#there is nuance but I err on the side of not giving a shit because I know what that bucket did to my brain

[tvwolfsnake]

kills me when I see a post about maybe Not being constantly vigilant and/or that bad people make good art sometimes and/or that the content of art you engage with does not inherently mean anything about you as a person. and there's a person in the notes going no!! you cannot do that! you have to be vigilant, you have to keep a list of Problematic People in yr head at all times and not touch their work lest you get Tainted, you have to tie yr morality to fiction!!

and I can almost see their claw, reaching in desperation to try to pull someone back into the moral OCD bucket with them

[torchickentacos]

cmon cmon, talk shit harder, which youtuber was it, what did they do

JKHGKJDFNGKJDFGN okay so I won't say which youtuber because it's a fairly small one relative to the rest of commentarytube but I AM willing to give into rage a little bit. Context- I'd made a post saying that it bugs me that youtubers don't always research topics well before giving commentary on them, my example being cosmetic dentistry (which is an industry that has been under a lot of fire lately- the beauty industry and cosmetic procedure industry as a whole). My issue is with the way that youtubers spread misinformation and fearmongering about these topics and procedures for the sake of 'fuck beauty standards! look at me go! fuck the system! wooo!' rather than taking a realistic approach to these conversations.

I have strong feelings on this topic! I have Ehlers Danlos syndrome (I promise this is leading somewhere). Certain types of EDS have dental implications and complications, and I've struggled with them. I had braces in high school and despite following the care instructions by the letter, I ended up with significant and visible enamel decay around the brackets likely due to enamel hypoplasia (underdevelopment). I opted for a crown on the worst of them and veneers on a few others to cover the damage and as an extra layer of protection (though it's worth noting that veneers are largely cosmetic).

As such, when I see several videos being made with people going 'look what they do to your beautiful natural teeth for veneers :(' (before then showing the procedure for crowns or even implants and then speaking negatively about those who give and receive these procedures), I... have opinions!

It begs the question to me- was my choice a bad one because I played into a predatory cosmetic industry while also dealing with a genuine health complication? At what point are elective cosmetic procedures morally okay? What justifies them? Am I a victim of societal beauty standards or someone who made a good choice for herself? Both? I am genuinely happy with my decision. I haven't regretted it for a second. I've smiled more in the last few years than I have since I was a kid. But am I part of the problem like some people seem to imply?

I'm going to partake in some what-aboutism but I truly feel that it's relevant. What about other elective procedures? They're all exercises of personal autonomy. Are only some of those okay? The person who survived breast cancer doesn't need breast reconstruction on a physical level. Is it still justified? We've seen tons of people arguing about gender reaffirming/reconstructive surgeries even though they save lives. At what point do cosmetic procedures fall under that umbrella? What is and is not okay? What autonomy is and is not frowned upon?

My stance is that the cosmetic surgery industry is predatory and needs better regulation, but ultimately it's a person's choice. Sometimes that choice is influenced by outside factors when it shouldn't be but that's something that people need to take into account for themselves before deciding rather than a reason to make them illegal as I've seen some people put forth as an option. This is a precarious time to be messing with 'which elective procedures are okay and which aren't and which should be legal'. I personally would rather err on the side of personal autonomy in every situation possible.

I believe in a person’s right to cosmetic surgery as an extension of my belief in personal autonomy. I believe in viewing cosmetic surgery as a morally neutral decision. The industry is predatory but I think it also has the capacity to greatly improve lives. I think many things can be true at once and I think that the recent wave of commentary on the industry lacks nuance.

Caveats for if this gains any traction: I did not say that I think everyone should adhere to beauty standards. I did not say that I think the industry is great, actually. I did not say that people should uncritically accept the ideals that are marketed toward them. I did not say that elective surgeries are vital to happiness or presentation of any sort. None of what I said exists in a vacuum and there are infinite complications to my opinions and there are situations in which I might double back on myself, but this is just a general opinion.

[kariachi]

Thought of the the Fuck it's Half Past Midnight: Previous shit I've done poking at omegaverse style shit (with the caveat that I'm not generally an omegaverse sorta dude so I'm not in on all the modern nuances and such (seriously though I've seen some interesting explorations of the topic from a social and biological standpoint, hats off to the fuckers playing with that)) has leaned into biology because I am a biology weirdo before most types of weirdo, but if you leaned real fucking heavy into magic...

Like the problem I kept running into is that if you look at shit through a biological framework then you run into problems regarding, well, biology and ecology. Nature tends to err towards simple and effective, and omegaverse stuff the way it's commonly done just... isn't on the simple or effective end. It's complicated, it's messy, figuring out how the genitals are supposed to work once you actually factor in fuckers who aren't cis men is a bear. But! If you move away from this all as a biological matter and lean towards a magical matter, that should open up plenty more doors!

Magic has to have rules, yes, but when it comes to things like biology and laws of nature, magic does not give a fuck!

If you tie the typical omega things of heat cycles and pregnancies independent of sex to certain magics rather than an extra layer of biological flavor, then that opens up a nice handful of doors as far as potential for character and worldbuilding is concerned. What sort of magic causes this? Why does it cause these side effects? Is it innate or learned? Are these the only major effects? How commonplace is it? What uses are there? Is there a separate magic that causes the typical alpha symptoms? What causes that? Why? What are the effects, etc? Is everyone divided between these two or are there multiple different set-ups? Or are there these two and then everyone else doesn't have to worry about this sex-based bullshittery? Are there effects of combining the magic? What effects does this addition to the concept have culturally and socially?

Because a story where fuckers are innately alphas or omegas would be very different from one where you can actively choose to be one or the other.

A story where there's omegas but no alphas would be very different from one where there's both. Or one where there's more.

A story where omegas and alphas breeding is the norm is very different from where it's a Whole Thing that like, is how dragons happen or something.

And turning back to the biological shit, leaning hard into magic can easily clear up the issues there. 'What about necessary parts'? Not an issue, this is magic at play and magic doesn't care. 'What about how pregnancies and birth work'? Magic does not care and there's a million ways to play on that- it could ensure proper part exist as part of the magic, it could allow for infants to simply be manifested rather than birthed, fuck, it's magic, you could have fuckers hack up eggs when knocked up that then grow and hatch into offspring, the limits are nonexistent as long as you stay consistent!

Throw magic into play and you can get straight up metaphysical with shit! Maybe the pregnancies are sympathetic, the body reacting to the slow, purely magical creation of a new being that eventually manifests. Maybe they're truly physical but wildly different from a 'proper' pregnancy, involving a buildup of magic overtime that then ends in a new being budding off from the dam. Or maybe you stay more classic and the magic just ensures the necessary pregnancy parts, or even just a uterus, allowing for something more 'normal'.

Just, brain, circling idly.

