#like yeah okay and I fully agree but this clown literally does not exist

[xilinjiangart]

The amount of times I’ve had people be like “how can you like the Joker? Or SHIP him with people? 😱He’s so AWFUL 👹 he killed JASON 🤬 etc etc” is kinda funny

Like damn, that’s crazy. It’s almost like he’s a fictional character!

[itwoodbeprefect]

as someone who lived thru mcdanno, what are ur expectations for buddie? (fellow clown here)

fjdkfd god, i do love that question, thank you, but prepare yourself for too many words and perhaps not the answer you want to hear.

first off, i feel like i barely even really lived through mcdanno. i came in around the time season 9 started and caught up midway through, so at that point there had been a full eight and a bit seasons to very clearly set the tone on that show and in steve and danny's relationship, which is queerbait, times ten. i literally never expected anything else, and i fully knew what i was getting into from the get-go. h50 is also a show i'd place politcally either in the center or right of center, often aimed at more of a boomer audience (oh god that episode about the "millenial" vloggers who weren't even millenials HAUNTS me) and with a number of queer characters i could (extremely literally) count on my hands, of which by far most either get a) one single speaking line (if at all), b) killed or c) exposed as a criminal. overall it's not a show that's kind to queer people, is what i'm saying, and it was never very interested in being so.

911 on the other hand... is very similar in some fundamental ways, hence the huge overlap there seems to be in steve/danny people and buck/eddie people, but it's also very different in many other ways. it only has four seasons so far, of which eddie has only been present for three, and the ensemble cast is WAY more an actual ensemble than in h50, which is also supposedly about a kind of found family but is in reality most of the time the steve-and-danny or even the really-just-steve show. mcdanno just gets so much more airtime, both by existing number of seasons and by minutes on screen per episode. the 911 setup is not a bad thing whatsoever (i wish h50 had done more of that! daniel dae kim and grace park DESERVED more of that, jfc) but it does mean that honestly, when i started watching 911 with h50 fresh on my mind and all the comparisons i'd seen on tumblr, i was like, yeah, okay. i see why people might ship it, but compared to mcdanno buddie has barely any setup at all. (i'msorrydon'thateme.)

and this is where i might accidentally be getting controversial, and i'm sorry about that too, because i really don't mean to put a damper on anyone's joy, but while i agree that buck/eddie can be fun to explore as a ship, i just... don't necessarily think it's going to happen on screen? and that's okay. there is absolutely nothing wrong with shipping something that isn't canon and that might never be canon! that's totally cool! the only problem with that is when you start expecting something to happen in canon and you end up getting disappointed if it doesn't, because that hurts and getting hurt is no fun at all, and that's what worries me a little about buddie and 911 fandom. when i look at the tags some people seem... very convinced. and i get that too, because when a whole bunch of people are analyzing a show for hints of a specific ship, it's very easy to get swept up in it and it's a kind of echo chamber in which you all agree that it would be good and make sense and how could this not be what they're planning considering all you're seeing? but i'm just not sure, in this particular case, whether the rest of the audience and the writers are seeing the same thing, and i feel like there's a bit of a buddie hype going on based on what (to me!) in all honesty doesn't seem like that much evidence in canon, which just scares me a bit.

again, certainly not trying to tell anyone they shouldn't be having fun with buck/eddie (you should!!!) or that there's nothing to go by in canon, but just. please be careful with expectations from that canon? if something happens, that's awesome, and if it never does, that's also okay. it doesn't mean you're crazy, but it also doesn't mean the writers or showrunners or god forbid the actors are evil people who have been stringing you along. i get how loaded this can be, especially because there is such a huge history of shows not going for queer relationships purely because of homophobia, and it can be easy to read that into this situation, but this show already HAS a huge number of canonically queer main and recurring characters, who are all awesome and written as actual people with lots of friends and sympathetic storylines and hero moments and i don't think, honestly, that accusing 911 of homophobia or queerbaiting or bad writing for not making the two men fandom has latched onto go canon is going to, well, accomplish anything, except foster bitterness and ruin something for people that they used to enjoy.

all of that being said, and not to fly directly in the face of everything i just said, but... it could happen. i'm not saying it couldn't. coming back to that thing about h50 and queer characters, 911 is very incredibly wildly different in its treatment of its characters, and they DO have queer characters. they have A LOT of queer characters, to the blessed point where "character b can't be queer because character a already is" definitely doesn't apply, which it has many times in the past even if there is someone not straight in the cast of some show. so i mean. maybe! it's possible! 911 is not h50 at all, and that's a very good thing imo because as much as i enjoy mcdanno, h50 is honestly lowkey unwatchable as a show to me sometimes.

so, essentially, my personal expectations for buddie as a romantic thing in canon are not high, but i guess higher than they ever were for mcdanno, because at least buck and eddie are on a show where it's a remote possibility. i think it would be great - a queer slow burn on tv, that would be amazing - but i also think the show and buck and eddie's relationship would still be great if they never did it, and that all the other queer characters they already have probably deserve a lot more attention from fandom if queer rep is really what it's about, because hen and karen and josh and michael and david are all right there, and that's not even getting into lone star with paul and tk and carlos. mostly though i think that i don't want people to get disappointed. nobody ever expected anything to happen in h50, and that gives a kind of freedom of certainy that there isn't in 911, which makes me a little nervous for this fandom and the people in it. not to sound preachy, but be safe, have fun, and make sure that things keep being fun for you, because that's what fandom is about. if they're not, it might be time to take a break, and that's okay - it's normal to get really invested in something you enjoy, but please also put your own enjoyment and comfort first. (and it's still totally okay and can be a lot of fun to ship something that isn't canon.) ❤

[bigskydreaming]

IGN’s recent Bat-focused article (Batman: What Does Red Hood Need to Do to Get A Good Story?) praises fanfic writers and also is an amazing critique of how stagnant Jason has become under recent DC management and I’m so surprised at how good it is and how well thought out the solutions were

Hmmm. I just looked it up and I mean, I’m not trying to start anything but I both agree and disagree? Like, it makes some points for sure, I mean, its not like its saying things that I haven’t said a thousand times about Dick, like.....these characters need to be allowed access to a full range of emotions, both good and bad, in order to be fully fleshed out, so I mean yes on that premise alone I absolutely agree this is as true for Jason as it is for Dick or anyone else.

Tbh my only real criticism of the piece is it thinks Jason exists in a particular predicament the other characters aren’t in as well. And that I just don’t agree with, like they kinda lost me a bit with their first paragraph:

His complexities and moral ambiguity make him a compelling and distinct character among his more strait-laced Robin-brothers. Sadly, the character has seen little growth since his rage-filled reintroduction into comics. The ‘former Robin becomes a villain’ idea was enough for DC to coast on for a while but since rejoining the heroes, Red Hood has done little else.

First off, this may just be me being pedantic but I’m ALWAYS going to go fetch a grain of salt before continuing reading anything that pits Jason against his brothers in a war of his moral ambiguity against their strait-lacedness. Because to me, that’s just a fundamentally shallow view of the Batfam that caters to the idea that they each must have their own distinct niche in order to be fully viable individual characters, when a) no, and b) they don’t fit neatly into the niches people keep trying to slot them into and it never ends well for anybody. 

Like Jason is morally ambiguous in a lot of ways too, yes, but umm, even if we assume that the writer is only speaking of Dick, Tim and Damian, we’re talking a guy who beat the Joker to death with his bare hands and has ten assassins and mercenaries on his speed dial and who co-led the Outsiders, a guy who was deeply immersed in weighing the pros and cons of getting revenge for his father by getting Captain Boomerang killed and is forever being DMed by Ra’s because he’s convinced he can get Tim to say He Has Some Points Actually, and the kid who was an assassin with a body count by age ten and who has struggled constantly ever since his debut to define his OWN personal view of morality that is not wholly predicated on what he was taught by any single individual.

And this is a big part of where I part ways with the article, because I think it falls into the same trap that a lot of people do by believing fanfic is inherently better by doing the same thing from just a different angle. Fanfic CAN be better than the canon, I absolutely believe that, I believe it is at times, but to do so, it has to like, BE BETTER. It has to do things differently, and not just paint a slightly different veneer over the same things. Like, pedantic though it might be, I outlined the above issue because its a mode of thinking the canon absolutely falls into again and again, and just like the writer of that article themselves, like....I think fandom as a whole is no different? 

