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seriiousgiirl · 2 months ago

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𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝒿𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓍 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇.⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. alternate universe - canon divergence, post-silent Hill 2, angst and fluff and smut, touch-starved, redemption, grief, mourning, psychological trauma and horror, mutual pining, James adopted Laura, age difference, smut, vaginal sex, rough sex, rough kissing, aftercare, daddy kink, James deserves his happy ending, James is desperate and pathetic, based on the Silent Hill Games and mostly the remake

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Three years after the harrowing events in Silent Hill, James Sunderland has survived the haunting memories of his past but carries the heavy burden of grief and guilt. Adopting Laura, James strives to create a normal life for them both, but the echoes of his former life linger, haunting him in moments of solitude.

As he navigates the challenges of fatherhood and a corporate job, James grapples with PTSD and the lingering shadows of his late wife, Mary. His daily interactions are fraught with anxiety, especially when it comes to Laura's teacher, Y/n. Young, vibrant, and filled with warmth. But as Y/n becomes an unexpected source of comfort and tension in James's life. He is drawn to her kindness and beauty, yet he feels undeserving of her attention, burdened by the ghosts of his past.

When Y/n reaches out with genuine concern for James's well-being, he wrestles with feelings of guilt, lust and longing, torn between the desire for connection and the fear of betraying Mary's memory. As James's pent-up frustrations bubble to the surface, he finds himself navigating a complicated emotional landscape where love, loss, and redemption intertwine.

❛ Part 2 ⋅ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ⋅ requests ❜

➜ ┊ a/n: Hello everyone! After years of being more or less in the Silent Hill fandom, the remake rather inspired me... :') After seeing how cute James is in it, I felt like I was rediscovering his character. The story is a bit different from what we usually see, but I hope it will appeal to the (few, I don't think many would be interested in a silent hill fanfic) people who read it.

➜ ┊: chapter 1/?.

James woke up again, his body snapping upright in bed, his breath ragged and uneven as if he had just surfaced from drowning. His chest rose and fell with frantic breaths that refused to calm, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a prisoner desperate to escape. The room around him was silent, still, and blanketed in shadows, the faintest silver glow of the moon seeping through the thin, worn curtains. It painted his surroundings in an eerie light, enough to make out the vague shapes of his furniture but not enough to chase away the weight of the darkness.

He knew it was early—much too early. The alarm on his nightstand wouldn’t go off for hours, not until the unforgiving numbers clicked over to 7 a.m. He set it religiously, every night, clinging to the hope that one day he’d wake naturally to the sound, as if that simple act could restore some semblance of normalcy to his broken life.

But that never happened.

James never woke peacefully anymore. His body, his mind, refused to grant him that mercy. Instead, he jolted awake in a cold sweat, his body rigid, his pulse racing. Each time, it felt as though he was being pulled from some unseen nightmare—ripped out of a hellish dreamscape that he couldn’t remember clearly but always left its mark. The fear, the panic, the suffocating sense of dread stayed with him, lingering like smoke in the air long after his eyes had adjusted to the dim glow of his bedroom.

He pressed his palm against his face, wiping away the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin. His body felt tense, coiled like a spring that had been wound too tightly. His muscles ached from the constant strain, from the battles he fought every night within the confines of his mind. The nightmares weren’t just dreams. They were fragments of a past that refused to stay buried, haunting him in the dead of night when the world outside was quiet and his mind had no distractions to keep the demons at bay.

The medication bottles on his bedside table gleamed faintly in the moonlight, their labels worn from use. He reached for them out of habit, his fingers brushing the cool surface, but he didn’t open them. No matter how many pills he swallowed, how many prescriptions doctors wrote, nothing ever worked. Sleep was supposed to be a sanctuary, a refuge from the waking world, but for James, it had become another battleground.

He let his hand drop back to his lap, staring down at his shaking fingers. He could feel the tension still coursing through him, the residue of whatever nightmare had dragged him awake. His body hadn’t yet realised he was safe, that it was just a dream, and the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. Every night, it was the same—this restless terror that clung to him, trapping him in a cycle he couldn’t escape. He longed for sleep, yet feared it in equal measure, knowing that the darkness of his subconscious held more horrors than the light of day ever could.

For a moment, he considered lying back down, closing his eyes, and trying again.

But the thought alone made his stomach twist.

With a sigh, James decided to give up on sleep altogether. There was no use lying there, waiting for his heart to calm down or for the remnants of his nightmare to fade. His legs still trembled as he swung them over the side of the bed, the cool floor beneath him grounding him just enough to pull himself up. The shadows in the room seemed to shift as he stood, though he knew it was his mind playing tricks again. He had long stopped trusting the darkness.

He moved carefully, trying to stay silent as he made his way to the door, not wanting to wake Laura. She was the only constant in his life now, the only reason he hadn’t completely unravelled. But even the thought of her, sleeping peacefully down the hall, wasn’t enough to ease the tremor in his hands. As he stepped out of the bedroom, the familiar creak of the floorboards echoed too loud in the silence of the house, and for a fleeting moment, his breath hitched.

Sometimes, in these quiet hours, he could swear he heard them—the monsters. That same sickening creaking sound they made, their grotesque forms dragging across the cold. Or worse, the heavy, slow scrap of metal—a blade being dragged along the ground. His body tensed, instinctively waiting for the ominous presence of that thing— he came to call Pyramid Head. He hadn’t seen it in three years, but its presence still lingered, like a ghost lurking in the corners of his mind. His chest tightened as he imagined that scraping sound growing closer, louder, but he knew… or at least, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

On the worst days, though, it wasn’t just the monsters.

Sometimes, he would hear her—Mary. Her voice, soft and sweet, like the Mary he remembered before everything went wrong, calling out to him. It always started the same way, a gentle whisper at first, like she was in the next room, waiting for him. And each time, it grew louder, more urgent, until it was a siren’s call, relentless and cruel. It was enough to make his heart stop, to make him question everything, and then he’d remember—he knew where that call would lead. Straight into oblivion. Straight into the abyss of his own guilt.

On other nights, he could swear he felt Maria—her warmth next to him in bed, the way her body would press against his. It was so vivid, so painfully real, as though she hadn’t died in his arms multiple times, as though Silent Hill hadn’t swallowed her whole. She had been a ghost, a reflection of everything he had lost, and yet… sometimes she felt alive in those moments. His doctors told him it was all hallucinations, the remnants of trauma deeply embedded in his mind. Certified and explained away in clinical terms, but knowing that didn’t change how real it felt in those fleeting, terrifying seconds.

Even now, as he stood in the hallway, his breath uneven, James couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere—beneath the layers of his fragile reality—the horrors were still there, watching, waiting.

James padded quietly into the kitchen, his bare feet brushing against the cool tiles as he reached for a glass. The water flowed smoothly from the tap, cool and refreshing, and he drank it straight, the crispness washing over him. It helped clear his mind, if only for a moment, pushing back the lingering echoes of the night’s terrors.

After finishing the glass, he flicked on the small lamp in the living room, its soft glow spilling light across the space, chasing away the oppressive darkness. He made his way to the couch, settling himself in front of the window, where the city still lay shrouded in early morning silence. Outside, the world was just beginning to stir, but here in this moment, everything felt suspended in time.

They had moved far away from Silent Hill, away from Maine altogether, as if he was still trying to escape the town’s haunting pull. When Laura had expressed her desire for a place near the coast, saying she wanted to feel the warmth of the sun and breathe in the salty scent of the ocean, he had obliged her wishes. It was the least he could do for the little girl who had become his lifeline, the one bright spot in his otherwise dark world. It had taken time, but he had learned to appreciate the small things—like the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the way the sunlight danced on the water’s surface.

He pulled his journal from the side table, the worn leather cover familiar against his fingers. The pages were filled with thoughts, memories, and an ongoing dialogue with himself—one that his doctor had encouraged. Writing was meant to help him sort through his feelings, to separate reality from the nightmares that still clung to him like shadows. It was a way to document the moments that felt tangible, grounding him in the present.

With the pen poised above the page, he took a deep breath, letting the silence of the morning wrap around him.

Date: [XX/10/1993]

Another night of waking up in a cold sweat. The dreams feel heavier lately, more vivid. I can still hear Mary’s voice sometimes, like she’s calling out to me. I know it’s not real, but the longing… It’s hard to escape. I need to remember that I’m here now. That I have Laura. She needs me to be present. I need to plan my day—take her to the beach, show her the tide pools, maybe? She deserves to explore, to laugh, to feel alive. Maybe it will help me too.

James paused, staring at the words he’d just written. The ink was still wet, and he felt the weight of each line pressing against his chest, a mixture of hope and dread swirling within him.

He continued, allowing his thoughts to flow onto the page.

I’ve been thinking about the way the ocean looks at dawn. It’s a beautiful sight, the horizon slowly illuminated by the first light of day. I want to share that with Laura. She deserves to see the world as it is. Maybe if I can show her that, it’ll help me remember what it feels like to be alive, too.

He turned the page, feeling the familiar texture beneath his fingertips, grounding him in a moment that felt too fragile. The nightmares are starting to blur again. It’s like I’m drifting between memories and dreams. I know I should talk to Dr. Fischer about it, but I hate feeling so exposed. Every time I sit across from him, it’s like peeling back layers of skin. I don’t want to keep reliving the past, but I also know I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s a part of me now—part of what makes me who I am.

But sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing enough. If I’m enough. Laura is so full of life—she deserves happiness, yet I feel like a ghost in my own home. The laughter that fills this place is often followed by a silence that weighs heavily on me, as if I’m a spectator in my own life, watching a play where I don’t belong.

He paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, fighting against the swell of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Some days, I can still hear Mary’s laughter, the way it used to light up the room, but now it’s a whisper in the wind. I wish I could reach out to her, ask her for forgiveness, tell her how much I miss her. But she’s gone, and I’m left with nothing but my guilt and the memories that won’t let me go. It’s a bitter irony—I have another chance at life with Laura, yet I feel more alone than ever.

I thought time would heal me, that the scars would fade, but each day feels like a new reminder of what I’ve lost. I watch Laura play, her laughter cutting through the silence, and it fills me with joy and pain all at once. I want to protect her, to shield her from the darkness I carry. But how can I do that when I’m still fighting my own battles?

Anyway, plan for today: Take Laura to the beach, explore the tide pools, and have a picnic.

As he continued to write, the rhythm of his thoughts began to settle, the initial chaos giving way to clarity. He documented everything he hoped to achieve that day, the things that could distract him.

After some time, the soft patter of small feet echoed in the hallway, and Laura emerged from her room, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep. She settled next to James on the couch, curling her legs beneath her as she leaned against his shoulder, still waking up.

“Did you even sleep at all?” she mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of slumber.

James chuckled softly, the sound warm and gentle. “Just a little. You know how it is,” he replied, glancing down at her. The early morning light filtered through the window, illuminating her features and casting a soft glow around them.

“Not again,” Laura sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “You should really take better care of yourself, you know.”

James smiled, closing his journal and setting it aside, feeling the comforting weight of their shared silence. His relationship with Laura had evolved significantly since that first day they met. In the beginning, there was an undeniable tension, a wall between them built from grief and uncertainty. Laura had been sharp-tongued and defiant, often testing his patience with her stubbornness. But over time, that wall had crumbled, brick by brick, revealing a bond that had become more profound and genuine.

“Maybe I just like the quiet,” he teased, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “It gives me time to think.”

Laura rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, right. More like you spend it worrying about everything,” she shot back, her familiar sass coming through. But he could sense the softness in her demeanour, the way she had begun to let him in, and it filled him with gratitude.

There were still moments when she wouldn’t call him “Dad”—it felt too heavy, too final—but there had been instances where the word slipped out, once or twice. The first time he had felt a rush of warmth and something almost like fear at her words. It had caught him off guard, pulling at his heartstrings in a way he hadn’t expected. It was one night after a particularly rough day at school.

The kids had been relentless, and when she had come home, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She had cried so much that night, seeking solace in his arms, and in that moment of vulnerability, she had whispered it—Dad—like it was a fragile promise, something she wanted to believe in.

He had held her tightly, whispering reassurances as she poured out her heart. It was one of the hardest days for both of them, but that single word had changed everything, reinforcing their bond in ways he never thought possible.

The shrill sound of James’s alarm cut through the quiet morning, signalling that it was finally 7 a.m. He groaned softly, the sudden noise pulling him from the lingering remnants of his thoughts. “Time to get moving,” he muttered to himself before swinging his legs off the couch and standing up.

“Laura,” he called out gently, “you need to get ready for school.”

Laura groaned but slowly pushed herself upright, her hair sticking up in tousled spikes. “Do I have to?” she whined, rubbing her eyes.

“Yes, you do,” James replied with a chuckle, heading into the kitchen to start breakfast. He could already hear her muttering under her breath as she dragged herself away from the comfort of the couch, but he couldn’t help but smile at her antics. As he prepared breakfast, the scent of eggs and toast filled the air, mixing with the cool October breeze that slipped in through the slightly ajar window.

He could hear the soft shuffle of Laura getting ready in the background, her footsteps echoing through the hallway.

When breakfast was ready, he set the table, placing a plate in front of her just as she joined him. They ate together in comfortable silence, the clinking of forks the only sound between them for a few moments.

“So, there’s this kid in class…” Laura began, her voice a mix of enthusiasm and worry. As she recounted her stories, James listened attentively, nodding along as she shared her concerns about a class project and the kids who were teasing her again. She spoke with an earnestness that made him proud, she was a smart little girl.

“...and I do think the teacher likes me a lot,” she finished, her voice dropping slightly, smiling shyly.

James reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on hers. “You’re doing great, Laura. I’m so proud of you,” he encouraged, hoping to convey his support.

Once they finished breakfast, he cleared the table while she dashed back to her room to grab her backpack. The familiar morning routine helped ground him, a stark contrast to the chaos that often filled his mind.

Then, James returned to his room, feeling the familiar weight of his thoughts returning. He turned on the water for a shower, the warm spray washing over him, almost as if he were trying to cleanse himself of his sins and guilt. Each droplet felt like it could wash away a little more of his guilt, his pain, and his memories.

After his shower, he stood in front of the mirror, towel drying his ash-blond hair and tidying it up, shaving his stubble. The cold air from outside seeped through the window, sending a shiver down his spine as he dressed for the day. He pulled on a simple shirt and jeans.

But as James stood in front of his closet, the morning light filtering through the curtains, his gaze fell upon his signature khaki jacket hanging quietly amidst his other clothes. For a moment, he hesitated, his heart tightening.

The jacket felt heavy with the weight of the past. He recalled the feel of it against his skin as he navigated the fog-laden streets, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth it provided. It had shielded him from the elements, yes, but it had also cloaked him in the pain of his choices, the guilt that clung to him like a second skin.

James swallowed hard, staring at the jacket, the muted fabric whispering secrets of the past. He could almost hear the echoes of Mary’s voice, feel the pang of loss that accompanied every memory. It was as if the jacket was tainted, infused with the blood and tears of that time—but also her scent, her warmth and gentle touch.