[toasttz]

How to Make Games: Gacha Games

Hey, do you wanna make more money than several member nations of the EU?! I know I sure did, so when I was 12 my sister and I set up a lemonade stand that made several times the value of Greece's GDP when you consider that negatives cancel each other out. Hey, do you want to make MEANINGFUL amounts of money and have zero moral compunctions that might inhibit your success even though the road to the top is steep and lined with unethical business practices? Well, just insert $29.99 (397.48 Canadian dollars) and I'll teach you how to make some fuckin' gacha games! Gacha games, games inspired by a terrifying Japanese tradition known as "Seppuku" where you shoot pinballs in order to undress a girl carrying a bowl of ramen - before I go any further I feel that my understanding of Japanese culture may be a little out of date, so apologies where necessary - and something else happens, blah, blah, blah, and you get some toys or some shit. When it was discovered that Android and iOS can be programmed in such a simple and fast way that typewriters and some house plants with high RAM amounts can run the code, the market soon became flooded, but not saturated, with gacha games. Why hasn't the market hit saturation point despite the fact I can't scroll further than a gnat's dick in winter's length on the Google Play Store without hitting one? Because, as the wise Chinese philanderer, Aristotle, posited, "The difference in hardcore pr0n and gacha is a string bikini and $39.99 USD, but the amount of shame is equal in both," So, the games are retardedly easy to code and the only decision you'll spend one afternoon making is if you want to spend 2 hours making it a fully-automated RPG, 5 hours to make it a complex battler with some meaningful gimmicks, or 15 minutes copying Puzzles & Dragons. These options have totally not been done to death, so feel no worry if you can't be arsed to innovate. Once you have done the easy part, the next part is to locate someone with artistic talent and ask them to draw girls. Lots and lots of girls. Unlike H-games, the theme here can be as broad or narrow or as obtuse as you want. In fact, you can use multiple themes or just do what most of these games do and just steal from history and myth and make them all girls! It literally doesn't matter how deep or nuanced your story or gameplay are if the 2D waifus are cute enough. Lots of girls are necessary - tall girls, short girls, thicc girls, lean girls, brown girls, bunny girls... just don't stop making girls. Ever. You'll be expected to actually update about every two weeks or so, but that's getting ahead of ourselves. Lastly, for each summoning banner, place four characters on them in varied, dynamic poses and outfits in the ratio of 3 girls and 1 guy. "Guys?" I hear you ask incredulously. Yes, I recently read a very scientific study that said girls sometimes use the internet now and, so, to compensate for this possible oversight, each banner needs one shirtless guy, but unlike girls, never vary their body types. Just watch a few Marvel movies for their shirtless stud scenes and copy that - that's all you'll have to do! And sometimes give them different hats, so they know they're different guys. What? Sound design? Pffft. Don't be ridiculous. Everyone's going to be playing this game at their jobs when they can't play their real game libraries, so they're just going to mute them. Those that don't will be the creepy weirdos just listening to their waifu of choice's voice actress anyway. Besides, Wendee Lee is gonna do 85% of the voices anyway. You can just skip this part. The core of any gacha game, as it was foretold in the Japanese romcom, The Art of War & Peace, by Leo Toystore, is their summoning mechanic. You need some kind of in-game currency to exchange in order to summon heroes to make up your party. Sure, you'll give the players some generic filler heroes, but they'll all be bottom-tier and Worst Waifus(TM) with no real potential for growth, but that way no one can call foul on your game design. The real draw will be summoning, so make your orbs or your gems or whatever, just be sure that they're artificially inflated like nations that no longer rely on the gold and silver standards, because just like those nations that no longer rely on the gold and silver standards your imaginary currency is backed by fucking nothing other than your insistence that, yes, 300 platinum gems totally costs $49.99, stop asking so many questions! The second-most pivotal point is that your exchange between currencies and summons is completely irrational. Anything from 5 to 150 is acceptable, just so long as it's never, ever 1:1. That would make it easy for your fans to deduce the true value of your currencies and that's literally the last thing you want. You can set aside special vouchers for people who acquire enough "Good Boy Points" by making the game a habit rather than a game in the requisite "Daily Login Bonus" category. But those are entirely secondary and should still have the same low, low rates of drawing heroes anyone gives a shit about. About once a year you can hand them 5-Star Summon Vouchers, if they have enough Good Boy Points and throw them a bone to keep them in the dopamine loop. So, once the game is on market, just rotate your banners every two weeks, usually in the pattern of "Useless, Fanservicey" Banner twice, then "Mechanically Powerful Characters" Banner once, then repeat. That way players are inclined to waste their currencies on bathing suit beauties or Valentine's Day honeys instead of the St. Patrick's Day themed Hero who has S Ranks in Strength and Defense. This will incentivize players to routinely pay up like the good little whales they're meant to be. Err, I mean... it will encourage players to contribute to your work economy, so your studio can keep the lights on... like the good little whales they're meant to be! There we go, much better. Now just slap on a campaign mode and a crap-ton of side missions - preferably one or more for each hero you make in order to pad out the game length - and then slap a Stamina Bar on top of that! Make sure they can't do more than 10 missions in a day's time at the highest possible levels, so they don't blast through your paper-thin experience and keep ponying up properly. This will also tie back into the "make the game a habit" goal we talked about earlier. Once you have enough starving artists ball-n-chained to their writer desks churning out waifus, that's pretty much it! You have a sustainable game in the same way a drug cartel overlord does! Now make another following the above and enjoy double the money, ad infinitum! Also, one last bit of writing advice: never actually finish the story. Just keep adding new 'twists' and 'complications' no matter how hackneyed they may be! If they're getting bi-weekly banners, they aren't complaining that the story only updates every financial quarter when the investors start asking questions! Bonus points for making your characters aware of the events as they come and go and reference past banners - this will add the illusion of depth to your writing and characters. Congrats! You're contributing to the blight on the Earth's surface known as cell phone games. When the aliens find us and we try to rationalize all the good we've done, yours will be one among many sins that cause us to get vaporized to make way for a cosmic-scale McDonalds. But, hey, you can't take all that shit-ton of money you'll make with you when you go anyway. You're welcome.

[bluerene]

river, part one [starx]

hi 

it’s been a looooong while since I’ve really posted any writing (coughLIABILITYcough) but I’ve been working on this for a while and it feels worthy of being put up. Technically, the whole thing is meant to be a longass oneshot, but I figured that with tumblr’s format, it might just be better in shorter breaks. 

I’ll post on ff.net once all the parts are uploaded here. I don’t think it’ll exceed 5? 

things to note, uhhhhh, inspired by the hook from Eminem’s “River ft. Ed Sheeran”. also @fireflyxrebel ‘s blog bc starx <3 <3 <3 And my innate need to start new stories when I haven’t finished any. Post-Tokyo, sans kiss. 

I invite critiques, requests, reblogs, and reviews (i.e. please tell me if it’s garbage :)!!!

without further ado, this is River. 

I’ve been a liar, been a thief

been a lover, been a cheat

all my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me

Little one, I don’t wanna admit to something

If all it’s gonna cause is pain

Truth and my lies, now, are falling like the rain

So let the river run

I did it for the look on his face.

Man, you should’ve seen it. I think he might’ve stopped breathing. It only lasted for a moment, but damn, it was funny. Then he started throwing punches. She was dazed and pink but she managed to wiggle out of the red bands that strapped her to the wall. Her fists were clenched, but she didn’t look angry. Confused, stunned, maybe even a little curious.

The next bit was mostly a blur - I was busy dodging his fury, making little comments that only irked him more. I glanced over at her a few times. She was distracted, not really making a move to catch me. He was too busy dealing with me to notice that the only teammate at his disposal was a bystander.

Bird Boy knew my moves well. He landed a few nasty hooks, his steel shoes connecting with my chest once or twice. We were too evenly matched to make the fight come to a clean end. He anticipated the toys in my belt, from the x-shaped shurikens to the scarlet rubber bindings I enjoyed shooting so often.

I played the weakness. I glanced at her again, more noticeably, and raised my palms, prepared to strike.

It worked - he turned around and shouted her name, snapping her out of her thoughts. I shifted my aim and fired, wrapping him in thick red cords.

“Robin!” She shrieked, transferring something from her fist to her pocket.

“It’s been fun playing, kids,” I said calmly, “but I’ve gotta run.”

She was at his side immediately, peeling away the tightly wound bands.

“Hey, cutie,” I called, grinning at the sight of her crimson cheeks, “think about what I said.”

I gave them a two-fingered salute and tapped my belt, teleporting to the rooftop of the warehouse we were in. Ordinarily I’d try to get as far away from them as possible, but I was low on juice and until I replaced the Xenothium in the suit, I’d be stuck making short jumps - too short to escape their field of view.

“What the hell just happened, Starfire?” Ouch, he sounded pissed. Pissed and loud.

I positioned myself flat against the roof, straining to hear more.