Like, yes there are great stories about Jason out there, some writers have done great and interesting things with him, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a huge trend in fandom of doing the exact same thing I see here.....which is honestly a huge part of the exact same problem the article is decrying canon for......LIMITING Jason (and all the Batfam) by reducing them and their stories to finite niches as a way of spotlighting them as different from their siblings.....except they’re not that different! And that’s okay! They don’t have to be! Families can have lots in common, families DO have lots in common due to like.....shared variables during their formative years. 

I mean Jason was heavily influenced by environmental factors in how and where he grew up before he ever met Batman, but like the article goes into itself, he was no less influenced by Bruce himself as his father figure.....which is something he absolutely has in common with his siblings, thus its not hard at all to see how his siblings could have similar complexities and moral struggles that stem from trying to reconcile Bruce’s influence with the many other things and people that have influenced their childhoods.

And similarly, while the article is dead-on about Jason’s stagnancy....this is something that applies in equal measure to the rest of his family, because they’re all facing the same issues in terms of how DC views and utilizes them, and fandom as much as it likes to condemn DC for doing just that....frequently does the same thing. Like, Jason’s stuck in canon, absolutely......but Dick keeps being popped out into his own microcosm to experience a couple years of stories that essentially turn him into completely different characters isolated from every communal part of his character’s history, and then ERASE everything that’s happened at the end of each of these stories and reset him to square one.....and that’s just a different kind of stagnancy that again, still never allows for actual character progression or development. Tim has LITERALLY been regressed back to Robin, like a hard reset that’s its own kind of stagnancy and Damian has had years of character development upended just to kick him back to where he started, effectively strip away all the connections he’s developed at least in any meaningful way, etc.....and the same holds true for Babs and Cass and Steph and even Bruce himself IMO, in a lot of ways.

Its absolutely a problem, but its a problem that extends far beyond just Jason even if he is a great example of it. And its also a problem that extends into fic itself, and that’s why I don’t agree with a lot of the conclusions that article draws beyond just the fundamental “these characters need to be allowed access to a full range of emotions.”

Yes. That. That right there, THAT I think is crucial, but I think that writer needed to widen the scope a little to take in the full impact of what that actually MEANS for the characters....so as to not accidentally repeat the same problem they’re being critical of by essentially arguing for a full range of emotions for Jason....while still defining or viewing Jason through a finite lens of “the more morally ambiguous Bat character, at least as compared to his brothers.”

Because its that last part that’s so detrimental, because it seems like such a little thing at first, until you realize that essentially its just putting a ceiling, a cap on how far those full ranges of emotions can be expressed. Like the problem with Dick Grayson in canon and fanon is NOT that he can’t be written with a full range of emotions.....its that his character absolutely can encompass a wide range of opinions and viewpoints and emotional stances from “I don’t believe in killing as a first option” to “I absolutely can, will, and have beaten a damn clown to death for joking about murdering my brother”.....and he can still walk away as Dick Grayson after expressing both those things, because his character is big enough to include them both. HE’S not limited as a character, its canon writers and fandom writers that both heap artificial limitations of their OWN on him, say that his character is so defined in such a specific way that there’s no way for the latter expression of his character to actually be IN character.....and the fatal flaw here is fully fleshed out characters are never just one thing. They don’t fit in niches anymore than people do, and notice the problems we all run into when we try and pigeon hole people as being just one thing, like humans can’t be contradictory or act against their own self-interest or be hypocritical or evolve or even regress past prior viewpoints....basically, any time you try and sum up a human being in one line, no matter how accurate that description is, there’s still SOME things that are going to be left out of that picture. 

Now, these things don’t always have to matter that much, like if I look at a serial killer and say that’s a serial killer, like, I might be leaving out of the picture that once he helped an old lady across the street and didn’t kill her and he doesn’t even know why, and I for one, simply do not care that I leave that out of the picture. Its irrelevant to the big picture for me. I can acknowledge that it adds a smidgen of nuance to that particular picture and then go yeah but also I don’t care, nuance denied.

But in terms of fictional characters, these things that get left in the discard pile when we try and sum up characters as just one thing, like, they can be hugely significant, because characters unlike real people, are simply WHAT WE MAKE OF THEM. That stuff that’s been left out of the big picture look at that character because its stuff most people to DEFINE what that character looks like have deemed irrelevant....its still there, and still perfectly relevant for anyone who wants to pick that stuff up and make something of it, use it to change the overall picture or even just point to ways and places that picture can absolutely encompass and include these other elements and STILL fundamentally be that same picture, that same character.

And this isn’t to say that characters can never be written out of character, its to say that usually IMO what ACTUALLY makes the difference between something being out of character and something just being an unexpected but still valid character choice is just.....how these things are executed. The latter is when writers make the effort to JUSTIFY their character choice, to sell audiences on why and how this is absolutely something this character would do, to take them on a journey of what led the character to making this choice and let them see how those steps actually line up, that’s an actual journey that character might take. The former is when writers just don’t bother and are just like, well here’s a thing that character did, and you know it was in character because well that’s the character and that’s what I wrote them doing lol, what more do you want. No. Yawn. Next.

But the trick is if you’re going to try and make a character a SPECTRUM of emotions and choices rather than just a same datapoint recurring over and over again endlessly, a literal sticking point that never advances, never progresses, never changes......you have to actually give that character free range to utilize that spectrum of emotions and choices.....not just confine them to accessing all those possibilities but ONLY within a narrowly defined niche that is its own kind of limitation.

A character can START from a logline, absolutely. Can BEGIN in a narrative niche as a way to INTRODUCE them as seemingly different from their surroundings or their peers when they do not yet have the backstory, the evidence of past stories and character choices readers can use to interpret their actions or guess their choices.....but narrative niches, IMO, are meant to have a shelf life, an expiration date. They’re a seed for characters to grow FROM, to grow PAST, not return to over and over again.....because that’s when a niche just becomes another house that stagnancy built.

Anyway, thanks for the thoughts and the article mention.....it was an interesting exploration of thoughts for me even if I didn’t ultimately agree with a lot of what was already said....still a worthwhile read though I think and I mean hey, its cool if you still agree with it more even if I don’t, lol. This is just my take.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-04-02

Alright I’ll fix the broken images later right now lets goooooo read the updaaaate I’ve been only spoiled on the chapter title

I don’t even wanna guess.  Jake?  This makes me think of Jake for some reason, even though that doesn’t make much se-- oh right the Vriskas are locked in a school closet with a dead clown.

> CHAPTER 7. Distress Call From the Closet

Yep.

Also, this is how a car design looks when it was invented to have its first appearance be it flying with a human named Tavros looking out from an open side door.

(I’m not ENTIRELY against designing something for its immediate-art-use-purpose first and functional or historical-origination thought later, but usually when you make it that obvious that that’s what your doing it’s best to make that fact funny.  Like the Conveniently Shaped Lamp.)

Also I appreciate this using of Candy as kind of more lighthearted breaks in the action?

> (==>)

I thoguht that protruding fang (?) was drool for a second and wondered what the fuck they were up to in this closet all of a sudden.

Vriska, thriving on it, has not felt so decadently alive in a very long time. Tavros has never in his tragic existence felt so close to death, which is surprising to him.

Vrissy is trying her best not to grapple with any cosmic truths at the moment, since she’s getting a phone call in the middle of hiding for her life.

Vrissy’s implied to be somewhere in-between all that by this joke.  I bet she’ll be comparing herself to Vriska and Tavros alike throughout this mess, wondering where on the spectrum she lands and being ashamed of it AND both of them regardless.  Vriska Original had a ghost version who went on a fair bit of a Page dress-up thing and personality shift, so maybe we could expect Vrissy to struggle with being caught in the middle of the scales... or does that qualify as overthinking it classpectways?

VRISSY: Yeah Harry I would say we are Extremely Aware of the Situ8ion. VRISSY: As it Unfolded the fuck all around us.

Good Christ, Vrissy’s selectively-capitalized Kanaya-isms continue to be cute.