Perhaps… Today, he could indulge himself.

He took a deep breath, fighting against the swell of anxiety that rose within him. This jacket is just a piece of clothing, James, he reminded himself, yet it felt like so much more. With a decisive moment, he pulled it from the hanger and slipped it on, the familiar weight settling comfortably on his shoulders.

James looked at himself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was a man still fighting battles. With a shameful sigh, he adjusted the collar, feeling the jacket’s fabric against his skin. When he stepped outside, the brisk October wind greeted him, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside.

Laura stood at the door, a look of surprise mixed with concern crossing her face.

“Why are you still wearing that jacket?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gestured to the fabric. “You know… after everything that happened in...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the name of the haunting town.

James shrugged, a faint smile creeping onto his face. “I still like it. It’s comfortable.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “You’re so weird, James,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as they made their way down the path toward the car.

“Weird or not, let’s get you to school on time little girl,” he said, his tone quite firm. Together, they stepped into the brisk morning air, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

‧───────────────

Dropping Laura off at school had become a routine, but for James, it was anything but simple. As they approached the bustling entrance, he felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a sense of dread creeping over him like a heavy fog. It wasn’t the school itself or the noise of children chattering and laughing; it was the attention he attracted.

In a small town where traditional family structures were the norm, a single father with a daughter who didn’t even remotely resemble him stood out like a sore thumb. James had chosen to keep his past private, and he was grateful that Laura’s adoption remained a secret. He avoided any conversations that might lead to questions about their relationship or as to why he was alone, fearing the scrutiny that came with revealing the truth. After all, in the eyes of the world, he was just a man dropping off his daughter, and that was how he wanted it to stay.

As they parked and stepped out of the car, the sun shone brightly, but it felt cold against his skin. He could already sense the gazes of the mothers lingering on him as he helped Laura with her backpack. Their eyes were sharp, curious, sizing him up like sharks circling prey, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of vulnerability. James kept his head down, focusing on Laura as she adjusted her straps and prepared to head inside.

“Have a good day, okay?” he said, forcing a smile as she turned to him, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she waved goodbye.

“Bye, James!” she called, her voice full of cheer as she dashed toward the school gates, her ponytail swinging behind her.

With her back turned, James felt the full weight of the mothers’ stares. He could almost hear the whispers beneath their breath, speculating about him—why he was alone, where Laura’s mother was, and why they didn’t look alike. It was all too easy to imagine the conclusions they would jump to, and he wanted no part of it.

Every step he took toward his car felt like walking through a minefield. He avoided eye contact at all costs, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground as he navigated through the throngs of parents and children. Conversations buzzed around him, but he focused solely on his breathing, trying to ignore the anxiety tightening around his chest.

As he passed a small group of mothers standing near the entrance, he couldn’t help but catch snippets of their conversations, even as he tried to block them out.

“Did you see him? He looks so sad,” one of them whispered, her voice dripping with faux concern. “Who could leave such a handsome man alone?”

James felt a familiar flush creep up his neck, a mix of embarrassment and irritation. He quickened his pace, but their comments followed him like shadows.

“I know, right? A single father is so sexy,” another chimed in. “I wish my husband was as committed to our son’s school life.”

He clenched his jaw, biting back a retort. The last thing he wanted was to be part of their gossip, yet he was helpless against the words that floated through the air like smoke. Each compliment felt like a reminder of everything he wanted to avoid—attention, scrutiny, and the inevitable questions.

As he reached the edge of the parking lot, he heard another mother say, “I heard there’s a parents-teacher meeting tonight. Can you imagine? He’ll probably be all alone again. It’s such a shame.”

The words hit him like a cold slap, and he paused, taking a moment to gather himself. The thought of attending the meeting, sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over him. Why did they have to bring that up now?

He finally reached his car, fumbling for his keys in his pocket as he tried to push the whispers from his mind. The weight of judgement lingered in the air, but he didn’t look back. He slipped into the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly as he gripped the steering wheel. “Just another day,” he murmured to himself, willing his heart to calm.

James had avoided women religiously since he came back, erecting barriers around himself that felt both protective and suffocating. The loss of Mary had left a gaping hole in his heart, one that he couldn’t bear to fill with anyone else. Allowing himself to indulge in the warmth of another felt like an insult to her memory.

In the years following her death, he had retreated into himself, building walls high enough to keep the world—and the painful reminders of his past—at bay. He threw himself into fatherhood, pouring all his energy into raising Laura and ensuring she felt loved and secure. She was his anchor, the one bright spot in the dark fog of his grief. Yet, in avoiding connections with women, he had inadvertently created a deep well of pent-up frustrations within himself—frustrations that simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Every time he caught himself looking at a woman, whether it was a fleeting glance at a passerby or—especially a longer gaze at Laura’s teacher during a school event, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. What am I doing? He would ask himself, immediately diverting his eyes, as if the very act of looking was a betrayal of the love he once held dear. He had convinced himself that he wasn’t ready to move forward, but in truth, he was terrified of what that would mean.

In the quiet moments, when he was alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the weight of his solitude. The nights grew long and lonely, and sometimes he found himself longing for the comfort of another person—a hand to hold, a voice to soothe him.

But the thought of crossing that line felt insurmountable, like stepping onto a precipice with no way back. He often wondered if this self-imposed exile was healthy or just a way of avoiding the inevitable. Deep down, he knew that if he ever did let someone in, it would come with a torrent of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face—the guilt, the grief, and the fear of moving on without forgetting.

Sometimes, when the darkness of the night enveloped him and the oppressive solitude weighed heavily upon his chest, James found himself struggling to resist his deepest, most shameful urges. Alone in the dim light of his bedroom, the air thick with silence, he would reach for the only source of warmth he had left—his own body.

But every time he started to jerk himself, trying to think about anyone other than Mary, he would falter. His thoughts would slip, no matter how hard he tried to redirect them. The moment he ventured into the realm of fantasy, attempting to conjure images of the warmth he longed for, his mind would betray him. Instead of the embrace of another, he would see Mary’s face—her soft smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the lightness in her laughter that had once filled their home. The memory of her enveloped him, suffocating and punishing him in its intensity, and he would feel a deep-seated shame clawing at his insides.

But jerking off while thinking about his dead wife, the one he had killed, felt utterly wrong.

With a trembling hand, he'd stroke his hardening cock, trying to drown out the memories that haunted him. But no matter how hard he tried to push them away, they always crept back in, taking over his mind and filling him with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Images of Mary would flood his vision, her soft smile and sparkling eyes etched into his mind, along with the lightness of her laughter that once filled their home.

As he stroked faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, he could feel the pressure building inside him. But just as he was about to reach the edge of ecstasy, he would see her face again, and the guilt would consume him. How could he possibly find pleasure in this, knowing what he had done to her?

The guilt was overwhelming, flooding his senses as he would try to push it all away, but it clung to him like a shadow. Tears would fill his eyes, hot and stinging, blurring his vision as the shame washed over him. He would cry, feeling pathetic and broken, as if indulging in his own body was another betrayal on a long list he had made in his mind. How could I even think of anyone else? He would chastise himself, the guilt wrapping around his heart like a vice, squeezing tighter until it became unbearable.

Knowing that he could never truly find solace in this act, James would eventually release his warm cum spilling onto his hand and stomach. But even in the aftermath of his orgasm, the guilt remained, and he would lie there, spent and broken, wondering how he could ever redeem himself.

It was a cycle of longing and despair that left him feeling more isolated than before. He would swipe at his tears, but they would keep coming, relentless and unyielding. The echoes of his cries seemed to linger in the air, a haunting reminder that he was still trapped in a cycle of grief that he could never escape…

‧───────────────

The day had finally drawn to a close, and the muted hum of office chatter began to fade as the fluorescent lights overhead flickered in their final moments. James gathered his belongings, the familiar weight of his briefcase resting heavily in his hand. The corporate world had wrapped around him like a well-worn coat, the same job he had held before, one that felt both calming and predictable.

It paid well enough to keep the bills at bay and provided a stable life for him and Laura, allowing him to indulge her little whims—the occasional treat, a new book or doll, or even a day out at the beach.

As he waved goodbye to his coworkers, offering polite smiles and half-hearted chuckles, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of isolation. Their lives seemed so vibrant, filled with laughter and casual conversations about weekend plans, while he felt like an outsider peering in. Part of him wished he could simply slip away unnoticed, disappearing into the anonymity of the evening. But the thought of the upcoming parent-teacher meeting loomed over him like a dark cloud, the spectre of his insecurities rising to the surface.

What if Laura’s teacher had concerns about her progress? What if she brought up issues he was completely unaware of? The prospect of engaging in a discussion that could highlight his shortcomings as a parent filled him with an unfamiliar anxiety. He recalled how he had struggled to help her with her homework due to his absent mind, the frustration evident in both their faces as they would argue over James’ implications. Laura would always end up saying that she wished she had a better family…

As he walked through the now empty parking lot, James’s mind drifted to the scenario of the meeting. Maybe it was a bit late, and he secretly hoped Laura’s teacher wouldn’t want to linger past the working usual hour to talk with him. He envisioned himself slipping away, feigning an urgent call or an unforeseen obligation, but guilt gnawed at him, tugging at his conscience.

He couldn’t let Laura down; she had come to rely on him, and he owed it to her to at least try.

“Just get through it,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the impending doubts swirling in his mind. The crisp October air washed over him like a cleansing wave, invigorating him for just a moment. Inhaling deeply, he felt the coolness slice through the tension that had built up in his chest throughout the day, if only temporarily.

Sliding into the driver’s seat of his ageing car, he turned the key in the ignition, the familiar rumble reassuring him, if only slightly. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard; he still had a little time before he needed to pick Laura up from school. As he drove toward the school, the streets blurred by in a rush of colors, and he allowed himself to mentally prepare for the meeting.

Maybe he could muster enough courage by the time he arrived, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this meeting would push him closer to confronting the ghosts of his past—something he had been desperately trying to avoid.

Thoughts of Mary flitted through his mind, uninvited yet persistent. What would she think of him now? Would she be proud of how he was trying to raise Laura, or would she shake her head in disappointment? These questions haunted him as he navigated the familiar streets. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions roiling within him.

The school building came into view, and he parked in a spot near the entrance. As he sat there for a moment, staring at the looming structure that housed his daughter’s daily adventures. With a deep breath, he pushed open the car door, stepping out into the cool evening air.

As he approached the entrance, he reminded himself that this was part of the job of being a parent—a role he was still desperately trying to fully embrace. After all, it was true she deserved more than a father lost in his own grief.

As he approached the school gate, he spotted her standing there, the last child waiting to be picked up. His heart sank at the sight; he had hoped to arrive earlier, to be there for her when the final bell rang. A wave of guilt washed over him, but when Laura turned and her face lit up with a smile, that guilt was momentarily pushed aside.

At least she wasn’t angry.

“James!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful, as she stretched out her hand toward him. He could see a small backpack slung over her shoulder, and his heart swelled at how she looked—so much like a little girl embracing the world, unbothered by the worries that often plagued him.

“Hey,” he replied, kneeling slightly to take her small hand in his.

As he thanked the school attendant, a friendly woman with kind eyes who had watched over Laura, he glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her teacher. He didn’t see anyone lingering by the entrance, and a relieved sigh escaped him. Perhaps she had decided to leave, not waiting for him to discuss whatever concerns she may have had about Laura. That was one less thing for him to handle, and he felt a slight weight lift off his shoulders.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” he suggested, his tone light as he turned to lead Laura away. The sight of her eager nod and bright smile made his heart feel lighter, even if just for a moment. He began to walk toward the car, feeling a sense of normalcy return to him—until a soft voice called out behind him.

“Mr. Sunderland!”

Here’s an expansion on James' perception of you:

James turned, the sound of your voice pulling him back from his thoughts. You were striding toward him, your expression a mix of determination and urgency, the late afternoon light catching in your soft hair.

There was something striking about your presence that always made his heart race, even amidst the rising anxiety he felt at these interactions. It was as if you carried a warmth with you, an energy that seemed to radiate in the space around you, igniting a flicker of something long dormant within him.

“I was just about to leave,” you said, a hint of breathlessness in your tone as you approached. “I wanted to talk to you before you went. Is this a good time?” You looked unsure.

James glanced at Laura, who was watching the exchange with curious eyes. He felt the familiar knot of anxiety twist in his stomach but nodded, trying to mask his apprehension with a calm demeanour. “Sure, I have a moment.”

“Laura’s been doing really well, by the way,” you continued, your voice lightening as you spoke about his daughter. “She’s incredibly bright and has made some good friends this semester. I’m really proud of her progress.”

James felt a flicker of warmth at your praise. He was grateful to see Laura thriving, especially after the rough patches they had navigated together. “Thank you. I know she’s been working hard,” he replied, glancing down at her, who was beaming at your words.

“But…” you paused, your tone shifting slightly. “There are some areas where she might need a bit more support. I think if we work together, we can help her really shine.”

James felt a wave of gratitude and unease wash over him. While he wanted to support Laura, the idea of deeper involvement with her teaching felt daunting. “What do you suggest?”

Your eyes met his, and he felt a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability in that gaze. You began outlining a few ideas, your passion for teaching evident in your animated gestures. He found himself hanging on your words, drawn in by the way you spoke.

As you began to speak about Laura’s progress, he couldn't help but take in the little details—the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about the kids, the way your hands moved animatedly as you explained your thoughts, and the curve of your soft pink lips. It struck him how youthful and beautiful you looked, filled with a vibrancy that he found both comforting and terrifying.

He had known you for years since Laura started school, but he had always kept his distance, avoiding lingering too long in your presence. Every encounter felt like a double-edged sword; he wanted to connect, to know you better, but the fear of what that meant held him back. Your passion for teaching shone through, and it was evident that you genuinely cared for each child, especially his daughter.

Yet, for James, that made you all the more dangerous. It was a kind of warmth that he couldn’t dare to approach or touch, as if it would burn his skin. Your laughter and bright smiles were like sunlight piercing through the clouds, illuminating the shadows that loomed over his heart.

But it also reminded him of how far removed he was from that happiness.

The innocence and light you carried felt worlds away from the darkness he had endured. It made him question if he was even deserving of your kindness, let alone your attention—even if it was strictly professional. You had a purity about you that felt both inviting and forbidding. It was the kind of innocence that reminded him of everything he had hoped for once—everything he felt unworthy of now. How could someone like you, who radiated joy and hope, ever understand the darkness that clung to him? The guilt and despair that wrapped around his heart like a vice?

Yet, as you continued, he realised that part of him didn’t want this moment to end. Just a short while ago, he had dreaded this conversation, but now he found himself wishing to listen to your soft voice all night long.

As you concluded your thoughts about Laura, your smile remained bright, and for a moment, James caught himself wishing he could linger just a bit longer in your presence, absorbing the warmth you exuded. But the instinct to retreat kicked in, a familiar defence mechanism rising to shield him from the vulnerability he felt around you.

