#i'm not sure which ship name i prefer out of all the of them but thought this was unique to our little ship

[necrotic-nephilim]

there is not enough femslash in batcest circles. the girls deserve to be just as weird about each other as the boys are. if BruDick gets to be weird father/son/brothers/lovers/friends/rivals/soulmates then it is only fair that Babs/Cass get to be mother/daughter/sisters/lovers too. Something about that deep intrinsic but undefinable love that is born out of trauma, especially if you consider Cass not knowing what healthy love looks like in the first place. i think it's fun and deserves just as much fandom content.

besides that, you can get even more niche with rarepairs like Helena/Steph. Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma is already a fantastic comic and even though it's their only real canon interaction it has so much potential. very comparable to TimJay in how Helena tries to get Steph to understand her morals and the corruption you could play with it.

batman: huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma (1998)

that comic also highlights on how both Steph and Helena are outcasts of the Batfamily and don't have the approval of Bruce to be doing what they do in "his city". I think there's so much Potential in Helena taking Steph under her wing because Bruce won't let her in and it becomes a weird codependent toxic sapphic mess. I think the protectiveness Helena feels over Steph from the get-go is so clear and the way she wants to look out for Steph, wants to make sure Steph understands the real world? I love them. Helena should be allowed to steal Steph, actually. I think it'd be fun.

there are a lot of other possibilities too like Babs/Steph or even getting weird with Helena Bertinelli/Helena Wayne and the existential question of "is it selfcest or not." But these two specifically live in my head rent-free, especially Helena/Steph and one day I'll convince everyone else to ship it too.

[here-there-be-fics]

We could do something I've never seen with a ship before when tagging;

Have a Safe-For-Work shipname = Kinley

And a Not-Safe-for-Work shipname = Kinkley

[batifresa]

Tashi is the eldest child of her family. We know for a fact that she has two younger brothers; we see them with her parents at the Adidas party. We also know her family was very supportive of her, and that Tashi is described by Zendaya as family-oriented.

But what about Art and Patrick's families? Here's what I think.

Patrick 100% has siblings! My take is that the only reason his parents didn’t care about him throwing his life away and being a disappointment, is because they already had another child perfectly trained and poised to take over the family business and carry on the Zweig name proudly. A boy, the eldest. And just in case the eldest failed, a backup, another boy, or a girl. The heir, the spare, and Patrick.

He was un unruly child, I'm sure, so they just sent him away to boarding school to be raised by someone else. More trouble than he was worth. His rejection issues (possibly) come from his parents always preferring his siblings over him. Abandoned and overlooked. The wound reopened, ugly and festering, when Art and Tashi married each other instead of him.

If Patrick were an only child, there is absolutely no way his parents would have allowed him to just fuck off into the sunset to play tennis. In my opinion, Patrick gives middle child energy, though he could be the youngest as well. That being said, he's obviously not close to his family at all. Given his current lifestyle, it's evident that at one point his parents either, cut him off, or he stopped accepting their financial support.

It's worth noting that, while Tashi's family was present at her match for the 2006 US Open (and quite supportive, complete with signs and video cameras), the families of Patrick and Art were nowhere in sight. Which brings us to:

Art. He's a tricky one cause, in my opinion, not only does he give strong "Only Child Syndrome" energy, but also "divorced parents" energy. His grandma clearly adored him and doted on him, but his parents were very much absent from his life. And no, I don't think they're dead. On top of Art's boarding school expenses, we know his grandma was in a nursing home, which are also very, very expensive. So who was paying for all of this? An uncle? Possibly, but I don't think so.

It seems to me that his parents divorced, but neither of the two wanted to deal with the living, breathing reminder of their failed marriage, so they shipped him off to boarding school. I suppose it's possible that he could have step-siblings from either of his parents remarrying, but they probably didn't want him anywhere near their new families. Lonely and unwanted. Aside from his codependency issues, this could be an extra motive to his complete aversion to separating from Tashi, despite his clear misery. He doesn't want history to repeat itself with Lily. Divorce brought nothing but pain for him, after all.

I've encountered people depicting Art's family as middle-class, but that's incorrect. WASPs usually come from old money, and we can tell that this is the case with Art. The sheer size of the rock on Tashi's finger, which belonged to his grandma, speaks for itself. The writer has also explicitly said both guys came from money, but were essentially abandoned by their families.

Before Tashi, they really had no one to rely on but each other. Which makes their fall out all the more tragic.

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

ik you mentioned interest in writing out how you'd prefer homestuck ended (though obviously time and money makes that impossible lol), and you touched on it in your big eridan essay at the end, but would you ever consider maybe a more detailed outline? i really enjoy your thoughts on the characters and the abandoned plotlines, i'd love to get a little more of an in depth look at how you wish it went down.

Yeah sure!

For those who aren't sure what the hell I'm talking 'bout, please check out my blog and the various essays I've been writing.

Some of it is contingent on stuff I kind of still need to reread so I'm really sorry to the alpha kid likers but I'm still not totally 100% sure where I want to take them. I'm also going to include quite a few personal preference ships; I'm not interested in arguing what other people should ship or about arguing about the course of action for my dumb fanfic in general. I also tend to discover the plot I want while I'm writing it, which I don't have the luxury of here, so... some of it is going to be kind of sloppy. I'm also a big troll stan so unfortunately the kids are a little bit neglected (sorry!!!!). That said.

So the changes would take place directly after GAME OVER, which is personally the point at which I think the truncation/turning on the fanbase really starts - ships start to get turbo-sped at that point. I'm not even saying I dislike JohnRoxy or JohnRezi, but they just feel oddly rushed the way they're handled in the comic itself. IMO, anyway.

There's not too much I would rearrange during this interstitial segment; I think it's important for Jade to have the experience of loneliness, for Terezi to kick off the retcons by only feeling comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Moreover, there's no reason why other characters can't use her mind beacon abilities to ask John to rearrange the timeline, though their attempts, because they aren't backed by Seer of Mind abilities, are a lot sloppier and come with a lot more unforseen consequences.

But something I would change is that Roxy's deal with Nyx is not to just kind of... sit back and chill in non-space while John does all the work; instead, like Rose in Davesprite's timeline, Nyx puts her to sleep, and when the timeline ceases to be, GameOver!Roxy's memories get transferred to Past!Roxy via her dreamself (which wakes up early), fulfilling a "stealing from void for others" aspect of her abilities, and leads to some important interactions later on down the line.

Also, this timeline's ARquiussprite and Gamzee's corpse (heretofore referred to as (ARquiussprite) and (Gamzee)) need to come along for the ride somehow. Maybe they fall through the sky after LOLAR crashes into LOFAF.

This kicks off a series of retcons, as each troll that gets brought back successively asks for another troll/set of trolls to be brought back. This absolutely RIDDLES Act 5 with password pages, can't go two steps without running into a password page, there are password pages within password pages (which IMO is very funny and very Homestuck).

Meanwhile, a couple other plots are running concurrently - the GameOver!crew (heretofore referred to as (Name)) are now in the dream bubbles, completing their character arcs and preparing to defeat LE. Because time and space are weird in the Furthest Ring, every successive meteor trip that occurs as a result of John's retcons is the first time from the point of view of the meteor, but is a repeating event from the point of view of the people in the bubbles - eg those dead god tier Eridan and Feferi wind up healing the Mayor like seven times from their perspective.

(Aradia) is fluttering her ASS off to make sure everyone is in the right "place" at the right "time" for this, lmfao.

Roxy gaining future memories also means that the Alpha kids get to complete their arcs in a way they weren't able to prior to Game Over. Because what John's retcons are doing are functionally whiting out and redrawing the past, the Alpha kids are also only seeing a single linear timeline.

One last arc, which is running concurrent to the retconned!trolls and their new meteor trips, is that bringing back each successive character allows them ALL to grow a little more. So it is NOT like they bring back Vriska, and now everyone's problem are fixed and everything is fine; Vriska's still kind of awful, but she gets better after Tavros gets brought back and they have to character develop alongside each other, and same when Aradia and Sollux get brought back, so on and so on. Because it's about BEING FRIENDS and BEING A TEAM. They're all still having interpersonal problems right up until ALL of them get brought back.

But as a side effect of this and the questing done by the GameOver!crew, the Dancestors get more fully utilized as foils, and get their problems addressed. As the retcon!team goes through their character development, they start to tear the Dancestors apart, because the Dancestors represent shitty parents who force their kids to clean up after their messes, and refuting them works both literally and symbolically as rejecting their irresponsible way of being in lieu of responsibility, accountability, empathy, and compassion.

So here's the series of retcons, and the absolute bullshit that accompanies each decision:

Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent herself from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.

Pretty much just what her canon iteration asked for; I don't see any problems with the actions she asks John to do for her.

HOWEVER, we'd get more than just a montage of Vriska's time on the meteor, because in this version of events, we're taking our time and letting plot points breathe. Neither does she magically fix everything just by being around when she's very much herself still going thru it by the time the Meteor trip pops off. In any case, she brings with her some new complications:

Karkat still winds up having to play moirail and keep Gamzee calm. This still ends up breaking down by the halfway point of the comic, because they're kind of just not good for each other, but Karkat's personal shitty relationships are going to become A Theme, so it's important to make note of it here.

Vriska and Terezi don't fully make up on this iteration of the trip, since from Terezi's point of view, she was still actively about to kill Vriska before John intervened; however, we get more hints, now that they have to spend three years together, that not only does Vriska really miss Terezi (which is pretty well-established, given how she can't seem to leave Terezi alone), but Terezi actually misses Vriska, too - she's just really bad at separating her own feelings and desires from her instinctive grasp of karma and justice, a very Mind player-type problem to have.

At least with Vriska around, Terezi's able to nip her Gamzee habit in the bud, but this kind of leads to Gamzee feeling worse and more alone.

Something Really Messy happens between Vriska, Rose, and Kanaya when Rose starts her drinking habit, and it's pretty toxic for all involved, and Karkat is kind of stuck playing auspice. Vriska already expresses not liking Rose much and develops some flushed feelings for Kanaya after being watching her murder Eridan, so "It's Really Messy" is kind of all I can say on the matter. The girls are fightiiinnnnggggg

Dave and Terezi get close again, but given the weirdo vibes he notices between her and Vriska, and the fact that he's really not down with quadrants (YET.), means they still end up not getting together.

Sorry DaveKat likers but I am not one. They do not ever get together, so if you are hoping for that, I am sorry and you don't have to keep reading if you don't want to, it's OK.

On a note about Vriska and Terezi - personally, I do think their moirallegiance is endgame; Vriska clearly misses her terribly, constantly trying to bug her into making the Scourge Sisters a Thing again, and she even expresses feeling really bad about the Team Charge Debacle to Terezi explicitly, before directly foreshadowing how awful Terezi will feel after killing Vriska:

AG: Cause even though you got all these highfalutin morals and fancy reserv8tions, you know as well as me that a killer is a killer is a killer! AG: There 8n't no ch8nging your ways for good, and one d8y you're going to flail that silly l8ttle cane of yours and not find n8thin to 8ump into, and fall f8ce first into the shit ag8in. AG: And you're going to do something t8rri8le to some8ody and wish you could t8ke it 8ack 8ut you c8n't!!!!!!!! AG: And then you'll work hard to win 8ack their trust, and you'll try and try and tr8, and you'll see how hard it is! AG: You'll seeeeeeee!

We know that she starts using 8's where they don't make sense phonetically when she gets really agitated, so it's pretty safe to say that she's displaying genuine emotional distress here. When combined with the way she tells John about feeling absolutely horri8le about killing Tavros, it's pretty clear she's genuine about feeling really bad about the Team Charge debacle, and sincere about wanting to somehow make amends and get back into Terezi's good graces, at times trying rivalry, at times trying to prove that she's trying to fix her mistakes.

Terezi also vehemently denies them having a kismesistude and directly mirrors Vriska's hesitance about all the murder:

GC: W3 4R3 SUPPOS3D TO R3V3L 1N BLOODSH3D 4S W3 GROW UP GC: 4ND SH3 S33MS TO B3 3MBR4C1NG H3R R1T3 OF P4SS4G3 W1TH R3CKL3SS 4B4NDON, 4S 1 WOULD 3XP3CT GC: GR4BB1NG TH3 BULL BY TH3 HORNS, SO TO SP34K GC: 1TS 4 L1TTL3 1NT1M1D4T1NG GC: B3C4US3 1M NOT SUR3 1F 1M R34DY FOR TH4T

AG: On my world, I would 8e completely vindic8ed for killing him! He is far lower on the hemospectrum than me. He managed to disrespect me time and time again, 8ut I kept letting him live! In fact, the amount of slack I cut him would 8e considered scandalous 8y those in my class. AG: I had every reason to kill him. And yet... AG: I feel 8ad a8out it like a lame weak fudge8lood, just like he was. AG: And the fact that I feel 8ad is why I'm sort of freaking out right now!

They're basically two toxic girls who CANNOT be honest with their real feelings, and wind up hurting each other. They need therapy badly, but given the fact that they also mirror each other positively - Terezi feels grateful to Vriska for blinding her, and Vriska mentions she ought to thank Terezi for killing her, which set her up on a date with the dead John Terezi also killed - I think they have a lot of potential to be genuinely kind to each other once they work through their individual issues.

Anyway. We're keeping the Roxy stuff under wraps for now - last we saw of her, she went to go see her denizen, and her planet exploded, and John was really bummed about it. HOWEVER, we are going to check in with our GameOver!crew, although only lightly for now:

Meenah and (Vriska) have fully disappeared, and (Tavros), (Nepeta), and (Feferi) are looking for them because they've got the FUCKING TREASURE???

Everyone else from the Game Over timeline has landed in the afterlife, to varying degrees.

Shortly after entering the afterlife, (Eridan) fucked off somewhere to be alone. Last anyone heard from him was (ghost!Sollux) and him being Erisolsprite, but neither (ghost!Sollux) nor (alive!Sollux) have seen him since Erisolsprite died in Game Over.

(Karkat) is also brooding off on his own, feeling really shitty and sorry for himself. He's always felt personally responsible for everything going wrong for his team, and now that his team is basically entirely dead, he feels extra shitty.

Mostly just setting up that these guys are still relevant to the story, despite now being (irrelevant).

That brings us to the second retcon. Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.

Tavros is back.

Vriska's requested fix is a very simple one - after all, Karkat makes mention about how Vriska's always had a competitive streak with Terezi, admiring/being jealous of her ability to manipul8 people; I think an ultimate culmination of that is her insisting that insisting to John that he do a retcon to stop her from killing Tavros - which, as covered above, she regrets greatly - but to do a much sloppier job of it, simply having John pop into [S] Wake and knock Tavros the fuck out.

Vriska herself doesn't believe this will have any unintended side effects, because her opinion of Tavros is still really low despite her genuine desire to make amends, and she's wrong.

Tavros's stay on the meteor has a major effect on Gamzee. I'm not entirely sure how it would pan out exactly, but I think Gamzee would step in between Dave and Tavros, into a situation none of them are happy with. This starts Tavros on a path of realizing that his inability to stand up for himself not only hurts him, but people he cares about (Gamzee, whom he ghosted).

Vriska is mostly uninterested in Tavros now, as the moment has kind of passed, and Terezi keeps getting on her ass about going after him (which brings the two of them closer).

Previous Messy romantic situations are still active. Karkat is going thru it.

Dave feels bad about tormenting Tavros but he kind of can't help himself, especially because Tavros keeps going up to him for some reason. The fact that he gets trapped in an auspice with Tavros and Gamzee kind of reinforces that he does NOT vibe with troll quadrants. Dave becomes MORE xenophobic.

On a note regarding Gamzee and Tavros: while I generally try to avoid relying on Hussie's commentary too much, as he likes to play his cards close to his chest, his note about Gamzee in the Act 5 book is actually significant enough to me to include:

The best explanation for why Gamzee says he's scared of Vriska, in my opinion, is this: he's flat-out lying. It's a good way for him to maintain his cover as 'Soft Gamzee.' It also provides some ammunition for those who, against all sense of good taste and judgment, want to continue to believe and assert that Gamzee is a decent guy with sensitive emotions and vulnerabilities before he undergoes his Muderstuck awakening. He was none of those things, ever.

Hussie likes to play coy, and you can't really trust anything he says after Act 6 because he's fed up with the fandom, but I think this comment comes early enough, and is made assertively enough, that it can be taken at face value. I know that "Soft Gamzee" is actually extremely popular in the fandom, so this may be controversial, but I do think there's more evidence for him being kind of nasty and manipulative than not, and having that always be a part of him brings more cohesiveness to his character. For example, he seems to have a pale crush on Karkat, trying to assert that Karkat is his best friend and changing the topic when Sollux gets brought up and he recognizes Karkat is closer to Sollux than him, and if you read his first log with Terezi as if he's hiding being nasty under a soft veneer, then his comments do read as pretty passive-aggressive.

TC: yOu KnOw HoW iT iS wItH fAmIlY. GC: NO, NOT R34LLY! GC: 4DURRRR DURR DURP TC: Oh YeAh... ... TC: I sPaCeD oUt, DiD yOu KnOw HoW bEaTuFuL tHe SoUnD oF tHe OcEaN iS? TC: hAvE yOu EvEr EvEn SeEn ThE oCeAn? TC: oR i MeAn SmElLeD iT... TC: SoRrY. GC: >:[

Maybe most damningly, his narration calls dealing with Eridan's genuine emotional distress "indulge emotional theatrics," an implication of his true feelings. Karkat and Eridan are heavily foreshadowed to be moirails, and Gamzee seems to have a pale crush on Karkat. What does Gamzee do in this conversation? He chases Eridan away from comforting Karkat - using the same excuse as he uses to avoid dealing with Vriska.

CA: put kar on TC: UuUuH, i cAn't rEaLlY ThInK AbOuT InTeRvEnInG, tHe bLaCk fRoWnInG MoThErFuCkEr kInDa sCaReS Me

Moreover, he does NOT seem to like Jack comforting Karkat instead, either.

THIS IS NOT TO SAY I DON'T THINK GAMZEE ALSO DESERVES A SHOT AT KINDNESS AND REDEMPTION. Gamzee is clearly a very troubled youth, between his absentee lusus, his indoctrination into a fundie doomsday cult, and his sopor usage. The fact that having his faith shattered by Dave makes him snap implies that, one, he was already unstable and teetering on the edge, and having his faith fucked with was the last straw, and two, that until he lost that last shred of hope, he was still pretending to be nicer than he was for a reason, and given that his LE worship doesn't start up until after the snappage, I think it can be extrapolated that that reason is that he genuinely wants to get along with his friends.

Given that Gamzee's issues largely stem from his neglectful lusus, it's not a stretch to say that Gamzee does not take well to abandonment and isolation. So here's kind of where Tavros comes in:

Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. I call it interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. Moreover, in their first conversation together, Gamzee explicitly praises Tavros for his "gumption" for stealing his clown nose, when Tavros's avoidance of his problems is one of his biggest personal issues. So yeah, personally, I'm all for moirallegiance.

But Tavros started ghosting him after Gamzee offered to make out a little, another symptom of his avoidance issues. I'm sure that, even in this meteor trip, the fact that Gamzee killed Equius and Nepeta really scares him. In his conversation with Terezi, Terezi outright says "NO WOND3R V4NT4S C4NT ST4ND YOU"; Equius is constantly yelling at him; lots of people on their team seem to genuinely just sort of dislike him.

CG: MIRACLES ARE LIKE POOP STAINS ON GOD'S UNDERWEAR. TA: eheheh makiing fun of people2 reliigiion2 i2 the be2t thiing two do.

So having one of the few people he does really like also ghost him probably did... bad things to his mental health. Especially so when said person wound up dead. But now that he isn't dead, I think they have a shot - they just need to address their personal problems. Tavros with his avoidance, and Gamzee with his resentment toward the world, and reliance on substances and religion to take the edge off. In this meteor iteration, that doesn't quite happen - their toxic auspicetism succeeds in letting them air out their dirty laundry to the audience, but doesn't bring full reconciliation.

In any case, this meteor trip is fairly short, and uneventful from the dream bubbles side, although I do think Tavros should get a talking-to from (Tavros) about real self-esteem and self-worth.

Still, being back in contact with Tavros again, even if in kind of a messed-up way, does make Gamzee start to reconsider some of his past actions. This brings us to:

Gamzee Asks for Equius and Nepeta back.

Gamzee's not as nice as he lets on, but he does genuinely care about his teammates, and for the people he really cares about, like Karkat or Tavros, I think he's willing to stick his neck out. Bringing back Nepeta and Equius is more for Tavros than himself, really, because Tavros is scared of him for doing that, and he motherfuckin' misses Tavros, okay? John mostly agrees because he's kind of scared of Gamzee.

Some really fun stuff starts happening this go around.

The Gamzee-Tavros situation becomes resolved because this time, Equius steps in as an auspice between Tavros and Dave, and this auspicetism is COMPLETELY HEALTHY (with the bonus of being extremely funny, and what is the point of a Homestuck ship if it is not deeply funny).

Gamzee and Tavros are able to enter into a totally healthy moirallegiance once the auspicetism builds up Tavros's self-confidence, much to Karkat's relief.

Being stuck in the auspicetism makes Dave go crawling back to Terezi on his hands and knees. I'm sorry, Terezi. I'll do anything if you take me back. Just don't let me die as the guy stuck in a threesome with the two worst trolls. Dave has overcome his xenophobia.

Dave and Terezi becoming official does make Karkat sad, however, so when Nepeta finally works up the courage to confess to him, he accepts the offer to date her, thus fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date him after she dies.