Oh, he’s on speakerphone.

> (==>)

Yep, telling Rose and Kanaya would be the smart thing to do, but it isn’t the Them thing to do.

--ROXY’S PLACE?!??  Hoo boy.  On the other hand, though, we get more Roxy, so it evens out.

Also, I like how Harry Anderson has to spell out Harry Anderson’s entire name for his Harry Anderson chat tag every single time.  Harry Anderson.

> (==>)

Part of the reason, Tavros thinks, that he’s been so game to continue on with the worst plan anyone has ever concocted, is that the more bullshit they endure, the longer they can put off actually doing anything that matters.

If he’s getting sprayed with a sprinkler and getting clown feet in his face, it’s a farce. It can’t hurt him. But if they get to the part where he’s shoving the uncooperative weight of his uncle’s corpse in an incinerator, he will stop floating in protective semi-consciousness above his body and it will all be real.

Ouch.

Can’t one of you assholes just captchalogue him?  Or did you leave all the appropriate-strength moduses at home?  Even you Vriska??

Oh, right.  Everyone knows and you can just leave him here.  Good call.  I mean you don’t really have to worry about forensic evidence with the pictures circulating.

> (==>)

VRISKA: 8ye 8itch.

Oooh!  That feels satisfying!  Yeah, tell off Gamzee’s corpse!

...Wait.

If they just leave Gamzee there, Jane can revive him, can’t she.

Fuck.  Maybe it’s up to Jake to try and stop that.

> (==>)

Karkat and Meenah resistance-time, then, with them presumably hearing about this development on the internet.  Wow, Meenah’s horns are getting long fast.  Plus a hint more of her grown-up self’s height.  I didn’t think she’d keep maturing so fast with her absurd lifespan ahead of her.

Oh shit, I didn’t see at first--

Right, Candy might still be lighthearted compared to the broader plot just due to lowered stakes, but it’s still the Carpet-Bombing-and-War-Filled Shituniverse.

Trolls are made for the battlefield.

From the moment a troll oozes out of the mother grub’s pulsating sphincter, through the trials of the brooding caverns, across the brutal day to day slog of Alternian society, all the way to their Ordeals, to the sucking void of space. They are bred for nothing but endless war.

But Commander Vantas...Commander Vantas is different.

Is... is Meenah narrating right now?  Because fuck.

Or so all the pamphlets say.

The actual Commander Vantas has blisters on his heel and has been taking pot-shots at scouting drones for the last six hours. He could use a bath, honestly.

Or is this one of the trolls on the side narrating who’s kind of internalized the stories of trolls’ prior warlike nature?

> (==>)

MEENAH: yo nubs is that u MEENAH: pretty rank KARKAT: OH MY GOD. KARKAT: I FLATLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN SMELL MY NATURAL MUSK OVER THE STENCH OF BLOOD AND BURNING FLESH.

I guess it probably was Meenah narrating, then.  Unless it’s a really biased alt!Callie doing the talking.

MEENAH: didnt i warn u bout thinking tho? KARKAT: GOD DAMMIT MEENAH, DON’T MEME AT ME.

I don’t know what meme this is and I really don’t want to know.

They have had this argument more than once. In fact, both of them could play either side of it. Karkat has done his time in the field, of course, leading small guerilla operations to free prisoners and sabotage Crocker’s supply chains, but Meenah and the rest of the council is right. Which is why he’s here, instead of at the front lines with his rebels, where he belongs.

His true value is his face. His symbology. At the end of the day, he is a fucking ad campaign.

...is KARKAT narrating here???

SWIFER: boss check the news!

Oh shit, right, Swifer is in the resistance in Candy instead of just a breeding assistant in Meat as the bonuses remind us.

KARKAT: OH FUCK. MEENAH: what KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST. MEENAH: nubs i swear 2 god KARKAT: IT’S GAMZEE. KARKAT: HE’S DEAD. MEENAH: oh MEENAH: well shit KARKAT: I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS. MEENAH: u okay KARKAT: NO!

Huh.  Them’s some complicated feelings that could fall in basically all directions at once.

Also, I can’t believe Karkat has hung around humans enough to fully internalize the full-throated exclamation “JESUS CHRIST”, which wouldn’t even really be a thing on Earth C with people who aren’t from Earths B or A.

MEENAH: u outlawed fishpuns i gotta make my own fun

How could you, Karkat.

KARKAT: AND I GUESS IF YOU CALL AN OBSCENELY PUBLIC PALE ACT, PERFORMED IN A FUGUE OF DESPERATE PANIC INTENDED TO PREVENT HIM FROM MURDERING ALL OF MY FRIENDS INSTEAD OF JUST HALF OF THEM “A THING”. KARKAT: THEN YES, I GUESS WE HAD A THING. KARKAT: BUT IF YOU’RE ASKING ME IF I’M SAD THAT HE’S DEAD? KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

Okay, I’d hoped not, good...

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT WHY I’M SAYING FUCK A BUNCH OF TIMES. MEENAH: u need a reason to say fuck a buncha times KARKAT: SHUT UP. KARKAT: LOOK AT THE PICTURE.

--Right!  That’s a good reason to not be okay.

KARKAT: I DON’T THINK SO? I CAN’T SEE HER EYES IN THIS PICTURE, BUT SHE’S COVERED IN BLOOD, AND SHE’S CARRYING GAMZEE, SO SHE’S CORPOREAL AT LEAST.

I love this form of analysis somehow.

KARKAT: OKAY...HERE. OH. OF COURSE. CROCKER IS CLAIMING HER SON WAS KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO PARTICIPATE. KARKAT: AND THEY’VE NAMED ME AS THE MASTERMIND. MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one

Meenah isn’t the “concerned” type.  Lemonade out of lemons.

> (==>)

That middle tweet is my favorite.

Oh dear, “#GamzeeAnon”...

KARKAT: SHIT. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAVE TO DO WITH FUCKING SERKET. KARKAT: LITERAL MONTHS OF PLANNING, HOURS AND HOURS OF LOGISTICS, AND ALL OF IT GOES UP IN SMOKE BECAUSE OF ONE SPIDERY ASSHOLE. KARKAT: SHE *WOULD* FIND SOME WAY TO WRECK MY SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

indisputable

KARKAT: NOW? KARKAT: NOW WE PIVOT FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS.

Um...

What does that mean?

I’m having a lot of trouble not only understanding the basic meaning of what he’s saying, here, but understanding why KARKAT of all people would employ it.

......it’s a meme, isn’t it.  Gotta be.

> (==>)

(Ooh, an eyepatch designed to invoke a Strider-shade.  Nice.)

KARKAT: I NEED TO TALK TO EGBERT.

But....... why??

> (==>)

Oh right, cause his son’s girlfriend is involved.

> (==>)

Oh my goooood what a pair of John and Roxy caaaars! :D

He is too busy with these mental gymnastics to notice his father’s car parked outside.

Ah right.  John’s... not on the best terms with him, I recall that.

> (==>)

Ohhhh myyyy goooood what an image!!!

John, Roxy, and Harry Anderson proceed to have the tail end of a conversation they had before, in another medium.

What the fuck!?  Harry had that conversation WHILE this dead body situation was going on?!  Let me reread that linked bit...

(And she has such a somber smile on her face, but given the conversation content it’s not surprising.)

Harry Anderson looks at the two of them all teary and laughing and hikes his bag higher on his shoulder, shifting his weight. Roxy sees a muscle tighten in his jaw. Her beautiful, smart boy. She wants to run over and hug him, to protect him from the possibility of pain at talking to his father, but she doesn’t. She knows how much he’s wanted this, no matter how much he jokes about it.

She looks back at John, and sees her own awe mirrored in his face. She wills him not to cry, not to fall back on his self-imposed suffering and blame loop. Something about the last hour must have done the trick, though. John stands up, brushes his hands on his jeans, and walks, back straight, toward his son.

JOHN: hey harry anderson. JOHN: it’s really, really good to see you. JOHN: do you wanna go for a drive?

The muscle in Harry Anderson’s jaw clenches a few more times, but when he smiles, it is genuine.

HARRY ANDERSON: yeah, dad. HARRY ANDERSON: that could be cool.