“Thanks for the feedback,” he said, forcing a smile as he tried to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside him. “I appreciate you taking the time.”

You smiled back, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—curiosity, concern?

He couldn’t quite decipher it.

As you stood there, a moment of silence stretched between you, and James noticed a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. You looked shy, as if you were unsure whether you were crossing a line by speaking up.

“Mr. Sunderland,” you began, your voice soft, “are you okay? I’ve noticed you’ve looked... a bit tired lately.”

The question caught him off guard, and for a fleeting moment, he found himself wondering if it was painfully oblivious or truly observant of the details that everyone else seemed to overlook. But quickly, he concluded that he must have been projecting his exhaustion more than he realised, and he must definitely look tired.

The question wasn’t intimate.

He forced a smile, trying to shake off the weight of your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, dismissing your worry as he nodded almost vigorously. “Just, you know, work and everything.”

For a heartbeat, you searched his face, perhaps hoping to see something more, a glimpse of the truth that lay beneath his carefully crafted exterior. But after a moment of hesitation, you seemed to accept his response. You nodded, though there was still a hint of worry shadowing your features.

“If you or Laura need anything, please let me know,” you insisted gently. “I’d be more than happy to help.”

The kindness in your offer made his chest tighten, his heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and desire. He appreciated it, truly, but it also fueled the raging fire of lust that had consumed him. Here you were, simply trying to be helpful, and yet he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have you all to himself, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

His mind raced with vivid, graphic images of you—unbuttoning your shirt, revealing your tantalising curves; running his hands over your smooth skin; kissing and licking your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. He could almost taste the sweet moan that would escape your parted lips, the moan of a woman ready to surrender to his sinful, wanton needs. The very idea of it made his breath catch in his throat and his cock twitch in his pants.

He felt like a beast, a predator stalking its prey, as he watched you. Every move you made was a tease, every word you spoke a seductive whisper that echoed in his mind and stoked the flames of his desire. You were a forbidden, irresistible delight that he craved with every fibre of his being.

“Thank you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper and his voice painfully strained. “That means a lot.” He managed to nod, hoping to convey his gratitude without revealing the turmoil churning inside him.

James' lips curled into a polite smile, but his dark thoughts raged like wildfire beneath the surface. He tried to ignore the forced gentleness of his own tone, reminding himself that he was only being polite. Yet, every word he uttered was weighed down by heavy lust for you, and the knowledge that he should never let these desires surface again.

As you stood there, a mixture of warmth and uncertainty radiating from your presence, he felt a pang of regret. You were offering him a lifeline, yet he felt as though he was dragging you into a murky depth he didn’t know how to escape. The moment hung between you, a fragile thread of connection that he wanted to reach for, yet feared would only end in disappointment. In your eyes, he saw kindness, concern, and a spark of something he dared not acknowledge. But with every passing second, he also felt the walls he had built around himself begin to tremble, as if you might be the catalyst for change he had been both longing for and dreading.

“I should go,” you said, breaking the silence, and James felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment wash over him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing his mind to focus on the present. “Thank you Miss, and have a good night.”

You offered him one last warm smile before turning to leave, and he watched you go, feeling the weight of what had happened. The kindness you had shown him stirred something deep within—a longing he couldn’t quite satisfy.

#silent hill #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 remake #silent hill james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james sunderland x reader #smut #james sunderland/reader #x reader #female reader

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neithoftheveil · 3 days ago

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Neith’s TGCF Fic Recs:

I’ve never made a rec list before, but for Christmas, I wanted to share some (not all—by god, we’d be here forever) of the fics saved to my kindle, some of my bookmarks, and some of my friends’ works (with overlap between those categories).

In no particular order:

tell you every day by scrapimmortal

Adorable amnesia Wulian oneshot that makes me smile.

melt (i’d tell them; put me back in it) by scrapimmortal

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve read this, I would have many dollars; perfection.

The flap of a butterfly’s wing by Ameji

Really enjoyed the political and personal drama in this one. A fun, exciting read that got me thinking about how to approach my own fics.

Pig in the Garden by illuminatingsceadugunga

I love FengQing’s heads exploding over hualian being married pre-third ascension; it’s delightful—very fun fic!

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit

The anticipation in chapter 1 was literally killing me; so excited to see more!

Land of the Callous by starvingwritist

A very fun, well-constructed truth serum Xianle quartet fic; Hualian are perfect for each other, truly. Couldn’t wait to see what would go wrong (and right)!

Heaven is Overwhelming by crispytaco

I love selective mutism fics; this one is very sweet! Comfort read.

there’s no rush by miska_za

Very sweet marathon sex; another comfort read.

quiet like stains by haysel

This soulmate AU has permanently altered my brain. It’s my favorite modern AU.

and the rain won’t make any difference by haysel

The atmosphere and the emotion? Out of this world. Love at first sight that takes your breath away. So sweet.

Your Courage, Your Despair by boomchick

I think about this fic at least once a week. Hualian hurt/comfort is my favorite thing.

‘Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

Cannot watch the s2 opening of the donghua without getting nostalgia for this fic. Love the OCs. Love the characterization of XL. I would live in this fic if I could.

The Road I Walked Alone by aewea

Gives me literal chills every time (love it). What would happen if the play at the Mid-Autumn Banquet was actually the 100 swords scene.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by paidsubscription

Couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Love this author’s AUs. Always so well thought out. And the “ghost citizens” are amazingly written!

The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate

The way this author writes Mu Qing makes me feral. FengQing get married before Xie Lian ascends a third time. It’s horny. It’s fun.

I can feel your halo by illuminate

Probably my favorite fengqing fanfic; I’ve read it a dozen times! Mu Qing’s spiritual powers are stolen, and he takes full advantage of them being gone to fulfill some long-buried desires.

common love isn’t for us by nobirdstofly

A really fun, dynamic piece that plays with FengQing’s deputy disguises. Hot too!

I Want to Ki** You by tyelperintal

I love every interaction Xie Lian and Mu Qing have in this piece, especially when XL gives way too many details about his sex life in order to help MQ navigate his desire for FX.

Wu Ming Loving Hours by featherpoet

A cute and inventive what-if. A canon divergence from Wuming’s death.

When I Was Older by corduroyserpent

An emotional time travel fic I love. Read it twice. Plan to reread soon!

Nameless Longing by corduroyserpent

A follow-up to the above fic; the “good boy” lives rent free in my brain. A roleplay Wulian fic with a twist ending.

Against All Odds by yuushoku

A really sweet royalty AU where Hua Cheng has to pass three trials to wed Xie Lian. Comfort read.

bring a light by uraa

A cute wangxian/hualian crossover!

charcoal daydreams by beesinspades

One of the first fics I read for this fandom! The first tgcf fic I ever downloaded! Artist HC runs into his old crush when XL applies to be his model.

steady love (in a place we know) by beesinspades

Hurts my heart but in a good way; it’s like missing someone who’s right in front of you. Hualian go on a road trip.

Is he, you know, a follower of Ju Yang? by airawyn

Very cute! Love the fengqing dynamic and banter!

Your Touch Means Everything to Me by fayleen

Love the tension in this one! A canon-divergent first kiss after the Banyue arc.

The State of You by peppaspray

Hot and sweet! Hua Cheng trying to seduce his husband in different forms.

to be seen by blessinglanterns

An interesting look at Hua Cheng coming back from being dispersed on Tonglu. Very sweet.

If you love me for me by fullmetalpotterhead

A really adorable royalty AU where Hua Cheng needs to marry Xie Lian for political reasons but quickly falls in love with him after he disguises himself in order to meet XL before their wedding.

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hualian #hua cheng #mu qing #fengqing #feng xin

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leidensygdom · 9 months ago

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The ways in which being asexual feels isolating

I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.

So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.

But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.

And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.

Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"

Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.

And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!

I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.

Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.

#lgbt #lgbtq #asexual #asexuality #aromantism #aro #ace #aroace #aromanticism #queer #long post

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fuckyeahimafangirl · 13 days ago

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I come here late to give my opinion on what Nicole Maines said in her book about the Supercorp fandom (go to Twitter for more info, but she basically gave her point of view of things as a queer actor on the show having expected things from the queer fans, confirmed we were being queerbaited while also blaming us for some actors getting fired). I appreciate her side of things and feel for her. But reading that I felt that A LOT was overlooked, especially the context of it all. So sit back if you care enough to read this and come with me as I go on a rant and we go down memory lane to give some context into what it was like to watch Supergirl live as a Supercorp fan.

The first season of Supergirl had its fair share of ships. People liked Kara/Cat, Kara/James, Kara/Win maybe anyone? I don't remember that one but I'm sure there were people out there who liked them. Some people even liked Alex/Kara (a conversation for another time). Kara/Cat shippers could also like Kara/James, because both ships had some strong foundations in the narrative, they were undeniably good ships, regardless of how you feel about age-difference relationships or straight relationships lol. There wasn't mostly an issue, except with the ones that liked Kara/Alex.

In between the first and second season of Supergirl it was announced that a main character would be gay. They didn't say who, though. Speculation began, of course. They did say that Maggie Sawyer was coming to the show but it was not confirmed that she was going to be a lesbian and even less whose love interest.

Then the second season premiered. And in the very first episode Kara Danvers meets Lena Luthor. Their scenes together were filled with sexual tension from the very beginning, look at their meeting scene without context and a bit of an open mind and most people will see their chemistry and think that maybe Kara was meeting her soulmate. And the first scene of Supergirl meeting Lena Luthor? It was already drawing a parallel between them and Lois/Clark, one of most iconic, recognizable and undeniable canon ships of all time. Drawing parallels between these two ships was the creators of the show's favorite pastime and it started from day one, before the ship had any fans because we hadn't met Lena just yet.

But in that episode we did meet her. And we fell in love fast. Because their interactions and the interest concept of Lena's character were good. Could it really be that Kara was the main gay character? Could it really be that they were going to give us an epic love story with Supergirl and a family member of her family's historically known enemy? Could they dare to make the famous superhero anything other than straight?

It wasn't just a delusion on our part at that time. It was a real possibility based on real facts. Kara had suddenly dropped the guy she spent the entire previous season chasing after. She got him and dumped him for no good reason (the writers didn't bother to give it a good excuse) and in the same episode she meets this woman, at the start of the season we were going to discover a main gay character.

These are all facts.

A few episodes later Maggie Sawyer makes her debut and it's clear that she's Alex's love interest from the first moment. Cool. It's not Kara but at least it's Alex (because, at the time, we know, WE KNOW, that they don't have two lesbian/queer women characters in the same show unless they're dating each other. How could we think that gay people will surround themselves with other gay people? silly us), that was the reaction: We still LOVED that it was Alex, because it still made sense. And it was difficult to find Sanvers fanfic without it having Supercorp in it because we were all the same people, of course most of us liked both ships.

Now, I obviously don't know her, but I seriously don't think that Chyler can say she felt overlooked by the fans that season. Alex's coming out scenes were some of the best we had seen in our entire lives up until that point, and we made that known. Not all of us might have been on board with Sanvers (some storyline choices could've been questionable) but with Alex? No one loved her more than the queer Supergirl fans. And in the meantime Supercorp kept getting screen time, their friendship progressing in a Clois kind of way that was beautiful to witness. While Maggie and Alex's relationship advanced pretty quickly from an "I'm not gay" to a rejection to a proper first kiss, Supercorp was building a bit more organically as Supergirl kept saving Lena's life, as Lena opened up only to Kara, trusting her all the while Kara was keeping this huge secret from her. We ate that shit up, of course we did.

After season two was over we got the news that Floriana Lima (Maggie) was going to leave the show. I remember Chyler saying that she wanted to do right by us and whoever came next was gonna stay. And I'm not faulting Chyler for what came next, at all. Chyler was and always will be one of the best things on Supergirl and she has always treated the fandom with the utmost respect and love. And I hope she only received the same treatment back (and I hate to know she got those letters from people threatening to kill themselves, but let's have a little compassion for those people and their mental health, I hope they're doing well).

So Maggie left. And while some fans were not coping well with that, most fans understood it was the actress' decision. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the decision the writers made by making the breakup about not wanting babies when they were about to get married. How on Earth (any Earth) a couple don't talk about that particular issue BEFORE deciding to get married? It was an easy way out. But okay, it's just a TV show, I don't write it, we can move on from that... In the same season, at the same time this whole discussion and breakup occurs, the very same person who wanted to have kids has a meet-cute with a SINGLE MOTHER, Sam. The story was full of promise, she had a kid already with whom Alex got along amazingly, there was great chemistry between all three of them, Sam also had a dark secret being basically her sister's most powerful enemy, their relationship was mostly well built throughout the entire season. But guess what? She wasn't her new love interest, and left at the end of it.

A lot of Supercorp fans LOVED AgentReign (Sam/Alex), by the way. A lot of Supercorp fans also loved ReignCorp (Sam/Lena) and a few even loved AgentCorp (Lena/Alex) and SuperReign (lol what was the name of this ship? I don't remember but Kara/Sam). And guess what? There wasn't a war between us. We were mostly the same people multishipping because it's fun and because these were interesting characters with interesting relationships created by the writers. We were inventing and wishing for stuff, but the foundations were laid for us, some (most) things were there and most of us were just screaming that we liked what we were being given and wanted more of that.

And that's why come season 4, some people were having a hard time accepting Dansen. Because we were mourning the loss of Sam and her relationship with Alex, the what ifs are always the worst, no matter the situation. But most Supercorp fans embraced Kelly (and Azie, we love Azie and what we got to see of her relationship with Chyler, and Katie and Nicole), the vast majority of us ended up loving Dansen despite the writers not always doing a great job at writing their arcs. And it's awful that some fans treated her and other members of the cast horribly, but that was by far a small portion of the Supergirl fandom in general, and especially the Supercorp fandom. And, by the way, as a side note because racism was part of the problem for a minority of the fandom, A LOT of us in the Supercorp side of it are not white people from the US, A LOT of us are from other countries/races/cultures (that can be racist too of course, but the point is we don't know the races and motives of everyone behind a keyboard).

And that season most of us also embraced Nia because she was the first trans superhero, because of her queerness, because she was an awesome fun character, because she was relatable and geeky like most of us. We embraced her, her relationship with Kara and her relationship with Brainy. And we showed that by trending Nia related things, by adding Nia to our fanfics and fanarts. Nia was a Supercorp ally for most of us and we didn't exclude her from the art because we loved her as much as we love some of the other characters in the show.

Now, if Kara would have had, after the first season, one male love interest that was decent enough, we would have still love and wanted Supercorp, that's true (especially when it had been years of build-up) but most of us probably would have liked the pairing anyway, because we loved Kara Danvers and wanted her to be happy and to have the love she wanted at the beginning of the show (which she didn't get, by the way).