“He escaped,” she said mournfully, “oh, Robin, I am truly sorry, I was...out of my skull?”

“Head,” he corrected, softening slightly, “what did X say to you? Where’s the paper he gave you?”

“He merely made another of the date comments,” her voice was meek and apologetic. I could picture her twisting her fingers nervously or playing with her hair, “and I... the paper was burnt by my starbolts.”

That made me do a double take. She was lying.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Indeed. But there is nothing we can do about him now, yes?”

He sighed tiredly, “yeah, whatever. He didn’t make off with much. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. We should head back, patrol wasn’t supposed to run so late.”

“Robin-”

“Don’t worry, Star. I’m fine, just frustrated. You’re right, there’s nothing that can be done right now.”

She seemed to accept this, not fighting back with any words as they exited the warehouse. I scooched closer to the edge of the roof, careful to keep out of view.

“Ride back with me?” He offered.

“Another time,” she replied, sounding alarmingly close, “I believe I require a midnight flight.”

I turned my head in what I assumed was her direction and - well, shit, there she was, floating with her back to me.

“Suit yourself. Don’t be too long, I’ll lockdown the tower after you’ve come in.”

“Thank you, Robin.” She turned and looked straight at me, lips pressed in a thin line.

I made a move for my belt, stopping when she shook her head. It was such an imperceptible movement, I was certain I had imagined it. But I obeyed anyway, waiting for the sound of the bike revving and speeding off into the night, until we were enveloped in silence once more.

She landed beside me and hoisted me up by the front of my suit, pushing me onto my feet. I stumbled back and shot her a glare.

“Ease up, cutie.”

“You do not get to speak to me in that manner,” she seethed, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a crumpled up piece of paper, “I will give you ten seconds to explain what this is before I throw you into the harbor.”

I shrugged, “it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“I do not understand. Even you are not stupid enough to give me-”

“My phone number? Stupid, no, interested, yes. Don’t try tracing it, you won’t get anywhere.” This wasn’t entirely true, but I was pretty confident she’d believe me.

“What did you hope to accomplish with this?”

“A date,” I said cheekily, “or a chat. I’ll be walking away from here with at least one, that’s for sure.”

She frowned, “I am still confused.”

“Me too, actually, why’d you lie to your boyfriend?”

She blanched, turning away quickly.

“He is not my boyfriend.” She muttered.

“Nuance,” I said smoothly, moving to stand beside her, “you still lied.”

“Would you have preferred I allow him to attack you?”

“Well, no, but I’m surprised you took my feelings into consideration.”

She shook her head, “it is not that. I am trying to understand you, and I do not think involving Robin would be of any help.”

“Oh? What do you wanna know?” I moved closer to her, praying that she wouldn’t crush my bones if we touched.

“Why do you do this, X?” She asked quietly, turning to face me, her fingers still clutching the scrap of paper I’d shoved into her hand twenty minutes earlier.

“I can’t help it if I like you, beautiful.”

She blushed and stepped out of my reach, shaking her head, “I am not referring to the flirting. I am referring to...the facade. The persona. X, you are capable of so much.”

Ohhhhhh, fuck. This was not where I wanted the conversation to go. I figured I’d tease her a little, flirt things up, play the game.

“You think too highly of me,” I said quickly, crossing my arms.

“I do not think that is true,” she replied, “you are strong and clever and you have aided us on several occasions. You could be a great asset to the Titans if you-”

“I’m not interested in being recruited, cutie,” I shot flatly, “I’m a thief. I do what I want, when I want. That’s all there is to me.”

“You are wrong. I know there is more.”

“You don’t know me.”

That shut her up. I felt bad, but not enough to take back what I’d said. I wasn’t wrong. She had no idea what she was talking about.

“Then let me.”

What?

“Excuse me?”

“Let me know you,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument, “you have been persistent about taking me on an outing. I will go on a date with you, if you allow me the chance to truly know you.”

I shook my head, thankful that the mask hid my eyes which were probably the size of dinner plates.

“No way, cutie, you’re crazy.”

She shrugged, “perhaps I am, but I will not leave you with much of a choice. You will take me out on a pleasant excursion and allow me the opportunity to get to know you better. In return, I will not inform Robin of our conversation tonight, or give him this-” she brandished the slip of paper triumphantly.

“It’s a dead number anyways,” I lied, “go ahead, he’ll probably be more pissed at you anyways.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips curving into a smirk.

“You underestimate Robin. And you underestimate me.”

I had to smile at that, “Cutie, I would never underestimate you.”

“Marvelous. Then I shall contact you via this number to arrange an evening for our date. I would appreciate it if you cooperated, but it is not necessary, because this will happen either way,” she said briskly, rising into the air.

“One question,” I said, definitely not getting caught up in the sight of her long red hair flowing in the cool night air, “why are you doing this?”

She smiled slightly, “I believe in chances and goodness. Consequently, I believe you deserve to have and be both.”

“No, no,” I shook my head, “I meant the date.”

She blushed again, “conceivably...it could be fun.”

With that, she was gone, her exit accented by a bright green streak in the sky.

-

X’hal I must be insane.

Raven certainly thinks so. I told her what I had done - used Red X’s affections for me against him. She feels it is a terrible idea. I do not disagree.

I find him to be intriguing. He has proven himself to be worthy of the Titans time and time again, saving us, assisting us, often choosing to help rather than run. He claims his motives are his own, and perhaps they are, but I truly feel there is more to it.

To be clear, I am still very confused by many of his actions. I do not understand why he has chosen crime, nor do I understand why he flirts with me. I am not even sure the flirting is genuine.

Humans are such complex creatures. They err more often than not. Matters of honor hold great weight with some and no weight at all for others. Actions are coupled with intent to determine consequence.

Humans also veil their emotions. They feign kindness to disguise malice. Conversely, they can act cold to hide affection. I have seen it often with Robin.

Tamaranians are the opposite. We are compelled by our soul and our strength. We pride ourselves on our ability to feel, and express our feelings through touch rather than verbally. I have become quite accustomed to the various displays of physical affection humans utilize. High-fives and the bumping of fists in congratulations. Hugs for comfort, friendly kisses on foreheads and cheeks, sometimes hands as a means of being silly or flirtatious. Mouths with romantic intent. This, I find rather foreign.

Raven suggested, rather hesitantly, that I might have agreed to Red X’s request because I have been feeling lonely and I enjoy his attention. I know she did not mean to insult me, but I felt slightly affronted. Mostly because I could not disagree with this observation either.

I have long given up on Robin. Tokyo put a distance between us, an uncomfortable bubble that neither of us have been able to break. He is still my friend. I still love him. But I am tired of waiting.

Red X has always been amusing to me, though I try to hide it for Robin’s sake. I do not need his flirtations or compliments, but I certainly enjoy hearing them. It fills me with a strange feeling that twists in my stomachs and makes my heart work a little faster.

Thinking about it now, I realize accepting his offer may have been too bold of a move. I do not know where we will meet or what we will do or how we will dress. I have no alibi prepared, though I am sure Raven will allow me to use her as an excuse. I doubt Red X will tell me anything of true value. He may choose to use this date as an excuse to ��put the moves on’ as Cyborg would say. It could very well be a wasted evening.  

But, if anything, I do think it will be fun.

[end of part 1]

[fallen029]

The Nuances of Seances.4

Previous Chapter

It was the perfect evening for a late hour stroll through the woods. You know, if you were looking to be killed by an axe wielding murderer who would chop your body up and send it to your parents. Anything else you were looking to do, honestly, it just wasn't a good fit for. The blowing wind had a bite to it as it knocked felled leaves all about. The moon was out, but hidden behind dark clouds, obstructing the very little light it had to offer anyways. It was cold out and downright eerie.

And it frightened the heck out of poor Happy.

"So you wanna go out, all by yourself, into the woods at night, and absolutely can't have us follow you?" Lucy had questioned when he told Natsu and her that they were both on their own for the evening, as he had plans. "Happy?"