Oh son of a bitch.  Well isn’t that entertaining.  Harry you’re just going to ditch your friends for I’m kidding, this is life fulfillment you’re aiming for, of COURSE you’re going to agree.  (Too bad bringing the current situation in is gonna throw a wrench in things.)

> (==>)

Oh right, that means more of THIS Vriska and THIS John.  They’ve had a good start talking already, I wonder what more they can learn from each other.

HARRY ANDERSON: but no worries, i asked my mom to pick me up some snacks so she’ll leave to go to the store in a sec. HARRY ANDERSON: just sneak in after she leaves and hide in my room, and i’ll be back in a bit.

Harry you enormous shortsighted asshole.  And John’s about to learn all this from Karkat over the phone to blow his cover.

> (==>)

aaaaa roxy art i cannot :D

Wonder if her stealthiness attunement is gonna catch them in the act?

> (==>)

From this jealousy bit, I wonder to what degree Earth C humans are used to Troll quadrants and their various interplay mores.

> (Room: Examine yourself.)

Oh, a proper room introduction for Harry Anderson!  Very fashion-focused, very liking the spotlight--

Oh wait, shit.  This is traditionally where classpect associations are hinted more obviously than anywhere else.  Time to stop holding back on the classpect stuff and take in every fucking word with capital-C Classpect fully in mind.

A bedroom stands empty. There is no boy standing in this bedroom, or indeed anyone else. However, if the boy whose bedroom it was were here, one might remark that his name was HARRY ANDERSON.

And FUCK, one might say, does he like MUSICAL THEATER.

Spotlight, definitely.  But is it for the attention? The possibilities? The acting?

He has been in his fair share of school plays, but he has LOFTY ASPIRATIONS to STAR in bigger and better productions. He especially appreciates modern MUSICAL REMAKES of classic OLD EARTH MOVIES. It's a craze that not everyone is happy about, but in the absent boy they have found a DEVOTED FAN. There is also just enough overlap between his taste and his father’s to allow for SOMEWHAT STILTED CONVERSATIONAL BONDING from time to time.

Hmmmm.  Is it about the majesty of important works of media (I see “Pokémon” and “Alien vs Predator” up there...), or is it about the fact that they’re remakes of past works?  Those are a lot of awards and stage lights now that I zoom in to look... and hats... hats could be important......

The boy who is not yet here has also been known to dabble in ACCESSORIZATION. He could be described as a COBBLER ASPIRANT, a NEOPHYTE MILLINER, or even a BIT OF A WHIZZ WITH A NEEDLE AND THREAD.

Oh, interesting!  Not just putting out different outfits, but making them?  And Milliner is hat-specific creation...

His mother got him his first SEWING MACHINE when he was 10, to keep him from using hers all the time. His looks are HAND-CRAFTED, often IMITATED, but never DUPLICATED.

Space is obviously possible from sewing, but-- A focus on uniqueness!!!  The broader theme is getting VERY specific.  You might feel where I’m leaning already.

His COSTUMES appear in various AMATEUR PRODUCTIONS, the devising of which takes up most of his FREE TIME. His friends are usually LESS APPRECIATIVE of his attempts to dress them up than he would like, though.

Holy fucking shit.  He dresses up and makes unique HATS for his friends and others.  Specifically so they can use them as COSTUMES to act parts!!!!

And the other unique thing mentioned about him here took the time aside to note how he appreciated the intersection in personal interests between him and his father for it.

So you all know what I’m thinking, right?  HATS???  It’s got to be Heart, isn’t it.  Maybe even a Page of Heart, with his long-off aspirations and talent for arming others with it.  Any other additive/giving class might do the trick, too, like Sylph or possibly Maid.  Knight could technically still fit pretty well, but I feel Page is better given what little we know so far, what with so much outward focus bleeding out.

(You can comb through the saga on my infamous hats tag or the summary on the Aspect Duality post, but the gist is that hats (and others’ clothes, but especially the hats. even shoes -- SO many shoes in that picture!) represent the gist of an expressed identity, personal uniqueness whether innate or affected ala a costume.  Nepeta, Dirk, Terezi, and even Stitch have given us examples, some of them deeper than we realized, MOST of them probably overthought bullshit like I thought when I first created the hats tag and started tracking the wonderful importance of hats. ¬_¬)

I’d like to see anyone else’s interpretation. (EDIT: One more potential Nep-allusion in this room.)

> (==>)

Oh nooooooo!!!!  Tavros’s sprite is the saddest looking thing I’ve ever seen!! D:  Like a mix of Jane and Jake that thoroughly regrets his entire existence!  Which he practically does!  D:  Why the Caliborn-like clothes though?

(Some hint at “how different alt!Callie’s Caliborn must have been” like the commentary suggested exploring in fanfiction?  Was the suggestion meant to divert attention from the idea that it’d be addressed in the plot?  Andrew pulled that trick a time or two, why not these authors?)

Also:

Pffff.  Vriska just accessorizing immediately--  Oh, wait.  That might just be a bandana she had at some point coated in Gamzee’s blood. 

Tavros is looking at the news on a borrowed phone -- nice call on disabling the tracking on yours, Tavros.

> (==>)

TAVROS: It’s getting a bit surreal to see my, uh,, frozen mask of horror on every news site,, TAVROS: It’s a good shot of you,,, though, Vrissy, VRISSY: It really is Shockingly well composed.

Heheheh.  It’s fun that Tavros knows exactly what Vrissy/ka would care about.

And yes, Vriska is over there trying out ALL the bandanas.

> (==>)

VRISSY: Oh, is trying on all my 8oyfriend’s accessories not passing the time well enough for you? VRISKA: Desper8 times call for desper8 measures, Vrissy. VRISKA: And this is some dire shit.

They stare each other down. Did she mean the fugitive situation, or Harry Anderson’s fashion choices? Vrissy feels silly wondering this, but despite the situation they’re in, she can’t help but feel more acutely anxious about Vriska’s presence.

She likes her life, and she trusts her own choices. But now, looking at everything from Vriska’s vantage point, it all feels silly. Unimportant. Childish.

She can’t tell if she wants Vriska to rip in to Harry Anderson or if she wants her to stay silent. To put off the moment where she has to defend him or join in.

Real interesting.  Like she’s caught between these worlds after all.

> (==>)

They say it was a long drive, but...?

...WOW.  What a chill, disinterested-looking affect his sprite makes for.  Huh.

He kisses Vrissy’s temple and she leans in to the warmth of him.

HARRY ANDERSON: aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. HARRY ANDERSON: so sorry it took so long. HARRY ANDERSON: can’t rush a heart to heart, you know how it is.

Stop making me deliberate whether you’re trying to drop teasing Heart-aspect hints.  You already know I’m going to be obsessively scrutinizing every word of dialogue around Harry to see if it fits, story. No need to rub it in.

VRISSY: You actually had a Heart to Heart with your dad? How many times did he Cry?

I DIDN’T EVEN READ THE NEXT LINE QUIT SAYING HEART TO HEART YOU EVEN GAVE IT PROPER CAPS THAT TIME

HARRY ANDERSON: but god, it was a mess. i had to keep talking to keep him from looking at his phone or turning on the radio. HARRY ANDERSON: i may have told him more about my deep passions and emotions in the last hour than the whole rest of my life combined, just to keep him from hearing the fucking news.

Holy shit.  You exploited conversation about your deep passions and interests for a separate goal???

Aaargh!  Classpect everywhere!  I’ve relapsed!!!  D:

> (==>)

JOHN IS SO HAPPY

John Egbert has not had a day like this in a very long time. He can barely keep track of this series of epiphanies he’s having. He stretches out on his couch to relax and process the gifts of advice and connection his friends and family and ex-family have just given him.

OH RIGHT TIME TO RUIN IT WITH MAXIMUM SHENANIGANS

JOHN: hey karkat! great timing! JOHN: so much just happened and im kind of reeling about it. KARKAT: YEAH NO SHIT.

Ohhhh.  Much of the time I hate dramatic irony, but those moments before someone is about to be let in on the discrepancy... oh man I love that.

JOHN: is something going on? i just spent the afternoon with my son, and i think he would have told me if something was up with his friends? KARKAT: OH MY LUSCIOUS SHITTING CHRIST JOHN LISTEN TO ME. JOHN: listening!