But the writers decided to give her, instead, another man who didn't treat her well. And I couldn't honestly tell you half of William's storyline because I couldn't care less. The creators of the show didn't make me care. Hell, I didn't even see Kara cared enough about that character. The writers should know their audience and should know that the audience needs moments to make them care about the characters, the writers have the power to make that happen. Many times I've seen a fandom hate a character one episode and love them by the next one, because sometimes all it takes is one good scene, or one good arc. William never had that. And now we have confirmation of what we knew all along, that maybe they were writing half-assed storylines for their love interests because they were too busy trying to figure out new ways to queerbait us. If they would have put a quarter of that effort into creating good love interests for Kara and/or Lena (but especially Kara), most of this conversation wouldn't still be happening 3 years later.

We embraced Andrea Rojas, we embraced her so much that we shipped her with Lena. Most of us weren't the blind Supercorp-or-nothing crazy fans a lot of people to this day make us out to be. When things were good, we mostly liked them. But please, please, let's be honest here, a lot of the time Supergirl was not a great-written show. And I get that those are Nicole's friends but a little objectivity, especially after all these years, would have come a long way.

These past few days I've read a couple of people saying Supercorp was the only good thing about the show. Those kinds of people were and still are a very very minority. A lot of us started the show before Supercorp existed and LOVED (still love) the Danvers sisters with all of our hearts. And the writers, at times, didn't know how to keep up with that relationship, the one that at first was the very center of the show, all that well either.

Most Supercorp fans didn't actually like that the 100th episode revolved all around Supercorp. 1) Because it was queerbaiting at its finest. 2) because it should've been about the Danvers sisters. Or at least about all Supergirl's most important relationships in equal measure. Yes, Lena was a big part of her, but ALEX EVEN MORE SO. The fandom didn't make that happen, we didn't fire any actor either. These were decisions made by the people who had the power to make anything in the show happen. If we would have had our way we all know what we would have done, and no, it definitely was not p**n (the most used AO3 tags for our ship speak for themselves).

I didn't see Nicole's last paragraph on the subject shared much. A lot of people didn't see that she acknowledged a small portion of the good the Supercorp fandom did.

But by the time you get to it, you already have a bad taste in your mouth. Because it still reads as if she's talking about us all without a care that "the toxic fans" were just a loud minority. Not to say that the good guys weren't louder, because Supercorp is still what it is to this day because we're still loud. So why is there very little mention of that? The way we supported Nia's episode? The way we supported Kelly's?

And because we were having fun and we were loud about our love for two fictional characters, WE WERE ALSO RECEIVING THREATS from some toxic fans, hell, the day before yesterday some fans were receiving death threats like it's 2017. Everything she says the cast and crew were dealing with, the Supercorp fans were dealing with it as well, and more so because the toxic people felt validated by the choices the creators made. Validated by some writers on Twitter making it worse. Validated by some of the actors who were also mocking us. We were all called delusional, and that was the most chill thing you could be called.

I understand her point of view, and I imagine that was not a great first experience in that kind of set, and I would love to have the opportunity to talk to actors about this topic that fascinates me (relationship between fandoms and cast/crew). But context is important, to see other people's point of views is important when having these conversations. She felt her own community wasn't supporting her when most of us were and that didn't come across at all. Not even with her final words.

The fact is, they were hurt by a small part of their own fandom (which, by the way, they have no idea how old those toxic fans were. Not to say that adults are not toxic. But we, as the non-toxic adults, should also think of the demographic and react accordingly). And most of us, the queer Supercorp shippers, were also hurt by the toxic part of the fandom and by some of the people she's trying to defend. Let's be clear, there's not "mayyyybe," they were 100% wrong in queerbaiting the hell out of us from day one and mocking us for believing the bait. Make no mistake, most of this is a consequence of THAT.

#supercorp #supergirl #nicole maines #text post #fandom things

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marooningmirrorball · 1 month ago

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Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?”, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #obx #rafe outerbanks #rafe cameron fanfic

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coline7373 · 7 days ago

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How to comment 101

A fandom is the subculture inherent to a group of fans. It touches anything related to the field of predilection of such a group of people and is organized or created by these same people. And, like everything that comes from people, it is alive and requires exchanges to continue to exists.

People who receive no comments have often and at length express how lonely it can feel to be shouting alone in the void and how discouraging such silence can be.

I have found after asking around that readers aren’t unwilling to comment, but mainly don’t have the energy or know what to say.

Some readers have also expressed a fear of annoying the author, as they are clumsy with words, or feeling intimidated in front of an author who has such a talent with words that the reader's own words feel too embarrassing. Or not feeling that their own five word sentence is worth the bother.

Every word matters.

Every comment is worth its writing to the author.

I refer you to this post if you doubt the importance and impact of comments on fanfics.

To help those willing to comment, I have done a very modest survey of roughly 20 persons, writers and readers alike, and here is what I have come up with.

For writers:

Write in your notes, at the end of the fic, clearly what type of comment you do not want.

Clearly stating your limits and preferences helps readers who are uncertain or not very verbose to write in a relaxed way.

If they do not have the anxiety of offending, vexing or annoying the author, they will be more comfortable and therefore more inclined to write.

If you have repeated commenters, try to reply to their comments, even with just a few words. Some people who do not receive replies to any of their comments take the lack of response to mean the author is not reading comments at all, feel discouraged and stop commenting in turn.

If you do read the comments, but don’t want to reply for whatever reason, do say so at the end of the fic, in the notes, so that readers know what to expect and not be disappointed.

For readers:

Do:

About the story:

You can write about a particular line that you liked, the themes, parallels with canon or within the story, the characterisation, a character’s exploration, a/several character’s motivation, a/several character’s mindset/thinking/emotional reaction, a/several characters’ interaction, the plot, the action happening, the worldbuilding, emotions within the fic, subtext, pacing...

If you liked everything and are overwhelmed on how to narrow it down, you can just say exactly that. “I loved everything!”

You can also focus on pointing out just one moment, one line, one specific thing and why you liked them, specifically. What matters is not that you wrote a novel but that you communicated to the author what made you happy, what you enjoyed.

About you:

What emotions the fic made you feel, what you think is going on in a wip or what you (think you have) figure(d) out, what you are doing in real life while reading the story, afterward, because of it, and/or how the fic impacted your life (yay! motivation to make art!), how the fic is meaningful on a personal level because x, y, z, what it made you think of, like another fic, a book, a song, a movie, what subject/fact it prompted you to discover more of…

How:

You can write an essay, a prose, or some serious, meaningful, impactful words but you can also joke with the author as long as you stay mindful or polite. A lot of authors have said they love when people make jokes or break the fourth wall.

Unsure about your sense of humor? Here is an example: do not write "I hate you! How could you do this to me!” Write "How could you do this? The betrayal! die offscreen.”

Making a parody of what is going on with the characters with a few lines can be funny! Keep it positive. Not everyone has the same degree of sarcasm. But levity and good humor are always welcomed.

Small fics vs longer fics:

Emojis, keysmashing and incoherent yelling are very often correct comments for small fics or drabbles. (Unless otherwise specified.)

They are also loved in longer fics, (unless otherwise specified,) but people who have been writing a story for literal years appreciate you taking at least five minutes to say a bit more than that.

Try to go through all the “about the fic” and “about you” points above, methodically, and choose just two or three of them. Then write just one sentence per point.

If you really don't know what to say, look at other people's comments. Sometimes, you will recognise something you liked too or that you thought was really good. It can help and be the starting point of your own comment.

Long WIPs:

For long fics that you follow while they are being written, people have said they have at first a lot of enthusiasm for commenting, but find it harder and harder to know what to say as the number of chapters accumulate, and so does the number of comments they feel obligated to give in turn.

Please, keep commenting! Love keeps the writers motivated and helps creativity. It’s like shouting in the void and getting a high five back.

Even one line about something specific (a dialogue bit, a reaction, a plot maneuver) can make an author happy.

Writers are not really looking for length or details. They are looking for care. If you read something you liked, just point out what you enjoyed. That's engagement enough.

Comments aren't really about the act of a compliment. They are about the shared joy of a fandom or a ship or a character.

Example: “'X character diving headfirst into the sea like that is so like him!”

It’s good. It’s fun. It’s nice.

Some people have said to “save” a chapter, give a kudo and say “looking forward to reading this when I have time!” and wait until they do have time and energy to comment more at length, sometimes two or three chapters at the same time.

It let the writers know their fic is still being read. You just have to be mindful to not let months go by, otherwise, it goes back to leaving the author the impression they invested hours, weeks, months, into something no one interacts with. You can alternate strategies, lengthy comments, short comments, and commenting on several chapters saved.

If all else fails, go back to the tried and true. Choose one of the points above, choose just two or three of them and then write just one sentence per point.

If you are not a native speaker:

Google can help with the bare minimum. It's not great, but it lays the foundations. Write what you think in google translate and the translation will help guide your answer. You can always ask for help from someone else or warn the author that the fic’s language is not your native language, if you are unsure if your words come off in a tone not intended.

At the start of your comment, say “I am not a native speaker”.

Do not apologize. It’s not necessary. Just provide context. Use your words. Be clear.

Remember:

The writer isn't what they write. They do not necessarily headcanon what they write, nor do they necessarily approve of it in real life. Be mindful to not approve or disprove of x, y, z going on in the fic as if they do. You do not know that.

It’s not about the length or the wording or the quality of your comments. Of course authors love that. But what they love most of all is to hold hands, jump up and down with you and squee and gush about the fandom, ship or character.

It’s about the sharing of the joy.

Don’t:

Do not ask for another chapter and for the author to finish a fic.

Do not threaten the author to put their fics in an AI if they do not finish the fic.

Do not say "I didn't like it" or "I liked but not that" or "It would have been better if x, y, z." If you want to talk about what you didn’t like, whether it’s part or all of the story, discuss it with willing friends. The author is not responsible for you reading something you didn’t enjoy (how it made you feel) and persevering.

Do not “offer” to correct typos, grammar, vocabulary, facts, canon facts, characterisation, ect. unless you know the author and know they are fine with it or they say so explicitly in the notes.

Do not make demands. Do not.

Like that tumblr op said, “this is not the bespoke zone.” This is off-the rack. If the free suit is not to your liking, look for another free suit rather than demand to speak to the manager for "adjustments."

Tags are not owed to you. Ao3 is not a safe zone. Not everyone agrees on what degree of content merits each tag. Or what qualifies for a tag. So, if you found a fic that was more angsty than you expected and it broke your heart, comment on a part that was good and didn't make you sad, without saying you want a happy ending to the angst fic that was written for angst purpose. Off-the rack, remember?

Exemple:

"I found x,y,z to be upsetting. Would you consider tagging it?"

Vs "Your work is totally x,y,z triggery. You ought to tag it."

Vs "Hey, you do know some people find x,y,z, triggery, right?!? Because they do! So tag it!"

One of those answers is correct. The others aren't. No demands in the comments.

Your emotional well being while reading fic is your responsibility. If your expectations have been disappointed, do not say so. Talk about a point that was positive for you. If your expectations have been exceeded, do share!

Also, if you're mad, I have found that it helps to write your comment, leave it to decant, and wait a week or so to see what it looks like when you're in a different emotional mindset.

Some elements of fics can be very upsetting unexpectedly. It is not the responsibility of the writer to answer that. Nor comments are the place for it.

Once some time has passed, if you still want to talk about it, try to communicate in a way that is neither demanding nor negative. If you can't, talk about it with someone who is not the author.

My own personal opinion:

It can be so easy to focus on the fic and your own inner imaginary garden/cinema, that we sometimes forget to switch from "inner life" to "outer life" and exchange actively with people on both sides of the fence.

But it can also add so much more to the experience <3

Clear communication is always good. Even if you disagree. At least you know where you stand.

Say thank you. Fanfics are a gift. You have been given one. Say thank you.

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shut-up-danny-kun · 8 months ago

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I've read hundreds of Star Trek TOS fics by now and it never ceases to amuse me how many different ways there are to fuck up Spock's characterization...now hold on just a minute - this post has a more interesting point than “fanfic writers stupid”, I promise you.

Every time, it's a spin on the massacre wheel. It's kind of amazing. Will he be overly emotional to the point where he's not himself anymore? Will he be so cold it's unpleasant and kind of hard to understand how he's lived to this point? Will he be extremely horny for no good reason? Will he speak in a way that sounds complety wrong?

I chuckle and shake my head. Of course, I KNOW what Spock is like, and MY interpretation of him is the most perfect and correct one. Obviously. He's just a very nuanced character, formed by many people in an unconventional way, with traits that seem to contradict each other at first but ultimately form a rich and unique character that so many people fell in love with specifically because he's so complicated...

Or...is he?

Let's entertain the idea that there isn't one correct interpretation of Spock, that all of these messy bits of characterization are not part of a bigger picture, but...just what they are: a product of many people with starkly different visions, working on a show that refuses to properly develop its characters. What then? Well, then Spock is a Rorschach test. Each viewer connects the random dots in their own way, and ignores the ones they don't like.

Let's use an example: me! In my interpretation of Spock (the most correct one, of course) he is, first of all, gay and on the asexual spectrum, reserved, largely uninterested in casual flirting or sex. When he is interested in the aforementioned things, he tends to be quite ashamed of it.

Makes sense, right? I can show you plenty of evidence for why that could be true. However, in the beginning of the first bloody season, Uhura sings a song about how Spock is actually kind of a heartthrob who likes to drive women insane with how hot he is, and Spock smiles. He smiles at her, as if agreeing and being very amused by all this! This interaction goes against pretty much everything I think about Spock. So what do I do? I explain it away in the most bizzare fucking way possible. See, Uhura and Spock are friends (there is no evidence for this), and Uhura knows everything I've just told you about him (through telepathy I guess? Not like he'd ever tell her!) and she's just trolling him (why would she do that? That is NOTHING like Uhura!). I need to do some Olympics-level mental gymnastics here, the opposite of Occam's razor.

“But Danny,” I hear you say, “it's just the start of the show! They hadn't figured out his character yet!”

To which I say: you can say that about anything! You can blame it all on a bad writer for that episode, and ignore virtually any scene that doesn't jive with your headcanons. It's there, and I can't ignore it.

So...how am I different from the people that want Spock to be thar heartthrob Uhura is singing about? That evidence is as much a part of canon as my favorite lines. Well, I'm not any different, that's the thing. And all those writers I complained about also have a point.

It's kind of a nihilistic take, I know, but maybe the reason Spock is such a cultural icon is because he is...whatever you want him to be: just concrete enough to spur on your imagination, yet vague and contradictory enough to let your brain fill in the gaps.

Don't get me wrong: I absolutely do not believe in this. In my mind, it just so happens that I'm one of the, like, 5 people ever who truly understood Spock (and one of them is Jim Kirk himself). But I still think it's something worth thinking about next time you're mad at a fic.

