but he didn’t mind company, which is why he welcomed usopp’s figure walking towards him with a genuine smile.

“so what are you planning on making, [name]?” usopp asked in curiousity. he peered over [name]’s shoulder with the said man turning his head so he could properly look at usopp as he answered. he didn’t even flinch when his cheek pressed against usopp’s nose since they were that close to one another.

“surfboard!” was his only response, grinning ear to ear and then turning back to his handy work, “if all goes well, this should be an easy win. but if not, i can’t promise i won’t pass out from exhaustion,”

usopp fell onto [name]’s back at that answer, moaning and groaning in a panic, “what if we end up losing [name]? what if we end up getting one of us taken away?!”

”i wouldn’t worry about that, usopp,” [name] comforted the poor man, patting up and down his arm to soothe him, “this is just the first of three games — besides, i’m in the second round as well, so hopefully we can just win whoever we lost back with no problems!”

usopp looked at [name] with hope in his eyes, comedic tears brimming in his round eyes, “do you really have that much faith, [name]? how heartwarming to know you’re so confident in all of our abilities!”

“of course i would be,” [name] laughed, ruffling usopp’s hair and pressing down on his head as if he were a kid, “now you should get to building — your team is counting on you!”

the sniper, with a new sense of confidence and hope, nodded and went off to robin and nami to build their boat together.

[name] hummed as he worked, wiping the sweat off from his forehead as he worked on flattening out the barrel planks. he was beginning to feel hot from working so hard on his “boat” that he turned around to luffy and sanji, beginning to whine, “sanji!!! i’m thirsty, give me water!”

the chef’s brow quirked up in annoyance at the whiney tone [name] had, “what the fuck do i look like to you?! an errand boy?! get yourself some water, dipshit!”

“hey, i asked so nicely and that’s how you respond? how rude of you, sanji, how rude,”

“i could have said much worse, would you like me to?!”

“no, asshole,” [name] muttered the last bit to himself, beginning to stand up and get himself his own water. but just as he was about to turn around from his surfboard, someone bumped into him. they were so close to him, it was as if they were standing behind him when he was sitting down.

he looked down to get a proper look at them, quirking his eyebrow up in intrigue when he recognized that they were a foxy pirate crew member. she had long blonde hair, looking up at him with a blush set on her cheeks.

“hello…?”

“oh! i heard you were thirsty, so i got you a water bottle, [name]!”

he looked at the women before shaking his head, “i’m alright, thanks,” he didn’t want to blatantly accuse her of trying to poison him, but there was no doubt in his mind that that was exactly what she was doing.

why else would someone from the enemy team come over to him?

“are you sure? you look a bit hot,” she said, raising a hand to press against his forehead. he stopped her immediately, gently grabbing her wrist and guiding it back down to her side.

“thank you for the offer, but i’m alright. i’ll just go get my own water,” he awkwardly smiled at her before running off, leaving her there astounded at his behavior. then she huffed in annoyance that she wasn’t able to give him the water that she actually didn’t do anything to (really, she didn’t — the cap was still sealed and everything). she just wanted to show him a nice gesture — and see him up close.

but that annoyed expression on her face was wiped off almost immediately as she daydreamed about what he did look like up close. the blush that was on her cheeks before returned and she almost covered her face with her hands to calm herself.

meanwhile, the straw hats were watching from the side with confused looks on their faces.

“what was that.” nami asked, face scrunched up in genuine confusion. there was no way that was what she thinks it was. and if it was — seriously? [name] of all people? she shuddered at the thought.

“don’t know, that was weird, though!” luffy exclaimed, eyes blown wide as he watched the mystery woman run off with her head down and hiding from their watchful eyes. “if i was [name], i would’ve taken it…it’s free water anyway,”

on the other hand, sanji was sulking in the corner, drawing mindless shapes into the grass as a shadow of sadness and forlorn was hanging around him. it was as if a thunder cloud was hovering above his head with how sad and pathetic he looked.

in a couple of minutes, [name] returned with some refreshments for him and the rest of the crew. and it took him longer than he realized to get the drinks because the moment they finished their drinks, the announcer said that it was time for the race to start.

[name] wiped his forehead of sweat one last time before he picked up his surfboard. it wasn’t as sturdy as he wished for it to be, but hopefully it would still get the job done.

everyone got dropped into the water, the strawhats sticking close to one another as they entered the field with the enemy surrounding them. [name] took a seat on his surfboard, looking around as more people entered the water.

“oh! the odds are finally in! i’ll listen them in order of popularity, starting with the most popular,” [name] sweatdropped at the idea of people voting on a popularity pole, what odd timing for such a thing. “the top spot obviously is going to the member of the powerful team foxy: porche-chan!” a woman with a pointy nose and long blue hair was standing on top of her boat, waving her arms in the air as she looked at her “fans” on shore.

it was obvious she was a favorite for her cute looks and personality with how loud the men on the sidelines were cheering for her.

“ooh! just leave it to me!” she exclaimed as she blew kisses into the crowd, which only made them cheer louder.

“second most popualr is…oh!! this is unexpected! the straw hat team of navigator nami, sniper usopp, and archeologist robin! they’ll be riding the barrel tiger!”

[name] cheered for his team, screaming and clapping his hands for them. this only made nami splash him with water using her paddle, putting her head down in fear and shame. he could only guess that her thoughts were going a mile a minute since she assumed that the foxy pirates would probably be taking her first when they win since she’s the cutest. [name] smiled at her funny reaction, turning back to the announcer to hear more.

“third most popular is…oh! another surprise! the strawhat team’s solo rider, [name]!!” the man blinked in shock, looking to the announcer to make sure he was hearing right, “oh, with such a cool boat, there’s no wonder he’s got many fans. a man of confidence, he is! what mysterious power will he use to try winning?!”