"Luscious”??  Did they try to type “Lusus” and get autocorrected?

Who’s writing Homestuck on their phone???

> (==>)

J...John?? Are you okay?? XD

This picture.  These two paragraphs.  I fucking love them.

(Wow, being closer to the “canon” story due to ridiculous shenanigans right after his back-to-back self-insights and outlook changes have really been healthy for him huh.  He can probably sense HS^2 reaching him out here.  And you can see the helpless comedian his probably-still-depressed ass became on Earth B in his reaction here. EDIT: Also, how appropriate that even by DYING, the Bard of Rage managed to fulfill his role and shatter the last vestiges of John's narrow-outlooked despair?)

John can’t answer. He can’t speak. His body has given itself over to the long-lost feeling of manic euphoria. It had felt like Harry Anderson was holding something back on the drive earlier, but he had already told John so much. He hadn’t wanted to press for more.

Yeah... after what John’s gone through across his life and session, finding out Harry managed to hide THIS for a whole car-ride is the best sort of punch-line for him.

John can’t breathe. Something is happening. Something is finally fucking happening, and he’s finally awake enough to appreciate it.

--yep.  I was just guessing earlier, but this kind of confirms it’s in part a closer-to-relevance, closer-to-canon feeling bleeding in.  Something is happening that’s important enough to SHOW onscreen and not skip over.  I guess he really does like being anchored in Light after all.

> (==>)

John wheezes himself into relative calm. He has to get Karkat to understand. He clears his throat and breathes.

JOHN: karkat, this can be how we win. JOHN: i know what we need to do.

...holy SHIT.

Karkat, how did you know calling JOHN about this would work out this well??

John actually taking confident action to solve a problem, in a way that isn’t going to end up depressing like his attempt to provide Tavros escape in the Epilogues... this should be interesting.

See you next time.  (I had to image-fix some stupid linked hat posts for this blogpost and I’m out of energy, so I’ll fix the other old post I promised that asker to fix in like, a day or two; I’ll post when I do.)

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 16 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hello pumpkins! Thank you so much for all the love, we adore you! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Sutan was smitten with a mysterious new girl, and Fame finally approved the Fashion Week designs.  

This Chapter: A mystery, a flea market, an apology,  a high society gathering, and a bedtime story.

***

“Come in!”

Katya pushed open Pearl’s door, then stood there, arms crossed, a deeply unhappy look on her face. Katya didn’t get mad very often, so when she did, people took it very seriously. Pearl took one look at her and scrambled up into a seated position on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” Pearl asked, a little worried.

“What did you do to Violet?”

“What…” Pearl scoffed, slightly offended. “What makes you think I did something?”

“Well, this is the third week in a row that she’s turned down our brunch invite. So naturally I assume you broke her poor heart. Didn’t you?!”

“No!” Pearl exclaimed. “In fact, if anyone broke anyone’s heart, it’s her! She completely ditched me at the Vogue party and now she’s acting like I don’t even exist.”

Katya narrowed her eyes, contemplating this claim. Pearl’s eyes were wide and innocent and she looked like she was telling the truth, but Katya wasn’t buying it. Something didn’t smell right.

“Huh.” Katya sat down beside Pearl on the bed. “Walk me through the party. Everything you remember.”

“Okay, so it started out great. She looked super hot; I looked super hot.”

“Naturally,” Katya chuckled.

“She didn’t want to do the whole step and repeat thing, but of course I have to, so she kind of stood to the side while I took some pictures, and I was like, clowning and flirting with her, and she seemed really into it. Real giggly and adorable.”

“Okay...” Katya raised an eyebrow.

“And then we went in, and she just...disappeared.” Pearl groaned. “I couldn’t find her anywhere. And the next thing I knew, she was sitting at the bar, flirting with some dude, having the time of her life-”

“Go back,” Katya said. “When you went into the party, you’re saying that she disappeared without saying one word to you?”

“Well, no, she said that she was going to get us drinks.”

“And what were you doing while she was getting drinks, Pearl?” Katya asked.

“I was dancing. Waiting for her! And...oh, shit.” Realization dawned in Pearl’s eyes. “Do you think she saw that girl kiss me?”

Katya covered her face with her hands, moaning, “Peeeearl, for fuck’s sake!”

“Well it was only like a second! A few seconds, tops! And I pushed her away!” Pearl defended herself. “And anyway, why wouldn’t she have said anything?!”

“Does she strike you as the type who enjoys confrontation?” Katya asked pointedly.

“No. No, definitely not. Ugh, fuck.”

“And anyway, what did you say when you saw her at the bar?”

“Uhhh...I kinda just...left.”

“Pearl!” Katya admonished.

“I was pissed! And I don’t like confrontation either.” Pearl crossed her arms sullenly.

“You need to talk to her.”

“Well, I’ve tried, Katya, but she doesn’t want to!”

Katya placed a hand on Pearl’s shoulder and said, “Try again.”

Pearl nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”  

***

“Patrick! Patrick, come here!”

Patrick looked around, trying to locate the face of his wife in the crowd of poorly-dressed shoppers who were surrounding them.

Fame had come home last night, fully drained after a long week at the office. When her mood and her energy levels hadn’t recovered after a long bath, Patrick had made a decision.

The Grand Market Place in New Jersey was one of Fame’s favorite places on Earth. Honestly, any flea market where Fame could walk around in peace was her happy place. Patrick had gotten their car out nice and early, not telling Fame where they were going until they were well on their way to the Lincoln tunnel, where she figured it out.

Patrick finally located Fame, waving at her as he made his way towards his wife, two strawberry melon coolers in his hand, one for each of them.

“Look! Look!” Fame smiled, her entire face lighting up as she held up a small porcelain figurine of a chicken.

“It’s a Royal Copley! See! The stamp is still there!” Fame turned the chicken upside down and showed him the bottom and the brand of the figurine. “It’s an original, I have to have this! It’s an Araucana, my favorite breed!”

Patrick laughed, basking in the joy Fame was radiating. He had sworn on his life that he would never tell anyone that Fame was an avid collector of porcelain animals, but chickens in particular. Her private collection had nearly 100 small chickens meticulously on display in one of Fame’s workrooms.

“I know it is, baby.” Patrick traded the drink and held his hand out for the figurine. Fame took a sip and smiled, not a single complaint falling from her lips over the sweetness of the drink as she turned around and started to argue with the woman in the stall over the price.

Patrick smiled to himself, thankful for the dork of a woman he had chosen to marry. Fame had grown up on a farm, her dad specializing in the breeding of rare chicken breeds for competitions all over the country and he loved seeing the side of her she normally kept so carefully hidden from the rest of the world.

Patrick took a sip of his drink, watching his woman. Spending some time outside of New York where literally no one knew either Fame or himself had been the right decision for today. It was liberating in the best of ways and just what they both needed, a Saturday away from the city in the early September sun.

***

Violet would have never opened the door if it wasn’t for the insistent knocking. She had tried to ignore it, had even made a cup of tea while desperately attempting to tune it out, but as the kettle whistled, Violet’s nerves had finally broken down.

She opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of Pearl’s face, her hand raised to knock for the hundredth time.

“Violet-”

“Go away.”

Violet tried to close the door, but Pearl shoved her foot forward, her heavy leather boot the only thing saving it from getting crushed.

“Please-” Pearl groaned, her hand grabbing the door and prying it open. “I brought you a housewarming gift.”

Pearl tilted her hip, and Violet saw that she was carrying a basket of what had to be top shelf liquor.

“You can keep it.”

Violet tried to close the door again, but Pearl’s grip was too strong.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole mess-”

Violet paused. Pearl never apologized. Ever. Sure, the blonde pleaded and played cute, knowing just how to say sorry without the words ever leaving her mouth, but she had just said them, and from what Violet could see, she actually meant them too.

“Can I come in, please?” Pearl sighed. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Fine.” Violet took a step back. “Two minutes.”

Violet had intended to be in control, but it wasn’t until she had let Pearl in that she realized the blonde hadn’t been in her apartment yet.

“Nice decorating.”