#star trek tos #spirk #s'chn t'gai spock #spock #tos spock #character analysis #dannytypes #takes

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weirdmageddon · 6 months ago

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why i think aradia and john work so well

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

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

(fantastic art by skeletood)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

> listen to me talk about my special interest boy

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

> okaaaaaayyyyy i read all that

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert) - john

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

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert) - aradia

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

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

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

> let’s break it down

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

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

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert)

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

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

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

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

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert)

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

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

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

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

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

(full res)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

imagine john seeing that

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

the dream bubble transforms

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

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

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

physically reflect the thoughts of the player…… rubs hands

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 7 months ago

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Spider-Woman, NOT Ghost-Spider

This is a tip for people who want to go as canon as possible WITH THE MOVIES, since I feel a lot of people do this mistake because they look into the comics and mix things up.

If you want to call Gwen, Ghost-Spider in your fanfic/fanart/etc because you think is cool, go ahead! Go nuts! I'm not the canon police.

BUT-

In the movies, Gwen still calls herself Spider-Woman.

An explanation as to why this is important in the read more.

(Spoilers about the Spider-Gwen comics, I guess because I am not spoiling anything that came after 2019.)

When I say "important," I mean it in the stick-it-to-the-details type of deal; if you care about technicalities you care about this, but I know that's not the majority.

However, I do want to bring it up because the reason why Gwen switched in the comics, or rather, why chose Ghost-Spider of all things- is really neat and interesting story line that I feel a lot of people skip over when they 'chose' to call her that without knowing why she chose that name.

If you think Gwen has it rough in the movies, don't read the comics because they put this girl through the wringer.

Let's go a little bit before she chose that name.

As you can see, Gwen feels that she has always been marked by death, some way or another.

First her mother, then Peter, and is now hitting pretty hard after losing Spider-UK (is not Hobie, or Malala, I don't think he has appeared in the movies,) Noir and Karn, though arguably Billy was the one who hit her the hardest.

She went to other dimensions to tell their love ones that Billy and Noir passed away; it is implied how this is her way to try to make amends to what happened, make peace with herself.

But is not really enough, the topic doesn't leave her mind,

Death and pain certainly follow her often; she almost lost her dad for good, and she was definitely shaken after Harry got gravely injured precisely because he was always there for her.

That last panel never stops hitting hard for me.

There is just some quietness to it, about how no matter what she does, how hard she tried, Death continues to follow, one way or another. Even when she tries to be a hero, to do the right thing, death follows her.

In the comics, Gwen switches her name because she is studying in Earth-616 rather than her own dimension, so she switches names in order to avoid stepping in any toes.

So, in the movies, is kind of hard to think the switch would happen. Sure, Gwen is interacting with Jessica and other spiders, but believe me, the multiple spider-man haven't changed their names, so having Jessica in the spider society doesn't change much.

However, I do bring all of this because I think implementing this story line in the movies not only is feasible, it would be *amazing.*

The phrase "Death loves Gwen Stacy," not only hits hard for the Spider-Gwen in the comics, but for the movie counterpart too.

Think about it for a second; in the movies, Gwen feels she can't have friends because otherwise, they may lose them like Peter, she has convinced herself it can't work. And then. she goes to the Spider-Society.

And now she feels Gwen Stacy and Death always go hand in hand.

She learns how in so many universes, Peter is the one bitten, he is the one who lives, while Gwen Stacy dies, over, and over again. It almost seems like she is the outlier out of spite, how because she gets to live, everyone else pays the price.

Because Death loves Gwen Stacy, powers or not, that's not changing.

But at the end of the day-

And that's why, no matter what, she will continue fighting to protect her people.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider-gwen #ghost-spider #spider-gwen comics #itsv #into the spider-verse #random spiderverse fact #I really hope people explore more this idea in the comics #is so good

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samicarabarbaru2137 · 7 months ago

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SHELTER AU MASTERPOST

This is a masterpost (duh) for my au! It still needs some work so this post will have updates in future!

Hello! Here is the silly au I made! Here is quick what is it about!

Caine is an ower of a shelter and a vet! He takes all those poor little buddies to care for them, only problem is the cats don't see him this way...why? You will have to wait and see~

Borders/Q&A

ZOO/PEDO/MAP/PROSHIPPERS, DON'T INTERACT

No nsfw asks

Please don't ship Caine with any canon character (I think you know why)

Please don't ship anyone with Bubble or Gloinks (I think you know why)

Other than that this AU will have Buttonblossom and Abstragedy

Can you draw fanart? Sure! If you would like to, make sure to tag me i want to see it! :0

Can you make other stuff such as fanfics? OFC!

If I make comics can you dub them? Yes! As long as you give credit

Can you ask canon characters? Yeah, this is what blog is about! You can ask anyone

Can you use my designs? I would love that!

Can you make ocs in this au? PLEASE THAT WOULD BE SO COOL!!!

How did I make the font for poster? Thanks to sm-baby (very cool artist check them out if you haven't) I found this site! https://www.textstudio.com/logo/the-amazing-digital-circus-font-1414

All characters asks are open right now!

Character designs (description cards coming soon)

EP 2 CHARACTERS COMING SOON

ALL THE LORE FOR NOW IS HERE!

If someone wants to know more!

That's all for now, thank you for reading and thank you for staying <3

and feel free to ask anything

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jhilsara · 28 days ago

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Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 4

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Welcome to the holiday special! Set during season 8 you spend Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas with Spencer.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, holiday family fighting, (no Maeve...this is my fanfic and I say Spencer's had enough trauma)

Previous|Next

Halloween

Spencer had convinced you to go out with him, JJ, and Will. They were going to take Henry trick or treating and then go off to a bar their team frequently ventured into.

Spencer and his team had recently landed from a case and Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently, Henry had not wanted to go out on Halloween, but something changed his mind. Spencer refused to tell you what Henry’s costume was, declaring it a surprise.

Spencer had picked you up and you two were in your own costumes. You dressed as Katniss Everdeen from the new Hunger Games movie. You had dragged Spencer to go see it after you had him read it during one of their earlier book exchanges. Spencer was dressed as Doctor Frankenstein. Large white lab coat and ridiculous googles.

“Are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don’t know them that well.” You asked nervously.

Spencer just laughed and nodded. “I’m more than sure. JJ and Garcia have been hounding me to make time for you to hang out with them.”

“Because they like me or because they want to profile me?” You asked skeptically.

Spencer shrugged, “Honestly, could be either, both, or none of the above. But, JJ knows you helped Will from bleeding out so, you’re solid in her book.”

“I thought we agreed to not ever talk about the bank again?” You mumbled.

“I know I know; I won’t bring it up again.” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, knowing well it wouldn’t be the last time.

Once they arrive at JJ and Will’s house Henry answers the door and immediately you melt at the sight. Little Henry was dressed as Spencer, badge and all, and you had to bite your tongue from almost crying.

JJ popped up behind Henry and smiled at the two. “Nice costumes.” she said looking them over.

“Uncle Spencer, do I look like you?” Henry asked excitedly spinning in a circle.

Spencer leans down to pick up Henry, “You look just like me! I think I’m looking in a mirror Henry.”

The blonde boy giggled and hugged his uncle.

“Come on in, we’re almost ready to go. Will’s just finishing the dishes.” JJ said, ushering them in.

Will come’s around the corner with a rag in his hand as he looks for the source of noise, “I thought I heard y'all.” He said smiling.

Will comes up to you arms open for a hug, “Hey.”

you immediately hugged him, “Hey Will.”

You smiled when he pulled away. Will raised his hand to Spencer, who was still holding Henry.

“Can you watch him so we can go change real quick?” Will asked.

Spencer nodded, “Absolutely, go don’t worry about it.”

“Promise we’ll be quick; our costumes are easy.” JJ said with a grin.

The two hurry off to their bedroom and Spencer sets down Henry.

“Are you excited to go trick or treating bud?” Spencer asked softly.

Henry nodded in excitement. “Mommy and Daddy are going to be my back up.”

You just smiled as you watched Spencer interact with Henry. He easily kept him entertained and was overall, just great with the kid. you almost think you should have Spencer do some magic at the shop for the kids during the day sometime. He just easily knows what to do. It’s charming.

JJ and Will come around the corner and are in all black suits and sunglasses. You gave a loud guffaw of a laugh, having to cover your mouth.

“Oh, now this is just a stereotype.” Spencer said, trying to look upset, but his smile gave him away.

“What? We can’t poke fun at ourselves?” JJ said with a small spin in her fake FBI suit. A massive plastic badge hanging from her hip.

Spencer just shook his head.

“I feel spiffy, this isn’t a bad suit for a costume.” Will said looking over his sunglasses.

JJ laughed and then clapped her hands together looking at her son, “You ready Henry?”

Henry bounced in excitement and ran up to his parents.

“Wait, wait, before we go let me get pictures of you guys. It’s so cute.” You said, fishing out your phone.

Will, JJ, and Henry pose. Will and JJ make a Mr. And Mrs. Smith pose back-to-back that has you giggling.

“Perfect.” she smiled as she finished snapping a few pictures.

JJ moves to open the front door and ushered everyone out, “Come one we’re burning the night away!”

Henry had about an hour and a half of trick or treating in him before he started dragging his feet.

“You tired big guy?” Will asked his son as he picked him up.

Henry nodded slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“It’s bedtime for this one.” JJ said kissing the crown of Henry’s head.

Will adjusts Henry in his arms. “We’ll go put him to bed, we’ll meet everyone at the bar.”

Spencer and you nod, waving them off.

“He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” You coo watching them walk off.

Spencer nodded, “He absolutely is.”

“You’re so good with him.” you crossed your arms. “Maybe you should lead a reading time or do a magic show at the bookstore.”

Spencer looks down at you, “Now you’re just extorting me for labor.”

You giggled, “I give you plenty of free coffee to warrant asking you for story time with the kids in the bookstore.”

Spencer makes a face. “Definitely extorting me.”

“I’d say it’s more a barter and trade system.” you said with a grin.

“Whatever, come on.” He laughed, grabbing your hand to lead you off to go to the bar.

You feel your face heat up from Spencer holding your hand, you go quiet and just let him lead you.

Once at the bar, Derek and Penelope are already seated in a back booth. Penelope spots the two first and she stands waving them over.

Penelope immediately grabs you from Spencer. “We need shots!” she declared as she dragged you with her to the bar.

Derek just laughed watching them leave.

“How many drinks has she had?” Spencer asked with a laugh.

“None. She was waiting.” Derek responded with a chuckle.

Penelope and you stand at the bar waiting to order shots. While they wait for the bar tender Penelope takes this time to chat you up.

“I can’t believe Spencer hasn’t brought you out until now! I mean- there was the wedding, but I’ve been begging him to let me hang out with you!” Penelope pouts.

You laughed, “Well, my schedules a little crazy. I’m always working at night so I can’t really go out like this all the time.” you told her.

Penelope nodded, “Right, you run a late-night cafe and bookstore, right?”

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I do. It’s a lot of fun and the inside is super comfortable. If you ever want to drop by, feel free to! I’d love for you to come by.” You told the blonde.

Penelope’s face bursts into a big grin. “That sounds great. I’ll make sure to take you up on that.”

Finally, the bartender makes his way over to them.

Over at the booth, JJ and Will finally made it in. The group is chattering amongst themselves, waiting for Penelope to come back with you.

JJ looked over to spot them at the bar, and she took an opportunity.

“So, Spence...” she started with a conspiratorial tone.

Spencer immediately froze and gives JJ a knowing look. “Why do I already not like where this is going?”

“It’s nothing serious just...” her eyes avert over to the bar, “Do you like her?” she whispered loudly across the table.

Derek started to laugh, looking at JJ with a raised brow. “Are we really about to press pretty boy on his love life right now?”

Spencer’s face is tinted pink as his eyes widen. “JJ...” he sighed.

“Spence.” She replied with a deadpan stare.

His eyes flickered over to try to see if Penelope and you were coming back. Hoping he could escape this grilling.

“I’m not gonna let this go, so you can answer here or at work with Rossi and Hotch in the room.” She said with a smirk.

Spencer sighed and looked down at his hands on the table. “She’s wonderful, and when she was a hostage, it really hit me in that moment that she’s important to me.” he murmured.

“She’s too sweet though...and I’m, me.” He said quietly.

Derek and JJ make a face. They didn’t believe that for a second. Before they could reply though, Penelope bounced back with you in tow.

“This conversation isn’t over Spence.” JJ murmured.

“Oh, everyone’s here!” Penelope shouts, moving to hug JJ in excitement.

Penelope shoots a playful glare at Spencer, “You better move boy genius because my spot is next to big man.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but slid over to get up. Penelope shot him a dazzling smile and moves to saddle herself next to Derek. Spencer gets back in the booth, and you slide next to him. With everyone in the booth, they’re basically brushing against each other. Your leg is pressed against his and you feel like you’re burning up. It could be the alcohol or your nerves, you’re unsure.

The night goes on and you drink far more than you probably should have. You're a light weight and Penelope Garcia just kept ordering shots for her, you, and JJ.

The three women are standing outside in the cold air chattering away while they wait for the others to close out their tabs.

You’re swaying on your feet humming a mindless tune and Penelope’s leaning against you.

“You’re so sweet- I understand why our boy wonder would keep you to himself.” Penelope giggled.

You shook your head, “No no, it’s not like that.” you giggled.

“Oh please,” JJ rolled her eyes her own smirk on her face. “You two were giving each other eyes all night.”

You gasped, “No we were not! He’s my best friend.”

JJ and Penelope give each other matching looks before humming in acknowledgement.

“I’m serious! I know what a sarcastic mmhmm means, I invented it.” You said with a frown.

The doors open and the three, much more sober, men come out.

“Come on baby girl, time to say goodbye. You need your bed.” Derek said pulling Penelope off you.

“Oh, my bed sounds fantastic!” she said excitedly, letting Derek lead her off.

“We better get going too, your momma can’t stay all night.” Will mentions to JJ.

“Bye Spence, bye Y/N!” JJ waved goodbye.

Spencer turned to look at you, and you’re still swaying a bit. Spencer wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and starts to lead you back toward the subway.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

You immediately leaned your head on his shoulder wrapping your own arm around him to keep yourself balanced.

“You’re my favorite person Spencer.” you murmured as they walked down the street.

He chuckled softly, “You’re mine too.”

“No, no, I’m serious.” you said your words a bit slurred.

“I know.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, your eyes furrowed, “No, you don’t.” you said it a bit more seriously. “You’ve done more for me than I can explain.” you whispered.

Spencer paused and gently moved his free hand to press you closer to him, petting your head. “I think it’s the other way around.” He murmured into your hair.

The two stand there, your face pressed into Spencer’s shoulder for a while. It takes a cold breeze to make the two of you separate.

“Let’s get you home before you catch a cold.” he whispered, gently moving you forward again.

You just nodded, looking at your feet as they walked, trying to hide your flushed face.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was always awkward. You only remember Thanksgiving being fun when you were between five and ten. After your mother cheated, Thanksgiving had been... rough. To put it politely.

Even after your parents' divorce, they would still try to get together for Thanksgiving, but something tends to always go wrong.