"Aye," he agreed, nodding his head, though the volume of his voice wasn't nearly as loud as it usually was. Especially when making such a declaration. "I'm gonna meet Lisanna and Bickslow."

"Are you following Lisanna and Bickslow? Little buddy?" Natsu tapped his nose. "'cause I'd be great help at that!"

"Please," Lucy begged, making a face at both of them. "Anything to get the two of you out of my apartment."

"No!" Happy definitely didn't want Natsu to tag along. While the feline would admit that he himself wasn't always the best at making sure a situation didn't fall off the rails, Natsu was a certain insurance that it would. And he and Natsu together? The whole thing would go to shit. The things they did together always went to shit. "I have to do this alone."

And he did. He sent out with only the pack tied around his neck for company, headed deep into the woods that surrounded Magnolia proper. While he was headed there though, across town, the others too were preparing for the hopefully eventful evening.

"I just can't do it, Mira," Elfman was grumbling slightly as they waked along the quiet street. "Eating dinner at that table was horrible."

"It was wonderful, I felt," his older sister gushed in reply. "Didn't you, dragon? Freed?"

"i for one," Evergreen intervened before either of the men could answer, "hate it."

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't ask for your opinion then." Mira glanced over her shoulder at the other woman. "Isn't it?"

As Ever's jaw hit the floor and she debated literally hitting the she-devil, Laxus and Freed only shared a look.

If it had been a long day, the night just might never come to an end.

Happy was already in position, hidden away in the clearing, when the five of them arrived. Ever was stewing as she knew going up against Mirajane, truly going up against her, would only lead to her own downfall, while Elfman kicked at the ground, unsure which of the domineering women in his life he should be siding with. Mirajane though seemed over it (if she was ever on it, that is), instead gushing to Laxus about just how excited she was.

"For, you know, whatever it is that we're doing," she finished with a grin as he only rolled his eyes. "I wonder who we're contacting. Ooh, I hope it's someone famous!"

"Why," Freed asked slowly, "would we summon someone famous? Of what use would that be?"

"I don't know," Mira said with a shrug. "Why do we do any of the things that we do?"

Which was a question worth pondering, honestly, as none of them truly had an answer.

Laxus though, who might to have known why the others did what they did, but certainly knew why he did (how many times does he have to cite fucking Mirajane as an answer before it becomes trite), was distracted by something else.

"Do you guys smell that?" he asked as Happy's heart sank, over in the bushes. "That scent. It smells like one of those damn cats."

"Oh, Laxus, hush." Mira patted him on the arm. "And come sit down. We should all practice our breathing techniques."

"Our what now?" Elfman asked.

"And on the ground? Are we sitting on the ground?" Evergreen regarded the grass and dirt with suspicion. "It's filthy!"

"Yes, Ever," Freed sighed as he took wished very little to do so. However, they'd come that far; to back out over something as silly as that would only make the thing even more aggravating. "That is how it works."

While that got him a glare, it only got Mirajane to clap her hands.

"This is just all so much fun already," she giggled. "Don't you guys think?"

No.

But then, the real excitement was only just beginning. In the distance, they all began to hear the sounds of the approaching seith and Lisanna, the latter's maniacal cackle more than carrying through the dense forest.

"You're gonna love it, Lissy," he was saying as he led the woman in question down the path, deeper and deeper into the forest. "Swear it."

"Swear it," came the drifting voices of five lost souls, forever bound (doomed?) to the control of their master. "Swear it."

Giggling along with him, she remarked, "You always give the best gifts, Bicks."

Err, well, he put some thought into them, at least.

But semantics were for squares.

"And," he was drawing out the word as they found themselves on the cusp of the clearing, "here we are!"

"You...invited the others," was what Lisanna said slowly as she found them there, Freed finally starting on kindling the fire, of which Bickslow had previously gathered sticks for a pile. "On our...date."

"Yep!" Bickslow nodded proudly. "That's exactly what I did."

"Don't you know yet, Lisanna?" Mirajane, who was seated on the ground, no quells about it at all. "We're having a séance!"

"We're having a what?"

"Do not," Ever griped as she still only stood, arms crossed over her chest, "complain, girlie. You're lucky we're even here."

"Judging by the look on her face," Freed mused as he hardly glanced up from the fire he was getting going, "I do not think that she's too excited about that either."

"I'm actually a bit disappointed in you, Lisanna," Elfman spoke up. He too had taken his seat on the ground, at the prompting of his older sister of course, and looked a bit goofy, honestly, to his younger one as he glared up and over at her. "Following a strange man into the forest late at night. What's wrong with you? That's how all horror stories start!"

"He's not strange, Elf. He's Bickslow."

"No, the man's right," Freed assured her. "I've known him half my life now and still, I find that he is very strange."

"What did you think you two would be doing out here anyways?" Ever asked, making a face. "Lisanna?"

"W-Well-"

"Get high and behave like the equivalences they are," Laxus griped much to the amusement of Mirajane who had to reach up and pinch at his cheek.

"Dragon," she giggled as the man sat stoically beside her, allowing this. "You talk like such an old man sometimes. It's so cute."

"I just want to get this over with," he complained. "I have things to do."

"What could you possibly have to do," Elfman complained with a frown, "so late at night?"

"Let me guess," Ever replied softly under her breath, "Mirajane?"

"I heard that and no," he grumbled as he glared off. "Actually, Gramps ain't so good at taking his pills these days. Especially his night ones. And since I've been stuck here with you clowns, I haven't had a chance to check to see what he's taken and hasn't. So after this, I gotta head over there."

That got everyone silent. Even Happy over in the bushes felt it and the dolls, who'd been merrily humming some sort off tune between them, did so softer.

Then, slowly, Bickslow remarked, "Jeez, boss, bring the room down much?"

Lisanna, eyes alight, asked, "Yeah, got any stories about brain tumors stored up?"

Instead of responding, Laxus only leaned down and said quite bluntly and audibly, "Mirajane, I don't like them. Either of them. Any of them. Can't we just go?"

"Oh, hush, dragon." His cheek got some more pinching. "You'll see why it's so important soon!"

"Just who, exactly, are we...seancing?" Lisanna, once more, looked to her boyfriend. "Bickslow?"

"Conjuring," he corrected.

"Is it really conjuring though?" Mira put a finger to her lips. "Or is manifesting?"

"The spirit manifests," Freed corrected. "We're summoning."

"Does that involve possession or not?" Evergreen was, once more, finding another reason to back out of their misadventure. "Because if so, spirit or whatever you are, wherever you are, I am not to be entered."

Bickslow, eyes alight, only replied, "Sorry about that then, Elfman."

"What does that even mean?" Elfman roared, recognizing teasing when it was thrown his way. "You're no man!"

"That would be relevant, maybe," Freed sighed, "in any other conversation."

"Who are we summoning, Bickslow?" Laxus impatience was only growing. And if Mirajane tugged at his cheek one more time, it might just bubble over into pure aggravation. "And what's it gotta do with Lisanna?"

"Oi, boss, I's getting to that."

"Then get to it."

"Right." Making a fist then, he rubbed his knuckles against his chest before turning to face his girlfriend. "Ahem. Lissy, as you know, I'm a man of many talents."

With her eyes staring straight into his, she nodded her head. "Many."

"I mean, I'm a great lover."

"The best."

"I'm super funny."

"Super duper."

"I make great burritos."

"The greatest."

"I-"

"Get," Laxus growled then as Mirajane didn't even try to corral him (she was growing weary of their antics as well), "to the point."

"Right, right, boss, sure." That time, the seith nodded. Then, with absolutely no build up or lead in, he said quite frankly, "I'm going to summon your dead parents from the grave."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, a huffed, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

But it didn't come from the most likely of culprits. Laxus was busy staring down at Mirajane, trying to judge if she knew this was coming while the demon, who had not, only sat there silently, staring with wide eyes. Evergreen was shocked into silence (plus her love of all things traumatic, if it had to do with others, had more than kicked in). Her boyfriend was much the same, not sure just how to act in such a situation.