Violet felt a flush of shame wash over her. She hadn’t gotten anything done with her place, the apartment just as empty as it had been when she had just moved in, but with Courtney taking all her time at work, and Sutan getting what little she could spare outside of it, she hadn’t had time to get anything done.

“You wanted to talk-” Violet leaned against the wall. “Talk.”

It was clear that Pearl wasn’t used to being put on the spot, but she recovered quickly.

“First of all, I thought you were a real bitch when you randomly ditched me to flirt with some guy.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “Wha-” Pearl was being wildy unfair. “That’s not what happen-”

“And it really fucking bothered me. Especially because that didn’t seem like you. Ditching someone I mean-”

“I didn’t-”

”And I might have realized earlier today that you possibly saw me on the dance floor.”

Pearl’s admission felt like a slap to the face all over again. Violet had tried to forget Pearl kissing the redhead, she really had, but it seemed like the world was intent on reminding her of it every chance it got.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. Vivi, I swear, she’s just someone I used to mess around with. I pushed her away right after she kissed me. The only person I wanted that night was you. Pinky swear.”

“Pearl…” Violet wanted to accept the pinky swear, wanted to forgive Pearl so badly, the woman was one of the few people she considered friends, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hurting.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

It was true. Violet missed Pearl, missed their friendship, missed having fun and feeling young and stupid and so very alive.

“Can we please just be friends again?”

A part of Violet wanted to say no, wanted to do what she always did which was run away, but for once, she knew it was worth the risk.

“Of course.”

Hugging Pearl felt amazing, and Violet clung to her friend, her fingers buried in her blonde locks.

***

Violet hurried down the stairs, fumbling with her earring as she took them two at a time. She hated herself, but she was almost late to be picked up, the clock in the lobby telling her she only had two minutes before she was supposed to be out on the street.

Violet hadn’t meant to take so long, hadn’t wanted to be almost late, but she had changed her clothes one too many times, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies of nervousness.

Sutan had invited her out over text two days ago, and while Violet had agreed right away, it was driving her up the wall that she had no idea what they were doing and where they were going.

He had only told her to dress up, and that he had their tickets already booked, which wasn’t really much to go on.

Violet had agonised over what to wear for hours, but had ended up settling on a red evening gown, overdressed seeming like a much better option than underdressed.

She closed the lock on her earring, but as she reached out to grab the door, she felt her phone start to buzz away in her clutch. She could see Sutan through the glass in the door, a phone to his ear.

“I’m here!”

Sutan turned around, a smile breaking out on his face as he recognised her. He tapped on his phone, and Violet’s clutch finally stopped buzzing.

“Hello lovely eyes.”

Violet was just about to open her mouth to return his greeting, when she realised that he was holding a half smoked cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Violet bit her lip. This was the first time she had seen a cigarette in Sutan’s hand, his apartment not smelling of smoke at all.

“I don’t.”

Violet raised an eyebrow, and Sutan laughed.

“Okay, so, I guess I’m obviously smoking right now.” Sutan dropped the cigarette, and stepped on it, Violet barely holding in a groan as she couldn’t help but worry about the Gucci sole. “Raja has me by the ball with the whole new models thing.”

“Ah…” Violet was well aware, too aware, that Fame had already rejected over half of the girls Elite had suggested. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s not talk about work.” Sutan held a hand out, and Violet took it. She had expected him to pull her in for a kiss or a hug, but instead, he spun her around.

“Suta-” Violet wanted to protest, but her muscle memory had already taken over, her body following his lead as she twirled once, twice, before Sutan stopped her again.

“You look gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, her hand still in his . “Is it Valentino?”

Violet nodded. “2011.”

“It suits you.” Sutan pulled her in, and Violet followed, the man clearly going for a hello kiss, but Violet turned her head to the side, his lips hitting her cheek, clearly indicating to him that she wasn’t going to kiss someone who had just smoked.

“Mmh.” Sutan hummed against her cheek, and Violet barely contained a shiver, the scent of cigarettes and his aftershave overwhelming her.

***

“How long does it take to get there?”

Violet leaned back against the seat, her black hair spilling over her long and slender arms. Sutan had been absolutely serious when he had complimented Violet’s outfit, the red dress spectacular. The chest was what drew his attention though,  her delicate collarbones standing out, flounces flanking the bare skin, Violet’s small breasts half covered by the fabric.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sutan smirked, his driver pulling out from the sidewalk.

“Fine.”

“You’re not even going to pretend to want to know?” When he had told Violet he was keeping the evening date a surprise, he had expected a pointed reply, some nagging or at least a few texts, but Violet had simply accepted it, the woman he was sharing his car with once again so different from everyone else he would normally date.

“I can be patient.” Violet smiled, a teasing glimt in her eyes.

“It’s no fun if you’re not fighting to find out.” Sutan flicked Violet’s earring, which made her yelp and laugh, his move earning him a slap on the thigh. “We’re going to the reception for the new Ralph Pucci exhibition.”

“Wha-” Violet turned towards him. “Are you kidding me? Ralph Pucci, the Ralph Pucci?  Are you taking me to the reception of ‘The Art of the Mannequin’ exhibition at the MET?”

“The one and only.”

***

Violet was filled with glee.

She was at an actual reception at the MET as a proper guest. It was something she had longed for as a fashion student, and something she missed from her younger days, the atmosphere of a cultural premiere always something special.

They had already watched the opening talk and Sutan had gotten them glasses of champagne, the man offering his arm to her without question.

Violet had scanned the room when they had arrived, but there was no one there that she knew, no one who could potentially recognise her for who she used to be.

It was wonderful to walk through the exhibition with Sutan, the man saying quick hellos left and right, but he never strayed from Violet’s side. They each emptied two more glasses of champagne, sharing a few pieces of fruit from the platters the waiters carried around the museum halls.

“Oh.” Sutan leaned down, his breath hot as he whispered into Violet’s ear. “I just spotted Cory Bautista.”

“The co-owner of Model Management?”

“Of course you know who he is,” Sutan chuckled. “I have to go talk to him. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Afraid I can’t take care of myself?” Violet reached out, gently adjusting Sutan’s suit jacket.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Sutan placed a quick kiss on her lips before he walked away, allowing Violet to wander around the exhibition. She had no idea if Sutan had just been lucky when he picked the night's activity, but for Violet it was an absolute joy to get to look at and read about the history and evolution of the fashion mannequin and it’s creator.

Violet was just reading a sign, when she heard a voice besides her.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” It was a soft female voice, her tone almost melodical. “An artist who is actually appreciated in his own time.”

“It is…” Violet smiled to herself. She didn’t turn around, the art in front of her too exciting. “Can you believe they’re actually showing the original 1979 action mannequins? And look, they even have some of Michael Everts prototypes. Isn’t it fascinating? I love how you can clearly see the evolution.”

“Oh wow,” The voice chuckled. “You’re a real expert, huh?”

“Hardly.” Violet shook her head, “but I graduated from Parsons two years ago.”

“And what do you do now then? Do you work for the museum?”

“No, I actually-” Violet turned around, surprised to find an unmistakably familiar face. A face she’d seen splashed across tabloid covers while standing in line for the checkout as a child, the cheerful looking redhead providing some of the most colorful stories during the late 90s and early 2000s.

“Ms. Monsoon.”

“Jinkx.” The woman smiled warmly and held out her hand. She seemed charming and sweet, nothing like the irresponsible, brazen party girl the tabloids had painted her as years back. “And you are?”

“Violet. My name is Violet. I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you…” Violet trailed off uncertainly.

“Standing upright and speaking in coherent sentences?” Jinkx guessed with a chuckle.

“Well, no, I just-”

“It’s fine, sweetie. It’s always nice to surpass people’s expectations, even if they’re rock bottom.” Jinkx gave another crooked smile, the mischievous glint in her brown eyes telling Violet that she was in no way offended.

“I like your dress.”

Jinkx was wearing a bright scarlet gown. It was clearly custom made, the cut telling its own story of a competent tailor, but Violet wasn’t sure she would have ever paired it with Jinkx’s copper hair and red lipstick. The colors should be clashing horribly, but somehow, it was working

“Thank you! Coming from a Parsons alum, that’s quite the compliment,” Jinkx said. “You never told me where you work these days.”