They also break up. We're keeping up this trend of Karkat and his disastrous relationships. He's still involved in the Rose/Kanaya/Vriska drama, too.

With GamTav and Dave/Tavros/Equius cinched, Tavros and Vriska reach a sort of truce with each other. Not really friends, since they kind of still dislike each other, but Vriska would genuinely be glad to see Tavros getting more actually confident, and muster up the energy to genuinely apologize for almost killing him, so there's a sort of mutual respect there now. Vriska and Terezi are even closer because of this, but still not fully over their problems.

On the topic of the Dave/Tavros/Equius auspicetism: Dave still can't stop bothering Tavros, but the lewdness of it sets Equius off, so he feels like he has to intervene. Dave also can't stop himself from bothering Equius, which ALWAYS BACKFIRES, and since Tavros has a weird fondness/rivalry with Dave, he'd find it within himself to ask Equius to back off (which would work, because of Equius's... Equius). And every time Equius gets too overbearing toward Tavros, Dave feels COMPELLED to intervene, because he's like, my fucking god, you are the two worst trolls, why must weirdos fight. Dave desperately wants out, but he can't stop staring at these two.

And weirdly enough, it's beneficial for all of them. With two people to yell at him for being weird, Equius becomes less weird. With a rival in Dave and more contact with Equius, Tavros becomes more confident. And Dave has two people to rap against and feel good about his art with, something he more or less had to deal with alone during previous trips.

On the topic of Karkat and Nepeta, there are quite a few implications that they wouldn't necessarily work out. For citations, let me just link my Nepeta essay, where I go over what the comic says about their relationship from a storytelling perspective; here, I'll talk about their relationship from a more interpersonal perspective.

Karkat's signals are mixed as fuuuuuuck. While I don't necessarily think this will be an issue for Nepeta, as - as a Heart player - she's preternatually gifted at understanding motivations, the thing is... I think Nepeta can do better, and deserves better, a sentiment echoed by Jasprosesprite^2. She certainly deserves better than being second to Terezi, at the very least, even if she states she likes his outbursts.

And the thing is, Karkat is pretty explicit about saying that he doesn't return her feelings; in a world where they date, there's always going to be a sense that she's his second choice. And, just... my girl deserves better, okay? Moreover, while he respects her personhood, he's also pretty nasty to her when he DOES talk to her, implying he doesn't necessarily respect her choices. And also, she's actually really bad at shipping, so there will be this extremely weird tension of like... a hobbyist vs. a professional. I don't think Karkat would be able to stop himself from mocking some of her shipping choices if she ever opened up to him about that.

But I think them getting together is important for Nepeta, developmentally - I talk about this in my essay for her, but shipping is something I think she does need to outgrow, since it's kind of a replacement she's using for her loneliness. Moreover, I say in that essay that the issues she has in her moirallegiance with Equius warrant relationship counselling - and that's what Karkat is uniquely qualified to dispense, as the team's Blood player. Although they end up not working out, Nepeta would take several valuable lessons from this relationship - that she's kind of bad at shipping, that Equius is being kind of a shithead to her, and that she needs to start making friends with other people.

Now then. We're finally getting into some drama in the bubbles.

Please imagine for me Equius and Horuss talking, and Equius being aghast at the way Horuss is so derisive towards his matesprit and moirail. Now imagine him pulling a mic out of nowhere and rapping at him about how his problem is that he does not respect his partners. Now imagine Tavros and Dave joining in, also out of nowhere, with Tavros adding bars about how the hemospectrum is, not a good thing, he thinks. And Dave adding bars about how he does not have a fucking dog in this race. He's not even a troll. He doesn't understand their hemospectrum. Let him out of here. The fine fucking art of Alternian slam poetry. I think Horuss would start crying. So would I if three people including my grandkid started rapping at me.

Nepeta's uncanny emotional acumen leads to her wanting to befriend Damara, but being unable to speak her language.

GameOver!crew is up to something, IDK, probably showing (Tavros) inspiring people and rebuilding the ghost army, to tell a parallel story to Tavros becoming more genuinely self-confident.

We check in with the Alpha kids, too, who have some group therapy sessions led by Roxy.

Vriska and Tavros confront Rufioh together, a final culmination of their no-longer-enemiesship, and together, they steal Rufioh's ones. Like, Tavros starts speak1ng w1th ones, something he always had in him, and they also roast Rufioh so badly that he stops speaking in ones. But the way it's presented to the audience, Vriska outright just says that Tavros should steal his ones. And Tavros does. This carries over to successive retcons, as it's implied that Tavros just kind of starts naturally being more confident as healthy relationships are established sooner and sooner.

Anyway, a final note about Equius - his problems are mostly due to being sheltered. Although he is probably the most casteist highblood, he's not really that casteist, as what's really going on is just that he's got a BDSM kink. But because he's sheltered, he does not realize that it's a kink. And a fetishist who does not realize that they're a fetishist has more power than God.

His protectiveness of Nepeta does come from a good place; preventing her from playing FLARP was actually in her best interest, given what happens to people who play FLARP. But he's very much going overboard with it, likely an extension of his own lack of understanding of how much sheltering is good and how much becomes detrimental. What he really needs is for someone to point it out to him, which I think he gets via Nepeta or via Karkat, and then have a reaaaaally long think about it. He's genuinely a polite and helpful soul, who doesn't WANT to make people uncomfortable. The auspicetism is very good for him in this regard, as is his moirallegiance once Karkat talks him and Nepeta through their issues.

The point is, once he's forced to reckon with the fact that the degeneracy is coming from inside the house, I think he'd have a LOT of regrets about the way he treated Aradia. Which leads us to:

Whoops That Robot Thing Was Really Inappropriate Huh

Equius approaches John to ask him to make Past!Equius reconsider the Aradiabot Thing. John's getting kind of impatient with all these trolls who keep asking him to go back through time, but given that everyone seems a little happier each time, he can't help but agree.

So he goes back to the past, before Equius can give Aradia her robot body with the love chip in it, and something really fun gets to happen here: first of all, Equius's Void status makes him really hard to place, so John winds up missing by a bit, time-wise, so Aradia's already in the body. This is the first time that retconning!John and Aradia have been in the same place together, and when she meets him and finds out that he can time travel without causing paradoxes, she demands (with her Aradiabot deathmurderkill intensity) to be taken back in time to before she died.

John's retcon powers explicitly ignore the usual rules of paradox space - he describes it as a "fresh start". Given that Breath is associated with choices and freedom, his retcon powers are kind of the ultimate culmination of his abilities as a breath player. Although doomed timelines can and will still result from paradoxes caused by players when John isn't there, anything he directly interferes with is totally a-okay.

So all Aradiabot asks him for is passage back in time, in order to sanction her interference in the past. After she dismisses him, she still more or less has to adhere to events in the original timeline, for two reasons - the first being that she doesn't want to risk a new doomed timeline, and the second so she can keep the timeline predictable.

So even though she's basically asked for passage to the time period before SGRUB, it's basically outright stated that the progression of events has to be more or less the same, up until the point where John's other retcons take place. So here are the cascading effects of Aradiabot preventing her own death:

Aradiabot takes Aradia's place in the Team Charge debacle, being blown up/"killed" (as a sprite) by Sollux's eye beams, so that she can take Aradia's place as Doc Scratch/the Handmaiden's servant and "carry out" their orders.

Meanwhile, Aradia seeks refuge with Equius, whose void powers keep her hidden from Doc Scratch's omnipotence.

Because Sollux never actually killed Aradia, and Aradia communicates with him via Equius's account, Sollux is less depressed and self-loathing. He no longer predicts a future where all of them die and he has to be blinded. It's left deliberately vague whether this future comes to pass because he's less pessimistic, so his Mage powers are calling a happier future into being, or if his future changed, so his Mage powers are prophesying something new.

Nepeta starts regaining memories of alternate timelines and past retcons, as an extension of her Rogue of Heart powers. This includes the relationship counselling she received from Karkat.

Between Nepeta and Aradia yelling at him, Equius's character development starts sooner, so he's squared away for future events, and ends up not making the creepy Aradiabot, making a non-creepy one instead.

Aradia and Equius do not strike up a relationship, and become uneasy enemies/friends.

Aradia secretly god tiers well in advance of Jack's arrival, and meets him at Derse rather than awakening on her crypt there.

Aradia and Sollux continue a loving matespritship, leading to Sollux settling into a moirallegiance with Feferi. He's devastated when she dies, which still happens along with the rest of Eridan's freakout; Aradiabot doesn't intervene because she's needed for:

Aradiabot winds up being the one to sacrifice herself piloting the meteor, allowing Sollux to stay with the rest of the team when he meets up with Aradia, (Aradia), and (Sollux) at the Green Sun. Aradiabot winds up with the GameOver!crew.

With the 1337 hackers back in commission, Sollux and Roxy are able to establish a server connection with each other, allowing them to communicate during the 3-year meteor trip.

Aradia involves herself in the Rose/Kanaya/Vriska Mess, and I kind of can't decide what I like better - a vascillatory pitch/flush threeway between Rose, Kanaya, and Vriska, now that Vriska's near the end of her character development, with Aradia serving as a stabilizing force as Kanaya's on-again off-again moirail, or Aradia stepping in as an auspice. Either way, it's out of Karkat's hands.

This has a knock-on effect of finally giving Vriska the chance to fully make amends with Aradia, which winds up cinching the Vriska/Terezi moirallegiance. The scourge sisters are back baybee. And between a healthy moirallegiance for Terezi and a healthy moirallegiance for Gamzee, I think pitch Terezi/Gamzee could work as a healthy ship this time around. I'm not married to it, but they did always seem to hate each other well before SGRUB.

Nepeta has LEARNED HER LESSON regarding dating Karkat, so that does not happen.

Karkat now has no quadrants. He winds up desperately throwing himself at Sadstuck Sollux to try and help him get over his breakup. It's not a good look. Sadkat. He also takes up talking to the alpha kids for emotional support, which puts them off, too. Still gives really good relationship advice. He's clearly one of the more unstable members of the retcon!crew at this point.

We're light on the dream bubble drama this time around because of how MUCH is happening for the retcon!crew, but there's going to be a reference in there of Nepeta learning East Beforan.

SO. NOTES TIME.

Aradia expresses outright that she hated the feeling that she was set up and that she wishes someone would have stopped her from being so reckless. And although she seems to find some satisfaction in being the stewardess of the afterlife, there's clearly some resentment there that she's been forced into that role, as she expresses that what she's really looking forward to is watching it all break apart. There's also kind of an orphaned plot thread where Aradia is spending a lot of time in the afterlife putting knowledge together, which never really directly pays off except to the audience, and I think a really good way to bring that back in would be for her to be communing with (Aradia) in the dream bubbles in order to make sure the timeline flows as smoothly as possible.

As for Aradia/Kanaya - they're actually really good friends, and Aradia expresses that she's flattered that Kanaya wants to talk to her so much. There is a tone here that matches the way Vriska thinks about Kanaya when Kanaya is still ostensibly Vriska's moirail, and Kanaya herself admits to being attracted to people who are reckless. In fact...

AA: i just wish AA: back when i was behaving recklessly AA: i had s0me0ne t0 tell me t0 st0p listening AA: even if i ended up ign0ring their advice AA: it w0uld have been nice

GA: It Must Be A Certain Madness Im Afflicted By GA: To Orbit Those More Reckless And Dangerous Than I And More Daring For It GA: I Guess I Want To Help Them But They Never Can Be Helped It Seems

So I'm just kind of saying... Aradia and Kanaya moirallegiance... is not entirely unfounded. And a moirail stabilizes a troll's other relationships; if we have a moirail for Kanaya and a moirail for Vriska, then the Mess that is whatever's going on with Kanaya, Vriska, and Rose would probably resolve itself, I think. Either way, Rose is surrounded by SUCH a girl's night of emotional support to help her with sobriety now.

As for whatever's going on between her and Equius, I tend to believe the comic when it tells me relationships don't work out, and Aradia expresses regret for kissing him during the Ministrife. I think they could be good vitriolic frenemies, though.

Okay, onto Sollux.

In the same panel where Eridan and Karkat are implied to be "hatched for each other" pale-wise, Feferi and Sollux are foreshadowed in the same way:

They also spend a LOT OF TIME curled up in a pile together talking about their feelings, which we don't see with matesprits, but we DO see with moirails. Nepeta and Equius do the same thing, and they are kind of THE moirails. So I think Sollux and Feferi were always meant to be pale, but because Aradia died, Sollux wound up taking Feferi on as a matesprit instead. Between EriFef, SolFef, and GamTav, people getting flushed and pale feelings entangled is like, a Running Thing, so it's not really surprising to me.

Now, here's the thing. We already know that Sollux likes to cope with a rebound, since he went flushed with Feferi after Aradiabot exploded and was presumed dead. And Karkat cares very fucking much about Sollux, to the point where Gamzee speculates that he's actually Karkat's best friend, and Karkat even calls him that (although Karkat also kind of just calls anyone his best friend, lol).

CG: GAMZEE WAS MY VERY GOOD FRIEND, WHO WAS THIS GOOFY LOVEABLE BULLSHIT CLOWN UNTIL HE WENT PSYCHO AND KILLED SOME PEOPLE. I LIKED HIM A LOT. CG: I DON'T KNOW, I GUESS MY BEST FRIEND IS REALLY JUST THE GUY WHO I HAPPEN TO BE FEELING MOST SENTIMENTAL TO AT THE MOMENT, IS THAT A FUCKING CRIME.

This crab's got so much love in him. In any case, I mostly just want to keep sticking Karkat in these extremely unhealthy relationships for a while. It makes it sweeter when he finally winds up with Eridan LIKE HE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO... but yeah.

Cross-session communication is also entirely possible, as Sollux set up chat clients between the trolls and the kids in the first place, and even without that, Kanaya found Rose's old GameFAQs on a server in the Furthest Ring. With both Sollux and Roxy on the case, there's no way they can't somehow establish communications way sooner.

Regarding Nepeta regaining her memories, let me once more point you towards the Nepeta essay. She's on track to become the one who attains Ultimate Selfhood, and comforts people like Jade and John about not really knowing their friends or being lonely.

But yeah, obviously Sollux asks for Feferi to be brought back.

F-EF-ERI!!!! 38D

Mostly Sollux just asks to be prevented from provoking Eridan so harshly. Eridan still winds up blowing up the matriorb, and thus, still getting killed by Kanaya in retribution, but this means that Eridan is now the only member of the team left dead.

PITCH FEFNEP. PITCH FEFNEP. PITCH FEFNEP

Pitch FefNep leads to Feferi letting slip something casteist where Sollux can hear; he doesn't personally care because he's heard much worse, but puts them on a break while she sorts herself out. They get back together after that.

Karkat alone :'( he's mostly just talking to the alpha kids at this point, trying to hide from all the happy fucking relationships happening all around him.

If the last retcon was really heavy on the retcon!crew, then this one is much more about what's happening in the bubbles. We get most of our dancestor development this go around. Do not read if you like the dancestors! I go very in-depth about how most of them are horrible people on purpose here, so their arcs are mostly about them being pulled up on their abject awfulness.

Nepeta, who has learned East Beforan, is able to talk to Damara and have an earnest heart-to-heart with her about how awfully she was treated. They hug and cry. Damara, finally validated, gives everyone a big middle finger.

Feferi heals Mituna's brain injury, because literally why the FUCK has nobody else done that. Now once more in control of his faculties, he breaks up with Latula, pissed off that she took advantage of him all those eons to boost her own ego. He also gives everyone a big middle finger. Damara steals her skateboard and high fives Mituna.

Porrim's basically the only dancestor who grew as a person so I think she mostly escapes unscathed.

Latula gets chased around by Sollux and Aradia, who basically just bully her for being bad at games. This is a date to them.

Gamzee completely refutes Kurloz, with his newfound clarity about the real miracle being friendship and the real dark carnival being the world he and his friends will build, not that LE noise.

In a double team between Terezi and Rose, Meulin gets eviscerated for the way her own Issues have made her ships deliberately awful, that she could have simply Not, and she has a bit of a breakdown.

As Feferi is grappling with her privilege and internalized casteism, Cronus wanders up to try and hit on her, and she goes "oh my god... when people look at me, are you what they see? A friendless loser that nobody likes? A total waste of seawater who's only pretending to be cool with the lower castes? A totally fake poser? 38(" Cronus just goes "..." and starts crying and Feferi ends the convo oblivious to that, just going "wow... thanks for talking with me! really gave me a lot to think about" imagine how funny it would be -

Karkat finds and talks to (Eridan), where he fully admits to missing the guy. His mopiness is so extreme that (Eridan) takes issue with it and punches him, before basically yelling at him to get his shit together. Karkat then yells at HIM for him to get HIS shit together, and they both leave, intent on getting their shit together.

We also get an update on Vriska and Meenah at this point, where Meenah is starting to seem more into how they totally ditched their responsibilities than Vriska is.

So the thing with this update is that most of the trolls have sorted their shit out; even Karkat has had a lot of introspection about how he really just fucking loves his friends and should have been more honest about it, not worried so much about appearing weak or lame. With the double Aradias in play to kind of handwave that the timeline will be stable because they're ensuring all loops get completed and all necessary conversations happen, and with everyone's successful relationships on display, we can kind of truncate the next leg of the journey:

Karkat Fixes Everything

Karkat is the Friendship Troll. Karkat is the Romance Troll. Karkat is the Bonds troll. He is their team's Blood player, and as the Blood player, he's been shown to deeply love all of his fucking friends - yes, even the assholes. Maybe even especially them.

As such, it's vitally important for the last push - last leg of the journey - to belong to Karkat. Where would our Blood player be without his bonds? Well, we actually have the answer to that. It's knocked out and prevented from joining in any of the important boss battles. LAME!

So in the last retcon, Karkat hears from Nepeta about the retcons that have been happening, and he really starts digging through his own past. If every retcon so far has been each troll only feeling comfortable undoing their own personal mistakes, then what of the guy who feels personally responsible for everything, all the time, forever?

Look, I'm not saying that a shipping chart saves Homestuck, but... by the time this last retcon is through, every Alternian troll is alive and god tiered. And he is dating Eridan.

If you have any questions about him dating Eridan, please refer to the link above. That essay is nearly as long as this one. There's SO MUCH FUCKING FORESHADOWING.

I don't think the god tiering needs to be explained, because if we hear that Karkat basically made his past self a shipping chart, and we've seen everybody's character development as they've gone through this journey, and we have Aradias on timeline duty and Nepeta with memories of past retcons and her alternate selves, I think we can more or less gloss over exactly how they go about earning their wings while maintaining timeline integrity. The important thing is that Karkat is dating Eridan now.

Because that leads to the last few bits of dream bubble stuff, but before we get into that...

Miscellaneous Plot Things That Need To Happen But I Don't Know Where To Put Them

Yeah there's just some ideas that I have floating around that need to be placed somewhere but IDK exactly where, or exactly how they shake out.

Hal becomes a real boy. And by that I mean as part of their character development, Jake makes Hal "real" a la brain ghost Dirk, and then the rest of them have to scramble against the clock (Jake's ability to maintain Hal's realness) to god tier him and make his existence permanent. He's a Sylph of Mind, which allows him to negate Condy's mind control. And maybe a GCATboy?

(Tavros) becomes the new leader of the ghost army.

Davesprite winds up dead at some point in the bubbles and doesn't explain how he died, but he and (Dave) get to fight each other and hash out their Realness and Relevance issues, before facing their final boss fight as bros once more.

Jade and Nepeta get to talk, and Nepeta gives Jade the reassuring speech about Ultimate Selfhood and how she won't be lonely forever. Maybe it's flushed. Might leave it ambiguous.

Somebody needs to auspicetize Dirk and Jake holy shit. Dunno who. Maybe Karkat, but I kind of like him pitch with Dirk, so IDK really.

Dad needs to die. Sorry Dad. If I can find a way to kill off all of the sprites besides ARquiusprite, I will. It's explicitly stated that sprites are drawn to the battlefield during the Reckoning, presumably to die, as part of the coming-of-age themes - losing one's guardians. It's sad but it's gotta happen.

All the Godtier!Calliope stuff basically happens as-is.

Can you tell I need to do more research on the alpha kids...

Ok Back To Karkat And Eridan

I think I'm going to leave their moirallegiance fairly ambiguous, but when Eridan is brought back, he and Karkat are basically together all the time. Karkat's signals are mixed even on the best of days, so I don't know how easy it'll be to tell that these two assholes slinging death threats at each other are pale, but *I* will know, and that's what matters.

This leads to the last two dancestor takedowns:

Karkat and Eridan (mostly Eridan) round on Kankri. Eridan calls him SO MANY SLURS. The fact that Karkat not only condones this, but is DATING ERIDAN, kind of makes Kankri lose it a bit.

(Karkat) and (Eridan), who have reconciled in the bubbles, finally find (Vriska) and Meenah. (Karkat) gives the two of them the speech that retcon!Vriska gave (Vriska) in the comic's original ending, but this time around, (Vriska) actually agrees with him. This serves as a conclusion to (Karkat) and Meenah's arc, and causes Meenah to feel so bad that she walks back to the other dancestors in shame, as (Vriska) leaves with him with the treasure to finally fight LE.

When Meenah returns to the dancestors, the first one she finds is Aranea, who's really sad about her own little escapade, blaming herself for the way Game Over went. This prompts Meenah to go, no, it was probably my fault, shouldn't have let you run off like that. And this would, from all the sobbing dancestors, prompt a string of "no, I'm the reason we failed"s, eventually culminating in Meenah rallying them together to do one last good thing before everyone gets sucked into the black hole and go join the fight against LE. Everyone agrees.