Rather, it was Freed who spoke, taking steps away from the fire and over towards his teammate, that deeply disappointed look he had at times like when Laxus blew them off or the seith or Evergreen neglected to do a certain task.

"Why would you even joke about something like that?" the rune mage was asking then. "That's terrible, Bickslow. You're terrible."

"It wasn't a joke, man!" Defensive now as his surprise that he'd thought so log and hard about was being turned into some sort of indictment on his character. "I'm gonna do it. I'mma summon their dead parents."

"Stop," Laxus finally sighed when it became clear his girlfriend did not know about this portion of things, "saying that, Bickslow."

"Why? It's what I'm going to do." Though usually one to cave to his idol, he did not when it came to matters of the heart. "I'm going to summon Mrs. and Mr. Strauss and they're gonna give Lissy the go ahead to marry me and you can all just suck it."

Now with an extra shock causing a hush to fall upon most the group, only Mirajane clapped her hands.

"Now, I knew the proposal part," she spilled to Laxus with a grin before sparing one at her still silent sister across the clearing. "I was so excited! What's more romantic than this?"

"Asking someone other than the woman for permission to do something with her?" Freed turned his eyes to the woman, but it wasn't disappointment he had in them, not even surprise; just exhaustion. "Mira? Do you know what year this is?"

"Mmmm, whatever year Laxus turns fifty?"

The slayer about fell over. "M-Mirajane!"

"Sorry, dragon." Again, she clapped her hands. "I'm just so giddy, I couldn't help myself! Ooh, Bickslow, do you really think you can do it though? Summon our parents? Oooh, now I'm even more excited."

"You are?" Ever raised her eyebrows. "Honestly?"

Nodding, she said, "Would you not be?"

"My parents aren't dead. That I know of."

And that hadn't meant to slip from Ever's mouth, but it had and it too made the already surpassing gauche situation nearly unbearable. After a moment, Bickslow spoke, but only to his girlfriend.

"Jeez, Ever, bring down the room more, why don't you?"

But that time, instead of grinning along, Lisanna only asked, "Can you really, Bickslow?"

"Bring the room down more? Sure. When I was a kid, I once watched another kid cut off a dog's tail and throw it back in the dog's face!"

"I'm done. I'm just don't." Laxus was starting to get up. "Lisanna, you're not allowed to marry or date him anymore. Come on. You can help me check on, Gramps."

"Bickslow," the young woman in question was saying as her sister tugged the slayer back down to the ground, "summon our parents, is what I meant. Can you seriously do that? Can you make it to where I can talk to my mom and dad?"

"Lisanna," Freed tried, but the seith spoke before he could finish.

"Of course." And there wasn't an ounce of wavering in his tone. "Would I say something so outlandish I I couldn't?"

Yes. Of course he would. He did constantly. A day didn't go by that he didn't say complete absurdity seemingly only for the purpose of annoying somebody else.

But would he be that cruel to his own girlfriend?

Yeah, Freed was leaning towards definitely, but what could you do?

"Then...if you guys are okay with it," Lisanna began as she looked around the clearing at her two siblings, "I'd like for you to do so."

"Yes! Oh gosh, yes! How great is this? Laxus never does anything like this for me," Mirajane gushed.

"Emotionally manipulate you by holding the deaths of your parents and my ability to connect with them from beyond the grave hostage?" Snorting, the man said, "Yeah, I've never done that."

"See?" Mira said with a shake of her head, as if disappointed.

"Elf?" Lisanna looked his way then. "Are you...okay with this?"

Evergreen was hoping no. In a twisted way, she was hoping no, but for him to say yes, because that would add even more fuel to the ever-burning fire that was their lives and would no doubt blow up soon enough.

This wasn't to say that a deep part of her wasn't concerned over the big oaf.

Because she was.

This was some heavy shit, assuming Bickslow could pull it off (and that was a big if).

But…

There was something wrong in Evergreen, there always had been, that just didn't care. Not when her own benefit (which was as little as a mere dramatic fight playing out before her) was on the line.

"If you really want him to, what kinda man would I be to deny you?" the man finally conceded.

Perhaps a smart one as, even as Bickslow solemnly received Lisanna's nod and replied with one of his own, Freed knew that something was up. He wasn't sure what, but he knew it had to be something.

And Happy, hidden away in the bushes, would make certain it was.

[sapropel]

Some Thoughts on the Structure of Discourse  (and Why It's Faulty)

Hi guys! I’m sure a lot of you have noticed, but the discourse has turned to shit. I wanted to provide some thoughts on the topic, but it’s some stuff I’ve been meaning to stay for awhile. If you’re worried about the current state of the discourse, I encourage you to read this.

Also this took me three hours to write and I’m mentally ill as hell so please validate my questionable decision to write all this out lol

There are many reasons that Tumblr discourse has gotten so toxic. For one, when you put a bunch of teenagers in a high stress environment, especially mentally ill teenagers and teenagers who are survivors of abuse and trauma, it's a breeding ground both for toxicity and for pain. Because social justice/discourse Tumblr attracts users with rough backgrounds or marginalized identities, it's easy to band together against and bond over common oppressors. These things can cause several issues.

Tumblr has a terrible habit of weaponizing identities. By that I mean discoursers will use their marginalized identities to win arguments without providing other evidence or good arguments.

Take the following argument for example:

Q: Is the word “homosexual” problematic when talking about gay men?

Gay man 1: “Yes, it is.”

Gay man 2: “No, it isn't!”

Okay, so now what do you do? You're used to believing people based solely off of their identities, but what happens when they disagree?

The issue with holding marginalized people as experts in nuanced issues is that marginalized identities are NOT monolithic. People can be prejudiced, bigoted, rude, or purposefully deceitful regardless of identity. People can also be extremely kind and intelligent with different backgrounds and lived experience, with some ignorance and mistakes, with personal preferences. Obviously, if you hear overwhelmingly that something is problematic from that group of people (e.g, is it okay to misgender trans people, the answer being no), then you should take care to listen and take them at their word. Some arguments are more complicated and require deeper analysis, so let's return to the argument before.

Q: Is the word “homosexual” problematic when talking about gay men?

Gay Man 1: “Yes, it is. It recalls the medicalization of gay men and our subsequent mistreatment and dehumanization. With the split attraction model, the word also has a new meaning, so it can be confusing in conversations. Many gay men consider the word to be a slur and don't want to hear it.”

Gay Man 2: “No, it isn't! As a gay man, ‘gay’ has become an umbrella term for anyone who experiences same-gender attraction. If we don’t use that word, how will people be able to talk about us, and how will we be able to talk about ourselves? Because of some events in my life, I'm uncomfortable with other people calling me ‘gay’ but I've never been uncomfortable with ‘homosexual.’ “

Okay, so you heard an argument this time. So, what's the right answer? Isn't that what is important?

It's not that simple. One issue with discourse on Tumblr is its inability to handle nuance. Who GETS to decide what's right? Sure, we can figure out bits and pieces. For example, you should know it's inappropriate to call the first man a homosexual because he's said it makes him uncomfortable. We know we shouldn't make the second man accept the label “gay” if it hurts him.

So again, who's right?

I can't tell you that. I could only ever tell you my opinion. I can tell you that for me, personally, I like to err on the side of caution.

Tumblr is unwilling to treat issues as living, changing, perhaps unanswerable entities. The need to have a black and white answer on everything is alienating people and making discourse a fruitless endeavour. Instead of fighting to prove why we’re right, or fighting to get an answer, we should be working together towards a common goal of educating each other and ourselves and allowing ourselves to be compassionate and imperfect creatures.