“Oh, I’m at Galac-”

“Hey-” Violet turned around as Sutan walked up behind her, pressing a quick kiss against her temple. “Sorry I was gone for so-”

It was then that Sutan looked up, his entire body stiffening as he recognized who Violet was talking to.

“Jinkx.”

“Sutan, well well well. I’m not going to say I didn’t expect to see you here, but I certainly didn’t expect to see you in such excellent company.”

Violet couldn’t help but notice how quickly Jinkx’s demeanor had changed. She glanced from Sutan to Violet and then briefly at the ceiling, her face unreadable. She leveled her gaze back at Sutan, looking straight into his eyes, making Violet feel more than a little uncomfortable as Sutan responded to Jinkx’s stare.

“You’re looking very… radiant tonight.”

Violet could hear a sour, mocking note in Sutan’s silky voice. She had no idea what was going on, had never seen Sutan like this before and she couldn’t recognize the man who had whispered into her ear merely minutes before, the energy he was giving off now reminding her of Raja on her worst days.

“Whoaaa… Alert the presses,” a voice called out. “Since when are you two allowed in the same room?”

Violet turned to see none other than Bianca Del Rio approaching the group.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Violet couldn’t be sure that Bianca actually knew who she was, or would recognize her out of the context of the office, but she wasn’t prepared to stay and find out. She began to back away, doing her best to obscure her face from Bianca, her heart hammering away in her chest.

“Heya, red.” Bianca slipped an arm around Jinkx’s waist. “Is this asshole harassing you?”

“Shut up, B,” Sutan said. “Actually, I was just about to take my date and-” He glanced around for Violet, who was by now standing by one of the mannequins on the other side of the room. “Um…”

“Uh oh. Boy wonder got ditched?” Bianca joked.

“I knew she had good taste,” Jinkx replied, and both of them cackled gleefully.

“I’m glad you’re well, Jinkx,” Sutan said, sounding like he had to muster all of his strength to get out the sentence. “I’ll leave you to it.” He managed a smile, “Also, Bianca? Kiss my ass.”

Bianca laughed uproariously, raising her glass to him as he took his leave.

“Love you too, Tan!”

Sutan spotted Violet and took her hand, guiding her quickly to the far side of the room.

“What was that about?” inquired Violet as soon as they were at a safe distance away.

Sutan took a deep breath. “Jinkx and I used to be…” he groaned, wincing, before finishing, “...involved.”

“Seriously?” Violet couldn’t imagine Sutan and Jinkx together if her life depended on it; they seemed too different, like night and day.

“Yes. It didn’t end well, to say the least. But...that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Okay,” Violet said simply. If there was one thing she understood, it was the desire to forget your past, and who was she to probe, when there was so much she’d never want to share herself.

***

“Are you comfortable, baby?”

Katya and Trixie were together in bed, both of them wearing their matching fluffy pajamas.

Trixie nodded, a smile on his face as he snuggled into Katya’s side. Trixie came home from his bar night with Pearl pretty drunk, so Katya had brushed his teeth and tucked him into bed.

“Good.” Katya smiled and leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on Trixie’s forehead before she picked her book up. She had learned through countless nights in Trixie’s bed that there was nothing that put him to sleep easier than a book he found utterly boring.

“In 2008, a study from the University of Texas at Austin found that, ‘There are many inadequate high school facilities in Texas, and unfortunately many of these are found in areas of low socioeconomic status and high minority percentages.’ The researchers also determined that inadequate high school facilities and poor classroom conditions had a negative impact on students’ academic performance.”

Katya stopped her reading, completely horrified with what she had just read.

Trixie looked up at Katya, a sad look on his face.

“Keep reading baby… Keep reading.”

Katya smiled a little.

“The researchers found that high school students perform better on tests if the classroom has a view of a green landscape, rather than a windowless room, or a room with a view of another building or a parking lot.”

“You’re my green landscape, baby.”

Katya leaned down and kissed Trixie’s little bald spot. “You’re my green landscape too, baby.”

[flowerslut]

Hide and Seek

I did not ask permission to write this... so... I am hoping that writing this is okay. I asked for prompts. I received a prompt. I loved the prompt. I needed a scene for the prompt. I am... trying not to write angst so much. Humor is good! Humor is fun. Ruff Bois AU is fun. Ruff Bois honestly doesn’t even read as an AU; it’s likely canon at this point if we’re being real. Here’s a Ruff Bois story. Thank you @gayvampiretown for giving us the headcanons that we both need and deserve. A thousand apologies if I don’t do them justice.

Prompt: Emmett/Rose - “This is fun.” “Seriously, we’re trying to hide a body.”

(sent by @herokingrobbstark)

Rosalie has always lived with a keen understanding of the way relationships are supposed to work. There is give and take. There is patience. Communication. Love. Understanding. Sometimes there’s a compromise but oftentimes there’s collaboration.

As a human, with a heart that ardently craved affection, Rosalie saw very little of those things in the glimpses she observed between the couples in her life. Between her parents, rarely. Vera and her husband, often. But she remained stubborn as always, figuring that if anyone could have a pure, happy love, surely she could find it easily.

She found it ironic—and still does, honestly—that it wasn’t until her heart stopped beating when she found herself bearing witness to a true loving relationship.

First, in the serenity she witnessed between Carlisle and Esme. Their calm understanding of one another frustrated, then quickly baffled, and eventually soothed her.

Then, not long after, she found it reflected in herself and Emmett. A cool relief soothing the burn that had been eating away at her over the couple of years she’d been despising her own existence.

Over the decades she’s learned—well, they’ve learned together—what it takes to make things work. She’s learned that sometimes improper communication can start an argument, but a total lack of it will ensure one. She’s learned what it means to quiet her own heart and listen, and that truly opening up starts with acknowledging that there are things that need to be expressed and heard.

She especially acknowledges that although patience sometimes has a limit, it’s still vital in trying times.

And as she holds a camera in her hands, trying to hold her tongue, she doesn’t think it’s an overstatement at all to call this one of those ‘trying times’.

“Rose, baby. You have to at least aim the camera at us or we’re not going to be in the frame.”

Rosalie counts to three, inhales, and running her tongue across razor-sharp teeth, she exhales slowly. Then, she lifts the camera up a few inches.

“Would it kill you to look through the viewfinder?”

Someone smacks the second voice—the sound of stone hitting hardened flesh—and Rosalie closes her eyes.

Another slow inhale. Careful movements as she opens her eyes, opens the screen, flips it toward herself, and glances down. The camera doesn’t budge as she does this, her hand always steady, and when it focuses fully on the three people in front of her, she feels nothing but a resigned sort of reluctance, pushing down the contempt she feels for the shape-shifter carrying her adopted sister-in-law.

She makes eye contact with Bella, who smiles sympathetically, and slowly releases the breath.

When Emmett and Jacob had become friends, she’d... tolerated it. Sure, the dog was a constant bother (and a fucking asshole on top of it), and yeah, if Emmett wanted to be within five feet of her after they hung out she made him change and shower (sometimes twice), but hanging out with him made Emmett happy.

And she’d learned over the decades that sometimes she had to tolerate things for her husband’s happiness.

Her one rule when they started recording these mindless, inane videos: keep her out of it and she wouldn’t say anything negative about it, leaving them to their antics.

But then Emmett asked her to do his makeup on camera, and she couldn’t just say no to something that was admittedly so funny. Especially when he pouted as he asked. Damn his expressive, handsome face.

And then soon after he’d asked her to do Jacob’s makeup. And she couldn’t pass up the once-in-an-afterlife opportunity to make him look like a cheap, drunk clown.

Thankfully, Jasper takes up the reigns in following the pair around to document their nonsense, so the boys typically keep their shenanigans to themselves. Of course she does not understand how the blond got roped into helping them out with their ridiculous videos, but Rosalie feels nothing but disdain for Jasper currently.

Because no matter how much he claims to be annoyed by their antics, Jasper is a filthy, enabling traitor. One who owes her big time when he and Alice get back from their trip to New York.

“You know, Alice will kill you when she sees what you’re wearing for this bit.”

Bella looks up at Rosalie from where she is in Jacob’s arms and half-shrugs. The pant-suit fits her perfectly, tailored flawlessly thanks to Alice, but Bella has always hated being ‘styled’. “The sooner she stops spending money on me, the better.”