(Gamzee) is revived by the life players and cursed with immortality, so he can go on to become LE and complete that time loop. He is immediately locked in the fridge. This is also why he can't fucking die no matter what you do to him.

This also leads us into the final boss fights.

VS. CONDY

The twelve trolls. The Condesce represents tyranny, the worst aspects of the trolls' old society, and as such, is most thematically taken down by them. While she did fuck up the alpha kids' lives, too, I just personally think it's so much more thematic and satisfying to watch her be beaten down by the trolls.

VS. THE THREE JACKS

The eight kids plus Hal plus Davesprite. With Bec Noir specifically, it's fucking PERSONAL, as this guy killed their parents. This is where Dave fulfils his destiny of killing an iteration of English with his sword, when he decapitates Jack English; the person in the middle of that sandwich is Davesprite, which is how he dies and winds up in the bubbles. The iteration of Jack that survives to date Ms. Paint is Spades Slick, as he's the most sympathetic out of all of them and didn't kill anybody's parents.

At some point during this fight, I like the idea that they get zapped away by Jack English, John zaps them to the Godtier!Caliborn fight where he gets sealed in the juju, and then we cut back to the fight with Jack English, where, inexplicably, they all zap right back in.

VS. THE FELT

The spares - ARquiussprite, (Gamzee) in the fridge (who has since been revived by the life players and blessed/cursed with eternal life so he can go on to fulfill his role in the timelines and become part of LE), Dad, and the other sprites (if any of them are left alive).

VS. LORD ENGLISH

The GameOver!crew, the ghost army, the dancestors (they have a Big Damn Heroes moment right near the end, buying Jake time to deploy the Weapon), Aradiabot, and Davesprite.

Jake fulfills his destiny to defeat the Lord of all Angels by being the one to deploy the weapon, which deposits the beta kids, who knock LE in to the black hole. They then zap out of there, collecting the alpha kids from after the Caliborn fight, and zap back to the fight with the Jacks.

This specific configuration of boss battles winds up leaving Lord English entirely up to dead characters, who are then implied to all eventually get sucked into the black hole - their memories to live on through the living characters via Ultimate Selfhood, which only Nepeta achieves on screen, but implies that they will all achieve eventually.

It's important to me that the GameOver!crew is the one leading the fight against Lord English, as they're the ones who were the most screwed over by LE and his machinations - manipulated into killing each other, used as servants of his will, dying ignobly in a doomed timeline filled with special stardust. Meanwhile, the retcon!kids and trolls prove what they've learned - about compassion, kindness, equality, and forgiveness - by beating the shit out of the Condesce, who represents the horrors of Alternia, and the Jacks, especially Bec Noir and Jack English - the latter of which is a shadow of what Lord English represents - immaturity, cruelty, hatred - and the former of which is a culmination of all the failures they committed to get to this point, a symptom of their universal cancer.

I wrote a little snippet of Aradia once, and I think I'll use that to end this essay:

(ARADIA): ok now that we are all done being stupid (ARADIA): im sure enough people here remember the plan that i dont need to explain it again (ARADIA): so instead i just wanted to say (ARADIA): leave your backs to us and face forward without fear (ARADIA): the dead and irrelevant will slay the demon of double death while you unmake the threats of the living (ARADIA): and personally i think it's very fitting that he will perish here as nothing more than a bad dream (ARADIA): this will be the last time we see each other (ARADIA): so on behalf of everyone that you are going to be leaving behind (ARADIA): live (ARADIA): and be happy!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 20 thoughts

dare i say it, once again… new favorite episode??

okay, my previous favorite episode was an ENTIRELY different direction from this one, but i’d say there should be one best episode for serious stuff and one best episode for the silly!!! and this takes the silly crown!! and tbh i can't make an actual hard and fast rating anyway because there are so many great things to choose from- but this is amongst them, for me, in terms of legendary episodes!

please, join me on this ride, which i enjoyed each second of, and will need to someday rewatch without pausing every 0.5 seconds to jot something i noticed down. the live experience begins beneath the cut.

it’s been 84 years…. (3 days since i’ve seen an episode)

ooo, this sounds interesting! is scully going to work with an author?? are we gonna learn more about the things that she reads?? this is prime content to a person like me

stars…. space ship….. filled with tubes and wires and other such things…… just kidding!!! it’s a guy working on some electrical stuff. whilst two people drive by!! i thought they were mulder and scully at first but they are not

“um, i don’t want to scare you, but i think i’m madly in love with you” says this guy who is not mulder but actually named harold to this girl who is not scully but is actually named chrissy. OH! and this is the first date. so that was a weird thing to say. i thought it was quite sweet at first but that changes things for sure.

GASP! UFO be upon them. creatures are coming out to get them. she asks what they are and he says “how the hell should i know?” ooo ooo i know! they are aliens 👽 and then the two fall on top of each other like they are knocked out… and the aliens drag them away???? 

until a king kong looking fellow rolls up. very puppet-y. and the aliens don’t know what this creature is either!!! and also ask what that thing is and the response is “how the hell should i know?” haha i see what you did there... out aliening the alien

bum bum bum bum…. (<- my attempt at recreating the noise of the intro)

now, what was that? i'm stuck on the king kong and godzilla love child puppet….

scan up on mulder’s iconic poster!!! and a guy is here who is yet again not mulder. his name is mr. chung and mulder will NOT talk to him… oooh, what is their beef…?

mr. chung is saying he always felt alienated on this planet, who can even imagine actual aliens! and he has a point there.

oh! scully is a big fan of this fellow, which is why she agreed to talk to this guy!!! he calls her beautiful, which is true, but time and place 

so he isn’t even interested in aliens, but his publisher said he should write a book on the matter. he is going to create a NEW genre: non fiction science fiction, a gimmick that will give him money. this seems somewhat disappointing to scully, who must be a believer in artistic integrity, but i find his honesty refreshing.

she wants him to tell the truth, but apparently he spent 3 months in kass county where all this stuff went down, and NO ONE could tell him what actually happened. the truth is just as subjective as reality. which sounds like something i learned in history class. and, it helps explain why everyone with an alien story starts with some variation of, "i know this sounds crazy, but"...

so he wants HER version of hearing of the case. also he touches her arm and... let's slow down a little there, mr. chung.

OHHH we are seeing a story told in flashbacks!!!! narrated by scully!! how wonderful!!!

this girl is suffering from “missing time”, a phenomenon we have come to know well here on this blog. also her clothes are inside out and she has signs of abuse. not looking great for her.

apparently mulder prefers the term “abductee” to “experiencer”, which mr. chung has valid disagreements with. we go on, however.

this poor girl is seeing aliens that are not there and her nose is bleeding. WAIT! it’s the guy from before! harold and chrissy! he comes to her window to say he did everything he could but she rejects him, thinking he had drugged and assaulted her. yikes.

harold is testifying that he was abducted by aliens, but no one believes him. he stuck to his story UNTIL our agents arrived!

(MULDER SAYS SOMETHING VERY OUT OF POCKET HERE ABOUT GOING TO PRISON BUT LET'S KEEP MOVING)

despite this announcement of presumed prison time, mulder brings chrissy in for questioning. asking her if she has all the symptoms of “post abduction disorder”, which she confirms, while scully rolls her eyes with great force in the background. and he talks the girl’s parents into letting her do hypnosis.

“what is your opinion of hypnosis?”, mr. chung asks scully, which is something i also have been dying to know! i mean, we saw her do a little bit before, but it didn’t seem to be a positive experience. she says it has therapeutic value, but has never been proven to enhance memory; it even makes memory worse. a very balanced and doctor-ly answer! 

LMAO scully is so cute… mr. chung mentions another book he wrote and she proclaims it “one of the greatest thrillers ever written” <- STOP I LOVE HER SHE IS SUCH A NERRRRD 😭😭

mr. chung said the FBI knew nothing about how hypnosis worked back during the MK ULTRA days… and he is fascinated by the idea of a person’s consciousness being transformed by listening to words. admittedly very fascinating! you could probably say the same about meditation, no?

(but he speaks to the power of storytelling, i realize now in hindsight! how we find ourselves wrapped up in the tales of things that never happened, how it fills us with sorrow or joy! how fascinating! i see what you did there, writers!)

cutscene to hypnotizing chrissy. who is seeing aliens. she is on a space ship wearing a fit that looks very similar to a lady gaga chromatica era performance, but it has tubes attached to her. harold is in a very similar contraption!!!!

she says the aliens are arguing without moving their mouths and she hears the lead alien in her head saying it’s for the good of her planet. and he is stealing her memories? um. for what purpose...

scully is serving looks in the corner while this goes down, looking mad as hell and very good. she says chrissy's abduction story seems a little TOO typical… and i have to agree! but mulder says no, there are TWO people with the same story! they can't both be lying, surely!

LMAOOOO they play with censoring the dude who comes in and yells at them… “well, of course he didn’t actually say ‘bleeped’” 

(BAHAHA i’m loving this insight into how scully’s memories operate. so this angry man is named detective manners)

“you still gonna hold the boy?” “oh, you bet your blankety-blank bleep i am” <- i am a simple woman, and an actor delivering these lines with a straight face whilst surrounded by other actors keeping a very straight face is going to make me cackle. look at her looking so bored while he says that. i’m howling!!!!

anyway, harold has a very different story on what went down that night, that did not seem to involve gaga-inspired fits, but instead they were both placed in electrified cages. while another alien in a nearby cage smokes a cigarette. he seems to be what i would call “an unbothered king”

in this story, harold claims that he will protect chrissy and never let anything happen to her, and of course something immediately happens to her while he hides in the corner like a baby. lmao.

and this alien is talking in english! not telepathically! he keeps repeating “this is not happening” until harold ALSO gets taken by the thing that took chrissy. 

mulder is trying to figure out what is going on, but his predictions aren’t lining up with what happened to harold. scully is pacing and looking pissed, and again, very pretty.

“you know when you’re a kid, and you tore the legs off a bug for no reason?”, asks harold (cutscene to mulder’s face with visible confusion) LMAOOOOOOO

scully getting to business: did you engage in consensual sexual intercourse that night? she is not messing around! she's had it up to here with the shenanigans of harold and chrissy!

harold is very very quiet until he says that her father will kill him if he finds out!!! gasp!!! confirmation!!!

so is this whole story just… a cover up??? for fornication???

scully vs mulder time. “so what if they’re having sex?” he asks, which is funny coming from him; and anyway, he claims it happened BEFORE the alien stuff went down. but she thinks they’re traumatized, and that is more likely than alien abduction. 

until detective manners bursts in and claims he has an eyewitness to what went down! he used more blanks and bleeps and again the straight faces killllll me

and ALL OF THEM telling their stories start with “i know how crazy this all sounds” just as mr. chung had described LMAOOO. now who tf is this dude who says he was an eyewitness?

(i’m taking soooo many notes because i keep laughing and noting things. which is a good problem to have!)

this dude, named roky, spent 48 hours straight writing down what he saw, and said that by looking at this, they are putting their lives in danger. so okay. better be juicy.

he says his garage door opened up, a car pulled in, and a man told him some facts about venus. he says they put him in a trance! and that they were in all black……

mr. chung says that myths of men in black garments are nothing new!!! so take THAT, men in black legends, you are one of many.

back at roky's place, the other dude in black says jimmy carter thought he saw a UFO once, but it was just venus. roky is scandalized, grabs his paper, and states that he is a REPUBLICAN.

(omg jimmy carter is going to be 100 in a few months god willing…..)

this man in black is saying that roky saw VENUS and nothing else, just VENUS. and not to tell anyone he saw anything but VENUS or he will die. and then the car drives away. 

so after that build up, he gives mulder the manuscript, and says he is packing up and leaving. bye bye roky. hope you find some peace.

mulder is reading this story to scully who is sprawled on the bed, looking, again, angry and hot. it seems he is describing that earlier puppet-y action.

oh! roky was the electrical guy from the very beginning!!! he hides in his truck but the king kong looking fellow says “be not afraid” and that he is needed for the good of the earth? what is with the good of the earth here.

cutscene to a very baffled looking scully laying in bed as mulder continues to read LMAOOOOOO

AND ROKY’S STORY SAYS HE WENT NOT TO OUTER SPACE, BUT INNER SPACE HELPPP!!!! now, inner space is towards the core, if you, like me, were unaware. also, king kong godzilla dude’s name is Lord Kinbote, so jot that down.

mr. chung says he has a copy of roky’s manifesto- which was sent to his publisher? and LMAOOO the story is disturbing both for its soul orgy scenes and the fact that it is written as a screenplay 

well, surely your partner didn’t believe any of it, mr. chung states! “mulder’s had his share of peculiar notions” is scully's carefully worded reply... LMAOOO 

cutscene to her sitting up from the bed and calling him nuts <- LMAOOOOO but HE says that whatever roky saw may have triggered some delusions, and that the only story that doesn’t add up is chrissy’s, so he is calling to get her re-hypnotized, much to scully’s indignation!

so back to the hypnosis. and chrissy is now mirroring harold's story exactly. oh! she says the people who took them are from the air force?? so where did the gaga slay outfits go... 

the air force men are arguing in front of her. and then they say to “rinse her out”. saying it is for the good of her country. and stealing her memories!

so WHO is doing the real memory stealing here….. the aliens or the government?? an age old question!!! one that is at the heart of this series.

scully and mulder fight over what is going on, and he thinks that this might have nothing to do with aliens, until detective manners shows up with news that a crazy blankety blank claims to have an ALIEN BODY!!

(what if it’s a raccoon with mange…)

again, the man recounting this story begins with “i know how crazy this is going to sound”, but then says he wants to be abducted by aliens. well! i’m sure that’s a sexual thing i don’t care to unpack.

cutscene to mr. chung interviewing this same man, who wishes to go where finding a job is not a requirement. he was looking in a field for UFOs. and when he called the authorities upon spotting one, the agents show up!!

he says that scully was a man dressed as a woman but not pulling it off??? RUDE AS HELL! jail for 10,000 years. "HER HAIR WAS A LITTLE TOO RED, YOU KNOW?" LMAOOOOO and mulder was the “tall, lanky one” with a blank expression. well yeah that is an accurate depiction.

AND ACCORDING TO THIS GUY'S ACCOUNT, WHEN MULDER SEES THE BODY, HE SHRIEKS LIKE A STARTLED SQUIRREL I’M CRYINGGGG. so scully says to wrap this body up!

BUT THEN SHE GRABS HIM AND SAYS TO NEVER TELL ANYONE HE SAW THIS I’M CRYINGGGG... that had to be such a silly scene to film 

okay, seeing the part about subjective truths now. this is so funny... why is this loser making scully a hater in his version!!!

she’s PISSED to hear he claims she said this LMAOOO and that is ridiculous!! they even let him view the autopsy!!

so mulder takes this weirdo’s camera and records the autopsy?? scully cuts his brain open. and the tape ends up on late night television LMAOOOO

SCULLY IS SO EMBARRASSED THAT SHE IS ON THIS ALIEN HOAX AUTOPSY TAPE... I’M CRYING SOMEONE SAVE HER!!! and the host of whatever show they end upon is STUPENDOUS YAPPI FROM THE CLYDE BRUCKMAN EPISODE!!!! i'm howlingggg

she’s mad that whoever got the film edited out all the important scientific findings!!! like the two layers of skin!!!

wait. it’s a zipper. this is a dead guy in an alien suit. LMAOOOOOOOOO

the weird UFO cameraman kid is ill after realizing it was an ordinary dead guy, and scully looks deeply pained as he runs away to get sick LMAOOO

so: who is this dead guy? he was in the air force! and his name is robert. but who arrives but more people from the air force!! are they here to bury him?? or question the agents…

the folks from the air force want robert back, so she has to break the news that he is dead, and being kept for investigation into kidnapping. can they see him? scully is like yeah sure but mulder says no!!! but you CAN talk to the other AWOL guy we brought in. GASP!! a bluff!!! and it works!! from this they learn there is another missing guy!

LMAOOOO except it doesn’t go as smoothly as intended, and mulder is all “hmm he was here a few minutes ago… guess he’s still AWOL… anyway wanna see the body?” I’M CRYING THIS MANNNN IS SO RIDICULOUS 

but bad news: the body is gone. 

cameraman UFO guy is sitting on his floor watching the autopsy tape. when in bursts… the men in black from the earlier garage scene!!!! they knock him out. 

he claims mulder slapped him back to reality. and that he ALSO threatened him... me when i lie.

so mulder doesn’t have the tape. but when he drives home a fully naked man is walking about in the woods. it’s the other missing lieutenant, jack!! he is repeating “this is not happening” in the same voice as the alien as before!!!!! HUH WHAT IS GOING ON?

mulder takes jack to eat. he claims to have piloted the "UFO", and that all the abductions are military stuff, and at the base the abductees are messed with mentally, until they come out convinced they were probed by aliens. 

well okay, if its all the government, than what abducted YOU, jack? he isn’t sure about anything at all anymore, even if he exists. until who walks in... but the military!!

wait, mulder points out, it can’t all be fake- who was the third alien? jack seems to know him by name- lord kinbote. HUH?

and mr. chung heard a story about that same night from the cook at the restaurant! apparently mulder ordered sweet potato pie? huh, that’s interesting. and he kept ordering more and more pies with each question he asked the chef. LMAOOOO I just KNOW that scene was hard to film!!!! scenes where people eat always make me wonder how many times they had to have that damn bite of pie. 

but he claims there was no jack, nor any air force personnel at all. just a hungry mulder. again, so what is the truth...

mr. chung points out that scully doesn’t seem too phased to learn about all the contradictions in this story, and she says well no, not after what happened next. because when he got back to the motel, the men in black were in her room, going through her stuff! they claim she went to get some ice. he’s got 'em at gunpoint, screaming WHERE IS SHE!!! all protective, okay i see you. but she really did go to get some ice???

okay… man in black says that some alien encounters are engineered by the government and then exposed to discredit truth seekers. and mulder counters, well, people say the men in black also do purposefully strange things, so that anyone describing them sounds crazy! they proceed to… try and hypnotize him?

BUT IT’S ALEX TREBEK WHO IS DOING THE HYPNOTIZING???? LMAOOOOO HAS HE BEEN THE QUIET MAN IN BLACK THIS WHOLE TIME??

mr. chung is GAGGED, and wants to know if it WAS alex trebek, but sadly scully cannot confirm, for has no memory of this!! 

she woke up the next morning to mulder in her room….? and mr. chung is also gagged to hear this. me too tbh like did he just sleep on the couch? well we know that is how he sleeps at home so i guess i'm not shocked.

mulder’s trying to explain that she didn’t just "let him in" last night, but detective manners calls and says they found a bleeping UFO.

and what is it but…. a plane!! a secret plane!! and who are they carrying away on stretcher but the missing airmen, jack and robert???? SO HOW DID THEY DIE!

mr. chung puts his pen down, baffled, and scully points out that this story may not have a lot of closure, but it’s more than some of their other cases, which is funny because it is true. and she’s playing with her earrings and it’s so cute.

cutscene to mr. chung typing at his place. until a shadow approaches and he holds a tiny gun!!!! he is ready for a showdown but it’s… mulder at the door?

WAIT how does chung recognize him… did scully show him pictures i'm crying

mulder is in chung's apartment, asking him to not write the book, because it will do a disservice to a field that has always struggled to maintain credibility. we can’t understand these alternate realities yet!!! well. compelling argument... but mr. chung needs a paycheck. 

OH! and mulder suspects that the book is a “covert agenda” of the military industrial complex. always theories upon theories with this guy...

mr. chung says the book WILL be written, but he needs an explanation from mulder: what really happened to those kids on that night?

his answer: how the hell should i know?

(it was so perfect, i thought the episode would end right here)

mr. chung says he has deadlines, and mulder looks very sad, very previously neglected shelter dog rizz, and walks out. back to mr. chung’s furious typing. 

okay, so the cameraman now works for the electrical company roky worked for. because roky moved to california, preaching on purification and the inner earth and core enlightenment. right right right makes sense.

cutscene to scully reading the finished book by mr. chung!!! she is fictionalized as “diane” who is “noble of spirit and pure of heart” but “nevertheless a federal employee” LMAOOOO

and mulder is “renard muldrake” LMAOOOOO that is such a funny name... he's watching something in bed shirtless as his fictionalized self is being described- “a ticking time bomb of insanity” AND HE’S WATCHING THE BIGFOOT TAPES BAHAHAHAHA

chrissy now is an environmental advocate and harold still loves her but it isn’t required. aww harold :(

mr. chung ends by saying that we are not alone in this universe, but in our own way, we are all alone.