How do we educate each other? I promise that treating people with innocent, if misguided, questions isn't it. We have to let people be curious and make mistakes and know that we won't demonize them for dissent or for messing up. I believe that open, honest, and genuine discourse will naturally teach well.

Again, I would like to stress that there is a difference between situational ignorance and a person consistently unwilling to better themself.

The weaponization of identity isn't the only issue with some of the language of our discourse. I also want to talk about the difference between systematic oppression and discrimination and how Tumblr handles it.

With marginalized identities, there is very often oppression. This word gets thrown around a lot, especially with respect to ace discourse. So what does it mean?

Systematic oppression is the institutional or legislative and almost always cultural manifestation of disenfranchisement coupled with a power dynamic that inhibits social mobility.

Some examples of people who are systematically oppressed (at least in America, but due to imperialism and the like, the effects are usually global) are black people, women, and people who experience same-gender attraction. I'm going to talk about the experience of systematic oppression vs discrimination for the third case, just a little bit. Obviously, these issues are extremely complex and I won't be able to explain every facet, but I can give a rough sketch.

For the sakes of simplicity and consistency, I would like to talk about two groups of people: gay men and bisexual men. Both groups of people experience same-gender attraction, and both are oppressed under homophobia.

Hold on, did OP just say that bi people are oppressed under homophobia? WHAT ABOUT BIPHOBIA???

Okay! This is a common misconception on Tumblr. Homophobia is systematic because it is legal, institutional, very cultural, and involves a power imbalance between those who experience SGA and those who do not.

Biphobia is NOT a form of systematic oppression, and I'm happy to explain why in another post, but not here. This is already too long.

Does that mean that gay men can't discriminate against bi men? No.

Does THAT mean that bi men can't discriminate against gay men? No.

Any aggression that occurs between two people who are oppressed under the same systematic force can be classified as “lateral aggression.” Lateral aggression is damaging, insidious, pointless, and divisive.

There are cultural components that privilege bi men over gay men, and there are cultural components that privilege gay men over bi men, but in society, there is no power imbalance between the two.

Bi men can be extremely homophobic to gay men, and gay men can be extremely biphobic to gay men, BOTH to the point where it could ruin someone’s life.

I said all of this to lead up to my very important point: the validation of discrimination.

I've been on Tumblr for 4 years, and in my opinion, Tumblr mainly cares about oppressed identities or notions that can be wrapped up nicely in little bows.

But I want to make very, very clear that having more marginalized identities than another person does not make you better, smarter, more correct, or mean their struggles are more valid than yours.

Some of the worst things that have happened in my life are because of things that don’t get me ~Internet points,~ like the fact I was raised in a Mormon household, the fact I'm not conventionally attractive, the fact I grew up in a conservative area.

The discrimination and heartache I have faced for things like these are arguably worse, or at least comparable, to the discrimination I've faced for being a gay man.

I feel that a lot of what's wrong with discourse is that people feel like if their heartache doesn't come from being systematically oppressed or from trauma/abuse, then it's not equal or that it's not valid. This is ABSOLUTELY false.

If we are going to be successful discoursers and make progress and better ourselves, we have to let go of our strange fetishization of identity. We have to stop the idea that there is any cohesive, monolithic experience or perspective from any group of people. We have to validate discrimination and the effect it has on people.

Failing to do this alienates people and makes it harder for all of us to become knowledgeable and kind.

We HAVE to kill the idea that someone making a mistake or holding a mildly problematic belief makes them irredeemable. We HAVE to treat arguments as individual and not necessarily as mindless parts of a larger whole. We HAVE to accept that we are imperfect, dynamic, and human. We are not arbiters of judgment or masters of morality. We are a group of people who have come together with the common goals of building community and working to better the experiences of disadvantaged people.

I recognize the need to be wary of patterns and harmful rhetoric, and I understand (and condone) retaliation against oppressors and unnecessary cruelty. This post is NOT here to excuse repugnant behavior and beliefs.

We have to treat each person we come across in the discourse not as the sum (or worse, the poster child) of their identities, experiences, and beliefs, but rather as intersectionally gestalt, multi-faceted, capable of compassion and love, imperfect, and with a boundless potential to improve themself.

It's easy to start a witch hunt on someone who made a poorly worded post or who made a mistake, and sometimes such an extreme reaction is justifiable, even necessary. But again, think about why--is it the allure of seeming more enlightened? Is it blindly following someone you admire? Is it out of spite and cruelty? Is it because you want to win? Or is it out of a genuine desire to keep people safe and to help others learn?

I understand that we are imperfect and sometimes hedonistic or primal in our intentions, and I know that perfection is impossible. I know for a fact I am guilty of many of the shortcomings I highlighted in this post.

Good discoursers have to know that being incorrect is inevitable. There is no such thing as perfect discourse, and mistakes should be expected. The discourser who sees themself as infallible is the discourser to be wary of.

We aren’t machines. We’re people.

[mintothemax]

stop telling me how to feel about jackson wang

people, anonymous & otherwise, keep telling me to drop got7, which is the group i follow most closely now atm. i’m not denying or ignoring past or present shitty behavior. i’m not interested in being a blind fan, which is why i’m writing this post. but you telling me to hate someone, or suggesting that i think of them as “human trash,” that’s not something i can get behind, and i have reasons that run deeper than “oh that’s mean/rude and it goes against my principles.” 

tbh when i read jackson’s “LOL thats ridiculous...” response my cringing could not be contained. speaking as someone who grew up in america that was very hard to read. but that’s the thing, i’m american. people who wear dreads, meaning black people, are a minority in america, and a stigmatized minority because of our history of slavery. that’s the main reason why cultural appropriation is such a significant thing in the U.S., and not necessarily so in more homogeneous countries. like if a white person wears a bindi or sari in india, where i’m from, no one’s going to bat an eye. monsta x’s hyungwon wore a headscarf when he was in abu dhabi and no one CARES, because it’s assumed that it’s worn as a sign of respect and not as a way to misuse or mock someone’s culture.

this understanding of black cultural appropriation...this concept...is not going to come easily to someone like jackson, who is from hong kong and lives in korea, both places where the black population is basically nil and there is no underlying background of black slavery. it’s easy for anyone at all to see how blackface is mocking/offensive (it’s LITERALLY worn like a gag mask) and i’m glad he acknowledged that, even if i don’t think he fully understood the severity. but i think it’s harder and less intuitive to understand that about dreads. when we see jackson with dreads we’re thinking, who is this poser who acts like he’s black when he has no idea what it’s like to struggle like black people do and will NEVER know. he’s thinking: wow black people are cool and if i wear dreads i’ll be cool like them. in his eyes he’s getting slammed for intentions that weren’t bad. and i can see that they weren’t bad, though that’s not enough to excuse his actions, especially considering this isn’t the first time.

but IT IS NOT THAT FUCKING EASY TO GET WOKE. ffs stop saying dumbass shit like “why doesn’t he know?? why is he ignorant???? his followers explained, and the internet exists.” holy fuck, this is ACTUALLY ridiculous. as a new fan of got7 i’m trying to dig up all the info i can on jb’s homophobic comments and mark’s friends and let me tell you it’s fucking hard! everyone has a different opinion and it’s almost impossible to tell what is true and what isn’t, especially because i’m operating across cultural boundaries!!!! and the same is true of jackson wang. if you look at the comments on that insta post it is insanity, no one agrees, very few ppl bother with explanations at all, it’s impossible to get a read of what the consensus is. you can’t expect anyone to learn anything from that. if it were so damn easy to learn from the internet, then every thirsty koreaboo would have figured out what it’s like to live in korea and learned every last drop of korean culture. except....you can’t fucking do that. until you live in a place you won’t understand its cultural nuances, and JW getting this VERY nuanced aspect of american culture/expectations is not going to just happen. i know i definitely didn’t understand cultural appropriation the first time i heard about it.