“not try — i am going to,” [name] huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at the cheesy announcer.

“that attitude! isn’t it just to die for, ladies?!”

[name] flinched at the sudden question, but his jaw really dropped when he heard a high chorus of agreement come from the crowd. the previous “front row” men were replaced with just as many women, who came forward and were shamelessly showing their support for him.

“win the race, [name]! we bet you’ll look really good while you do it, too!!”

“i’m your number 1 supporter!”

“oh, i hope he loses so he can join us!”

“good thinking, me too, me too!!”

the straw hats, minus sanji — who was once again sulking, all sweatdropped at the sudden attention [name] was getting. they were shocked that it was even a positive encouragement coming from the foxy pirates.

“please, don’t cheer for me,” [name] said in a serious tone, looking at the girls with a blank stare, “i don’t even know why you would…”

“telling me not to cheer will only make me cheer louder!”

[name] grimaced.

“because you’re the strongest, [name]!”

that made him put on a prideful grin, for a split second.

“because you’re the coolest and most handsome, [name]!”

a blank stare was shot towards the women who shouted that.

“now, now, let’s get settled, ladies! the rest of the popularity poll must be read!” the commentator lightly scolded, making the women in the front row quiet down, but still shoot [name] their heart eyes and dreamy smiles.

he shifted where he sat, pretending to not notice them.

“next is the harem nocturne, a boat of the beautiful, by the beautiful, for the beautiful!” a couple of the women on board that boat winked at [name] when they noticed him staring in wonder, “in fourth place is the crab crane, a regular in the top ranks! in fifth and sixth place, the swordfish king #1 and #2!! seventh most popular is the party-loving pleasure boat! in eighth place, the duke special!”

it seemed that the other strawhats weren’t even worthy of being read off, not until luffy incited an explanation. and with that, they learned that they weren’t even the last on the list, but someone from foxy’s crew that had an inhumanely large barrel boat set up.

and with the introduction of all the teams, everyone watching was getting hyped up and ready for the race.

“crush them, porche-chan!!”

“we’re cheering for you, handsome [name]!!”

”that’s a lil overboard…”

“we hope you sink, long-nose!”

“me?!”

with the firing of the gun, everyone was quick to steer ahead. [name] used his makeshift paddle for now, standing on top of his surfboard and balancing himself to make sure that he didn’t fall.

he grit his teeth, seeing that from the largest ship, a bunch of other barrels had been thrown into the sea. when nami had poked the barrel with her oar, a sudden explosion was set off, making [name] still and turn behind him in worry.

seeing that their boat was shot straight up into the air, he quickly let the water spurt up underneath them and catch them before they could crash down and do more damage to their boat. it was as if the sea turned into a fountain for a split second with how instant the reaction was.

“are you all okay?!”

“we’re fine, thanks [name] for saving us,” he nodded stiffly, shouting at them to be sure that they avoided the rest of the barrels.

“that’s impossible! they’re completely surrounding us!”

“hand me that oar, chopper, i can take care of it,” zoro commanded and the doctor didn’t waste a second before complying.

in a couple of seconds, all of the explosive barrels that were surrounding them had be pushed back to where they came from. and before the rest of them knew it, a tremendous wave had resulted from the explosion.

seeing it as the perfect opportunity, [name] threw the oar aside and stood tall and ready for the wave to hit.

“asshole, you better use this chance for good and send us into first place!!” zoro shouted, seeing the plan practically painted on [name]’s face. the devilish smirk and confident fire in his eyes, he was easy to read in that moment.

“just sit back and enjoy the show, idiot marimo!” [name] shouted in return, watching the gigantic wave only get bigger and bigger.

he began paddling with his arms before popping up onto his feet, keeping a steady balance. within seconds, he was being put into first place as the wave he was riding did all of the hard work for him.

“we’re happily watching and enjoying, [name]!” the same “fanclub” that made itself known earlier screamed, practical hearts in their eyes. he ignored their cries, focusing on staying balanced and standing upright.

with the water now dousing his clothes and hair, he was completely drenched in sea water. he smirked at the cool feeling, a drastic difference to his warm body heat. it was the perfect balance of temperature that gave him a shot of dopamine.

“perfect,” he leaned down, touching the wave underneath his barrel surfboard. then he stood up and his posture turned relaxed, hands on his hips as he steadily guided his surfboard straight ahead.

“i’m in first place~”

if anyone thought about it for even just a second, they’d have realized that this was the perfect race for [name]. but, obviously, only if you had known the one major factor: [name] had the ability to manipulate water, including saltwater, even if only for a short while. riding atop of such a simple, but easily maneuverable boat/surfboard made for a perfect vessel in the conditions.

and not a single soul in the grand line knew of this ability, which made it the perfect opportunity to twist this in the straw hat’s favor. it explained why the confident smirk on his face didn’t falter for even a second.

[ .ᐟ ] i cant believe that this is a real arc and not just filler……

taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 : ty to the persoin in the replise that helped me out with this issue, however, those with the ** marked i still cant properly tag them :(( their accoutns wont show up when i type the username, but for the ones marked without ** the accounts showed up perfectly fine :// im rlly confused on why its doing thissss ughhhh

@skullr0se @strawberrii-tea @triangulartriangles @anotherlovefool

@sinmp @taru-nami @disc0dild0s @boredwithlifeatthispoint

@whotdefak @zforgottensniper @lunarapple @softi-911 @softhanyu

@coca-cola-fiend @chibiduck

@violentlynerdy **

@kaulitzer **

@3v33373 **

@notplutos **

@cheetosins **

@lcst-at5ea **

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