NEW BEST EPISODE CONTENDER???

this feels like one of those posts where people make up a bunch of information and then it all gets proven wrong so it is described as a "net zero information gain" bahaha

but don't get me wrong, i don't fully understand what happened, but i loved it. i was laughing, i was enjoying seeing the subjectivity of one story to the next, i was enjoying scully and chung time, and despite all the silly, we still got clues on the whole "is it aliens or the government" thing. and sure, maybe it doesn't make immediate sense, but you have to ponder these matters to learn what is at their heart!

so what DID we learn? well, some alien cases might be the government! but i guess that is still a "might", so maybe we can't truthfully say we LEARNED it. we learned that scully is a big fan of mr. chung!!! we learned that mulder is fiercely protective of his line of work from all his years of being ridiculed! and that he watches the famous bigfoot tape for fun and also maybe like sweet potato pie? it was unconfirmed.

i really enjoyed the playing with perspective, seeing how one character saw things, and then another. and seeing mulder and scully threaten that dweeb was so funny because it was so out of character and had to be silly to shoot.

and i thought it was impressive how it managed to tie back to the big alien and government mystery while still making me laugh so hard. how many past episodes can be analyzed through the lens of certain things being faked for exposure? and what REALLY happened to those airmen? we still don't know if mulder's convo with jack even happened! and we never will!

i came to appreciate the company of mr. chung immensely, even though i thought he was gonna be creepy after calling scully beautiful and touching her arm, but i suppose that he was just a genuinely sweet fellow. you can't blame me for being suspicious after some of the things she gets put through, but i'm sure that if i picked one of his books off the shelf, i, like scully, would be a fan.

overall, i am deeply pleased, and would love to give this a rewatch sometime when i am not taking notes so i could appreciate the pacing in more detail. man, season 3 has really been killing it, huh? and i'm nearing the end!!

[smokeys-house]

The Cane King's Daughter

⭐️Art by @sator-the-wanderer, story by @smokeys-house ⭐️

⭐️Also available on ao3!⭐️

✨️Part two TCKD: A Story for Another Time available here✨️

Storms at sea are no rare occurrence. Squalls that sweep ships to their sides may be daunting, but no more so than the tumult of the lives of all folk, land or sea. Captain Whetstone, a self made pirate born on the coast of France, has made rather a name for herself. A large and fluffy brown moomin, she grew up hearing the stories of a free life at sea. 

She sat wide upon a chair in the cabin of her ship. The strain of a pirate's life wore heavily upon her brow. The early days were rife with plunder and excitement, raucous laughter and cheers. She'd made it, or so she would've thought. She'd got the merry life she'd wanted, as for whether it'd be a short one would be up to the rule of law. 

'Perhaps I've been at it too long.' the captain thought to herself. She sighed aloud, staring into the vanity mirror as if looking past herself. "Rouse yerself. Yer a captain, not some layabout on a fishing trip." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and made for the deck. She'd grown weary of taking scores and the thrill of living on the run.

The crew still aboard The Honeyed Word were working diligently; hauling crates to and from the port, maintaining the ship, or otherwise making themselves useful. Marseille was bustling, lively, and lousy with merchant ships. The local law, while concerned about piracy, were not so eager to challenge those engaged in its splendors. Collecting a bribe was practically by the books in Marseille. It wasn't the pirate haven of Nassau, but at least here she could try to lie low for a while. 

The salted sea air mingled nicely with the smell of cookery and the commotion of working sailors as the captain made rounds amongst what crew remained on deck. 

"Cap'n." A grizzled old hemulen woman wiped the sweat from her brow. "Most of the crew 'ave headed into town. I assume you can simply follow the ruckus if ye be needing to find them." Her voice was coarse and thick, but with a sense of duty. 

"As it happens, I fear I may be in search of drink myself." The captain shielded her eyes from the sun with her paws. "Keep an eye on things for me while I'm gone." 

"Promise me ye don't be up to nothin' foolish. I seen that bored look you been wearin'."

"No foolishness here, Ruthie. Just a quick nip, and maybe a rest in a bed what ain't rollin' on the waves." She patted the hemulen woman on the back with a hearty thud, to which she chuckled mirthfully.

The way into town was fraught with people of all classes and lifestyles; merchants, traders, sailors, simple common folk, rich and poor. Marseille was a well populated city, and drew in people from all over. The captain trod a familiar path to her preferred local pub, one of the few she hadn't been run out of in recent memory. Despite the relative ease with which she carried herself, being spotted by knowing eyes would likely spell trouble, or at the very least more excitement than she was looking for. 

"Didn't think I'd see you in here again, after last time." The barkeep didn't look up from polishing his glass. 

"I'm not sure I remember the last time. Much to see around these parts I'm afraid, sometimes too much." She eyed a table of navy men in the corner as she approached the counter. It was a clean establishment, not necessarily upscale, but it did at least serve the more well-to-do in days long since passed. The place was littered with well crafted furniture and gave an air of high status, but the clientele quickly dimmed the illusion. The velvets adorning curtains and chairs had all faded, and some were torn in spots. 

"What'll you have, Whetstone?"

"That'll be captain Whetstone from you. Pour me anything what ain't rum n' cask-water, and you can call me whatever you like!" The two shared a laugh as the bartender filled two tankards with ale. 

"Word on the street is your boys are already wreaking havoc. Half my usual patrons have made themselves scarce. You've only been in town a couple of days I thought, but from the way folks are talking I would've thought the devil himself had popped up on our doorstep, and made himself at home." 

"Oh, how lovely." Whetstone sighed and eagerly watched the man pour. "I'd have thought by now the folks 'round here would've been dreadfully bored by that sort of thing." She paid for the two drinks and clinked glasses with the bartender. "Not like the navy men do it any different while docked. We're all fixin' t' crack Jenny's teacup!"

"Aye, but your 'Jenny' is more often than not someone else's 'Sally', ye damn dog."

Whetstone raised a finger as she drank deep from her mug. "So long as she's not your Sally I'd say I'd done no wrong. Not my fault no navy men know how to keep a woman in good spirits!" She had a charismatic and an almost musical way of speaking, it was as though everything she said was a line in a play.

"And how might that be, oh great and wise slayer of maidens?" 

"Spirits!" She motioned to the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, sharing a hearty cheer with a few eavesdropping barflies. 

"And what might it be that brings you to Marseille once more?"

"Naught but the wetting of m' whistle and the tireless search fer comp'ny I reckon. I'm not quite so sure, I think I just wanted t' see yer ugly mug once more!"

She spent a few coins and hours there, seemingly wasting the day away. She knew that she wasn't searching for much of anything, and that she was simply tired of the hardships she'd chosen for herself. 'What use is a free life if I can't live it quietly?' She thought. 'All the excitement out t' sea, and all I'm wanting fer is a quiet day indoors.' Perhaps she'd grown weary of her trade, but taking a day for herself surely wasn't what you'd expect if you'd heard the stories about her. 

"That's her right over there. The glum looking gal in the coat." Whetstone's musings were interrupted by murmurs rolling like thunder into jeers. The calm if somewhat gruff environment quickly became rife with tension.

"Seems our mutual friends have spotted a familiar fiend." The barkeep kept his paws busy, still cleaning glasses from patrons past. The captain appeared more tired by the idea than worried, propping herself up on the bar with her arms. 

"You've got some nerve. Swingin' your snout 'round here like it weren't still smellin' of my girl's perfume." The hemulen navy man tucked one thumb into his belt as he approached, glancing over his shoulder back to his fellows. 

" 'fraid I haven't seen your girl since she were someone else's. Last I checked, and likely still, she belonged to herself. Let's keep our paws in our pockets, shall we?" 

"She seems t' think quite highly of you." His words were dripping with venom as he looked the captain up and down. He either had a chip on his shoulder or something to prove. "Turn 'n face me you bilgerat. I'm fixing to see what she thinks is so special!" 

"Quiet over there!" A younger fillyjonk man spoke up from the corner, his face mostly obscured by a hat tilted over it. "Some of us are trying to drink in peace."

"What's it to you, boy? Shut yer gob afore I shut it for you!" The navy man leading the group continued to shout, tensions rising among the men behind him. He grabbed the captain by the collar of her coat. "Don't think even for a second I've not seen your face on them posters. Teachin' you a lesson and gettin' paid for it? Price on you's enough to split with these boys and then some." 

The captain's eyes darted to and fro, seeking any opportunity to turn this around. The navy men must've numbered at least a dozen in total, all surrounding her. Them aside, patrons flanked them on all sides, acting as likely obstacles. Just as the situation was looking its grimmest, a near full glass flew across the room, finding its target to be the head of the man nearest Whetstone. 

That one thrown drink began a large-scale brawl encompassing the entirety of the bar. The glass distracted the leader of the pack long enough for Whetstone to throw the first punch, square in the snout. The rest of the navy men, unable to tell the shouting of patrons from aggressors, and unable to tell who threw the cup, tore through the establishment. Skirmishes filled every corner of the room.  The bartender calmly ducked into a room just behind the bar as it all began to unfold. The captain danced among the crowd, dodging blows and delivering them herself. 

"This way!" Beckoned the be-hatted fillyjonk man, motioning to the alley entrance he was holding open. Whetstone fought her way through the flinging of paws at maws and more thrown drinks, toward the only friendly face in sight. 

Just then, the bartender returned from the storage room behind the counter with a flintlock rifle and pistol in tow. He fired the musket straight into the ceiling, the boom overcoming the sound of the raucous crowd. For a moment, everyone stopped. 

"Out of my bar." He spoke quite plainly, as though it were simply closing time. The navy men stopped their brawling and regained focus, looking about the room for their previously cornered quarry.

"Over there! After her, boys!" The sailors that still stood gave chase, stumbling over chairs and glasses underfoot. 

In all the excitement, the captain had only just made it to the door when the gun went off. Her and her new acquaintance darted alley to alley, their pursuers forcing them through markets and over fences. Though the chase felt to them as intense as any they'd ever seen, it must have been quite the sight to see that many drunkards speedily shambling across town.

The shouting got further and further away, and luckily the throngs of the afternoon crowd began filling the streets once more. If it weren't for the simple fact that the captain hadn't been at the bar for as long as the rest of them, they likely would have caught up to her. She'd wisely abstained from anything too strong while in public, but a belly full of beer hardly makes for good running. With her wits mostly about her, and her ego intact, she'd made good on her escape thanks to a kind stranger. 

Soon after, the busy dockside streets and afternoon sun quickly shifted into wealthy homes and a dimming evening sunset as the two evaded their would-be captors. Once they felt they had lost their assailants, the two caught their breath and the young man calmly led Captain Whetstone to a lovely gated garden bordering the wealthier part of town. It was well kept and filled with vibrant pinks, deep purples and reds, and a sweet floral aroma mixed with the salt of the nearby sea. Ornate metal bars formed a fence, wrapping the exterior of the garden. 

"There's a greenhouse here where we can lie low. I like to come here to get lost for a while." The young man's voice shed pretense for a moment.

"Fine work, lad! And yer sure no nosy gardener's eager to do some midnight pruning?" The captain idly rubbed the petals of a nearby rose as she took in the view. "Posh bit o' living, this. Real pretty, though."

"Didn't think pirates cared for flowers. No, no one'll turn up. This square belongs to a wealthy family, used to be the daughter's. Haven't seen her around here in some time, though."

"We've all got our secrets, lad." She winked as she meandered through the garden to the greenhouse. The moon's rise baked a soft light throughout the interior. She idly rummaged through a cupboard above a potting bench. "Bless me tail! Oy, lad! They've got booze in 'ere! Some fine drink by the look of it. Supposin' the young maiden kept a few secrets, too." She snickered as she uncorked the bottle. She'd sobered a bit since her midday jog, and apparently wasn't eager to continue that trend. 

"What's your name, anyhow? Ya know mine as it seems half of Marseille does these days. Why risk yer life fer a no good pirate?"

"Well… like you said, we all have our secrets, captain."  The young fillyjonk sat upon a stool in the corner, seemingly familiar with the space. Whetstone poured a glass for herself and another for her new friend. The two shared drinks for a while, swapping idle stories late into the evening. The liquor spilled forth as did the relaxation and courage that comes with it. 

"So… you're a pirate, ay?" The man swirled his glass in his paw, not looking up from his drink. "You'd know a thing or two about fighting with a sword, then?" He stood, walking over to the potting bench near where Whetstone sat against the wall. 

"Aye, lad. I'd say I know a thing or two about swingin' a sword. What're ye gettin' at?" She steadied her eyes as they'd just begun to spin, realizing only now the risk of getting too drunk to stand with strangers about. 

"Show me." He tossed her a wooden cutlass from beneath the bench. 

"Secrets, secrets, secrets. My my my..." She caught it deftly, laying it across her lap. "I'm supposin' that's not the only thing y' be hiding from me."

"It's not, but if you beat me, I'll tell all."

"Ha, it'll take more'an that to get me into playfighting a stranger what won't say his name with a wooden toy." 

"Scourge of the seas frightened by a youngblood after just a few drinks?" He used the point of his wooden sword to lift her chin and meet his gaze. Either he'd handled his liquor better than she did, or he was far more cautious than she was.

"Now yer just testing me patience, boy." She pushed aside the sword and finished her drink, rising to her feet. "Ye won't be needing t' set terms fer if'n you win. On account of ye won't. Take the first swing." She stood straight, sword idle in her paw, in an entirely unready stance. She took in a sharp breath, and exhaled slowly. She wasn't unfamiliar with the art of the un-sober sword, but she never did like to lose. 

The man swung, overhead and diagonal to her shoulder. She tucked herself to one side as it flew past and struck the ground. 

"Slow." Captain Whetstone teased. 

He swung again, from left to right, to which she back-stepped. 

"Clumsy." She continued her barbs with a wink.

He thrust at her belly in quick succession, the first one a narrow miss, and the second intercepted by the flat of the captain's wooden blade. 

"Not bad! Once more!" She taunted, now fully engaged. Her feet planted firm and knees bent, she parried blow after blow. He sent out yet another thrust, this time aimed at her chest. 

"Out you go!" She turned his thrust to her outside line and closed in. She turned her point down, pressing the pommel to his ribs, and pushed him out of the greenhouse door into the garden with a shoulder check.

"You're toying with me! Throw a cut at least!" The fillyjonk protested, panting, but on guard after managing to avoid falling flat on his face. 

"Aye lad, I am! But here goes!" She threw a cut at a downward angle to cross his chest, or so it seemed at first. She feinted high, forcing him to guard his head and swung low, giving him a gentle tap on his thigh. "How's that?" She smirked. It was clear he was embarrassed, and perhaps a little upset. His face was red from drink, exertion, and now frustration. He threw several wild strikes out in a vain attempt to land a blow, to which she ducked several. 

"Easy, lad!" She began deflecting his blows, hoping that he'd ease up. He brought his sword up as a club with both hands, over his head, letting out a tense shout as he swung. She blocked it static and right between the two of them, holding the bind. She turned her point under and went for a disarm, tossing his sword aside. Just as soon as his sword hit the ground, as did he, with a swift push on the chest from the captain. She stood over the fillyjonk, pointing her sword at his chest. 

The fillyjonk's hat tumbled back, spilling forth long dark curls, previously tied back with ribbons that had since gone astray. The moonlight soaked into the fillyjonk's fur and hair, cascading shadows from the flowers that she had tumbled into upon onto her muzzle. The contrast between the bright blue flowers, her dark, rolling hair and the soft brown of her fur mirrored that of the shore and a stormy sea. To the captain, she was the very visage of romance. Perhaps it was the light of the moon, or the thrill of the fight, or even the blur of the booze, but she became immediately enamored.

"Well strike me pink! Hell hath no fury, eh? Now the question is, who scorned a bonny lass like you?"  The captain lowered her sword, wearing a surprised grin on her face. "I'm supposin' now would be a good time to cash in on my winnings."

The evening stretched on into night, bringing with it the still presence of the full moon and the quiet breeze carried in from offshore. The night air was cool, and just comfortably so. 

"My name's Marion." The fillyjonk acquiesced, true to her word. "Marion Cartier. It's my rum we've been spilling all night." She crossed her legs as she sat upon the cobblestone amongst the flowers. 

"And this here'd be your garden then? The daughter o' the house as you'd said it. It's beautiful." She cupped the bulb of a flower in her paw. "If yer the daughter of a wealthy family, what business had ye in a bar like that one?" 

"Same business I had in having a private garden. An escape." 

"An' what was that bit afore I pushed y' down? Figure you'd take me in fer the bounty alive after gettin' me liquor'd up?"

"No… it's not that it's just…" Marion hesitated before answering, burning with embarrassment and the rum in her belly. Eventually she settled on telling the truth. "My father was right."

Captain Whetstone sat just across from her, light-heartedly rolling her eyes. "I'm supposin' that's got a story behind it. Night's young and I've nowhere better t' be, might as well let it out."

"He'd have me fall in line or sell me off just the same. If it's not helpful to his business, it hardly matters what I want." 

"Yer a grown woman, can't ye just use all that money o' yers to get yerself a place by yer lonesome? 'S what I'd do."

"The man practically owns me. I won't see any money that doesn't sit in his paws until I take up the mantle." 

"...And the swords?" Whetstone was quick to dismiss the woes of the wealthy and continued sating her curiosity with questions. Despite the blooming feeling in her chest, she still found it difficult to feel sympathy for rich folk.

"Father fancies himself a duelist. I'm… I thought I could get to know him better if I could get him to see me." She eyed her paws, rubbing the areas hardened into calluses by many hours of practice. "Told me it wasn't worth my time to wield a sword. Told me I'd be good for nothing if it wasn't for the family business."

The captain looked over at the wooden swords lying on the ground and cocked her head to the side. "Those ain't dueling swords, lassie. That's a cutlass."

Marion's eyes stayed focused on her hands despite the captain's piercing gaze and raised eyebrow. Silence filled the space for a moment.

"I've uh… I'm not quite sure how to uhm… it's rather embarrassing, I fear. Given present company, especially."

"Spill yer beans. I've drank too much t' sleep now fer fear of hangover. An' it's far too long a night yet fer keepin' secrets. B'sides, I won, remember?" Whetstone laid up against a tree and began picking her teeth with one of her claws.

"You must promise not to laugh."

"Miss Marion, I hadn't realized we were school girls! I ain't laughin' now, but I sure could use a good'un, out with it."

"I thought I could be a pirate. Or a privateer. Something on the sea that isn't in the navy. I'd take off as a stowaway on one of my father's ships with a few good men and strike out on my own."

"If that's yer cover fer trying t' claim my bounty it sure is the most… creative ruse anyone's drummed up against me." 

"I'm not trying to claim the bounty! Even if I was, you'd have killed that dream along with the one you're stepping on now." Marion paused for a short while, composing herself. The frustration in her voice was joined ever so slightly by the sound of tears beginning to well up.  

"Ah, I'm sorry lass, but it's a mite hard to think of someone like yerself at sea… y' need more'an just a few good men and some sword swingin' skills. It's a rough life out there."

"But it's a free one. The sea keeps men honest… in a way. There's bluster, sure, like anywhere else. But the sea asks that you prove it, and I aim to." 

"Aye… ye can't lie to her none, this I know." The captain looked to the sky, feeling a flutter in her chest. She was reminded of her youth, and the first time she felt the call to the sea. Though it hadn't been too many years, most pirates don't last more than a few. "You'll find yer way. The bold ones always do." 

The conversation bled into thoughtful silence, the pair quietly ruminating on past and future. The captain balanced a near empty bottle on her knee, watching the liquor shift and roll within. She examined the label, taking in the details. A mustachioed fillyjonk gentleman wielding a bundle of sugarcane like a royal scepter sat cross-legged upon a throne also made of sugarcane. In his other paw, a coconut prepared to be a chalice. 

"Cartier's Cane King rum blend…" Whetstone continued eyeing the bottle, comparing the fillyjonk on the label with her new friend. "Tell me, what did you say yer name was again?"

–

Captain Whetstone awoke with the early afternoon sun baking into her fur upon a makeshift bed within the greenhouse she had stayed the night before. Her coat had been draped over her like a blanket, and her head was pounding. She stood and stretched, remembering the night prior. 

"I swear I fell asleep in the garden, though…" She thought aloud as she surveyed her surroundings. A note penned in fine handwriting sat upon the potting bench, and was tented neatly.

Ms. Whetstone

I should think you capable of reading seeing as you're a captain. You've given me much to think about. I've many choices to make. I apologize for leaving you unattended, but it's as I said that no one visits my garden. 

I intend to convince my father to teach me about sailing. I'll tell him it's for to learn the family business, and that ought to be enough. Of course, you and I know the reasons why well enough. The next time you see me, it might be out at sea.

I took the liberty of coaxing you into the greenhouse for a more private rest. I've a busy morning to come. 

It was a pleasure meeting you. 

-M

"Coaxed me into the..?" The captain was much too heavy to lift. She imagined Marion rolling her on her side like a big fluffy barrel as she slept. She would've been beet red if it weren't for her thick fur. She donned her coat, shook off the embarrassment, and tucked the note into her pocket. With the morning ending and the afternoon just beginning, she thought it prudent to check in with the crew and nurse her hangover with a late breakfast. 

Rumors of yesterday's excitement had reached every ear, and just as quickly sank into the sand like waves upon the shore. The king's navy almost always had reason to cause a stir and rarely did it ever go quietly, but with such frequency it joined the day's monotony. A chilled breeze and shapely dark clouds portended a storm to come, though the warmth of the sun persisted for the moment. The docks were alive as always, folks walking shoulder to shoulder, hardly taking note of one another. The cacophony of cooking, trading, buying, and selling rang through the air. The cumulative hangover was just beginning to peak as Captain Whetstone sat down to eat beneath an awning at a dockside restaurant. Through the din of the crowd, she could almost make out the song of seabirds and waves lapping on the shore. She didn't take to being in public well, but the liveliness of the docks drawing eyes off of her bought her a modicum of peace. This peace was short-lived, as a garishly overdressed fillyjonk man cut a path around him through the crowd, speaking loudly and with no lack of self-importance. He moved dramatically, as though he was performing a dance, spinning and gesturing flamboyantly.

"What fortuitous timing, you wishing to take up the family business. As it so happens, I've dealings with a gentleman from Curaçao this very afternoon!" 

"Yes, well… I was hoping to start with more on the transportation side of things. Learning to sail ships and the like. I've been doing much reading on the subject." A timid, familiar voice followed shortly after him. 