i am not saying that it is unreasonable to be upset over this instance of cultural appropriation. your feelings and reactions are not ridiculous. but your expectations might be unrealistic. americans criticize kpop idols all the time for always bowing to their fans’ demands and giving them whatever they want--well, tbh, jackson doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong, so rn he’s refusing to blindly apologize for something he sees as unnecessary, and it isn’t hard to see that. no one is obligated to forgive him or like him. it is a slow process to learn cultural awareness, and it is tiring and painful to stay with someone that keeps making the kind of mistakes that hurt you. but though it’s true that he lacks knowledge and empathy for black people and culture, a lot of people are also lacking empathy for his background and upbringing in exactly the same way. do not tag #badcharacterdevelopment when you talk about him. this isn’t about his character. he doesn’t have to learn how to be a good person, he has to learn about cultural disparities. this is a mistake, not a crime.

lastly! the big issue here is the whole “that’s ridiculous” remark. i think we all agree that you can’t tell ppl how to feel, you can’t dismiss their reactions like that just cause you’re under pressure. so, my turn. quit telling me that i HAVE to hate jackson wang and that i should think of him the same way i think of gum on the bottom of my shoe. i understand if you don’t like him, but if i want to err on his side, if i want to hope that he’ll grow from this and be a better/more aware person, do not! give me shit for it!!! i’m not stupid, indifferent, dumb, or fanatical, so stop going out of your way to send me rude messages.

[megarowlet]

Think Me Beautiful

A Yuri!!! on Ice Fanfiction

Pairing: Viktuuri Summary: Some people's words give them a hint as to who their soulmate is. Some can tell just based on the timing of the words' appearance on their skin. Viktor's soulmate could be anyone around the world who watched his winning Junior World Championships skate broadcast when he was 16. And over a decade later, he still has no idea who they could be. Read at: ffnet / AO3

AU where words appear on your arm saying the first thing your soulmate thinks about you when they see you for the first time. I added a mechanic where the words naturally fade over time but continue to respond to touch: appearing when the owner touches the skin there, disappearing when the soulmate touches it. Because Plot Device™ and also because people like me would never wear short sleeves again if the words were always visible. 

Original Prompt

Translated into Chinese

Viktor was 16 when he received his words. The thrill of competition made him not realize it for a while, but as he got changed out of his costume after winning gold at the Junior World Championships, he noticed a slight itchy feeling on his left arm and found his skin marked by a line of words written neatly in his own handwriting: "Wow, he's amazing. Beautiful." The thoughts of his soulmate seeing him for the first time, written on the soft skin of his forearm.

Viktor didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Finally, he had a soulmate, but that soulmate could be any of millions of skating fans around the world who'd watched his performance. Others' words often served as clues so they could find each other; of course Viktor wouldn't be so lucky.

So he decided to keep the words hidden. Words naturally faded with time, only reappearing when one passed their hand over them, the touch revealing the markings. So Viktor just never touched that part of his arm. Not in his choreography, not for curious reporters, not even in front of inquiring rinkmates. His soulmate could be anyone, so Viktor showed his words to no one.

As he got older, the media speculated. Viktor, have you received your words? Viktor, is there a reason you're hiding your soulmate? Viktor, is the reason you refuse to reveal your words because you don't have a soulmate? Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

He ignored all of them with a wink and a smile. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I prefer to keep that my own business. It's much more fun that way, isn't it?"

He kept his fans close, flirting indiscriminately. His soulmate would be able to find him, he figured. Surely, they'd come find him. If he interacted with everyone who approached him, aggressively thinking his name at them, eventually one of them was bound to be his soulmate. Right?

A decade passed.

Viktor threw himself into skating to stave off the loneliness. But he was getting old for a competitive figure skater, and no matter how many gold medals he won or how many fans he greeted, he couldn't find his soulmate. Some had approached him, sure, but in the end it was obvious their words were the thoughts of someone who wasn't Viktor.

"I'm thinking of retiring after this season," he told Yakov during warmups before the Grand Prix Finals one year.

Yakov shot him a sharp glare. "You're skating the short program in a little while; keep your mind on your program."

Viktor took a long swig of water and handed the bottle back to Yakov. "I can multitask, you know."

"No you can't. Hurry and finish warming up. And don't think about useless things. We can talk about it once the finals are over."

"Yes, yes," Viktor said, heading back out to the rink. He ran through part of his step sequence, jumped a clean triple loop. He felt the cameras following him, knowing that his every movement, every nuance of his facial expression was being analyzed by announcers around the world. He was, after all, Viktor Nikiforov. And Viktor always put on the perfect show.

A loud yelp came from the wall, and Viktor turned to see one of his competitors land on his butt, his coach on the other side of the wall clearly surprised. The same skater had done a gorgeous step sequence only moments ago while Viktor was taking a drink, and Viktor trained his eye on the skater's jacket to try and recognize who they were. It was his first time seeing a Japanese skater at the Grand Prix in several years. The country had sort of fallen off Viktor's radar for a bit, but he might have to start paying attention again. Good for Japan.

The Japanese skater's coach seemed to be Celestino, who was fussing over him in English. "Yuuri, what happened? Why did you suddenly— Wait, did you just get your words?!"

Now that got the attention of everyone on the rink. The entire group of skaters stopped and turned to stare. Murmurs echoed among the audience who peered curiously to see what was happening on the ice.

Viktor felt a vague pang near his heart as he remembered his own words. Hopefully this skater would be more lucky than Viktor was, though he really didn't envy the way the skater's words appeared so publicly. Viktor was sort of glad it had taken him so long to notice his own; the attention he'd have gotten if such vague words were shown publicly was something he'd worked hard to avoid.

"Congratulations, Yuuri!" Chris called from behind Viktor. Viktor looked at him as he skated by.

"You know him?" he asked.

Chris stopped and turned. "Yeah, Yuuri Katsuki, the top skater from Japan. Really, Viktor, there's a limit to how ignorant you can be of your own competition. A privilege of being the best, I suppose."

"My attentions have been elsewhere his season," Viktor admitted. He'd been absorbed in his own loneliness and self-pity lately as his age crept up on him. It was pathetic, he knew, but so long as he kept winning gold it didn't matter what he spent his free time doing. If he spent his time moping around in his apartment alone with Makkachin, then so be it.

Back with Katsuki, it seemed he'd gotten over his shock somewhat and was talking to the others gathered around him. The auditorium was buzzing with excitement, but a hush came over the crowd as everyone's ears strained to hear the words this skater had received on live television before an international competition.

At the prodding of his coach and the other skaters, in careful English, he read them aloud, face burning: "Haven't seen him around before. Nice step sequence. He's beautiful."

Viktor's heart dropped to his stomach. No. No way. Right? There was no way. Sure, he'd noticed Katsuki a few minutes ago while observing his competitors' warmups and thought pretty much the same thing, but those words could've been thought by anyone. It wasn't him. He wouldn't get his hopes up.

Beside him, he could hear Chris trying to talk to him, but he didn't register a single word. His eyes could only see Yuuri Katsuki. His ears could only hear Katsuki's frantic stuttering about how those words could've been anyone, it didn't mean anything.

"Viktor, so you did get your words," Chris said, and Viktor realized he'd pulled up his jacket sleeve and had been been absently rubbing at his forearm. The words were clearly visible thanks to that, the Russian much neater now that Viktor was older and his handwriting more legible, but otherwise exactly the same.

"Ah, I…yeah. Many, many years ago," Viktor said.

"What's it say? You've always been so secretive about it."

"It says that I'm amazing. And beautiful."

Chris whistled. "High praise."

"I noticed it after my Junior World Championships win. It could be anyone who watched the Championships, so I didn't want to talk about it publicly."

"Knowing how some of your fans are, not a bad idea. Why'd you show them now? You know some fan with a camera already has closeups. Feeling more open about it now that Yuuri got his like this?"