There was the year you refused to come out of your room because you didn’t want to see your mother. So, Bridget tried to feed you under the bedroom door. Then there was the year that Bridget got food poisoning because their mom didn’t cook the chicken breast for Bridget all the way through. That one was rough. She was eleven and violently puking for three days straight. Or the year that Lauren brought her new boyfriend over. He had tried to make Bridget and you call him dad while Big Joe was sitting right there.

Thanksgiving has just not been their Holiday.

This year you had invited Spencer. He wasn’t going to Vegas to see his mother until Christmas, and he was just going to spend it alone. You offered for him to just spend it with you and Big Joe, it was always just the two of them recently. So, it wasn’t a big deal. Just a chill lunch, watch the parade on the tv, and send Spencer off with leftovers.

At least, that was your plan.

You're in the kitchen with Spencer, cutting veggies for the stuffing when the doorbell rings. You stand straight looking at Spencer in surprise.

“I’ll get it!” You shout to your dad, walking briskly to the door.

Upon opening the door, you see your baby sister. It’s such a shock it takes you a second to register what’s happening.

“Birdie?” You blinked in confusion and rubbed your eyes trying to see if you were seeing things.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Bridget’s boyfriend, Jamie, says excitedly and leans in to give a hug.

“Oh!” Jamie wraps you in a massive hug, squeezing you tightly. “I’m so happy to finally meet you and Bridget’s dad!”

You looked at him a little puzzled before turning to Bridget. “I thought,” You sighed trying to even your breathing. “I thought you were spending the holidays with Lauren again?”

Bridget just shrugged, “Changed my mind. Now can we go in, it’s freezing out here.”

You step aside to let them in and are bewildered that your sister even showed up. You make your way through the living room and stand next to your dad in his wheelchair. His eyes were half closed, a light snore as the television played the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“Daddy, daddy wake up. Birdie’s home.” You whispered.

Big Joe jolts a bit and grumbles, “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Sure, you weren’t daddy.” You patted your dad’s shoulder. “Anyway, Birdie’s here with her boyfriend Jamie.” You said making Big Joe look over at the two standing awkwardly in the doorway.

His face breaks into a grin, “Well, come in Pidgeon, no need to be shy.” He struggles to sit up a little straighter in his chair.

You look over at your sister and Jamie. Her boyfriend is all smiles, you swore if he had a tail, it would be wagging. Jamie walks over to shake your dad’s hand and introduce himself.

Bridget on the other hand, has her feet planted firmly to the floor. Unmoving. You watched her closely and saw just how pale Bridget was as she looked at their dad. She hadn’t seen their dad in a long time. She mostly just called, if that, but this was the first time in maybe two years that Bridget was standing in the same room as her father.

You look back at Jamie and her dad as they chatter. You see how thin her dad’s gotten. It’s not news to you, nothing about his health was. They were already on borrowed time, your dad truly beating the odds. As you look over at your baby sister, you realize that the last time Bridget saw their dad he could still walk easily. He only barely needed the wheelchair for bad days.

Bridget was in shock.

“Y/N! I need some help back here!” Spencer comes around the corner from the kitchen, covered in flour. He’s holding his hands up like he’s innocent.

“Oh, good god, Spencer, bless your heart. I’m coming!” you told him shooing him off back to the kitchen.

You go to Bridget and nudge her, “Birdie you and Jamie can keep daddy entertained right? I’m still cooking.”

Bridget just nodded slowly making her way over to the couch.

You sighed and went back into the kitchen.

“Spencer, I said to add a little flour to make a rue... not a half cup.” you laughed looking at him.

Spencer cleaned his hands with a small rag and looked over at you with a displeased frown.

“I need exact measurements, not... your southern shorthand.” He murmured.

You rolled your eyes and looked at the pot that was supposed to be your rue for the macaroni and cheese. You see the powder in the pot and shake your head.

“Southern shorthand’s about to make the best food you’ve ever eaten.” you told him with a raised brow.

“Grab me a clean one please. This one can go in the sink.” you point over to under the counter.

Spencer easily does that and moves to cutting and peeling potatoes.

“Was that your sister?” he asked.

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Yup.” you said with a pop of the P.

“Isn’t it a good thing she’s here?” he asked tentatively.

You sighed, “I mean,” you leaned back on your heels biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes. It is good. I just...” you turned to face him.

“Spencer, you didn’t see her face. It was like she didn’t recognize him.” you hissed in a whisper.

Spencer paused on peeling the potatoes and gave you a deadpan look. “Because she didn’t. When was the last time she really saw him?”

You paused, “When daddy could still walk on his own... She's only seen him in the chair once.” you sighed heavily.

Spencer moved closer to you and held your arms in reassurance, “She’s in shock. Just, give her some time.” He offered.

You nodded and rolled your sleeves up, “I’m just gonna focus on cooking right now.”

By the time you and Spencer finish everything the parade is over, and your sister has set up the small dining table. You and Spencer slowly bring out the food and your dad rolls himself up to the head of the table.

“What do you want to eat dad?” You asked him after everything was placed on the table.

“Everything, it’s Thanksgiving! I could eat a horse.” he said with a hearty laugh.

You shook your head at your dad but filled his plate. After you set his plate in front of him, everyone else builds a plate for themselves.

“Magpie, you still make homemade cranberry sauce?” Bridget asked, eying the small plate.

You nodded, “Yeah, you never liked the canned stuff.” you replied like it was obvious you’d make it the way she liked.

“I haven’t had Thanksgiving with y’all in years...” Bridget said.

You just shrugged. “It’s not that hard; besides, I’ve gotten so used to making it.”

Bridget bit her tongue. You and her dad hate cranberry sauce. Bridget was the only one who ate it. You don’t have to tell her you made it every year with the hope she’d come.

“Well, it’s the first time I have both my girls here, so let me say grace just this once.” Big Joe said with a smile.

Everyone nodded and closed their eyes.

“Dear lord, thank you for this meal. Thank you for blessin’ me with daughters who care so much. Thank you for providin’ them with such kind folk who care for them like I do. Please bless us today with the kindness and health to go on another year, amen.”

Big Joe smiles at his daughters and motions for them to eat. “C’mon let’s not let this go to waste.”

Their family meal was awkward.

You and Bridget flank the sides of their dad and Spencer and Jamie sit across from each other. The men trying to keep polite conversation while you and Bridget just stare at each other.

“This meals good Magpie, better than mom ever makes.” Bridget complimented.

“Well mom barely ever really cooks. I’m sure she just catered.” You bite back.

Spencer moves his hand to grip yours under the table. You sighed, “Thanks though, I try.”

Bridget turned to her boyfriend giving him a look that said, ‘I told you so.’

Jamie coughs, “So, you run a bookstore?” he asked.

You nod, “Yeah, I co-own it with a friend of mine. Part bookstore part cafe.”

“It’s a great shop, my favorite in town.” Spencer added.

You snorted, “You just say that cause I give you free coffee.”

“Oh, is that where you two meet? That’s romantic, a warm cozy book nook.” Jamie asked leaning forward.

Your and Spencer’s faces both burn deep burgundy colors.

“No no-”

“It’s not like that-”

“We’re not dating-”

“He’s my best friend we’re not-”

You start talking over each other going back and forth. Finally, they both just shut up.

“We’re friends. He’s not my boyfriend.” You finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we just assumed-” Bridget slammed her elbow into her boyfriend's side.

“Sorry.”

It’s an awkward meal.

After everyone eats Spencer and Jamie clean the table, rinsing off the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. You and Bridget bring the leftovers into the kitchen, placing them on the counter.

“Can we talk?” Bridget asked with a nervous look.

You nod, unsure of what your sister wants to discuss. Bridget coughed looking at the two men, “Alone .”

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” Jamie and Spencer quickly make themselves scarce to leave the sisters alone.

Bridget moves to start packing up the leftover food. A nervous habit she picked up from their mother, she had to do something with her hands. You go to help her, trying to make whatever conversation this turns into less awkward.

“We need to talk about daddy.” Bridget whispered.

“We or you?” You asked with a raised brow.

Bridget sighed and looked at you, “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

“Really? Because as I remember it, I’ve been trying to have a serious conversation with you about this for a while. The last time we discussed this you told me ‘Fuck you.’” you replied with a fake smile.

Bridget sighed and stared holes into the food she was packing into the glass Tupperware.

“I was scared ! No one wants to think about their dad dying!” She tried to say with a strained voice, her movement becoming more aggressive.

You slam your hands on the counter, “And you don’t think I’m scared Bridget?! I’m fucking terrified everyday I’m gonna wake up and find that he didn’t!”

You're breathing heavily, trying to stop the burning you feel at the corners of your eyes, you know yelling isn’t helpful right now, but it feels right.

“You chose to take care of him, he’d be better off with a full-time team! You are such a miserable bitch sometimes!” Bridget yelled right back.

Bridget’s anger has always been fierce and loud. While yours has always been passive. You can’t stand her trying to lecture you right now.

“I’d rather be a miserable bitch than a fucking coward who can’t even look daddy in the eyes.” You bite back.

Bridget throws her hands up, “You know what? Have a great fucking Thanksgiving. I’m not doing this right now.”

You crossed her arms, “Run away, like always.” you murmured under your breath glaring at the floor.

Bridget took a deep breath before turning toward her older sister, “I am trying. It might not be when or how you wanted, but I am trying.”

You didn’t respond expect for a flinch when you heard the front door slam behind her sister.

You stood alone in the kitchen and leaned over the sink.

“Magpie...”

You sigh, your dad’s tone tells you something's weighing on his heart, and you know it’s about Bridget.

You take a deep breath and try not to break into a sob. “Daddy-” your voice shook.

“Don’t hate her, Bridget isn’t like you.” Big Joe tells you, his voice gentle.

You are very aware that the walls are thin, and your dad heard you argue with Bridget., hell, everyone heard your argument with Bridget. That doesn’t make it any less hurtful or true.

“I don’t hate her; I just hate how she ignored you for so long and just-” you paused looking up. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Big Joe rolled closer. He was using his soft dad voice, and it was the straw that broke your back.

Your lower lip started to shake, and you could feel the hot tears running down your face.

“All of it! None of it is fair, why... why did you have to be the one who’s sick?” you sobbed.

He grabbed your hands and held them tightly. “Magpie, the world’s not fair. No one made me sick, it just, it happens.”

“You’re my dad... I’m not ready to give you up.” you hiccupped through your tears.

Big Joe moves to stand on his shaky legs, he wraps you in a tight hug. You can feel how much smaller he’s gotten. The muscle deteriorating in his body.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Okay? I’ve been beating the odds, right? I can keep going.” He told you.

He pulled back to brush away your tears, “Don’t be mad at your sister... When I do go, you’ll have each other, you should take care.” he said.

“Bridget’s not cut me out of her life Magpie, she calls me every day when I’m in the doctor’s office.” He reassured you.

Your eyes widen, “She does?” You’re surprised.

Big Joe nods. “We don’t talk about the doctor’s visits or anything, but she calls every day, and we catch up. I know too much about Jamie by the way; he’s a chatty Cathy...”

“I didn’t know that.” you said with a frown.

Your dad shrugged, “I didn’t think it was important. It obviously was, you’ve been holding too much in Magpie.” he said softly.

You looked down a bit embarrassed. “You don’t have to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders... you’ve been doin’ that since you were thirteen. It’s not your job; your job is to live your life.”

You nodded, rubbing your face to dry the tears.

“Why don’t you go out with that nice friend of yours? I’ll be just fine right here.” He said referring to Spencer in the living room.

“Oh god, Spencer.” you sighed covering your face, “I look awful...”

Her dad chuckled, “He won’t mind. Now go on and get.” He grumbled.

You give a soft laugh, “You just want to watch the game in peace.” you said knowingly.

“Hell yeah, I do, you never liked football. I don’t know who raised you.” he joked, wheeling himself into the living room.

You follow behind him and into the living room. Spencer’s pacing circles in front of the couch. He only stops when he hears them come in.

“We’ve been kicked out.” you joked. You grab your coat and your purse, “Dad wants to watch the football game, and I have no interest in that.” you told him seeing Spencer’s confused face.

He nodded and grabbed his own coat, “Happy Thanksgiving Joe.”

Your dad nodded, “That’s Big Joe to you boy.” He teased Spencer.

You rolled your eyes and walked out with Spencer following behind. Outside the front door you felt Spencer gently grab your arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, “I’ve been better...” you murmured. “but I should probably apologize to Birdie for grilling her like that." You bite your cheek in thought.

Spencer shrugged, “You don’t have too immediately. It takes two to fight.”

You snort, “You’re the best, you know that?” you said moving to wrap your arm around him as they walked.

Spencer easily slides his own arm around your waist, “I’ve been told a time or two.” he responded smugly.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay okay, remind me to not boost your ego again.”

Spencer looked down at you and smiled softly. Your eyes were still rimmed red from crying, but you looked better than when you had come out of the kitchen. Spencer could hear the argument between the two sisters vividly. The walls of the apartment where thin and the animosity between the two women had been brewing all afternoon. They were bound to explode.

He rubs soothing circles into your back. He knows you’ll work it out. You're too bright to be dimmed so easily.

Christmas

Christmas morning was always fun. The past couple of years it’s been hard. It’s just been you and Big Joe, and honestly it just reminded you how lonely you were. Thanksgiving was always awkward, but Christmas has always been fun. Even when your mother was visiting, you still found some joy at Christmas. Now? You just longed for one where it wasn’t just the two of them.

There was going to be a Christmas that would just be you... you weren’t ready for that.

You missed baking cookies, trying to make gingerbread houses with Bridget, and curling in front of the fireplace wrapped in a million blankets watching those 70’s claymation holiday specials. You and Bridget’s giggles filling the living room as you slept in a fort made from couch cushions and sheets.

You missed being a family.

You sighed and turned the oven on, getting ready to make a small turkey for you and Big Joe. You had other food to still prep, and you were ready to just give up and order a pizza.

Halfway through boiling the eggs you heard a loud knock.

“Magpie were you expectin’ that friend of yours?” Her dad shouted.

You wipe your hands off and pokes your head into the living room, “No... I think he went to Vegas to visit his momma.” you said, walking toward the door.

“Surely to god it’s not a solicitor on Christmas?” you asked.

You open the door and see Bridget and Jamie. You stand there a little surprised. You hadn’t talked to her since Thanksgiving when they had a massive blow out argument.

“Y/N! Merry Christmas!” Jamie exclaimed holding what looked to be a pie in his hands. His smile was genuine as it reached his eyes.

“Merry Christmas Jamie...” you said in surprise.

Jamie walked past her but not before making a face at Bridget.

“Merry Christmas Big Joe!” Jamie’s voice carried off into the room.

Bridget’s holding a bag and looks embarrassed to be standing in front of you.

“I brought a peace offering...” Bridget said passing the bag over to you.

You raised your brow in question but opened the bag anyway.

Inside were two gingerbread house kits and a champagne bottle.