"Hmm? Oh, of course. I'm sure he'll be just as happy with that if all goes well. Regardless, Marion, how does 'Cartier's Cane King Curaçao blend' sound to you? Bold? Alliterative? Lively? Perhaps, too lively, do you think?" His exaggerated manner of speaking sounded as though all must hear. It was difficult to tell whether he was advertising to the world or simply lost within himself. 

"Who will be happy with that?" Marion rounded the corner, catching up with her father. She was dressed in deep blues, in an outfit that portrayed her wealthy standing and matched her father. The duo stopped perpendicular to the restaurant Whetstone was eating at, looking out at a few ships along the dock. 

"That one there's a wild'un." The captain nudged a nearby patron with her elbow. "Drinks like a sailor 'n aims to be one." The patron patently ignored her idle musings upon seeing they were pointed at the wealthy young woman, assuming it to be a joke with no punch line. She snorted out a quick laugh to herself when comparing Marion's current clothes to her getup the other night. She decided it best to keep her nose out of it and went about finishing her meal. 

"The gentleman from Curaçao, my dear."

"And why should it matter to him whether I learn to sail?" Marion's confusion began to mix with her growing concern. 

"Well you are to be married, after all. I should think him quite pleased to marry a sailor if he needn't a homemaker." He removed his watch from his pocket and stared impatiently at it for a moment. The watch and the fob were both silver that shone bright against the deep blues of his shimmering waistcoat. He slicked his hair back with his paw as Marion stood dumbfounded. 

"Have you no shame?! Selling your daughter off for sugar and spirits! I would think a man of your status would at least have the guts to tell his own daughter about such an arrangement prior. We're done here!" Marion balled her paws into fists, turning to walk away. Just as she turned she felt a tug at the back of her shirt. Her father pulled her back forcefully, turning her to face him. 

"We're done when I say we're done." He scolded under his breath, eyeing passersby in the hopes they hadn't seen his family matters turned public. He placed his paws upon her shoulders, holding her in place. 

"Get off me!" Marion shouted, batting his arms away and making an attempt to flee. Just as she escaped his grasp, he raised his arm high. 

Slap

Captain Whetstone looked up from her breakfast in time to see Mr. Cartier backhand Marion, who stumbled into a stack of tin plates and other dinnerware atop some crates, sending them clattering to the ground. The ruckus drew everyone's attention. Marion's father stood over her and shook his head. He took a clearly practiced stance, placing his hand disdainfully upon his brow, with the other resting on his hip. 

Whetstone shook her head as she slammed her utensils onto the table. She stood abruptly, and threw her chair to the ground as she stomped over to the scene. Without so much as a word, she raised her paw and delivered a powerful open palmed slap to Mr. Cartier's cheek. He crumpled to the ground, both from the surprise of being slapped and from the sheer force of such a large moomin. 

"I'll not have ye befoul my breakfast. Treatin' a young woman, let alone yer own daughter like that. Despicable." She spoke at him gruffly as she helped the young fillyjonk up onto her feet. Marion, awestruck and utterly confused by all of the events that had just transpired, simply stood behind Whetstone. 

"I won't.. take that… from a brute like you!" He panted as he struggled both to speak and to stand back up. 

"Aye, I imagine ye won't. And I don't be takin' nothin' from some fop exceptin' what's in his coffers. Scurry off out, ye bilgerat. I've got a devil of a hangover and I won't be wasting my time on the likes of ye."

"I'll have you arrested! Assault! Assault!" He shouted to the crowd forming around the trio. Much to his chagrin, the group seemed far more interested in seeing a pirate shake down a wealthy man than they were in coming to his aid. 

"Guards! Gendarmerie! Somebody help!" The captain mockingly shouted in a pitiful voice. She spat to the ground near the man. "You think the law around here cares? Look around you. The people who carry your crates fer a coin. The folks who you exploit. Whingeing like that only works on folk what got food in their bellies." She stepped uncomfortably close to him, looking just down on him from a head above his height. "Anything left worth sayin', or are we done here?" The man could only look back at her with glassy eyes, stunned into brief silence. 

"That's what I thought." Whetstone began to walk back to her table when she heard above the shocked whispers of the crowd, the distinct sound of a leather glove being thrown to the ground. 

"A duel. You've thoroughly disrespected me and I'll not have the Cartier name besmirched by a ruffian like yourself." 

The crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed at the prospect. More folks gathered around, wishing to see what the gathering was for.

"What? Here and now? But I 'aven't even finished breakfast." She stopped only long enough to respond as she continued her stride to her table, not even turning to face him. Her gait was immediately interrupted by another leather glove, this one being tossed directly at the back of her head. 

"A coward and a glutton! Afraid to challenge the famed fencing of Jules Cartier! I simply must laugh! Aha! Aha!" He forced out an almost theatrical laugh as he puffed out his chest. It seemed to him the world was a stage, and the thing he feared most was losing the audience. There was hardly a moment he wasn't scanning the surrounding group for approval.

"You'll be wantin' to be careful with what you say next.'' Captain Whetstone growled as she balled her paws into fists, turning to face him once more. "I didn't come to Marseille to kill a rich boy. I came to make merry and sell the scores I took from ponces like you!" She stepped in closer once more, slow and with intention. "Y' have no idea who yer talkin' to, do ya?" Her gravelly voice rumbled. 

"From the smell of it, a drunkard. And from the look of it, a buffoon!" His confidence, though shaken, had returned as he began to shake off the slap. He dabbed at his cheek with a pocket square, and straightened his jacket. 

"She's a pirate captain, father, don't do this!" Marion pleaded. 

"Quiet, Marion!" Jules snapped. "This isn't one of your storybooks!" 

"From the papers! Must you embarrass yourself at every opportunity? She's wanted and very, very dangerous!" 

Whetstone shot her a flattered, knowing look. "Ha! Did y' hear that one, Jules?" She thumped her chest before tucking her arms behind her head with a cocky smirk. "Very… very dangerous." Her gaze was piercing, albeit smug. She was practically inviting him to hit her knowing full well that he wouldn't allow himself to be seen in such a light.

"A duel! I demand it! Face me or be branded forever a coward!" Jules' obstinations were increasingly childlike. 

"As you like it, sugarboy. If I win, yer daughter goes her own way. And you pay off whatever price they got on m' head in Marseille. We fight to first blood, I'm not killing a man in front of his daughter. You let me know the time and place, Cartier. Send someone a'callin' down near this here restaurant. I'll be waitin'." The Captain parted the crowd as she passed. She righted her chair and sat back down, continuing her meal.

"Three days time. When I win, I'll be taking your bounty, and whichever rotten tub you floated in on. Live it up while you still can, Whetstone. You're about to make me even richer." 

Captain Whetstone simply waved as he made his exit, her mouth full. Jules departed, entirely forgetting his daughter and the man from Curaçao. Marion, now the sole focus of a murmuring crowd, rushed to the table her would-be savior sat at.  

"You complete and utter fool!" She slammed her paws down onto the table just across the captain. "You can't just go around inserting yourself into any old trouble you like!" 

"That's a laugh right there." She swallowed her bite. "I seem to recall someone inserting themselves into trouble on my account just the other day. She looked a lot like you, matter o' fact... Took me fer a stroll in the garden in the pale moonlight." She took her last bite and set her utensils on her plate. 

Marion slumped into a nearby chair, placing her head in her hands as the previously interested onlookers began to disperse. There were a few disappointed sighs, and life seemed to return to business as usual. 

"You've no idea what you've done. Not that you'd care if you did, seems you've no thought beyond fun and fortune." She repeatedly cleared her hair from her face, looking into the table rather than across it to the woman now responsible for her fate.

"It's only to first blood, mate. I'll give yer dear ol' dad a good scratch and a scar to remember me by, and you get to goin' on whatever it is you'd like from then on. You've seen what I can do first-hand. It won't be but a quick bout." 

"And I've seen what he can do, as well. He's a liar and a no-good cheat, but a proper duelist through and through. If you win I'll be on the street, and if he wins I'll be married off and you'll be in prison or worse in no small part on my behalf." Her brow furrowed. Her life had capsized and was now in the paws of a scruffy outlaw.

The captain took a small pouch from her belt and laid a few coins on the table near her plate, then slid the pouch over to Marion. 

"I'm sorry, lass. I just can't sit idle 'round men like him. When yer out t' sea, aboard and abroad, y' get to thinkin' all manner o' things 'bout the way folks get on… Whole lot that don't make much sense. I don't know to make a social call by now. I don't know nothin' but me own code." She took a heavy sigh, pulling a long smoking pipe from her coat and chewing on the stem. "Take that there coin and put yerself up some place nice a while. It'll be a payday fer us both 'fore it's over, I promise ye that." 

Marion sat quietly, gripping tight the pouch of doubloons. She wasn't sure what else to say, let alone what else to do. Captain Whetstone trodded off toward her ship, head full of thoughts and ache. Marion followed her not long after. 

"Something more y'need from a… how'd you put it? A 'complete fool' like me?" The moomin turned her head over her shoulder at the woman sulking just behind her.

"You are many things. A rapscallion, a scallywag, a ne'er-do-well, but I fear I spoke unfairly of you in calling you a fool. One of the many things you are now, however, is responsible for me." She sighed deeply. "Whether or not you like it."

"Yer yer own woman ain'tchya? Can go as ye please, afore at least three days are up. I don't be needin' t' look after you." She chuckled. 

"Consider it the price you pay for today's events, and my penance for yesterday's. I hardly think it wise to be anywhere my father could reach me at the moment."

"Won't be fur off my tail. Yer welcome aboard as long as you can stomach it!" She slapped her on the back, knocking her forward a bit as the duo made way to The Honeyed Word. "Hardly the worst punishment I've seen in all me days, 'avin a lass like you aboard." 

The next three days brewed a strange energy for all around. Word got out about the incident at the docks, likely in part due to Jules' boasting. It wasn't enough for him to duel and beat a lowly pirate, nor befitting of his reputation. Whetstone's wanted posters had enjoyed a fearsome makeover, at Mr. Cartier's request. She now appeared monstrous, though devilishly handsome. Her bounty was attributed to both deeds she had done, and now tales some have told. Even in opposition, the fillyjonk could not be associated with the ills and ails of a true and "ugly" world. He did not just want to restore his reputation, he wanted to cement himself as a hero by defeating a villain. Criers, newsmen, even housewives and barflies were alight and giddy over the upcoming duel. A legendary scoundrel pirate versus a noble and upstanding upper crust citizen.

Word had reached the captain's crew by now, who were mostly uneasy toward their new found glory. Being a famous criminal still makes one a criminal, and being famous makes one a target. They'd watched as their normally steadfast captain had begun fawning over a rich young lady, while showing her the ropes as it were. Their new guest had been enjoying the captain's fineries and with none of the work to earn it. The pair spent much of the three days aboard romping about clad in silk, delighting in drink and distraction alike. If it weren't for the prize of having their charges cleared and paid off by someone with deep pockets, and the captain's usually fair treatment, a mutiny might've been in order. There'd been no talk of plans, and any crew that interrupted the captain were brushed off or turned away. It seemed as though their luck would soon run out if their captain remained lovestruck.

Tensions rose onshore surrounding the Cartier business as well, but as tensions rose, so too did the profits. The money minded men of Marseille had begun buying up as much Cane King rum as suited them. Some stocked up to resell and others to enjoy, but all were buying thanks to the sudden and fervent advertising of Mr. Cartier. He'd sent out servants swinging sample trays to swill all over town. The collective drunkenness among citizens alongside the excitement of recent events made for a city wide spectacle. It seemed duels and drinks drove sales and sail alike. 

The buzz surrounding the affair became the calm before the storm on the day of. A party sent by the challenger arrived at the docks in the early afternoon along with a parade of onlookers. The usual liveliness of the harbor was instead abated by prolonged eager silence, joined only by the lapping of the waves and the stomping of boots. 

"Captain Whetstone!" A pair of whompers shouted at each ship they passed, waiting a moment before moving on to the next. They looked for her at the restaurant as she had requested, but she never arrived. The challenger's party consisted of two whompers dressed in deep blues featuring ornate silver trim, a large and muscular hemulen clad almost entirely in leather, and a nibling carrying a long red velvet box. Down the docks they shouted, and down the docks more and more onlookers followed shortly behind. 

"Captain Whetstone!" The whompers cried, over and over above the murmurs that had begun to swell. The captain, still fast asleep in her quarters, awoke with a start. 

"Who wa- is… wha..whasit you want!" She stumbled to her feet, eyes squinted, an empty bottle tumbling from atop her to the floor. She quickly realized the voice was coming from outside the ship, and fastened a robe around her waist. Marion awoke from the commotion as well, following Whetstone's lead. The pair exited the captain's quarters to the sour faces of an armed and ready crew. 

The first mate of The Honeyed Word, an older hemulen woman by the name of Ruth, spoke up from between puffs on her pipe. "I imagine that's fer you Cap'n. They've like to come a'callin' on her account." She motioned to Marion. 

"I imagine so, too, aye. Worry not, I ain't steered you lot wrong yet, 'ave I?" Whetstone winked, and made for the deck, Ruth and Marion following just behind. The mood was tense, and not all of the crew were sure of their captain's judgements as of late. She arrived at the railing, rubbing the sleep from her eyes to see dozens upon dozens of folk, all waiting on her. The leather clad hemulen, who had presumably been hired muscle, shook his head at the sight of the supposed legendary pirate dressed in a frilly nightgown and robe. 

"What do ye want?" The captain shouted. 

"Captain Whetstone!" The whompers cried once more in unison. The nibling in the party opened his velvet case to reveal a long brass horn, about three times his size. He set up a tripod and rested the other end of the horn on it. The small creature drew a deep breath before filling the air with a short, but very very loud melody. The muscular hemulen covered his ears, and shook his head once more. "You've been summoned to duel the great Jules Cartier at his manor! We shall escort you!" The whompers bowed.

Marion appeared just behind the captain, wrapping her arm around the small of her back. She was similarly dressed in a silk robe and nightgown. In her other paw, she held a steaming teacup, and passed it along to Whetstone, who took a long, slow sip. 

"But we 'aven't even had breakfast!" The moomin protested loudly.

"It's past noon!" The hemulen mercenary shouted, palming his face, and shaking his head once more before storming off. He parted the crowd, grumbling to himself on the way out. The nibling took up his horn once more, apparently announcing the departure of one of their party, much to the dismay of the gathered crowd's ears. 

Ruth approached the duo, dropping on the deck just behind them their clothes, and the captain's sword with an unceremonious thud. "Don't be comin' back if ye don't win." She spit to the side.

"When I do come back, we'll be 'avin' words, Ruthie. Strong ones, too, I reckon. Mind yer tongue 'round yer captain." Whetstone began to put on her boots.

"If only ye could mind yers 'round whatever gal ye be fancyin' of late. Wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't fer you. Now the whole of Marseille wants a look at us, and the whole of the world wants the price on our heads. Keep yer promises, cap. Er I'll be keepin' 'em fer you." She headed below deck.

"Whaddaya reckon that means, Marion?" She looked around, puzzled.

"I imagine it was pretty straightforward, but you pirates are a bit hard to understand sometimes. Verbally, I mean." 

The captain wheezed and laughed loudly, wiping a tear from her eye. "That we are!" She continued to get ready. "Anyway don't ye be worryin' about her, either. Everyone's a mite worked up I imagine. She's stubborn, but she's a good'un." She tossed her robe and nightgown onto the deck of the ship as she hopped over to the side of the ship to the dock. 

The whompers were still in their bowed position, and a large chunk of the crowd had begun to disperse before hearing the captain's boots slam onto the wood. She had only dressed halfway up, boots, slops, a sash, a belt and sword. Her thick fur was disheveled and unkempt, an appearance apparently befitting the crowd's idea of a pirate. Ooh's and ahh's once more took shape, whispers and whistling as well. She began pulling her shirt on as she approached her would-be escort crew, coat draped across her arm. Marion shortly after hopped over, dressed quite unlike she had when she'd arrived. She rushed to the captain's side, attempting to avoid the gaze of the murmuring crowd for too long. The challenger's party parted a path as they beckoned the duo along quietly. 

Marseille was silent and empty, shopkeeps shuddered their windows and covered their stalls, passersby rushed indoors, and the captain swaggered through the streets en route to her duel. Deep blue ribbons and brightly colored bits of decor began cluttering their path to Cartier Manor. Though sparse at first, upon nearing the manor proper, the whole of the area was densely decorated. Rugs and flower petals lined the walkway, and whatever surface could have something hanging from it, did. Red roses and white lilies were bouqueted and affixed opposite each other. Even the balconies of houses unaffiliated to the Cartier name had wreaths hung from them. The early afternoon sun baked the clouds in front of it as they gathered, and it seemed as though the sky would open up any minute. The air was humid and filled with the scent of loose flower petals being crushed underfoot, alongside the distant rains. 

The nibling rushed ahead as fast as his little feet would carry him, horn in tow. He set up  his tripod just outside a bespoke iron gate. Just beyond the gate was a vast open courtyard, filled to capacity with all manner of folk, many of which were dressed in finery.

"I'm a mite hazy, but, is yer dad always this.. dramatic?" Whetstone covered her face as she whispered to Marion. 

"Seemingly more so than usual these days. This, I'd say, is less dramatic and more… absurd? Honestly I've given up attempting to understand the man."

 "This way, Captain Whetstone." The whompers once again spoke in unison. They led her just to the side as they ushered the rest of the guests, Marion included, in through the gates. The nibling blasted the same tune as before as each made their way into the courtyard. 

"So I'm not goin' that way?" The captain said, pointing across the fence. 

"No!" The whompers said, cheerfully. Their smiles almost perfectly matched one another, along with just about everything else about them. They seemed as though they were simply pleased to be involved. 

"Can y' tell me which way I am goin'?"

"No!" They cheered once more.

The trio stood for a few more minutes as the nibling welcomed more guests with his horn. 

"Can I go in now?" The captain scratched behind her ears. Her tone was playful, but she was starting to get impatient.

"No!" They sounded almost the same every time. Captain Whetstone gave up and leaned against the fence, arms crossed. She wasn't worried about being late to the duel, nor really very much about the duel itself. The whole affair was turning out far more posh than she had imagined, and with each decoration and each passing upper crust guest, she became less and less worried. She gave into idle thought for a moment. Her mind chose distractions of all kinds, but more and more her mind wandered back to Marion. Had she made the right choice to interfere when she did that day at the docks? Had she done right by her so far? What would become of her next?  

"Ahem" 

"Wah!" Whetstone shouted, recoiling from the sudden interruption. "Who'sat!" She caught herself on the fence. 

A muddler with very long droopy ears dressed in a most garish fashion held her paw out in front of her. Her hat was massive and had a large feather sticking out from it, along with several other adornments. She wore several pin cushions in various places, and a chatelaine of sewing materials hung from her hip. 

"Ahem." She continued to hold out a paw to shake in greeting.

"What? Am I in yer way, or..?"

"Ahem. It's my name."

"What's yer name?" 

"Ahem!" 

"What?!"

The muddler sighed. "My name. My name is Ahem. As in hemming garments. It's what I do. I'm a tailor." She motioned to her collection of sewing tools and accessories.

"Taylor? But I thought y' said yer name was Ahem?"

Ahem patently ignored her. "Mr. Cartier has requested that you come along with me for the time being. Preparations for the… un-seam-ly events to come."

"...right." The captain squinted. "And will there be more sewing puns?"

"We'll put a pin in that one for now." 

"Yer too quick fer me, lass!" She laughed out loud. She was beginning to enjoy herself. Things had taken quite the turn from the serious to the silly, and she was along for the ride.

"Quick indeed." She grabbed the captain by the arm, taking her to a room just inside the manor around the outside of the courtyard. The room was littered with fabric, tools, and mannequins of all shapes and sizes. One of the mannequins featured a fillyjonk-esque head with a familiar mustache made to resemble Jules. 

"Rich bastard's got his own uhh… what do ye even call a room like this? Sewing dungeon?" Whetstone fiddled with just about everything in her path as Ahem snapped back and forth with her measuring tape across the captain's moominous form. 

"Mr. Cartier has appointed me to make a coat for you. Something a little less stolen and salt soaked. He wants you to look flashy for his big day." She rolled her eyes. 

"Big day. Pffft." She blew a raspberry. "Also I'll have you know I bought this one." She said, putting extra emphasis on the last two words. 

"Pffft indeed." Ahem pulled aside a curtain revealing a tall and nicely rounded mannequin. Upon it was a coat fit for a pirate, though very well made and quite fancy. It was entirely black save for the trim, cuffs, and pocket covers that were a deep dark red, with shining gold buttons and an interior lining of red and gold paisley. A cutlass crossed with a rose was embroidered on the left breast. She snatched it off the mannequin and draped it over the captain's shoulders. "Go on, see how it fits. Your measurements seem almost exactly what I thought they'd be." 

"It's quite lovely!" She put the coat on, pulling the sleeves over her arms. She jumped and jogged in place, bent down to touch her toes and stretched her arms. Then she mimicked punching, drawing and swinging a sword, and climbing the riggings of a ship. She pretended to draw her pistol with a flourish and blew the smoke from its imaginary barrel, and then curtsied meekly.  "Fits great! Oh, one more thing." She walked up to the Jules mannequin and planted her feet. She drew her arm back and delivered a hearty slap just as she had the first time. "It's perfect, actually." The head of the mannequin tumbled to the floor.

"Three days is hardly long enough to craft something perfect. Let alone an entire ensemble that turns a ruffian into a posh pirate renegade as Mr Cartier suggested. So you'll have to make due with only the coat I'm afraid."

