#hes had no need to get to know them and the trolls have no reason to bug him either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dadsbongos · 3 months

Text

my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow

5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)

summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.

~~~

“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”

Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.

Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.

The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.

“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”

“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.

Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”

Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”

“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.

“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.

“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”

“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.

“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.

“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.

Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”

“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”

“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”

“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”

“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.

“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”

“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.

“...no.”

He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”

“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”

“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.

“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”

“Uh-huh… and that is?”

“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”

“No!” you gasp, dramatically.

“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”

“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”

“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.

Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”

“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”

“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”

As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”

“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”

“I just kissed you, greedy.”

His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.

You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.

“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”

“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”

“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”

Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.

Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.

“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.

“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”

“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”

“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”

“And you know that how…?”

“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”

His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.

You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”

Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.

One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.

‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’

He knows this means more.

“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”

You two never had a dog, though.

Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.

Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.

Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”

“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.

For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.

All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.

“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.

The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.

He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”

“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”

‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.

“Would you tell me if you died?”

“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.

You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,

“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”

He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”

“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”

“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”

“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.

Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.

You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.

…

“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”

Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.

“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”

“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”

The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.

The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.

Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.

Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.

“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.

“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.

(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)

“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”

You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,

“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”

Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”

“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”

“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.

“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”

“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”

Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.

But at least you’re a good mom.

Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.

Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.

On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.

Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.

Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.

That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.

(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)

…

Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.

“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”

Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”

“Dad.”

That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”

“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”

“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.

With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.

“What? Came to show off?”

Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”

Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”

“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”

She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”

“About what, Chilchuck?”

His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”

“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”

“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”

As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.

“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”

He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.

(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)

This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.

“She’s not coming into my home.”

Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”

“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”

He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”

“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.

Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!

“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”

“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.

“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.

“I know you can, but let me be nice.”

“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”

A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”

“Right.”

Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.

And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.

“So, what was she doing there?”

“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”

“Pretty against your usual tough front.”

“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”

“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”

“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”

Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.

“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”

You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.

“Do you have any idea why I left?”

“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”

“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”

His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.

“Chil…”

You revert to his first name.

“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”

It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.

“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”

“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”

“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”

“When?”

“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”

“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”

His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”

“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”

“She never told me that.”

“I told her not to.”

Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”

“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”

So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.

And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.

“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”

“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”

“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”

“Right.”

“But- !”

“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”

“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.

He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.

It might be.

“What now?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he replies.

Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)

“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.

This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.

“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”

“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”

“You really want that answer?”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”

“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”

“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”

“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”

“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

Oh!

You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”

“Not even a little. Why would I be?”

“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”

Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?

Yes.

Does he still plan to?

Yes.

…

“You have a wife?”

“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”

Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”

Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”

“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”

“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”

~~~

+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck angst #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #from.me.to.queue.🍅

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dingodad · 2 months

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please god i need to know what U think of the whole “jadebloods are all female!” thing because i got into homestuck in 2019 around the time of friendsim and (retching) Lanque so i always assumed they were explicitly intended to be an all-female caste. however, re-reading the comic this year, i couldnt find a mention of it other than virgo and the Space aspect being really feminine, but i think kanayas journey with motherhood is more kanaya-centric than All-Jadebloods centric??

on one hand, it makes sense given that alternia has very real gendered oppression, so what’s better for that than CATHOLICISM?? on the other hand, i always saw kanaya as being transfem coded, because it connects so well with roxy yknow.. homestuck fans love to insist that certain characters just have to be cis women (kanaya, jade, roxy)

(as an aside; was “long hair was butch on alternia” a one off joke? i like speculation about alternia’s fashion opposing earth, lol)

most all of our basis for explicitly gendered interpretation of Alternia comes from act 6 intermission 3, where Aranea tells us that "jade 8loods were also an almost exclusively female caste". so the door has always been open for there to be "some male jadebloods". but it's a mistake to view this as having anything to do with any kind of "biological sex". the whole idea of biological sex among trolls is a smoke screen. the jadebloods' assigned gender at birth is "jadeblood". this is what makes them a feminised caste.

Caliborn doesn't have a clue what biological sex is. Aranea will tell you that there are boy cherubs and girl cherubs, but for your own sanity you need to cast this idea out of your mind: cherub sex takes place between good and evil cherubs - which is determined by their blood - and anything else is just roleplay. Caliborn's attitude toward sexing is that the ones he likes are boys - that's all the thought that goes into it. and that's the mindset we need to be aware of when we delve into understanding troll gender. there are some trolls who have breast tissue and some who don't, but they aren't "mammaries" in any sense, so there's no reason to believe they're actually sexual characteristics of any kind; maybe this is what Lord English chose to base his gender schema on, but the idea that this means there must be "male trolls" and "female trolls" is completely imagined for the narrative convenience of the human reader.

when we read that there are "male-dominated" highblood castes and therefore by implication female-populated lowblood castes, it's not by some coincidence of biology: the highblood castes are male-dominated BECAUSE they are highblood castes. each caste has a role to play in Caliborn's Alternia, and just as the highblooded roles are those of patriarchal domination, the lower castes must take on roles of feminised submission; and in the case of the jades in particular, this means breeding duties. the fact that this also comes with the expectation to wear makeup and pretty clothes is just more roleplay.