“I thought we could, maybe, try to bring back an old tradition...” She murmured looking at you hopefully.

“Birdie-” You started but she cuts you off.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out at Thanksgiving...I just... I’ve been trying so hard to think that daddy was gonna be just fine.” Bridget’s voice cracks.

“I- I can’t picture that the strongest person I know has to be rolled around in a chair, ya know?” she said, her voice watery as she tried to blink back her tears.

“Daddy’s sick Bridget. He’s already lasted longer than most, but...” you took a deep shaky breath of your own. “We only have a little time left with him.” you whispered.

“I know.” Bridget said firmly. “I’m gonna show up.” she promised.

You look down at the gingerbread houses and back at your baby sister. You pulled Birdie into a tight hug.

“Better late than never.” You whispered.

“I missed this.” Bridget said holding onto her sister.

“I missed you Birdie.”

The two sisters walk into the apartment together. You set the bag down under the tree.

“I’m cooking if you want to help?” You asked her.

“Ohhhhhh no. I don’t cook. I’m awful- you want Jamie.” Bridget said pointing to her boyfriend.

Jamie stands and mock salutes you, “Sous chef reporting for duty!”

You rolled your eyes and motions for him to follow you.

While Jamie’s in the kitchen, it makes the task so much faster for you. Faster than even when Spencer helped her. Jamie clearly knew how to cook and obviously made meals for your sister. The two busted out the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs easily. What would have taken you half of the morning and afternoon took you and Jamie just the morning to finish. It was great to have an extra pair of hands that knew what they were doing.

When you put the rolls in the oven to bake, you notice Jamie’s hand fidgeting in his pocket.

Now that you thought of it, his hand was constantly shooting down to check that he still had whatever it was in his pocket.

“If ya got a ring in there for Birdie, I’d suggest being less obvious.” you joked with a light laugh.

Jamie freezes and his face erupts into a bright red shade, “How... how did you know?” He stuttered out.

Your brows shoot up as you whip around to face Jamie. You look between him and the doorway and don’t hear anything to suggest Bridget heard them.

“I was joking!” you hissed out. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious! I love Bridget.” he whispered to you. “I wanted to propose with her family there, but it was either you guys or Lauren, and Bridget is fighting with her right now.”

“They’re fighting?” You asked in quiet surprise.

Jamie nodded, “Bridget called her after Thanksgiving and I don’t know much, but it was a screaming match over the phone.”

You make a face. “Sounds like mom.”

Jamie nodded in agreement.

“Well, let me see it!” you demanded, holding your hand out.

Jamie rolled his eyes but fished out the small box and handed it to you. You excitedly opened the box, and your eyes lit up. You passed the small velvet box back to Jamie.

“I think she’ll love it.” you said with a genuine smile. “So, are you proposing today?”

He nodded. Your face beams. “I’m so excited for you guys. Truly.”

“Just gotta find the right time.” He said holding the box tightly.

“There’s never a perfect time... just maybe do it before me and Birdie start building gingerbread houses.” You suggested.

“Why?” Jamie tilted his head in confusion.

“Because she brought champagne and we’re light weights.” you patted Jamie’s arm.

“Go on in the living room, I’ll finish up and get ready to serve soon.” You offered.

Jamie nodded and smiled, “You’re a good sister.”

You shrugged, “Not really, but appreciate the sentiment.” you teased.

Dinner goes wonderfully. Much better than Thanksgiving. You serve everyone their food and the conversations are lively and exciting.

“Your momma called me,” Big Joe said turning to Bridget.

Bridget freezes, like she used to as a kid who was caught, and she looks up at her dad.

“What about?” she asked.

Her dad gave her a pointed look, “You’re fightin’?”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “I got into it with her, it doesn’t matter.”

“She said you were fightin’ about me.” She sighed and looked at her dad.

“Well, what she neglected to tell you daddy, was she was trying to tell me how to take care of you. As if she knows anything more than Magpie does.” Bridget said stabbing her turkey aggressively.

Their dad nodded, “She did not tell me that part.”

“Sounds like Lauren...” You murmured shoving potatoes into your mouth.

Bridget gives you a pointed look, “Please, I don’t want to argue over mom right now.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “I won’t. My lips are sealed.”

After dinner they transferred to the living room and finally do a gift exchange. There weren’t a lot of presents, just a handful for each other. Plus, the gifts you made for your friends.

You already got your gift from Bridget, but you gave her a present. It was homemade cookies that were Bridget’s favorite as a kid. You got Josie to bake them for her.

“This is my apology for Thanksgiving...I shouldn’t have cornered you.” You said softly.

You smiled at your sister and Bridget went to wrap you in a hug.

Bridget and you both had a few presents from your dad, all of which were cute and sentimental.

Finally, Jamie gets ready to give Bridget his present. He hands Bridget her gift and it’s a beautiful print of the night sky and stars the day they met. While Bridget’s too busy looking at the print and getting teary eyes, Jamie drops to his knee.

He doesn’t even get the words out before Bridget immediately breaks into a sob.

Jamie gives a soft laugh, “Bridget Daniels, will you marry me?”

Bridget nods aggressively and throws herself at Jamie. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “I had a whole speech prepared but then you started crying.” He chuckled into her neck.

“You know I’m a crier!” she blubbered, fat tears rolling down her face.

Jamie just laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

You were filming the whole time on your phone the second Jamie gave Bridget her first gift.

“Congratulations!”

“Well, what a good excuse to pop open the champagne you brought!” You teased pulling the bottle from the gift bag.

Bridget gasped, “Oh yes! Grab it!”

A few hours later you are three glasses deep in champagne and are trying to delicately place gumdrops strategically on the roof of your gingerbread house.

Bridget’s also three glasses in and keeps giggling as she looks down at her hand.

“Biiiiiiiiiirdie!” You drawl out looking over at your sister and her half-built house.

“Stop gigglin’ about your mushy love life and build! I don’t want to win because you half assed it!” You pout, sending a playful glare at your sister.

Bridget stuck her tongue out at you, “Magpie don’t be ugly. I’m two sheets to the wind and you know it!” Bridget said her accent seeping out of every syllable.

You just laughed loudly, snorting, “We’re both two sheets to the wind!”

The two are rolling on the floor filled with giggles. Jamie is sitting on the couch next to Big Joe in his chair just smiling at his fiancé.

“I haven’t seen them this giddy since they were only up to my knee.” Big Joe said with a gruff chortle.

“I told her to just apologize... Bridget’s so stubborn. She won’t ever admit that she looks up to her sister, but she spends a lot of time talking about her. Especially after that bank robbery she was in...”

Big Joe nodded; a scowl crosses his face at the memory of the bank robbery. “That was the worst day of my life.”

Big Joe turned to look at Jamie, “Did you know that boy from Thanksgiving is an FBI agent? He saved her.”

Jamie’s eyes grow big as saucers. “What?”

Big Joe nodded, “He saved my baby girl. I’ll always remember that.”

Jamie grows quiet thinking it over, “...and they aren’t dating?”

“Nope.”

You and Bridget are back to working on the gingerbread houses, with deadly focus as they build. Your hands are shaking as you pipe icing for decoration on your house. Bridget is holding her breath as she places small colored candy pieces as fake lights.

“Are you decorating the yard?” You asked her. You're looking at the cardboard base with laser focus.

“I want to make a snow man, so yes.” Bridget replied.

You sighed. “Fine I guess I’ll do something...” you pause biting your cheek in thought.

You ruffled through the bag of candy and came across the Sour Patch Kids. You gasp in excitement and start putting the small child shaped gummies all over the base.

Bridget looked over and pouted, “Hey! Those were for us to eat not decorate!” she whined.

You rolled your eyes, “Birdie don’t get your panties in a twist- here I only grabbed three!” you said, handing over the bag to your sister.

Bridget frowned, “Liar you used like, ten.” She said flipping you off.

“I’ll eat them! It’s my share.” You exclaimed with a sigh.

Bridget shoved the candy in her mouth, “You better, these are expensive.” She mumbled with her mouth full.

Before you can respond there’s a knock on the door. You bolt up and go to answer. Still tipsy you wobbled a bit before standing straight. You open the door, and your eyes widen as you see Spencer on the doorstep.

Your face is flushed from the champagne, and you’ve thrown a garland around yourself like a scarf, you looked a little ridiculous. Not to mention the remains of broken candy and frosting on you.

“Merry Christmas.” He said, Spencer’s eyes slowly roam your form, and an amused smile formed on his face.

You tried to wipe off whatever remains of the gingerbread house were on you, “Merry Christmas Spencer. I didn’t know you were coming by?” you said flustered.

Spencer shrugged, “I couldn’t make it out to see my mom this year, I’m not staying long though.” He said turning to pull something from his satchel.

You stand in the doorway wringing your hands and tilt your head in curiosity.

“Here!” he exclaimed, finding what he was looking for, he handed over a small, wrapped gift to you.

You gently grabbed the present from him, “I have yours inside- I can go grab it real quick.” you offered.

Spencer shakes his head, “No it’s okay. Open yours first.”

You can see how eager he is, so you do as he requested. You gently peel the wrapping paper off and it’s a jewelry box. You opened it and gasped seeing inside.

“Oh wow... Spencer...” you whispered, the breath knocked out of you as you looked at the gift.

It could be the champagne, or it could be that you are quick to cry, but your eyes well up with tears brimming and ready to fall.

“You don’t like it-” He whispered as he moved to grab the box.

You pull back away from him. You cradled your gift close, “No, Spencer this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever got me.” your voice cracked as you looked up at him, your tears falling.

You tried to wipe them away, “Sorry-” you hiccupped, “I’m a little drunk.”

Spencer just smiled at you.

“God, now your present sucks in comparison.” you murmured looking at the beautiful necklace he gave you.

Spencer snorts, “It’s not a contest.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the necklace, turning your back to him.

“Will you help me put it on?” you asked quietly.

Spencer comes up behind you and his hands gently grab the silver chain. His hands are warm in comparison to the cold metal touching your skin. His touch is feather light as he focuses on clipping your necklace. His breath tickles the nape of your neck, and it sends a shiver through your body.

“Sorry, it’s been out in the cold.” Spencer said, thinking your full body shiver was from the metal.

You don’t reply, not trusting yourself. He fumbles for a moment, but the necklace is on. A beautiful magpie feather pendant rests against your collarbone.

You turned back to him and tilted your head. “How... where did you even get this?” you asked holding the pendant in your hand.

“It’s a long story, but I've been looking for a magpie present for a while.” You looked down at the ground with a shy smile.

“I mean, that’s what your family calls you right? Magpie.” He whispered.

You smiled, “It’s special...for me and Birdie.” she murmured quietly.

“I thought so.” He replied softly, “I finally saw that in a store a while ago and it just, it made sense to me.” He said softly.

You looked up at him and gave a tiny smile, “Thank you Spencer, this was really sweet.” you pushed up on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Wait right here, let me grab your gift.” you told him.

You don’t see how red Spencer’s face is.

You quickly rush inside and grab Spencer’s gift from under the tree. Bridget and Jamie are nowhere to be found but you can hear idle chatter in the kitchen.

“Magpie,” You turned to see your dad looking at you expectantly.

You tilted your head, “What is it daddy?”

“That boy, the one at my front door,” He started.

Spencer. Big Joe was talking about Spencer. You bite your lip. There’s too much alcohol in you right now to have whatever conversation this is. Not to mention Spencer’s probably freezing.

“Spencer?” You asked for clarification.

“Yes! Him... Magpie, are you in love with him?” He asked.

You almost choke. You start coughing and look at your dad with wide eyes.

“Where did that come from?!” you exclaimed.

“Now, I ain’t stupid. I might be sick, but I got perfectly working eyes.” he said with a frown.

You sputter for a second, “What makes you think that? He’s my best friend.” you cross your arms defensively.

“Y/N.” Big Joe said sternly, giving his daughter a firm look. “I’ve seen how you look at that boy.”

“Daddy,” you sighed. “I don’t have time to date- I have the store and you-”

“Don’t use me as an excuse to not live your life, Magpie.�� he said softly. Her dad reached out to hold your hand.

You took a shaky breath, “Daddy- I can’t, I have to go give him this present. I can’t do this right now.”

“I’ve seen how he looks at you, friends don’t look at each other like you two do.”

You go silent and bite your lip. You look down at the gift in your hands, “I think I do... but I don’t know if I’m ready.” you whispered.

Big Joe motions for you to bend down, opening his arms for a hug. You set Spencer’s gift over to the side and wrap your arms around your dad.

“If you’re gonna fall in love with anyone, I’m glad it’s him.” He whispered as he hugged you tight.

You pulled back and gave a sniffle, trying not to cry anymore.

“I have to go, he’s probably freezing.” you told your dad, grabbing Spencer’s gift before walking back outside.

You quickly rushed back to the door, Spencer still standing there, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, dad stopped me.” you said, handing him a box.

Spencer nodded and gently opened the box. He pulled out a small diorama that was the size of a book. It was Sherlock Holmes apartment.

“It’s for your bookshelf. It’s like a little decoration. I thought Sherlock would be perfect.” you said softly.

“This is perfect, thank you.” He whispered looking at the details.

“There are a few loose items that are still in the box. Once you set it up it’ll look great.” you added.

Spencer put his gift back in the box and looked at you with a warm fondness that took your breath away for a moment. You’re still tipsy and feel warm all over and he’s looking at you with those big hazel doe eyes that have mesmerized you.

“Stop looking at me like that...” you murmured, your hand playing with the magpie charm on your neck.

Spencer chuckled, “Like what?” he tilted his head.

You frowned, “Like, I don’t know, your big puppy eyes... like I’m doing something special.”

Spencer tilted his head and stepped closer, “You are special.”

Your face heats up in a flush, “Merry Christmas.” He pulled you into a quick hug before turning to leave.

“Merry Christmas...” you murmured watching him leave.

You lean against the door when you come back inside and cover your face.

You heard murmured whispers from the living room and giggles.

“He’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.” Bridget’s voice drifts toward you in a high-pitched tone.

“What are you? Twelve?!” You groaned walking back into the living room.

“Mmmmm maybe?” Bridget said with a giggle and threw her arms around you.

You rolled your eyes and tried to stop the flush from creeping down your body.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds

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halfhoursonearth-writes · 9 months ago

Note

Can you recommend fanfiction that you personally really like?

Yes! Love this ask. I’ve never made a Zutara fic rec list partially because I’ve read so many wonderful stories over time that I find the prospect daunting!

But there are absolutely certain stories that I have a personal soft spot for, that I return to again and again. And that’s my criteria for what’s included below. This is a sampling of fics that I find myself coming back to, in no particular order. I may come back and add more, because this list is so far from exhaustive. A mix of ratings (marked), so keep that in mind.

Wish I Was the Moon by Like a Dove (T), post-canon: There’s so much that I love about the way this one-shot explores Katara’s character and what she faces post-canon, how she frees herself, strikes out in the world and finds her way home. Her feelings for Zuko, and her inner-conflict around them, are rendered tangibly, both through scene and subtext. A really good example of how an author can show a character’s lack of/journey to self-knowledge without breaking voice.