"Wait, three days? He asked y' to make a coat on the day that I slapped 'im?" She let out a single loud laugh. "I musta knocked something loose! How'd ye get m' measurements, anyhow?"

"Followed you around."

"But I hardly left m' ship after that business, how'd y-"

"You left four times, actually. Two of which you brought back food and wine."

"Ha! Typical. I like you, Ahem, yer fun! An' this coat is perfectly made t' measure, most folks miss just how big I am 'round the middle. You've got me thanks." 

"You know, I think that might be the first time I've gotten a genuine compliment the entire time I've spent under the employ of Mr. Cartier. Go give him hell, captain." She smiled, pushing the moomin gently on her back towards the door. "Oh, but do mingle a bit first. I don't think Jules is quite done making a fool of himself yet. I'm sure he'll call for you." She began packing things into a large trunk.

Not long after, the strange events at Cartier Manor continued to unfold. Captain Whetstone found herself in the courtyard, and Marion in turn found her as well. Refreshments were being served on trays carried by servants in bright blue vests. The pair sat at a table under a parasol, similar settings littered the yard alongside tents, rugs, and a veritable ship's load of furniture. All of this surrounded a large stage, adorned with deep blue ribbons and flowers. 

"That's a fine coat you've found yourself." Marion eyed the embroidery, sitting across from Captain Whetstone.

"Aye? A gift from yer old man I s'pose. Funny seamstress gal made it." She lifted it to show off the liner. "Yer house is massive! Just you lot live there?"

The captain made musings about this, that, and the other, chatting idly with Marion. Time stretched on, and the outing began to seem much less like a duel, and much more like a garden party. With each offered hors d'oeuvre, the captain took at least one of each thing, most of which she tried and set aside without finishing. She did, however, finish each flute of champagne that was brought by. 

The captain held a glass at eye level, staring at the champagne within, boredom getting the better of her. "Marion, how do ye reckon they get the bubbles in th–"

"Welcome, all!"  A voice boomed from the stage, commanding everyone's attention. "Today marks a momentous and fateful occasion." Jules' theatrical manner of speaking finally suited the situation. 

He had chosen an outfit of deep blues and bright whites, with silver buttons. Each article bore a motif of white lilies, trimmed with shimmering silver. The calves and sleeves of his outfit were tight and fitted, while the rest was loose and flowing. All of it was made of a shiny satin exterior, and he wore a large and gallant cape upon his shoulders. It was no doubt the work of the same tailor of Whetstone's coat. His hair was slicked back, and his mustache was waxed into perfect, symmetrical points. Behind him stood a short and portly older moomin, with a curly powdered wig. He was dressed similarly to Mr Cartier, though much simpler and with a brooch bearing the symbol of the King's navy. 

"Today, we bring a close to the scourge upon the seas. I, Jules Cartier, am to end the career of a pirate that has so long plagued the open waters." Not a word left his lips without some manner of posing added to it. Bravado seemed a natural calling for him. "But I, ladies and gentlemen, am no brute! We duel today only to first blood. I have called upon the aid of Governor Woodes Rogers, an experienced pirate hunter, to take down alongside me the infamous Captain Whetstone!" 

Gasps were shared by the crowd, most of whom had likely never heard of Rogers nor Whetstone before the last few days. Jules was building drama for a performance, and the audience was absolutely enraptured. 

"Should your hero prevail today, Miss Whetstone will voluntarily turn herself in at my behest. The streets of Marseille will no longer be subject to her whims, and its surrounding seas shall stand as an affront to all pirates who would dare approach!" 

Rogers, the moomin standing behind Jules, stepped forward. He unfurled an almost comically long document and cleared his throat. "Captain Whetstone, of her own free will, submits heretofore under the crown and will be granted clemency for all acts perpetrated during her stints as a pirate, and shall be pressed into service of the king's navy, or be jailed at once and in perpetuity remain. Here listed are her many crimes, and associated parties-"

"You needn't continue reading Mr Rogers. They can see how long that page is." Jules interrupted. 

"Am I going crazy?" Marion whispered across the table to Whetstone. "I mean I know it's been three days. But it's only been three days. A garden party is one thing, but to organize all of this?" She rested her head in her paws for a moment.

"I don't even think that there's the real Woodes Rogers." She squinted at the man from her seat. "Last I heard it, he were bankrupt or some such. Sued by his own crew. Ought t' be down n' out, not out n' about putzing around France." She searched her pockets for her pipe, remembering that she wasn't wearing her old coat. "That page he's got is like as any t' be blank I'd bet."

"Captain Whetstone, to the stage if you would!" Jules shouted, finishing his speech. 

Marion looked across the table, only now showing her fear. "Be careful up there. He's quicker than he looks." 

"It'll be over 'fore ye know it, lass. If yer dad wants to put on a show fer these folk, then I say let's give 'em a show." She picked up her champagne flute, and swaggered up to the stage. She took her place across from Jules.

"The fearsome pirate captain, Whetstone. Ruffian. Ne'er-do-well. Scoundrel and scallywag. You've plundered your way through the seas and sewn chaos among the citizenry, but that all ends today." Jules once again performed for the audience rather than speaking.

"Aye. All that n' more. And none of it could sate the devil inside me." She growled, mostly unconvincingly. She was, at best, unseasoned as an actor. 

"You're drunk!" Jules said, tugging on a pair of leather gloves. 

"An' yer annoying!"

"Name your second." 

"My what?" The captain shot him a puzzled look. 

"Your second. Someone you trust to bear witness to the duel. Have you never had a proper duel in your life? And yet how many have fallen to your sword alone? How barbaric." Jules rolled his eyes. 

"Ah. Marion'll do it. She's good like that, seems despite yer efforts t' the contrary, you've raised a very capable young woman."

Jules flinched, balling his hands into fists as the captain shouted for Marion to join them on stage. He swallowed his anger, and continued the show. The moomin who may or may not have been Woodes Rogers presented a velvet box, and a servant presented another. They opened the lids revealing one to have within it a set of ornate dueling pistols with pearlescent grips. The other box contained two sideswords decorated with gold engravings upon their blades. 

"The challenged may choose the weapons. The seconds shall inspect the weapons to ensure fairness and quality. Once we are all in agreeance, we shall separate ten or twenty paces, face one another, and the duel can begin in earnest upon the signal of each second." Jules delivered his clearly practiced lines to the crowd. 

"Well I meant what I said. I won't be killin' a man in front o' his own daughter. No pistols. First blood." 

"Swords it is, then. Ten paces instead." 

"I ain't usin' one o' yer swords neither. I made this cutlass and ye won't part me from it." She removed her sword from her belt, handing it to Marion, who had just arrived on stage. "You and yer second can inspect that'un." 

"Very well, captain. I suppose I should have expected no less from a pirate." His words were intensely venomous, annunciating each word with a pompous anger. He turned to face the audience. "The pirate has elected to use her own, crude blade even within the context of a gentlemanly duel!" This elicited whispers from the crowd.

Jules paid no mind to Marion as she presented Whetstone's sword to him and his second. They looked at it for only a moment and both scoffed, despite its elegance and craftsmanship. The captain and her second both carefully examined Jules' blade, finding no flaw or alterations. They agreed, and each took their sword as they took their place on stage. The crowd was silent, and the sound of thunder echoing in the distance was joined only by the footsteps of the two duelists as they took their paces.

Jules held his sword point up, taking a dueling stance as he measured each pace. The captain had returned her sword to its scabbard, and was still holding her flute of champagne. She took each step as though she were crossing stones in a river, occasionally pretending to lose her balance playfully as she watched the audience. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

With each step Marion's heart raced, she feared for her future, and for her newfound freedom. She'd found a fondness these last three days and had mostly forgotten her anger to her father until she met with him once more on stage. 

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. 

Jules gripped his sword tightly, eager to rewrite himself as a hero to the people of Marseille. He turned in his position, waiting for the signal from the seconds. The captain turned as well, sword sheathed, glass in hand. 

"At your will, Mr Rogers." Marion stood beside him near the rear of the stage, out of the duelists' way. Her voice was shaky.

"Begin!" Woodes Rogers shouted without hesitation.

Jules lowered himself, rushing into a full sprint. 

The captain tossed her glass into the air, straight. She drew her cutlass quick as lightning, and with incredible speed and precision, cut the stem from the bell. As the glass descended, she caught it in her paw. The audience gasped, a few even squealed as the base sailed far off into the crowd. 

Jules stopped in his tracks for a moment, on guard. It was too late to back out now, despite the impressive display. 

She took a long, protracted sip before gently setting the unharmed top half of the glass onto the stage upside down next to her, empty. "I hope y' brought yer dancing shoes." She extended her arm, the point of her sword idly aimed at her opponent. 

He rushed to strike first, despite his showmanship he aimed to end the duel as fast as he could. He thrust to the captain's side. She sidestepped, grabbing his wrist with her empty paw, and used his momentum to throw him to the ground. He landed with an anticlimactic albeit quite loud thud on his back. 

"That's disappointing, Jules. I thought y' wanted to give these fine folk a show." She spoke at stage volume. She stood over him, the tip of her cutlass resting just above his chest.

"It's to first blood, captain." He gripped his sword tightly, and swept at her ankles. "And I'm not bleeding yet!" He jumped to his feet the moment she was on the defensive. 

She back-stepped, narrowly avoiding his swing. The audience roared to life having been in rapt silence during their first exchange. They shouted and cheered, nearly drowning out the following clanging of steel. 

Jules ferociously delivered cut and thrust after cut and thrust, he was as well practiced as Marion had said. He'd not met an opponent yet that could hold against his onslaught, and yet the captain was calm and focused, dodging and deflecting each of his blows. 

Whetstone feinted high as she had done with Marion, then swung low at his legs, cutting just the fabric of his pant-leg as he changed his stance. 

She laughed. "Ha! Got yer daughter with that'un, too!" 

He snarled, lunging in and following up with several repeated thrusts. The captain knocked each of them aside. She bound her sword against his and closed any distance between them, using her weight to throw him off balance. Jules fell to the ground once more, but rolled off his back and onto his feet again. He rounded her, swapping sides hoping to gain an advantage. He threatened a cut, but dropped his leg and reached out for a long thrust to the captain's inside line. She had previously been neglecting it and stepping aside, and she wouldn't step aside if she had thought it was a cut. He drove his point home as fast as he could, and then-

Thwap!

Whetstone batted aside his blade by the flat using her paw! She charged in now that he was open, blade raised high. He managed to raise his guard just in time, barely withstanding the weight of an oversized moomin crashing against his sword arm like a heavy wave against a ship's bow. He rounded his opponent once more, returning to his side of the stage. 

Jules hated being on the defensive. He hated even more his opponent. He hated that despite his assuredness in his own skill and the effort he put into this display, he had not bested the captain as quickly as he had hoped. His off hand left his hip, abandoning his dueling stance. He abandoned his footwork, too, in exchange for a mad dash. He began throwing wild cuts in front of him as he charged, yelling the whole way. She threw all of her might into one heavy cut, knocking his sword off line once again. He reeled, regaining his composure. 

He realized that he could not beat her in a competition of strength, nor speed.  He would have to stay calm and search for an opening. "The leg!" He thought to himself. "She may be twice the size of your average moomin, but she's still got shorter legs than a fillyjonk!" He closed in once more, focusing in on waist level thrusts. He began changing his rhythm, repeating the same passing steps in his approach. He'd stab and wait for her to cut, then step and do it again. Biding his time until she went for something trickier.

Whetstone noticed the change in his attitude. He was lithe and by now much more warmed up. It was as though he'd settled into the flow of battle. She held both arms out to her side, as if to say "come at me!" Completely opening up her defenses. He threw a cut to her chest, following up on her opening. She took her sword by its spine at one end, and the grip with the other, and swung up as though she were forcing open a window. He reeled once more as his sword was knocked away, but the captain was wide open for exactly the kind of attack he'd hoped for. He readjusted, then swung for her thigh. 

Seeing this, she leapt back once, being caught off guard by such a near miss. She'd kept her cool through most of the fight, but she was beginning to worry that her fooling around might cost her new friend dearly.  She leapt back again, escaping his reach. She spun off her front leg. Jules watched, unsure of the captain's intentions with such a maneuver. He saw her rear leg swoop up midway through the spin, and then back down as she completed it, as if in slow motion. At first he was confused, but then he remembered. "Oh no." He thought. "Not like this!" 

Her back foot kicked the glass she had left on stage, sending it flying straight at his face. He brought up his sword to block it, or knock it aside, but it was in vain. It shattered against the base of his blade, sending shards flying past it. The collective gasp from the previously uproarious crowd would have sucked the air from the room were they not outside. Even the coming storm stood silent as a trickle of blood ran down Jules' forehead. He reached up and touched it gingerly, examining the aftermath upon his paw. 

"I believe that's first blood, Mr. Cartier." The captain flourished with her sword a moment before returning it to its scabbard. She faced the audience, curtsied meekly, and headed off toward Marion at the rear of the stage. Much of the crowd were confused, some even angry. There was cheering and jeering alike, booing and whistling. Jules remained on stage, utterly defeated as the rain began gently dropping. 

"Congratulations, Miss Whetstone." Jules said. His voice was much less performative, taking on a sinister tone. The captain continued her stride, merely raising her paw dismissively. "You have won the duel…" Jules rushed toward her. "But you will lose your life!" 

"Whetstone! Look out!" Marion cried as loud as she could. 

The captain turned to see Jules just behind her, and coming right at her head was the tip of his sword. She threw herself back, headfirst, but it was too late. His sword dug into her face and tore across her left eye, stopping around the middle of her forehead thanks only to luck and to Marion's warning. She shouted in pain, clutching at the wound on her face with one paw and drawing her sword with the other. 

"This isn't fair!" The wouldbe Woodes shouted, sprinting away. He stumbled into the table that had the dueling boxes atop it, knocking it over. "You didn't tell me you were going to kill her!" 

The audience bellowed with shouts of a similar kind. 

"The duel is over! Stop!"

 "You lost! Give it up!"

"He's lost his mind!"

 Many voices cried over one another.

Several members of the audience shrieked in fear from the sight of so much blood, and several others rushed to the stage in an attempt to stop him from continuing his assault.

"Y' cowardly bastard!" The captain growled, fighting as hard as she could with the use of only one eye. "Marion! Get yerself outta here!" She looked around in a half blind panic.

"Duel or no duel, she's a wanted woman! To the man who brings me her head, you'll claim the bounty and I'll make you the richest man in Marseille!" Jules drew the crowd into a frenzy. Those who weren't tempted by his offer began running to the gate, and those who were tempted began surrounding the stage. They were unarmed but very much outnumbered the two who were now stuck between Jules, the manor, and the gate leading back out into the streets. 

Marion rushed in the same direction as Woodes, shaking with panic. She had to act, and quickly. She picked up one of the pistols from the open dueling boxes, pointing it at her father. She tightened her grip, steadying herself. She'd never fired a pistol before, and despite everything, she'd never wanted to kill her father. "Stop! Stop attacking her this instant or I'll shoot you!" She shouted. Tears were streaming down her face, her hair and clothes now soaked with rain as the storm raged on. 

The captain backed off from the fight, holding her ground as Marion made her plea. Jules stopped as well, turning to face his daughter. The herd of newly made bounty hunters waited, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. 

"Make sure you take that one alive." Jules pointed at Marion with his sword, gesturing to his makeshift militia. 

Click

Marion pulled the trigger, filled with an array of strong emotions that all burnt up in her anger. Jules paused briefly, seemingly offended. His eyes were wide and mouth agape. The flint struck the frizzen, yet there was no smoke, no flash, no bang. The rain had soaked the powder thoroughly, forcing her threats empty.  

The moment seemed to drag on, the clear line in the sand now drawn between Marion and her home life. She screamed, barely able to hear herself as she threw the gun at him, reaching next for the sword left in the box. The captain used this as an opportunity to rush to Marion's side, scooping her up in a bridal carry at full sprint, off stage. 

"After them, you fools!" Jules regained focus after his brush with death. He'd gone too far now to give up. He'd all but given up on raising his daughter to be the way he wanted her, but he refused to relinquish even the slightest bit of control, especially to a pirate. 

Captain Whetstone ran as fast as she could toward the gate. The path was clear and the only remaining bystanders had just made it through. Jules was the fastest among the duo's pursuers, quickly taking charge ahead of his group. The grass underfoot was slick, and the rugs placed upon it now waterlogged. Thunder crashed within the sky, bellowing throughout the humid air below. 

"Come back you coward! Blaggard! Face your fate!" Jules shouted above the racket of the storm as he ran. 

The captain stumbled, woozy from her injury, dropping Marion in the process. They both stopped only a moment, with Jules gaining on them. The gate was tantalizingly near, and their hope for escape pushed them onward. The pair righted themselves and passed the threshold, soon to be followed by Jules and his cohorts. 

"I have you now, you wretch!" Jules raised his sword, closing in. He chanced a cut at the captain's leg rather than attempting to tackle a woman likely twice his weight. 

tst-BOOM

A shot rang out, crushing beneath it for a moment the sound of storm and step alike. Smoke plumed from a covered balcony one floor up, just outside the gate to the Cartier Manor courtyard. Whatever onlookers remained nearby scattered at the sound. 

"I reckon I already told ye…" a hoarse voice spoke from behind the smoke. "Keep yer promises, Cap'n. Lest I be keepin' 'em fer ye." A rugged hemulen woman set her spent rifle to the side, lifting a loaded one from a row against the railing she was perched at. 

For the briefest of moments the world fell silent as those in the vicinity searched for the object of Ruth's aim. The silence broke with the anguished scream of Jules, his sword clattering to the ground as he clutched his arm where he'd been shot. 

"Ruthie!" The captain shouted, gleeful and relieved. 

"Put some wind in yer sails, kid! Ye promised me no foolishness. Ye get that girl outta here, an' maybe I won't be considr'in it foolish n'more!" She took aim, putting a shot between the wounded Mr Cartier and his thugs. The shot caused a few of them to rethink, running back into the courtyard. She once again set her empty rifle aside, picking up a fresh one. "Avast! I've got 'nuff guns up 'ere to take the lot of ye! What'll it be?" She asked the duo's pursuers, mounting her gun on the railing.

Captain Whetstone and Marion ran as far and as fast as they ever had before. Despite eventually making their escape, the two were in need of leave from Marseille. Jules' ire is doubtless to have stirred all manner of trouble, and he had a wound to prove his opponent's guilt. When they arrived at the docks that evening, out of hiding, The Honeyed Word was no longer moored at the harbor. The surrounding area was lousy with law, searching for the both of them. They spent that night together in a cove on the beach tending to Whetstone's wound, making plans for tomorrow and the tomorrow beyond that. 

–

"That's awful, Miss Puukko!" Moominmama had returned from the kitchen to the veranda with a tray set for coffee. She set it down upon the table, having a seat next to her husband. 

"Yes, quite! And what became of the two of you next?" Papa asked from his seat across the table. His agreeance to Mama's exclamation was betrayed by the excitement in his voice. He held a love for all things nautical as well as for a good story, and could not hide it. 

The fluffy brown moomin scratched at the underside of her snout, eyes fixed on the distance as she reminisced. It was a calm, and pleasantly warm evening in Moominvalley. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon and crickets chirped from their hiding places. She puffed on her pipe, exhaling deeply with a contented sigh. She bore a scar across her left eye, and the heavy brow of a long life. Seeing her dressed comfortably, swapping stories on the veranda,  you'd hardly believe she'd once been a fearsome pirate captain. Obscurity suited her quite well, as the last breath of a legend long past. 

"In my absence, Ruthie 'ad told me crew t' weigh anchor an' make fer somewhere near. I reckon I'd consider her t' be a hero, least by my account anyway..." She took another drag off her pipe. "Trouble were certain to have found them if she hadn't got 'em outta there. That was the last anyone saw of her. Sent some men that-a-way fer to go about findin' her some time later. Not hide nor hair. I think she aimed t' make the rest o' her life a quiet one."

"But you pirates are all flare and bravado! A life of excitement, and er, uh, and freedom! Why would you want to give up that?" Moominpapa gestured in his chair as he spoke. 

"Papa…" his wife laid her paw on his arm as if to settle him down. 

"It's a fine thing t' be sure, fer a spell. But it's got its rigors. I fear what I mean t' say ain't kind enough fer this valley. It's foul, and it's wretched. Turn folk into beasts and beasts into.. well I hardly even know what ye'd call it. Bastards 'n scoundrels. When ya find a one like the one I were sweet on, well… it's hard t' live a life like that seein' thems that you'd protect with their teeth gritted behind a sword." She dropped a sugar cube into her cup, watching it slowly dissolve beneath the dark waves of coffee. 

"And to think I'm the one writing memoirs." Papa mused. "And what happened to Marion?"

"After we made it back aboard me ship, I weren't in a way fit fer sailing. Without a first mate and without their captain and helmsman, the crew had t' band together. They fell in with Marion right quick. She'd read up on sailing her whole life, call to the sea an' all that. Just ne'er put it to practice. Did a good turn at the old bailiwick once more, plundered as many ships carryin' the Cane King stuff 'tween Nassau, Curaçao and near Marseille as we could. She learnt t' be quite fierce in a short while. A force to be reckoned with under my care. We became as tall tales walkin'... We got t' bein' quite close, too. Didn't ne'er get to talking out the particulars though, I'm afraid." 