"No, I just…" Viktor frowned, not wanting to voice that traitorous hope squirming in his stomach. Yes, he was secretly hoping his soulmate was a man, but that didn't mean he had to pin his hopes on the first guy whose words seemed remotely plausible as having come from Viktor. It was mostly women who approached him, so he was getting a little overexcited. That was all.

Meanwhile, Chris seemed to be piecing together the reason for Viktor's distracted state. "Viktor, don't tell me you…"

"Don't get my hopes up," Viktor snapped, turning to Chris angrily. "Please."

Chris just grinned, a slow smile that crept across his face. "Holy shit. Holy fucking shit."

"Chris, just because it's similar to what I thought…I mean, it's not possible, it's been a decade, I don't think—"

"Viktor, oh my god."

"Viktor got his, too? Today's warmups are just full of surprises," JJ said, skating over and peering curiously at Viktor's arm.

"A long time ago," Viktor said hurriedly, hiding them under his sleeve. "They're really old."

"JJ, you've talked to Yuuri before, right? Didn't he become a fan of Viktor after the Junior World Championships?" Chris said.

JJ shrugged. "I wouldn't know. We're not close."

"Chris, that doesn't mean anything."

"But it might. Yuuri's words are what you thought about him, right?"

"Chris…"

"Hey, Yuuri!"

Viktor let out a long sigh. He was really hoping to keep the whole soulmate issue private until he'd sorted it out himself. So much for that.

Viktor watched as Chris sidled up to Katsuki, whispering things into his ear. Katsuki protested vehemently, but Chris's pushiness won in the end, and soon Katsuki was being propelled toward Viktor as the whole auditorium and probably the entire skating community worldwide watched with increasing fervor.

Chris was grinning ear to ear. "Viktor, meet your #1 fan. Became a world-class figure skater chasing you. Isn't that right, Yuuri?"

"Chris!" Katsuki protested. He turned to Viktor, face flushed and panicked. "I'm Katsuki Yuuri. Err, Yuuri Katsuki. You inspired me a lot growing up, so I'm a fan. It's really so nice to meet you."

Viktor's eyes landed on the Japanese writing on Katsuki's arm. When Katsuki noticed Viktor staring, he subtly turned his arm to hide it.

"Chris, what you're saying is impossible," Katsuki muttered, gripping his left arm tightly.

"You never know until you try, right? Viktor over here seemed pretty shaken when you read your words aloud."

"Viktor doesn't have his words, though," Katsuki protested. He looked cautiously at Viktor. "…right?"

His heart pounding, Viktor pulled his track suit sleeve back up, revealing the words he'd rubbed into visibility only a minute ago. "They appeared the day of my Junior World Championship win. It says I'm amazing and beautiful. It could've been anybody."

Viktor didn't miss the way Katsuki's expression shifted. "Chris, he's right. That could've been anyone. I don't even remember what I thought back then, only that he was—" He stopped himself. "Anyway, it could've been anyone, not just me!"

"But it also could've been you," Chris said. "And Viktor here," Chris pointed at Viktor, "seems to have noticed you for the first time by watching your step sequence just now. Why he didn't know who you were until today is another issue entirely, but if those words on your arm are exactly the same as his thoughts upon seeing you for the first time, it's worth a try, right?"

"You're trying way too hard to play matchmaker, Chris," JJ said. "Let them figure it out themselves."

"What? Apparently Viktor's been keeping his words secret for over a decade, so he's not going to make the first move, and I know Yuuri well enough not to trust him to take initiative either. I'm just helping two friends out."

"Thanks, Chris, but I really don't think it's necessary," Katsuki said quietly. He looked up at Viktor with wide, sad, yet hopeful eyes. Viktor's pulse quickened. If it were anyone else, Viktor would have thought him ordinary, but for some reason this man was almost too attractive for Viktor to handle. Maybe it was just Chris's words getting to him, but he felt drawn to the skater in front of him. But it couldn't be, right?

Slowly, Viktor readjusted his sleeve, pushing it the rest of the way past his elbow so it stayed clear of his words, and held out his left arm as if offering a handshake. Since it had come to this, might as well make the leap.

"Want to try?"

Katsuki's eyes widened. He scrambled to push his own sleeve back. "S-sure," he said, voice shaking.

Viktor's heart pounded in his ears as he and Katsuki gripped each other's arms below the elbow and slowly pulled back, sliding their hands down to the wrist.

"No fucking way," JJ whispered.

Viktor felt tears start to fall.

Yuuri's touch had wiped away the words on Viktor's arm, as Viktor's had for Yuuri's.

"Viktor…" Yuuri mumbled, staring in awe at their bare arms. He grabbed Viktor's hands and forced him to reveal his words again. Then Yuuri's own hand wiped them away. Again and again.

"Congrats, Viktor, Yuuri," Chris said, self-satisfied grin on his face. "Looks like you two found your soulmates."

"Yuuri!" Viktor cried, leaping at Yuuri and throwing his arms around him. "Why did you never approach me? Why did I never see you? I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I'm so sorry."

"Viktor…" Yuuri's hands hesitantly patted Viktor's back.

"This is so great. I'm so glad. I finally found you. I finally found you." He squeezed Yuuri tightly, then pushed back to look into his eyes. "I'm not going to go easy on you today just because we're soulmates, though."

"I-I wasn't expecting you to," Yuuri said, surprised. He smiled. "I won't go easy on you, either," he said.

Viktor beamed. "That's my Yuuri!"

Chris thumped Yuuri on the back, and he stumbled into Viktor's arms. "Neither will I. You're up first, aren't you, Yuuri? Warmups are basically over, so I hope you're ready."

"Oh god," Yuuri whispered, reality setting in quickly. During all this excitement, the clock had been ticking.

Viktor pulled him into a tight hug. "I believe in you, Yuuri. I haven't paid much attention to my competitors recently, I'll admit, but your skating earlier caught my eye more than anyone else here."

"That's just because we're s…soulmates," Yuuri said.

Viktor frowned. "Hmm, I wonder."

"Viktor!" It was Yakov. "Viktor, get off the ice! I don't care what happened with your words, I expect you to be focused and win today. Got it? Warmups are over, get over here!"

Viktor released Yuuri. "My coach is calling me. Good luck, Yuuri."

Yuuri nodded, still seeming a little shell-shocked by the turn of events. "Yeah. Thanks. Uh, you too."

Viktor beamed brilliantly.

"Vitya!"

"Oops! See you on the podium, okay?" He winked, relishing in the way Yuuri blushed. Honestly, he should've watched broadcasts of the other competitions instead of being so absorbed in his own mind. Just because he'd never skated on the same ice as Yuuri before didn't give him an excuse to have never noticed this adorably handsome man. All these years, he'd been missing out on so much!

"Viktor!" Yuuri's voice called out behind him, and he turned with a smile. Yuuri had composed his expression, a fierce determination in his eyes. Viktor's heart skipped a beat. Oh. "Please watch me," Yuuri said. Then he'd turned and headed back to his coach for some last words before his turn on the ice.

Viktor watched after him a moment before finally heeding Yakov's increasingly irritated shouts. He'd been distancing himself from his competitors recently, caught up in his own mind, but now that Yuuri had drawn his attention, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look away.

He looked at the words on his arm, simple compliments he'd spent many hours staring at over the years, now filled with new meaning. He pressed his lips to his forearm, ignoring Yakov's lecturing at his side.

"Nice to meet you, Yuuri," he murmured. "Yakov?"

Yakov paused his lecture to give Viktor a stern glare. "What?"

"Put my retirement discussion on hold for now," Viktor said. He put a finger to his lips and grinned. "I might have another year in me after all."

Yakov fumed. "Oy, Viktor, you can't just…Viktor, are you listening?"

Katsuki Yuuri. His soulmate. His soulmate. He had a soulmate.

This skating season was going to be a good one.