Refraction by caroes3725 (E), post-canon: When I started reading Zutara fanfic (for me this was in 2020), this was the fic I was looking for—a deep, realistic-to-canon, in-character exploration of how Zutara could unfold after the events of ATLA in a way that gives Katara in particular the arc she deserves. Really well-done development of the Fire Nation court world, well-developed characters, shining dialogue. An amazingly well-worth-it slow burn.

Wildfire by rainstormdragon (E), post-canon: To me this story is kind of a steamy Zutara thesis. The characters are so spot on and alive, their flaws are on full display in a way that feels realistic, and their chemistry is powered by their compatibility—matched in passion and stubbornness, and also in what they want from life. And I think it really gets Aang, too, which is something that can be hard to find in ZK fic. Also really hot, but that's only part of what makes it really shine.

Partners in Learning by evergreenonthehorizon (T), Modern AU: One of the things I love in modern AUs is watching an author weave that invisible string between these characters. Sometimes, it’s by writing narrative arcs that parallel the series, and sometimes it’s by drawing out the personality traits that make the characters both lovable to readers and such a compelling match and watching that spark bloom into flame. This beautifully written story does that so, so well in a really compelling Modern AU setting. Zuko and Katara here are so wonderfully lovable, and it’s a joy to watch them fall for one another, too.

Journeys by Smediterranea (E), Modern AU: In real life, I want to see my friends in relationships with people who can recognize why they’re so particularly amazing. That potential, I think, part of the appeal of ZK as a ship, and that’s part of the special magic of this fic. Watching these two characters get to know one another—really see one another—and fall in love deliciously sweeps the reader up. Plus, really fun, in character cameos from the rest of the Gaang along the way.

Spark, set fire by marijayne (T), Modern AU: literary fanfic, and I mean that in the best way. This story is beautiful and bittersweet, the latter is not often something I seek out in fanfic (where I hide from life), but here it’s gorgeous and worth it. The world building here is really cool—allows the author to explore some of a set of cultural issues/interactions that both echo the ATLA world and ours. The characters are so tenderly drawn (dadko especially)—and the connection between them builds beautifully and tangibly—and the longing is…chef’s kiss.

Wrong when it's right by nire (T), Book 1 Canon Divergence: Before I read this, I couldn't imagine wanting to read a Book 1 Zutara. After, I wanted more. Bickering, bed-roll sharing, shared heat, tenderness and common ground. A delight from start to finish.

Anyway, thanks for asking and happy reading! <3 And if you want more recs, let me know.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zutara fanfic #zutara fic recs #zutara fanfic reccomendations

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necrotic-nephilim · 5 months ago

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@profandomhopper i was going to reblog the original post this comment was left on but i felt it divorced itself from the original topic so much, you get your own post for giving me delightful permission to ramble about this. buckle in people this is long.

so, DC is a big fandom that expanses a lot of different types of content, and like anything, is subject to crossovers. the obvious ones like Marvel are for the reason of being a similar and equally popular superhero world, so it's easy to transpose the worlds onto each other and overlap the characters. both of these worlds deal with multiverses and endless, endless heroes. it makes sense and there's no real stretch to think Batman and Spider-Man could co-exist. i mean, there have been canon crossover comics. and even some more random crossovers like White Collar have pretty easy to trace origins, being an actor in WC was a popular Dick fancast back in the day so there was some bleeding over that led to a well-loved niche crossover space.

but Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug are where it gets interesting. because at a surface, MLB sort of makes sense. it's a superhero world, you're following a teen girl superhero and sure the mechanics are pretty contained, but the crossover should make sense. but when you compare it to the crossover numbers of other superhero media like say My Hero Academia, Ladybug takes the *crown* with such a bizarre popularity. and of course, DP feels like it makes even less sense. sure, you *could* lump it into at the very least, superhero-adjacent media, but it's not a true hero world like MLB or DC is.

but, the thing to always understand about DC, *especially* the Batfamily (which is where the crossover content propagates the most) is this: a *very* good chunk of fans don't interact with the comics. i would venture to say even most Batfamily fans don't read the comics and actively talk about it. we've all read a very fandom big Batfam fanfic where the author's note mentions the writer has never touched a comic in their life. typically, these fans are either cobbling together their understanding from fandom content, or by frankensteining unrelated DC adaptations to understand each character. you take Bruce from Batman: TAS, you take Dick from the animated Young Justice, you take Jason from Batman: Under The Red Hood animated movie, you take Damian from the DCAMU Batman vs Robin, and you read some fandom metas to fill in the rest and well, you've got some sort of an understanding of these characters. read enough incorrect quotes, some genfic, a couple of character metas, and boom, you understand the Batfamily fandom enough to start creating your own content. and of course now. now you have Wayne Family Adventures so it's even *easier*. a pretty easy to pick up webtoon that's filling in all the gaps for you. but i've been in this fandom long enough to remember before we had WFA and even then, this was still a common, if not the most popular way, to ween yourself into the DC fandom space. you cherry-picked the canon you liked and then plunged into the depths of fanon.

i'm not here to make in depth commentary on if i think this is a good or bad thing. trust me i have that commentary in my head, but that would need it's own post. i'm very split on it and my feelings are complicated. my feelings on WFA are even *more* complicated. because oftentimes, the attitude expressed by these fans who are frankensteining this version of the Batfamily/DC world they have in their head is they don't *want* to read the comics. the comics don't contain the content they're after. and to an extent, i understand that. if you're looking for light-hearted vibes of the Batfamily all getting along and having the occasional hurt/comfort moments but in the end, they hug and make up, you're right. largely, you won't find that in canon. of course there are so many comics to recommend for Batfamily interactions, but you have to get specific. you'll find them interacting in small groups, Tim and Dick bonding here, Duke and Cass bonding there, but largely, the comics don't care to balance the ridiculously large cast they've given themselves. but fandom does. it's easy to toss them all in a blender and ignore the parts you don't like. the default argument to ignoring the comics or writing something OOC is always "well the comics are OOC and inconsistent too" which, while a flawed argument that massively misunderstand how comics work as a medium, isn't an entirely incorrect one. you could serve on a silver platter to these fans, an easy and accessible way to get into comics and they wouldn't be interested. it's not what they're here for. fandom is always character-driven above all else. it's driven by character relationships and dynamics. if someone wants to consume content where Tim idolized and stalked Jason as 'his Robin' and now is trying to help him rehabilitate and they're super complicated but have this long epic forgiveness arc, why *would* they read the comics? because they're sure as shit not going to find that dynamic in the comics. it's laughably OOC and not canon at all, but that doesn't matter. what matters is the sandbox. most Batfamily fans care *far* more about the sandbox canon gives them than the actual canon itself. feel how you feel about that, this really isn't being negative toward that attitude, but it is a common attitude.

so, you have Batfamily fans playing in the sandbox and building their own narrative. common fandom headcanons are so common, you could practically write a guide on how the fanon Batfamily works with how consistent people are about it. or you could just read WFA, which is practically the new manifesto of it. even now, with this sudden spike in people talking about canon accuracy and "actually this happening in the comics", they don't actually care about the comics, just what they can cherry-pick for fodder. (even if they rob it of so much context they're just as OOC as they were before. see specifically: the recent phenomena with Tim Drake going from the woobified weakest member of the Batfam who everyone needs to save constantly and he's the smart boy but he's also the one with a sad tragic neglectful past who gets overlooked being the way Batfamily fandom played with Tim for years. but recently, people seem to be pushing this idea of a ridiculously badass Tim, Tim who *totally* has a kill count because of his actions in RR (2009) if you take them completely out of context, Tim who bested Ra's and is even more badass than Jason and he's the 17 yr old CEO of Wayne Industries being cool and flawless it becoming the new fandom zeitgeist. neither of these versions of Tim are canon, and the second fundamentally misunderstands his arc in RR (2009) but the shift has undeniably happened and it's been fascinating to watch. the same thing happened with people suddenly deciding Jason isn't the "angry violent Robin", he was a sunshine sweet boy who was perfect as Robin. neither of these are true, but the second feels more transgressive and new to fandom from cherry-picked panels.) the point is largely, Batfamily fans would rather build their own canon than play with the actual canon.

and then, you have Danny Phantom. i'm not into DP and have no interest to get into it, but what i know about it via fandom osmosis is this: DP fans sort of also don't give a fuck about canon. once again, the canon of DP is a sandbox, not a rulebook. the concepts and the characters are the draw, not the plot itself. i've seen DP posts explaining characters who are essentially OCs, but have become so dominant in the fandom via fandom osmosis. there are concepts and ideas about how Danny's powers work and potential concepts with his ghost nature that either aren't in canon or only happened once in canon and fans decided to expand on that and doesn't care about it's own in-universe logic. i've seen a lot of DP fans also express they haven't seen the show and they don't have plans to see the show. because the show is just some children's cartoon with some inconsistencies and a simple plot, as you'd expect from CN. the show isn't the point. no one cares about it's plot, they care about it's characters. they care about pushing the concept of half ghost boy to a logical extreme and seeing what you can get out of that. can you make it weird and fucked up. how much can you highlight on his trauma and body horror. what identity crisis can you give him and how can you build his interactions with other characters in his world around that and also make those characters fun and unique on their own. sure, the skeleton of canon is there, but the meat lies all in the fanon.

Miraculous Ladybug also exists in this similar vein. the characters, the concepts, those hold intrigue. and not even mentioning the fact the original concept for this show was supposed to be aimed to an older audience, so you can see the bones of something a bit more mature and nuanced under this typical, villain of the week magical girl transformation show. the show itself is a bit shallow and that's not a *bad* thing, it's just the medium it exists within being aimed towards children. but the concepts of a teen girl who's basically a sort of chosen one, a boy who doesn't know his father is the big bad of the show, and their weird identity porn love... square thing. those dynamics are *so* complicated and such a fun sandbox to play in with character-driven fandom.

so, at the core, you have three fandoms that care more about the culturally accepted fanon than the canon, with a good chunk of people often not even consuming the original canon content. and well, DC is an *easy* world to transpose just about anything onto. a boy who's half ghost and fighting supernatural threats? that makes sense, DC has ghost heroes like Deadman already. a girl who has this magical item that gives her animal themed superpowers? i mean that's practically the same thing as Vixen's Totem so that one makes sense too. they fit in pretty easy, no needing to change the world to accommodate them. and of course, if you're a fan of *one* fandom where you don't care for the canon content and only like the fandom sandbox, chances are, you'll get drawn in pretty easily to another fandom with similar mechanics. if you can teach yourself the DP fandom rules/concepts, you can teach yourself the Batfamily fandom rules/concepts. and well, since there's so much crossover in fandom members, why not write the fanfiction? crossover fics will always exist, but with such a shared member base, you have a really big boom.

it's why the characters you see DP interact with in DC are *always* characters who are far more driven by fanon than canon. Danny and John Constantine is a *massive* concept. for people who don't read Hellblazer comics. my poor partner, @divine-dominion has lamented to me pretty often about finding DP content in the Hellblazer tag that is essentially turning Constantine into an OC. because whatever version of Constantine is being written about isn't one bit comics accurate, and really, isn't trying to be. and the same thing happens with Shazam. you watch Young Justice and understand him well enough, you get drawn in by the character concept that you just run with it. people put their favorite blorbos in the same place because hey, wouldn't ghost boy be pretty cool in a city like *Gotham*. how would Batman even react to him. and then, the shipping. because ages for the Batfamily can be easily hand-waved and moved around based on where you plop Danny into the timeline, you have your pick of the litter with him, and same with Ladybug. of course there are the most popular ships but largely, the world is your oyster.

i don't think this is the worst thing in the world for either fandom. it's not hard to filter out the crossover tags and scroll past content i don't like. and sure, i see the appeal of making your blorbos from two different places meet. i've got my drafts *full* of DC/MHA crossover ideas because well, i like them both and think that would be cool. i think my only gripe with it is when DP or MLB crossover content seeps it's way into the wrong tags. using the above example, if you're writing about Danny and Constantine but there's zero content of the actual Hellblazer comics, i don't think you need the Hellblazer tag, just the Constantine character tag. tbh i wish this extended onto Ao3 and people utilized fandom tags better. if you're writing Batfamily fanfiction that is very clearly and obviously WFA driven in characterization and concepts, i would far prefer those fics be tagged with the WFA fandom tag rather than the Batman (comics) fandom tag. because well, you're not writing about the Batman comics. and there's nothing wrong with that, but it helps if you don't confuse yourself for content striving to interact with canon more. (this especially extends to Young Justice, by the way. if you're writing for the Young Justice tv show please, please stop using the Young Justice (comics) fandom tag. i'm at my wit's end- /lh)

the whole thing is fascinating. i've got zero interest in entering DP or MLB as fandoms because that's not my speed, but witnessing it as an outsider is my favorite pastime. i see a *lot* of posts going around the DC x DP space that are helping explain to people who's who, what's what, and understanding the canon/fanon of both of these properties so others can better enter the space. which is not something you'd need in a fandom driven only by it's canon content, but it is sweet watching others try to help newbies enter the space. it's a very inviting fandom space, i think, whether you lament it's existence or not. they're just sitting in their corner with their blorbos, and i gotta respect that. the posts explaining the Batfamily to DP fans are always fun for me to read, even if i disagree with some of the characterizations in them because it helps shine a light on what the fans of this crossover regard as "important" enough about each fandom to be worth including those sorts of primers. very fascinating stuff.

#necrotic festerings #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x mlb #danny phantom #miraculous ladybug #batfamily #dc comics #fandom meta #fandom analysis #but i can totally write more of these analysis type posts bc i *love* this shit #it's like fandom anthropology #fan studies #love that shit and i have *so* many case studies i could write about cultural phenomena in the batfamily fandom space #bc you can tell by my. everything i'm a comics purist #but i'm not totally negative to fanon #i roll my eyes. I cringe. I send long rants to my loved ones.#but i live and let live and i'm not going to jump down a fanon post for being painfully incorrect. it's just mean and not how we behave.#like there's a difference that and between correcting ppl who say 'in the comics-' when they haven't read the comics #but most ppl aren't claiming their content is based on the comics. and i can respect that honesty #like you're just rawdogging it #i understand the appeal of it. seriously no shade it's a fun sandbox if you just want cool blorbos.#it's *not* how I do fandom but to each their own #and ofc i want comic accurate fanfic but i can find that on my own. it's not hard to do #some comic purists act like there's *no* comic fandom content and come on now.#it's pretty easy to tell the difference when you're scrolling ao3. let's not be unkind to content not made for us.#but i'm serious please do stay out of comic tags if you're not writing comic content. it's my only gripe with this whole thing.#besides that be gay be free.#be cringe. it's freeing i promise.#i jest about being sick of that green ghost boy and that ladybug girl in fandom but it's all silly. i really don't mind.

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