She had a point there. Alice had gotten better throughout the years with leaving Bella to her own devices, but could still be pretty insistent. 

“Bella dressed up for the adoring masses,” Jacob grins, turning to wink at the camera.

Rosalie doesn’t bother holding back her exaggerated gag.

“I really didn’t.”

“Either way, ask for more Bella, and ye shall receive!” Emmett is almost waist-deep in a hole that he’s been digging up with his bare hands for the better part of five minutes now. He could move faster, but he claims to enjoy moving at more of a human-pace for their videos.

Makes it easy for the humans watching to keep up. And for the camera to keep up, too.

Since they’ve found their spot in the woods—an uninhabited Rocky Mountain valley along the New Mexico/Colorado border—Emmett has gotten straight to work, looking to dig a deep enough hole to stick Bella in, while still standing, but small enough that it wouldn’t look too obvious.

“Can’t help that she’s a fan favorite.” Jacob’s words are clearly supposed to be a dig at her, meant to rile her up. But she’s so beyond caring what the people who watch their dumb videos think that all she can do is roll her eyes.

“This is never going to work, you know.”

“Hey!” Emmett shoots her a mock-frown. “No negativity on set. Also, yes it will. Edward will lose his shit trying to find her.”

“No offense, Bella,” Rosalie glares at a pile of dirt that Emmett tosses a bit too close to her, “because we all know I’m in favor of irritating Edward, but how do you know he’ll even care enough to come looking for you?”

The couple had recently had one of their first real fights since their marriage over a decade ago—or at least the worst one the rest of the family had all witnessed. Which meant a lot of attitude from the bronze-haired vampire, a lot of stubbornness from their newest vampire, and a lot of annoyance all around.

Edward had accompanied Renesmee on a trip back to Washington for a bit, but according to Alice, before she and Jasper left on their own trip, he’d be back early and would leave the hybrid girl behind to visit for a few days before letting her fly back to Illinois on her own.

And with the knowledge that Edward wasn’t around to fish any ideas out of their head, Emmett and Jacob went straight to work. Bella, who was still very much sore from their heated argument, had agreed wholeheartedly to the plan.

Jasper had literally tossed the camera into her hands (she should’ve just let the damn thing drop to the floor) and wished her luck, using his unique influence to ensure she’d be a bit more agreeable to the idea of potentially ‘helping out’, before Alice had whisked him out the door and off on their vacation.

‘Support your husband’s hobby’, he’d said. ‘It makes him happy,’ he’d said. ‘It’s just one video, you just point and shoot,’ he said.

The second his influence wore off she started swearing. They were going to be on Rosalie’s shit list for a while now. Jasper and Alice. Traitors. The both of them. Leaving her to deal with this shit.

Bella shrugs again as she watches Emmett chuck handful after handful of dirt out of the pit and off to the side. Then, she pulls a plastic bag out of her blazer pocket. “Oh,” she grins, turning to make eye contact with the blonde, “he’ll come looking alright.”

In the tightly bound plastic are the keys to all of Edward’s cars. Spare ones included.

Rosalie feels the smile creep onto her face. “Have I ever told you how much I cherish you as a sister?”

Bella’s grin widens as Jacob laughs.

“And you’re not worried that this will make things worse?” Despite his joy in heavily inconveniencing Edward Cullen, there’s a bit of apprehension hidden behind Jacob’s brown eyes.

“He didn’t even say goodbye to me before he left,” Rosalie can hear how thoroughly pissed Bella still is, even despite her even facial expression and the three weeks that have passed since the initial argument. “If he wants to play petty, we can play petty.”

Emmett’s laugh echoes through the area and before they realize it he is shoulder-deep in the hole.

“You guys do know this isn’t going to work though, right?” Despite the pleasure she will undoubtedly get from watching this punishment-like prank fail, she feels the need to make sure that they know this.

They have to know this, right?

“What are you talking about?” Emmett pokes his head up out of the hole, a mildly hurt look on his face. “You don’t think we can pull this off?”

“I know you can’t. He’s going to trace our scents to this exact spot.”

“No,” Jacob stubbornly shakes his head, “he’s going to trace my scent. Mine masks yours.”

Rosalie blinks at him twice. “Yes. Exactly. He’s going to trace your scent and find Bella.”

“But he won’t know where Bella is because he can’t follow her scent. And since he can’t read her mind it’s not like he can just listen in to zero in on her location.” More dirt gets tossed dangerously close to her and she finds herself glaring at the back of her husband’s head as he works.

Rosalie steps back. “But he’s going to know Jacob had something to do with it. It doesn’t matter who ‘hides’ her. He’s going to still follow the trail and find her.”

“We’ll take a long route home. Back track a bunch. Muddle up the trail.” Jacob’s answers are spoken with the confidence of someone who has undying faith in their own idiocy. It’s confidence he has no business possessing, and it’s incomparably annoying.

“Bella, you have two brain cells to rub together. You know he’s going to be able to track you down.”

“Alice said a storm is blowing through tomorrow night,” the girl supplied. “I’m hoping it washes away everyone’s scent.”

Rosalie grimaces. “You know if you hate that outfit that much you don’t have to wear it while you get buried underground, during a rainstorm, for several days.” She pictures how ungodly Bella is going to look after she’s unearthed and has to suppress a shudder. Her eyes then wander to Emmett’s dirty mop of hair and her frown deepens.

He’s not going to be touching her again until he’s scrubbed clean, head to toe.

“And let it collect dust? That would be rude.”

Jacob laughs again, and when Bella tries to get down from his hold, he nearly shouts. “Not yet! The only place your toes are touching is the bottom of that hole.

“I thought you said your scent masked ours?” Rosalie deadpanned.

“We still can’t be too careful.”

“This is your dumbest idea to date.”

“Just keep the camera on my good side, alright?” Jacob grins again and Rosalie simply turns the camera, cutting him entirely out of the frame. “Hey!”

“So, let’s say the trail gets muddled up. Edward can’t track her down. What do you think he’ll do next?”

Bella shrugs, as if uncaring how long it may take for her to be found, and Emmett turns toward her, pointing a finger at the camera. “Nothing! He has to find her! We already left the list of instructions on the front door. He has to find Bella within two weeks or he loses the challenge. And if he does Bella leaves her spot, hides the keys in a new spot, and comes home. Edward loses and has to eat a food of Bella’s choosing.”

“Yogurt,” Bella nods with a grimace, already aware of which food disgusts her husband the most.

“And when has Edward ever, since you started this shit, played by the rules for your little games?”

Emmett and Jacob share a concerned look, as if they hadn’t considered Edward would not be willing to play along, and Rosalie nearly bursts with a mixture of frustration and laughter.

She zooms in on their looks of apprehension. “You’re right,” she laughs, “This is fun.”

“Seriously,” Emmett throws his hands in the air dramatically, dirt flying toward the sky, decidedly not enjoying his wife’s teasing. “We’re trying to hide a body.”

“You know he can just get new keys.”

“Just ignore her,” Jacob nods to Emmett, gesturing for him to continue. “It’s a good idea. It will be gold.”

“And what gold are you expecting to get out of this?”

“His reactions are going to be fire,” Emmett has a grin in his voice as he hops out of the hole.

“And I take if you two will be recording his journey to find his buried wife?”

“You bet.” Jacob lowers Bella slowly into the hole, Emmett holding his hand over his brow, saluting as she’s lowered onto her feet.

“Right. So when Edward fishes the information out of one of your minds, then he’ll know where she is and come and get her?”

“No, because Bella will just—”

“Shield your minds?” The two men are silent.

Rosalie laughs as the two men shoot each other looks, as if realizing maybe this plan won’t work the way they’re hoping.

“In my defense,” Bella pipes up from her hole, “I told Jake this yesterday and he definitely brushed that detail aside. Either way,” she reaches up and smacks at Emmett’s foot, “fill her up. Whether this prank is internet-worthy or not means little to me at this point. I need to piss off my husband.”

Rosalie laughs louder and keeps the camera trained on her own husband’s look of defeat.

Collaboration to make a relationship work better? Sure, she can do that.

Quality time is a love language, after all.