so tl;dr what i think of "the all jadebloods are female thing" is that it is very obviously true but in a way more 5 dimensional gender studies way than anyone else tends to mean when they say it

my pet "long hair was butch on alternia" headcanon - which is a joke but in the way all headcanons about alternia should be jokes of some kind - actually kind of relates to this lol. bc i figure that if gendered expectations of female trolls includes working in disgusting underground caverns filled with genetic material, it's going to be practical to keep your hair close to your head where it won't get dirty, in much the same way the feminist image of the short-haired woman became popular in the west during and after world war 2, wherein a lot of women had to start wearing their hair close to their heads to avoid scalping themselves in the factory machinery they suddenly had to start working with. hence kanaya dedicated to her assigned feminine role and wearing her hair short vs. porrim rebelling against it for feminist reasons and thus wearing her hair at a length that would be totally impractical for wading through gene pools.

#i had someone get mad at me once for saying this bc it implied vriska was butch or whatever.#which idgaf about. any further interpretations you make about the other girl trolls based on this are out of my hands #anyway i wont apologise for making this so long bc im sure at this point it's what you all want out of me when you ask this stuff LOL #homestuck #for tha record. i have written articles about each caste on the mspa wiki. all my sources r there you dont ALWAYS need to do your own rsrch

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hufflefluff-stuff · 1 year

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hi! i was wondering if you could write how HL characters would act when they are jealous

Yes! Also, I'll add how these characters wind up confessing to their crush! 👍

Characters: Sebastian, Garreth, Ominis, Poppy, & Leander

......

Sebastian Sallow

Let's be fr..this guy gets jealous INSANELY easily in canon, even when platonically speaking.

It's hard to pinpoint where he exactly started catching feelings for you, but he certainly fell for you fast after your adventure into the library's restricted section.

Unfortunately, because of your growing reputation as a "hero" around Hogwarts, Hogsmede, and other hamlets...you've have strangers and students alike often come up to you and interrupt your conversations with Sebastian.

They mean well, only showing up to compliment you or thank you for some favor you've done for them.

But still it puts him in an sour mood, especially if he's unable to do anything about it without coming off as a prissy Slytherin.

During classes, he feels 10x worse if he's not partnered with you and instead sees you with classmates he views as "competition"...like Garreth, Leander, or even Amit, scowling at them in envy and unable to focus unless the professor specifically calls him out on it.

The only exception is Ominis, since he's a trusted friend and damn well knew his crush on you (he has certainly used this as blackmail to stop him from doing stupid stuff) but Sebastian will still huff about how "close" you two are growing.

Sometimes his jealousy gets so bad he needs to go blow off some steam in the Undercroft, casting damage spells on whatever poor dummy, pillar, or knight armor happened to be in his way.

It's nothing that Repairo couldn't fix.

While your assistance in his quest to find a cure for Anne was extremely important to him, that's not the only reason he brings you along for the ride.

He genuinely enjoys your company, and it's his chance to actually be alone with you and talk without any rude interruptions.

Well...there's trolls, rankrok's loyalists, spiders, ashwinders, Inferi, etc....but none of them are annoying students who try to hog all your attention just to spite him.

Aside from Ominis, Anne keeps encouraging her twin brother to make some move if he's that jealous (which Sebastian repeatedly denies).

Sooner or later...he may lose that chance, and he fears this. But he never knew when the moment would come..

Then one night, you were both fighting poachers and their leader, an Animagus, insulted him so horribly that it made his confident expression drop for a moment--as did his Protego shield.

You didn't hear what she said exactly, but his devastated face told you enough and you were pissed.

So you rained down a torrent of ancient magic lightning before she can even think of transforming.

Sebastian could only watch as you smite her like some furious god unleashing your wrath on the world, finding you both badass and ethereal.

When it's all over, you rushed to his side and ask if he's okay--but he just kisses you right there and then, silencing you.

He's so sick of waiting.

Garreth Weasley

His jealousy is nowhere near as bad as Sebastian's...but it's still there. Just subtle.

He pouts a lot when somebody steals your attention away, and he tries way too hard to impress you with whatever brilliant potion concept he drafted up (and definitely didn't have approval to brew in class under any circumstances).

Speaking of which, you're his usual partner in potions class, so he'll be highly disappointed if Professor Sharp decides to pair you with somebody else that day.

Garreth feels this sting in his heart if he overhears you praising them for their perfect brew, while he stares into his bubbling cauldron and sulks, wondering what he could've done differently.

He didn't know how you truly felt about him, so he got the genius idea to cook up a love potion the day you had a substitute for class (he sat at the furthest station and had secretly gathered the ingredients beforehand).

Just as you were about to try it for yourself, he accidentally knocked an incompatible ingredient into the pot and caused its contents to explode, staining both of your robes in pink.

While everybody laughed, the sub made the stains vanish with some magic and decided to dismiss class early, making you two stay behind to clean up the mess.

Luckily only house points were deducted due to your actions, so you won't be getting detention for this.