She stopped for a moment, enjoying the coffee, company, and relative peace and quiet. Ever since she'd moved to Moominvalley she'd known more peace than she ever had. Even in her own childhood home,  there were always storms and turmoil. As no more than a pup on the seas apprenticing under good men, she knew even further strife and noise. From her start on the seas she thought she could earn the peace she had now, and never did. 

"It's funny how misfortune and heartache can get ye where ye need t' be goin'. We coulda stayed tall tales iffin things hadn't shaken out like they did. The thing about it is…" She took one last puff on her pipe before tapping it into the ashtray. 

"Whether or not ye tuck it when ye run, if ye made yer tale long enough, someone always catches ye by it in the end. But that's a story fer another time I suppose."

[justwritingscenarios]

Hey there, hope ur doing alright

May I please have Sir crocodile &/or Trafalgar Law for a scenario(ig it was numb 6 but I changed it a bit) in which they're mistaken as a couple so their *partner to be* says that they're not together, but they'll correct them by lowkey being protective and saying "well not yet" or sth like that

I'm not sure if ur ok with the changes or u do two seperate characters for one scenario, so feel free to ignore it

and that's it! Thank you.

Hello~ I prefer getting a character one by one. For creative reason, simpler working for one idea at a time. So I went for Law this time but you can still sent me the request for Crocodile ! :) I wish I understood your request well. - Lara

Scenario 2 : "no we are not together" "…at least not yet"

Trafalgar Law x GN! Mugiwara! Reader // Words : 750 // Warning : Law is a bit OC by being flirty. (no beta reader)

Luffy had once again emptied the food stock, earning a kick from Sanji, a punch from Nami and a death glare from Law. The Straw-hat boy was an expert to thwart Law’s plans. The Heart was getting used to it.

The Thousand Sunny and the Polar Tang berthed next to another on the big docks of White Castle, an island known for their marketplaces. It was the perfect place for Sanji to fill up the pantry and for everyone to do some purchases. Everyone was content with that unforeseen stop.

Law was leaning on the railings of the submarine, looking at the city.

“Are you really staying here sulking until the evening?”

He turned his head to you, standing on the quay, and smirked at your remark. “And who’s going to keep the sub if I’m leaving?”

“Close it? Moreover, Zoro’s keeping the Sunny, he can keep an eye on the Tang too. I’m suuure if there is a place you can find a medical book you don’t already have in your huge collection, it’s here.”

Law knew you were right. About Zoro. And about the book. And he found it entertaining to hang out with you. He already had before, during missions or free time on your both ships. You had many interests and hobbies, some he shared, which led you to lots of interesting conversations, sometimes with crewmates, others just the two of you. The man wasn’t naïve; he knew he had fall in love with you and that he couldn’t do anything against it but be there, enjoy your presence and protect you whenever you’d need it. And expect you feel the same. Because he wasn’t sure.

“Look, isn’t it the book you wanted the last time?” Law walked closer to you and watched the book you pointed to. You were right, he was looking for it. That was the kind of thing that made Law thought you could love him too. All those moments you would point out something he likes or wants; or despises, just to kid him with your mischievous smile.

“Yes, it is. Thanks (Name)-ya.”

Law kept looking at the medical section with you before going to the cheek out. The shop assistant registered it and asked him. “It is a gift for you (gender)friend? I can gift-wrap.” Law was wondering what made them think it would be a gift for you, that you answered. “We’re not together.” And Law, in a murmur, added “not yet”, without knowing you heard.

You went on and on with different kind of shops, through different marketplaces, until “I’m hungry.”

“Oh, so it was your tummy rumbling. I thought it was an earthquake.” You punched him lightly on the arm to which he responded with his signature smirk. “What about here?”

He showed a bakery a little forward. The both of you chose quickly and the waitress took your orders. You were still looking at the pastries in the window when she addressed Law: “We have tables for couple on first floor. It will be calmer.” “Thanks.” He simply answered before turning to your confused face. “What? You’re coming?” You nodded and followed him upstairs.

Law sat and looked around, waiting for your order to be brought. On your side, you watched him… It was the second time he implied you were a couple in the same afternoon. When he eventually looked at you, it was your turn to look around. He noticed and smirked silently, the waitress coming with your orders.

“Here. Ice teas. The tiramisu for…?”

“My boyfriend.”

Both the waitress and Law turned to you, surprised by your words. On the other hand, you were looking at him dead in the eyes; if you felt sure of yourself on the outside – which you highly doubted – you were freaking on the inside. The waitress giggled and left, with a low “thank you” from Law, that didn’t stop looking back at you.

He eventually unfreezed and let out a laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not. I am not laughing at you. It’s just… Why?”

“I heard you at the book shop and that you didn’t correct her about us by a couple… So, I wanted to confirm something.” You took a sip of your drink, not seeing Law’s hand reaching for yours until he grabbed it.

“I wish your verification went well.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It did.” You answered before intertwining your fingers with his.

[all-pacas]

Can you talk more about the whole "Chase and 13 as siblings" deal? I've seen it everywhere,but they seemed more like ordinary friends to me. Neither of them gave me the "found family" vibes.

To be clear, it's totally fanon. They are not found family in canon, they aren't even super good friends. I'm pretty sure it comes from the common perception in fandom that they're House's favorites/the ones who view him and/or are viewed by him as his children. Which I guess makes them siblings? (I don't even think, technically speaking, that's true — House doesn't think of either of them as his kids tbh.) I am a huge enjoyer of it, though, so I can only give my reasoning; the short version is I think they have a lot of potential in this direction.

So first of all, the two of them are like. Lowkey so alike. Like the venn diagram of them is sort of just a circle. They both had traumatic family histories involving mothers who died young and who they resented/'hated.' They're both intensely private people, 13 going ahead and making that a meme but Chase just as good at it as she is. They both have histories on the show of sleeping around and engaging in reckless behaviors as a reaction to depression/trauma; they do both have close relationships with House, I think it's overstated a little in fandom but it's also true; House and 13 are obviously very close but Chase has a whole pair of S8 episodes highlighting the same; he's also the fellow House has known the longest, who stayed the longest. They're both perceptive and bright and have similar senses of humor.

As you said, they are friends. They enjoy one another's company, we see they have fun hanging out. 13 alludes to going drinking with Chase sometimes in Last Temptation. After Hours proves that Chase knows where 13 lives, that she can call him past midnight and he'll show up no questions asked. Despite both being super private and secretive, they know one another's darkest secrets: Chase is the only person besides House 13 has told about killing her brother and going to prison. 13 is the only person besides Cameron Chase has told about Dibala. (House and Foreman figured that one out on their own. Also, last time he told someone it ended his marriage, so it's kind of Insane he tells 13. Like. Wow.) 13 went a year not telling anyone her name, Chase wouldn't even confirm he was catholic when House guessed it, and yet these two tell one another things. Even in Private Lives, before they really knew one another, Chase and 13 were having serious heart-to-hearts about the divorce and whether or not Chase was pretty; these just… aren't conversations he, at least, has with other people.

Also, let's be frank. The show was setting them up to fuck. I think some of this is meant to be ship tease, in all honesty. Chase outright propositions her. One of their earliest bonding episodes is Private Lives, which has a sort of flirty bit at the end and is all about their failed romances. But thankfully — because we all know how much the show sucks at romance — it never happened. So what we're left with is two characters who are weirdly close, have a weird amount of heart to heart moments and bonding (like… compare Foreman and Chase, who have known one another forever but never have these sort of sincere 'moments'), and are incredibly similar. And who also are often framed specifically as 'House's children,' if not as as unit: Chase is the prodigal son, 13 calls herself the prodigal daughter. 'siblings' make sense. People also don't really like to ship them, myself included, although tbh they make a good amount of sense on paper. Maybe because of the built in messiness (she's Foreman's ex, technically; she leaves the show for long stretches; the show sucks at romance), maybe because people love found family, maybe because folks definitely prefer to lean into 13 dating women. And because people don't want to think of them as romantic options for one another, how do you define a relationship between a pair of very attractive people without letting that be a factor? Make them siblings!

For what it's worth, I don't actually think they're siblings, or that they think of one another as that. I think they're good friends. But they're also so alike, and open up to one another in pretty unique ways (especially for Chase), and get along well. In a weird way, I think the fact that they probably were attracted to one another and could have slept together but didn't makes them closer in my eyes: they both sleep around at the first chance, so that they didn't (by chance or choice) means they got to build an entirely different relationship. They're both lonely, they've both outlived family, they're both lowkey sort of depressed. And the idea that they could have a family in one another (Chase, for one, admits in S8 he pretty badly would like one) just really appeals to me. (With the added tragedy, of course, that it could only last a decade or so) I think they're good for one another, in that they have a "no questions asked" friendship, they know one another's worst secrets, and those secrets run parallel enough that they get it. And so even though they aren't siblings… I kinda want them to be, you know? :)

[lovemyromance]

ACOTAR FANDOM RANT incoming:

Y'all will never see me commenting on a properly tagged anti-Elriel post just to start a fight or even point out something the OP misconstrued or concluded (however incorrectly).

Ok I've done it maybe like three times, and it was probably back from when I was brand spankin new to this fandom's insanity and didn't understand the rules (learned Very quickly as a result of a bad encounter with the you know who's), or because someone copy pasted my post to "prove me wrong" (they didn't)

I've only been active in this fandom since like February 2024, and I have yet to block anyone, block any tags, or even follow any tags.

I see just as many anti-Elriel posts as I see Elriel posts.

Let that sink in.

I don't "go looking" through the anti-elriel tags, but when you don't follow anything - you get a whole lot of everything in your "for you" page.

I see so many flat out wrong interpretations of canon text or people posting about how during "Gwyn & Azriel's dagger lesson, he let her use Truthteller" or "Elain is secretly so in love with Lucien that she self harms instead of using his gifts"

and you know what I do? I exercise my self-control, and scroll. None of my business.

Clearly, I am not someone who is interested or even out lurking in anti Elriel posts for a fight. And yet, I have so many antis commenting on my posts - getting mad - then blocking ME.

Does that make sense? They came onto my page, to tell me I was wrong, and then got mad when I very logically pointed out the flaws in their logic, and then blocked me.

Facts:

I don't go out and start fights on anti-Elriel posts.

When someone comes to my posts, and starts a fight, I am very respectful of that person. You'll see me calling their interpretation wrong - but you won't see me saying anything about them personally, or calling them names or slurs or anything of that nature.

I do not belittle others

I do not dismiss anyone's trauma

I do not diminish anyone's accomplishments

I am respectful of real people's boundaries

I have never brought up tasteless and crude arguments just to "win a fight"

And if anyone thinks otherwise, then go ahead, feel free to prove me wrong. Receipts are all up there. To this day, I haven't deleted a comment, post, or reblog. I have like 80 posts a day, surely if I have behaved poorly in any way, I would've slipped up by now and you'd be able to find it.

But I know I haven't.

Even when people didn't read my post or understand anything I was saying before coming into my comments to fight with me. Even when someone said my trauma doesn't matter. Even when someone said I was "anti SA victims" (which is really funny, because that was after I reluctantly pointed out that I was unfortunately ALSO an SA victim)

I have never, ever, said anything like that to anyone in this fandom. That's just not who I am.

So then why - WHY - do people think it's okay to send me anons that threaten to find me and get me to "stfu about elriel you fucking c*nt" and tell me to go off myself and if I ship Elriel I'm an abuser?

Genuinely - why is that necessary? Why does someone feel the need to type that out, read it back, nod to themselves like "oh yeah that's good". And then send it to a real person??

What do they think I'm going to do? What purpose does that serve? It's very clearly a troll or some Elucien/Gwynriel that doesn't like what I have to say - but why is this the reaction?

Having a preference for a fictional ship does not make you a bad person. I have not once engaged with ANY EL/GA and called them "anti - SA" or "pro - r*pe culture" if they were fighting with me on my post. I think they're crazy sometimes - don't get me wrong - but I'm not out here thinking someone who ships Elucien is anti-women.

That is crazy. If you think having any preference for a ship makes some a "BAD PERSON", respectfully please log off. Get out of this fandom because you are part of the reason it's gotten so bad.

Stop attacking real people over fucking fictional characters. It's not okay, in any context. And I'm tired of it.

Turning off my anons for at least a little bit, sorry to the ones I haven't gotten around to.

[halfagone]

Is it bad that I don’t necessarily agree with what seems to be a lot of people’s headcanon of Danny not being straight? Obviously people can headcanon whatever they want, but I myself strictly adhere to the rule that if there is no explicit evidence or implications from canon that prove otherwise, that I just assume a character is straight since that’s statistically what is most common?

You had me in the first part but you lost me in the second, unfortunately. You said it yourself, people can headcanon whatever they want. If you prefer him being straight, then that's really up to you! But that last line you just said is a little something called 'heteronormativity' and I'm not going to explain that here.

Moreover, I would definitely say that it can be very tricky to use 'explicit evidence' for reasoning, because it's a very slippery slope.

I'll use some other childrens' cartoons as examples to make my point clear here: In The Legends of Korra, Korra dates only guys for almost the entirety of the show. But in the very last episode, she and Asami become a couple. I know a lot of people say that they just threw that out there, but if you do some research you'll find out that the showrunners fought so hard to get just that scene in the show. If they could, they probably would have added more elements to their relationship and gave them more obvious on-screen chemistry. But they weren't allowed to.

In Voltron: Legendary Defenders, we find out in Season 7 out of 8 that before the Kerberos mission, Shiro had been engaged to a man named Adam. While the two ultimately broke off their engagement because Adam didn't agree with Shiro's decision to go on the mission despite his illness, we do see in the series finale that Shiro gets married to Curtis, who was a member of the Atlas crew.

Probably one of the more famous examples, The Owl House! As we know this is a Disney channel show, but the wonderful creator Dana Terrance made it beautifully, openly queer. And Disney didn't quite like that, so they cancelled the series. After which, the showrunners essentially decided for the final abbreviated season, "Fuck it!" And did whatever they wanted, as far as they were allowed to go.

Dave Filoni has said that he shipped Ahsoka Tano and Barriss Offee and we could have seen a romance from the pair. (And yes, this does make the betrayal that much worse.) I could use Steven Universe as an example, but I think I've made this section of my point clear here.

We only see one side of the show. We get to see the finished product, not all the hard work the showrunners and writers and artists and producers put into getting what queer representation they could. We probably wouldn't have seen any of this from Danny Phantom as a show, because we all know Butch Hartman is homophobic as fuck, but that doesn't mean there was nothing there that we as a fandom couldn't have taken to mean something else.

In the episode, "One of a Kind", there's a scene where Danny and Tucker are seen cuddling comfortably in each other's embrace. Of course friends can do this too. Hell, they can even be in something called a ✨ queerplatonic relationship ✨ but that is still queer. Even still that can easily be argued that Danny is just as attracted to guys as he is to girls. You never see Danny act like that around Paulina or Valerie while they were dating.

In "Fanning the Flames", Sam kisses Dash to break Danny out of his mind control. Except... This episode's summary explicitly states, "Danny and Sam find their platonic relationship turned forcibly romantic through the powers of Ember..." Over the show's seasons, we do get bits and pieces of evidence that Sam had a crush on Danny, but it's not until "Frightmare", episode 9 of the last season, that we get a scene where Danny realizes he might have a crush on Sam. I'm sure there are other bits and pieces of evidence, Jack had a ring for some reason in "Girls' Night Out". But "Frightmare" is where we get the first evidence of a possible relationship from them, which is a huge deal because this show is primarily from Danny's perspective.

But that is, quite literally, two seasons apart. So who is to say that- that first time Sam kissed Dash- Danny wasn't jealous of Dash but he was jealous of Sam. Here's what I'm talking about: in "Frightmare" we see in Danny's dream sequence that he wanted to be friends with the A-Listers and that's probably primarily because he likes the idea of being popular, yet in that episode and "Attack of the Killer Garage Sale" it's always Dash that Danny wants to impress and please. In the latter's episode's case almost if not equally as much as Danny did with Paulina, a girl he freely shows his crush on. And yet this is the same guy that makes Danny's school life hell and whom Danny antagonizes on many occasions. This could easily be a case of 'pulling someone's pigtails' and considering Dash's admiration of Phantom, that's not hard to believe on his side of things either.

In general, Danny's entire secret identity can just as easily be a symbolism for queer identity. All of Danny's Rogues know who Danny is, what he is, where he lives, and where he goes to school. And yet it's his parents he has to hide himself from. If you switched out the word 'ghost' for 'gay' or 'queer' in some of the Fentons' anti-ghost rhetoric, it would have been unabashed hate speech.

The Danny Phantom phandom has a lot of queer folks. We've done polls, I've seen the numbers. You said it yourself, anyone is free to headcanon what they want. But considering the community, I am not surprised that Danny being anything but straight is so commonly headcanoned. And maybe that's still not for you, but it's not as shocking as you might expect it to be.

Danny is only 14 years old at the start of the series. While we don't know the exact timeline of the series, and how long it's been when the shows ends, we can comfortably put Danny at 15 or even 16 years old at most. But there are plenty of people who don't realize they're gay or lesbian or bi or ace until they're much, much older. Yeah, we didn't get to see that in canon for obvious reasons, but who's to say we can't show that instead?

[thegreencooler]

Amends

I don't usually dip my toe in the drama pool. At least not too deeply. But what's going on in fandom this week, the revelations, were extreme. The people who have come forward... they were in a cult. I am not being overdramatic about this. Gamifying harassment, forcing disconnections like Scientology, needing everyone to observe the same talking points or risk ostracism, leadership using it for money, criminal behavior towards those The Guru has deemed the Out-Group including members who don't conform heavily enough... That's a cult. The internet has made cult behavior REALLY easy. Likes and engagement make you suddenly aware of which direction your circle is leaning. If you agree, YOU TOO GET POINTS. You too will experience that sense of belonging, and that's what it's all about. So if your circle is being outright mean... if you don't want to be cast off as "not one of them"... maybe you say the mean thing too, even if it's a lie, even if you're not really sure why you're saying it. That approval feels SUPER GOOD and is addictive. And your circle amps each other up, gets meaner and meaner. The only people who stay in the in-group are those who don't speak up about the bad behavior and are willing to keep going along with it. Those aren't friendships. It's a pack of hungry carnivores. It's the same behaviors police gangs use on cops who speak up. I do have some sympathy, especially for the younger people who were still forming their identities. They were victims of indoctrination and criminal harassment. That said, they have to own their own behavior. I hope they learn and grow. They're going to have to have some self-reflection on what they've done, the lies told, the hate, the virulent -isms that were expressed, and literal crimes that were performed in the name of fitting in and winning some points with the clique. They're also going to have to reassess who their out-group is, why they even NEED an out-group over fandom things, and if there are still people in their schema who they have an impulse to hate for no reason.... because of a ship or actor preference. They're going to have to question all the lies they were told and if they are still holding onto hate based on that. That's hard if they aren't even sure what the lies were. It's going to be a process for them. We should give people the space and grace to get better. To deprogram themselves. But this does not mean there needs to be automatic forgiveness. Nobody needs to like anyone. But nobody needs to hate anyone either. Maybe the middle ground is we can grow some indifference or the ability to say, "I'm letting it go, this person is in progress, I can't control their journey, the ball is in their court."

If you were behaving badly, you've earned the suspicion of the people you hurt. A few of you are expressing amends, which is wonderful. But part of the thing with making amends is that you don't get to control the outcome. You make a genuine apology for EXACTLY what you've done, you own your part in it, and you don't make excuses... and from there, people may accept what you've said and they may not. They may forgive you immediately, they may take time, they may never forgive you. You have to learn to be good with that. It can be uncomfortable, to feel disliked, ESPECIALLY if the reason you got into the cult was because of that sense of belonging. Your impulse may be to keep giving explanations of how the group influenced you, to distance yourself. You may tell yourself, "I'm not that person, this isn't really me, it was the group." You want to be seen as CHANGED - virginal and new because you made the hard choice to finally leave the cult. ...It isn't that easy. You want the space and grace and you should get that. But guess what? You need to give that to others, too. You need to understand that people have real reasons to distrust you if you were exhibiting cruelty. And part of doing the work to make amends is the actual work. If you're serious about it, it means a lot of difficult self-reflection. You need to take an unflinching look at WHY you could ignore or participate in racism and lord knows plenty of other -isms, why outright defamation and death threats to actors and other fans were okay, why doxing people and trying to get them fired was seen as fair game, why trying to make someone feel hated and terrible about themselves was your impulse, why you were giggling and congratulating yourself for leaning into your worst impulses...until the group turned on you. Because that's the truth of the situation. You now have that self-knowledge of what you're willing to participate in. The question now is what are you going to do with that? I hope it includes therapy and I don't mean that glibly. I think it's possible there are some internet addictions going on where people crave the rush of getting Likes and engagement... and ragefarming is the best way to get engagement. If that's true... it will be EXTREMELY easy to move from the space of performing FOR the cult to performing AGAINST them, so that you can maintain your hit of Likes. And that is just sitting in the same behaviors. But if you're serious about getting better, if you're serious about being honest with yourself, you're going to need to fight against those inclinations. Please ask yourselves if you truly feel your apologies and want to change...or if maybe some part of you is just posting your attempt at amends because you want to fit in with those leaving or because you're craving that approval. Leaving is great! But are you getting the same psychological hit from your posts now? Are you trying to collect a new group that will lovebomb you because you're seeking self-esteem and miss the people who used to give it to you? I'm not saying this in judgment, I'm saying it because many people go from one cult or MLM to another, seeking that same sense of belonging. That's not my wish for you.

To the people on the other side of this... I'm not saying not to speak up if you see people slipping or people whose apologies are revealed as false words. I'm not trying to tone police people getting angry. There have been real reasons to be angry. HOWEVER... please be aware that if we want people to actually learn and grow we need to give them room to do that. There's nothing wrong with a really direct "This is really shitty and unkind behavior." Going scorched earth every time isn't the way. Is it our responsibility to motivate them to change, is it on us? Absolutely not. But are our actions going to unintentionally make them more likely to try and find a gang again because they're feeling defensive? If we also truly want to make things better, we have to ask ourselves what our goal is. Do we just want to give a tongue-lashing because we're angry? We might. And that can be justified sometimes in life. But cornered people don't often make great decisions. If what we want out of this is for people to be less terrible - there are ways to call people in and out, firmly and not sugarcoated, while still not going on the attack.

To the people who finally spoke up, you should be proud of yourselves for that. You took the first step. I hope you keep walking forward.

If you actually read to here... holy crap, I apologize. Many, many words, but I wanted to put them all down somewhere instead of continuing to overthink it at 3:30am. I do want to say... this is just my perspective. If it came off as trying to tell you how to do or feel, or like I think I'm perfect? Nah, kids. I'm a fallible screw-up, too, who is often "cringe," as the children say. We can all work on ourselves. At least that's the hope. If we're open to it.

Anyway. Love y'all, TGC

[omg-snakes]

What shipping company do you typically use to ship your snakes? I'm looking to ship 3 adult & 1 subadult cornsnake from (south)California to Florida, and I was also wondering what would be the best way to package them, like would bags or petri dishes be better? I have two males and two females, so would that influence how I should package them? Thanks for any advice you can give!

Hey friend!

I use Reptiles Express as my shipping partner. Redline and Ship Your Reptiles are other popular choices.

The sex of the snakes shouldn't impact how they are packaged, but the size of them definitely does. For anything larger than a yearling, I use snake bags rather than deli cups as they take up less space in a box and offer more cushion. This also prevents snakes from being rattled too much during transport. I put a couple of handfuls of soft bedding into the bags, but some folks prefer to put the snakes in without any bedding and have extra padding around the bags. Either works, just make sure the snakes can move enough to get comfortable in their bags but are padded enough that they won't be jostled if the box is dropped or shaken.

Make sure snakes have had ample time to digest before travel. For adults, don't feed them for at least 5-7 days before they ship out. It's better to skip a meal and arrive a little hungry than risk stress and motion sickness.

Make sure you order your shipping box from the company that you choose to ship with. Many shipping companies will put their own company name on the box, and if there's an issue during shipping FedEx might reach out to them, so you definitely want the shipping partner to be able to find your information easily if they need to contact you. Choose a box that will just fit all of your snakes and no larger. The bigger the box, the more padding and temperature regulation you'll need and the more it'll cost to ship. You'll probably need something like a 12x9x6 box, or thereabouts, depending on the size of the adults being shipped.

Most importantly this time of year, especially considering your shipping origin and destination, is temperature control. Do not ship unless temperatures are above 40 degrees and below 90 along your entire shipping route for the duration of travel. You may need to check with FedEx to determine which routing hub(s) your package would be traveling through, but it's likely either Oakland, CA or Memphis, TN if not both.

Depending on the size of your box, I recommend putting in at least two Phase22 Cryopak cooling packs, once on each side of the box, to maintain a safe internal temperature. These packs won't chill the snakes, but will absorb heat and keep the ambient temperature in your box lower than outside. Don't put them in direct contact with the snake bags, though, just to be safe.

One other thing is that you don't need to poke holes in the box for air, but don't tape up the corners when you're assembling your box. Reptiles don't use as much oxygen as mammals, so those corner gaps are enough to allow for gas exchange. Holes in the side reduce the structural integrity of the box and are just ways for pests and heat to get in.

I definitely recommend checking out the resources provided by each shipping company to see how exactly to pack up your snakes and give them the best and easiest possible trip. These companies want very much for you to succeed and they have guides and videos to walk you through every step of the process.

I wish you a smooth and stress-free experience!

[suzukiblu]

disappointed missing fearless

Cut for weird alien biology kinky porn but mostly just for length. Also, I don't know if there's an actual established ship name for Slobo/Kon but this is technically from a YJ polyam fic either way, so idk if it actually matters right now, hah.

Pretty sure I posted at least some of this excerpt before, but this SHOULD be the extended edition.

"The Boy Wonder just had to be our token straight," Kon grumbles, folding his arms. Which is whatever, fine, preferences are preferences and the dude's still his friend and he would still very literally die either for him or on his say-so, but is the idea of letting Kon go down on him every now and then and maybe also making out a little somewhere in there really that unappealing? Like, seriously? 

Bats are the freaking worst. 

"What's it matter?" Slobo asks, wrinkling his nose at him. 

"I mean, it doesn't matter-matter," Kon says with an exasperated sigh. "But also I just want to finally score some dick for once, man, and I still can't actually keep up with Bart's and Suzie only has one when she's in the right mood and Rob's isn't even into me, and I don't wanna go knock over a civilian for it, that's just–" 

"And that'd be all the options for dick currently available to your picky ass, yeah," Slobo cuts in dryly, leaning in towards him with a pointed look. Kon turns red. 

"Actually I kinda figured you were straight too," he says, glancing sidelong at the guy. "And very solidly monogamous, given all the time that you and Anita spend ignoring the rest of us in favor of rooms with doors that lock." 

"We ain't monogamous, she just don't like gettin' interrupted when she's in the mood. Though yeah, you're right about the straight thing," Slobo agrees with a dismissive shrug. "But also, look, I'm Czarnian. Which literally none of you bastiches are. And gonna be frank here, you and Anita got a lot more biological similarities to each other than Anita and a Czarnian chick would, so at this point I don't really give a shit what kind of hole I'm fraggin' so long as whoever it belongs to's got somethin' interestin' to say about the process." 

"Huh," Kon says, frowning to himself. "That literally never occurred to me as a thing that might be a thing, actually." 

"I mean, what, are you attracted to Branx and Bolovax Vikians and Karnans and Martians?" Slobo snorts dubiously. "Or frell, even Czarnians?" 

"Well, just the ones I like, but yeah," Kon says, a little puzzled by the question. They're all sentient species with free will and also he would absolutely let that one very specific Green Lantern just fucking step on him whenever the guy felt like it, so yeah, why wouldn't he be attracted to them? And . . . Kilowog, he's pretty sure said Green Lantern's name is? Kilowog's built like what a brick house wishes it could grow up and be. So Kon would definitely let him step on him. "Is that like . . . weird or something?" 

"Galactically speakin', yeah," Slobo says wryly. "Though I guess you're already a hybrid so I probably shoulda expected you to be less discriminatin' than the rest of the universe tends to." 

"So what, are you calling me a slut?" Kon snorts. "Like on a genetic level?" 

"Depends how many people you've screwed, galactically speakin'," Slobo says. 

"Not enough," Kon replies frankly. 

"Then yeah, pretty sure you're a slut," Slobo says with another shrug. "Especially if you miss dick bad enough to get in a snit on the couch over it." 

". . . I mean, okay, I haven't actually socialized with another dude's dick before," Kon admits grudgingly, making a face. "Unless watching gay porn counts, and to be honest I usually get bored if there's only one style of genitals onscreen so I don't do much of that. Just I just finally figured out that I fucking want dick and my options for getting it are frustratingly limited right now." 

"Then wanna actually socialize with mine?" Slobo suggests, which is an approach that Kon appreciates the straightforwardness of. "Seein' as it don't belong to a picky control freak or a hyperactive speedster or someone with a real fraggin' inconvenient tendency to turn intangible when they come." 

"Suzie does that?" Kon asks. 

"Accordin' to Anita," Slobo replies with a shrug. "And since I trust her with my literal fraggin' life at this point, I'm assumin' this ain't the thing she's picked to lie to me over." 

"Huh," Kon says. "Weird, but noted for future reference. And yeah, fuck it, let's socialize. Room with a lock, or . . . ?" 

"Naw, give Wonder Girl the chance to walk in on us, she wants to see your indestructible ass get wrecked real bad," Slobo says with a smirk, then sticks with that straightforward approach that Kon so rightly appreciates and immediately yanks his belt open and whips his dick out right there on the couch. It is not remotely proportionate to his build, and Kon definitely means that as a compliment. 

"Oh, is that the plan here?" Kon says, as someone whose mouth just went dry and who would also admittedly like to see his indestructible ass get wrecked for once. Like, that's a thing he'd like to get to do before he dies, that's all. 

"Damn right it is," Slobo says, smirking wider at him and giving his cock a meaningful squeeze. Kon glances down at it speculatively, wondering exactly how Czarnians fuck. Said cock is currently actively rising to the occasion, and also getting increasingly disproportionate to Slobo's build. 

Like. Very increasingly. 

Damn. 

"What'dya think? Wanna come on it, bastich?" Slobo asks with a leering grin and a very unsubtle tug. Kon flicks his eyes back to his face and just eyes him. 

. . . then he eyes his dick. 

It's actually, like, a very appealing dick. It might be a little smaller than Kon's own is, he thinks, but it's definitely comparable and still plenty damn big either way, all long and thick and heavy-looking, and it's got, like . . . ridges. Bumps. Textures. Like, Bad Dragon wishes it could design such a dick. 

. . . Jesus, actually, is that a knot at the base? And–

Oh. Okay. 

"Is your dick prehensile," Kon asks, officially just staring at it. 

It waves at him. 

"Is it?" Slobo asks with a smirk. 

"Fuck," Kon says as a downright vicious stab of arousal goes through his gut, and then he very suddenly feels very weird. Slobo cocks his head, looking surprised. 

Kon looks down at himself, because again, he feels weird. "Himself" is not there to be looked at. 

Well, like, it is. Just not in very . . . "him"-type fashion. 

"Huh," Kon says to the very nice pair of tits currently sitting all cute and perky under his S-shield. He blinks in absolute bemusement, and Slobo's expression lights up hungrily. 

"Shit, you really do like me, huh," he says, letting go of himself and reaching out to put his hands around Kon's suddenly very, very narrow waist. Like . . . way too far around, actually. That's . . . an experience. Wow. "Never had Kryptonian pussy before." 

Yeah, well, you're not the only one, Kon thinks only slightly hysterically.

"You can't get knocked up 'til you go through a full cycle, right, so can I stick it in raw?" Slobo asks like this is all just perfectly normal, which admittedly for all Kon knows about Slobo's life experience and alien biology in general it could in fact be. He thinks of several thousand reasons to say no, but given both who he is as a person and also how bad he really, really wants to finally score some dick for once . . .

"Yeah," he says, then half-reflexively flicks his eyes back down to Slobo's cock and licks his lips. Slobo grins. 

"Nice," he says. 

Anyway, Kon's suit lasts about five seconds after that. Which–it doesn't fit him quite right at the moment anyway, so it's whatever. It's very weird to see tits and ass and a statistically improbable amount of curves when he looks down at himself, but it's weirder feeling Slobo's hands and mouth roaming greedily all over said statistical improbabilities as the other pushes him down against the cushions. The prick hasn't even kissed him, which: rude much? 

Not that Kon's really complaining, because if he wanted "polite" that bad he wouldn't be socializing with Slobo at all, much less his dick, and Slobo is currently making his way down his body and clearly on a mission to kiss him somewhere. 

So yeah, the "weird" feelings are very rapidly losing out to the "holy shit, do that again" feelings. 

"Holy shit, do that again," Kon says. Slobo grins sharply up at him and then Kon meets his clit and his clit meets Slobo's very eager tongue and anyway Kon now officially and intimately understands why people who've got one bitch so damn much when a partner ignores it. Like wow, does he ever. "Ohhhhh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god–!" 

So that's pretty distracting, for at least a couple minutes there. 

Not that Kon's brain is in any condition to be noticing the passage of time right now. 

"Frag, you're already dripping. Wanna get off on my tongue a few times or just get straight to the main attraction?" Slobo asks as he hooks his hands around Kon's currently statistically improbable and also badly shaking thighs and licks his own very slick and shiny lips. Kon remembers the sight of the guy's big fat disproportionate dick very, very vividly, then immediately spreads his thighs as far as he can without the back of the couch interfering. 

Possibly he damages said back of the couch just a little bit in the process. 

Like, just barely. 

"Main attraction," he says firmly. Slobo grins at him again. 

"Damn, rolling out the red carpet here, ain't we," he says. "Gonna make a guy feel downright appreciated like this." 

"Put your dick in me right the fuck now or I will put you through the fucking wall, asshole," Kon threatens, and of course it's Slobo, so he just grins all the wider. 

"Fraggin' flirt," he says with obvious approval. 

Then he puts his dick in him. 

Kon's vision very literally whites out at the way Slobo feels sliding into him so big and hard and big and deep and big and good and he jerks up instinctively underneath him and makes some really, really undignified noises as his body seizes up. The couch might suffer a little more damage. Kon doesn't give the slightest bit of a fuck. 

"Holy shit, did you just fraggin' come?" Slobo asks in obvious delight. 

"Shut the fuck up," Kon barely gets out past the aftershocks making his whole damn body twitch and tremble under Slobo's, and Slobo laughs and sort of . . . rolls his hips, kind of, and Kon moans. 

"Shit, you're tight," Slobo says, sounding approving again, and this time in a way that makes Kon shudder even harder than he already is. "And soaked. Feels like I just stuck it in somebody's sloppy seconds. What do you think, bastich, want the whole thing in your snatch? Think you can take it?" 

"Yes," Kon chokes desperately, and Slobo does the only gentlemanly thing that Kon has ever seen him do, which is immediately just thrust into him balls deep. 

That is definitely a knot, yeah, Kon notes. 

And definitely Slobo's dick is prehensile. 

The literal only reason that Kon doesn't fucking scream is because they're in a building full of active superheroes and god fucking forbid somebody come and "save" him right now. Like, Cassie can watch if she really is into that, but if anybody in any way tries to fucking interrupt he is gonna straight up just become a supervillain. 

Unless it's a supervillain interrupting, he guesses, in which case he's just gonna take a page out of Wonder Woman's book and give them the Maxwell Lord special. 

Either way, he emphasizes deeply with Anita and her locked doors. 

Real deeply.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

this was quite a while ago so my memory is hazy but it still sort of bothers me, so

AITA for making a quick comment about a ship dynamic(???) i didn't like in the ship tag?

before you jump on my ass, this isn't pro/anti stuff. literally just a matter of preference.

not going to mention the specific characters or media in question for pure anonymity's sake. i'm just going to assign arbitrary names to the characters in question for readability. let's say Albert and Bartholomew, or something. and the ship name can be Fucking BartBert I Guess.

"Bartholomew" had a traumatic experience in his childhood that had a very large impact on his mental state, let's say. as a fan of. um. "bartbert". i had noticed a trend in fan works of this ship depicting an AU version of Bartholomew that had never had this traumatic event happen to him. not that there's anything wrong with that, really. i just found it sort of strange and i was more interested in the canon character, additionally i found it sort of comforting to think that Bartholomew was worthy of love scars and all, so to speak. so i made a short post in the tag expressing pretty much that. along the lines of "why is there so much fanart like this? can't he be loved the way he is?" or something like that, and tagged it as bartbert because i wanted to see other people's thoughts on it. in retrospect it could've been read as dismissive or inflammatory i suppose but i really didn't mean it like that. i was just a little bit annoyed and confused by it.

fast forward a little while and this person comes into my notes saying something along the lines of "for some reason i can't reblog this on my main, but it's because people have been nice enough to make fanart of the AU that i made." i didn't think i knew this person at all, so i essentially just responded trying to assure them that i don't know them and wasn't trying to attack their art or them personally or anything.

i'm not sure exactly what happened after that because it's been like 2 years but in essence, i had actually blocked their main a few months before, because they had been posting about that AU and i didn't like it, so i just blocked and moved on like i usually do with stuff like that because i didn't want to see it in the tags. i probably didn't even realize at the time that they were the creator of the AU. but this person pointed out that i had their main blocked as like, evidence that that post i had made was a personal attack against them, or something like that?? of course i didn't mean it in that way, i had just blocked their main months ago and forgotten about it, and i wasn't even really trying to be rude but they blocked me before i could try to explain myself.

i remember this whole thing pretty vividly because i was at the zoo with my family that day and feeling like i was being accused of something i didn't do, or being called mean or being picked on by someone with a much larger following than me presumably, just for making a single post the night before was really stressing me out on what was supposed to be a fun day. in addition i ended up leaving the fanbase for the work in question entirely pretty soon after because i didn't want people to think i was weird or mean. it's sort of colored my recollection of the work in general, which sucks because i do still really like it.

in retrospect i'm honestly not sure if what i did was wrong or not. i suppose i shouldn't have put negativity in the tag but also i feel like you should be allowed to express negative opinions the same as positive ones, right? as long as you aren't being a jackass about it. although at the same time i can sort of see their perspective because i think if i saw a post like that about something i had made i might've jumped straight to being defensive about it, too...

but anyways it's one of those memories that creeps up on me while i'm trying to go to sleep, so,

was i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[jpitha]

Awakenings

It's been said that every human comes out of hibernation differently. Some wake up as if they just had the best night's sleep of their lives, stretching and yawning and coming to consciousness gently, slowly. Others wake as if they were coming to after a night of partying; roughly, all at once, with a booming headache and fuzzy memories of the night before.

Alia woke screaming.

She sat up screaming, panicked, not knowing where she was. Her screams echoed in the cavernous room. The lights were dim around her, but she could see that the room was massive and empty. There were row after row after row of beds just like the one she was on, all made with cleaning linens waiting for people who weren't there.

Next to her was a data pad and a cup of coffee in a white mug on a little saucer.

The mug and saucer rattled gently with the rumbling vibration that Alia noticed only now. She turned and saw the pad had a message that read: "Read me please, Alia"

Taking a sip the coffee - it was hot, sweet and black, just the way she preferred it - She opened the pad. A message read:

Alia,

I'm sorry to wake you like this. Something has come up. After you finish your coffee and get dressed, please take the cart to the command deck, I'll explain more when you get there.

Best, Greylock

The ship woke her early and is asking for her to come up to the command deck? Something must be wrong. As she swung off the bed, she saw the clothes neatly folded next to the little electric cart. Quickly getting dressed, she grabbed the coffee and pad, and got into the cart. As she sat down it gently started off, preprogramed with its destination. As she rode, she looked around.

The Mt. Greylock was a colony ship. Fifty thousand souls, all in deep, long term hibernation were aboard all (hopefully) still asleep, awaiting for them to arrive at their new planet to begin the hard, rewarding process of setting up a new home for Humanity. This isn't the first time we've done this. Humanity has sent out at least a dozen colony ships, all throughout the Local Group to extend our reach and make sure humanity can grow and thrive.

The little cart came to a gentle stop in front of the door of the command deck. Alia got out and walked through the door.

The command deck was also empty and dark except for the command chair in the middle, which had a single spotlight on it.

Her chair.

She was the human commander of the Mt. Greylock. Together with the AI that was the ship, getting everyone to their new planet and starting a new colony was their responsibility.

Alia sat in the cold chair and said out loud "Okay Greylock. I'm here, I've had my coffee. What is it? You've woken me up during braking if the rumbling and rattling is any indication. Something must be wrong."

"Well, you see.." Greylock had a smooth alto voice and she had chosen female pronouns. AIs don't really have gender, but some choose to present with either masc or femme traits. "You see, I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Alia was incredulous

"We've received a message"

"From Earth? That's not that unusual. Maybe they have some updates for the colony package for us."

"Er, no. Not from Earth" Greylock said quietly.

Alia's blood ran cold. "From...another colony?" she asked, carefully.

"Sort of?" Greylock was audibly stressed. "Look. Why don't you just play it, I put it on your pad. That might help."

On her pad, a video came up. It was a human male and...something else.

Next to the human was a...a being, about a meter and a half tall, with large expressive eyes, reddish brown fur all over it's body, ears on the top of its head and maybe a tale in the background of the image? It was hard to tell. A sapient species?? But, humanity was alone in the galaxy. Humans have spent thousands of years alone, searching the whole time and never found anyone else.

She pressed the play button.

"Uh, Hello! My name is James Tennigan, and this is..." He gestured.

The sapient next to James spoke accented but very understandable Colonic, the language most humans off Earth spoke. "My name is Fellmeli Unmenniam and we represent the joint Human/K'laxi colony Zen'm'gan's Reach. We see that you have begun braking towards us. Two Starjumpers that were in-system and the Starbase are in agreement that you are most likely a Human colony ship coming to a stop here."

James nodded and continued "Yes, and we wanted to give you a few facts before you came in-system. One: Zen'm'gan's Reach is about 400 years old and has been a joint Human/K'laxi colony for 100 of those years. After we developed wormhole generators and the K'laxi showed us the Warp Gate system.."

Alia paused the video. "The what and the what?" she said

"I don't know either" Greylock said. "It sounds like humans developed some kind of wormhole generator and these K'laxi showed us an existing system of travel between systems. Sounds like we were missing out on a lot."

Alia restarted the video. "We merged with the existing K'laxi colony on this world a while ago. We can welcome all of you with open arms, but you won't be coming to a raw planet, ready to be shaped into a colony of your own making."

Fellmeli went on "And Two...We need your help. You, specifically, Alia Maplebrook, Co Captain of the Mt Greylock. We'll send another message when you're closer, but we wanted to get this message beamed as soon as possible to give the Mt Greylock time to wake you and prepare."

The message ended.

Alia looked up at the ceiling, then looked out into the empty command deck.

"Fuck Me." was all she said.

Update! Part two is here!