Still...Garreth was quite upset and you could tell.

You reassure him you're not mad in the slightest, and that you knew exactly what he was trying to do (followed by a small wink before continuing your cleanup).

His face turned as red as a maxima potion, and when he returns to the Gryffindor common room for the night, he gets confused stares from his fellow housemates as they wonder what's gotten into him.

But he can't stop thinking about you.

Maybe you ingested droplets of the love potion after it exploded, since you did seem particularly flirtatious with him in that moment and knew his intentions.

Looks like he got his wish after all.

Now to ask you out properly..

Ominis Gaunt

He's not an easily jealous guy. He'll never get angry at other people for simply wanting to spend time with you or if you're partners with them in class.

You've made a name for yourself at Hogwarts, and while he doesn't always agree with the dangerous stuff you get involved with, he only expects people to look up to you and pull your attention away from him.

Though deep down, it kinda hurts...especially since quite a handful of students from other houses perceive him as someone you shouldn't be around (some Gryffindors with "holier than thou" personalities even had the guts to say you're better off without him when he's standing right there).

Being a Gaunt + a Slytherin had that effect, unfortunately...

But he's sick of hearing that all the time.

Anyone else would've snapped at whoever criticized them based on blood status or rudely interrupted a conversation they're clearly having with you.

Yet when he does it..suddenly he's the bad guy?

It never made sense.

So any jealous feelings Ominis has stem from his own insecurities, and they grow even worse the more he realizes he's in love with you..

Like Sebastian, he'd probably storm off to the Undercroft to calm down if he's feeling heavily upset.

Fortunately, you're quick to defend him and decline other people's advances, saying you'd much rather hang out with him.

When you nearly got into a wand duel/fistfight over something insulting they said about him, that's when he realizes you cared about him as more than a friend...

Though he wanted to test the waters, so to speak, before hyping himself up to confess to you.

So throughout the week, Ominis expressed subtle desires to be in closer proximity to you (which you were fine with despite being initially confused at his sudden change in behavior)

These are, but not limited to, linking arms while walking in the hallways, napping beside you while you were reading or petting a random cat, "accidentally" falling asleep on your shoulder in History of Magic, and letting you guide him through assignments in herbology and potions class so he took the correct measurements (his grades improved, which is always a plus).

It takes a little bit of encouragement from Sebastian, but by the week's end, he courts you in one of his favorite spots outside the castle, gathering flowers, candles, and everything.

You truly made him feel loved..and he was going to do his best to reciprocate that.

How he wishes he could see the looks on those Gryffindor preps' faces when they realize the "hero of Hogwarts" is his date.

Poppy Sweeting

Considering how little she spoke to other students, even ones from her own house, this Hufflepuff found it difficult to get close to you at first.

You being hailed as a "hero" made it especially challenging, as you seemed constantly busy and people were bugging you for attention/advice/help....all while Poppy was standing in the background, forcing a smile.

Of course, you always made time to help her rescue beasts. It became your passion, and she was happy about that. Your adventures together allowed you to connect on an emotional level.

The moment she knew she was in love was the night when you both observed a Mooncalf dance, trying to make sense of the pattern those sweet big-eyed creatures left behind.

No matter how many times you've seen them, their dances are spectacular--ever captivating.

But when Poppy asked for your opinion on the pattern she drew out, she stops after seeing your breathtaking smile, eyes practically sparkling in the glow of the moonlight..

And suddenly that's all she could focus on.

Suddenly that was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Since then, her jealousy around other students has increased tenfold...especially when one jerk who disrespected beasts bragged about their poacher parents and invited you to visit their camp.

You've never seen a girl Depulso another student so fast in your life, but Poppy acts like nothing ever happened.

Similar to Sebastian, her jealousy manifests in the form of glares and general scorn towards anyone trying to ask you out on a date (which you, fortunately, decline).

She 100% rambles to the beasts about you.

If Highwing and Lord of the Shore could talk, they'd tell her to just stfu and confess to you already bc the tension is killing them.

It only (finally) happens when you invite her to the Vivarium for the first time, and they both nudge you two together, not backing down until you finally kiss.

If any of yall know that scene in Pokémon Scarlet/Violet where the box legendary pushes Arven towards his friends...that's this exact situation.

Leander Prewett

There's not doubt that this Gryffindor was going to grow jealous of your rising popularity in Summoner's Court and Crossed Wands.

He's a sore loser, while you have generally good sportsmanship..but he secretly appreciates you encouraging him to keep practicing. He only keeps going because of your words alone.

Outside of classes and competitions, he tries to hang out with you but oftentimes your attention goes to other people--whether it's professors keeping you after class to go over extra assignments or a friend sending you an owl with an urgent request.

You don't mean to keep ditching him, but to him it feels like you're always "too busy" for him.

Leander just scowls at the owls while they stare back at him like "hey, don't shoot the messenger".

Yet even when you do manage to spend time together, he only ever asks about your recent escapades....and then refuses to believe them despite you explaining them in great detail.

To this day, he still isn't convinced you possess ancient magic.

But the truth is that he wants to believe you. He admires your bravery and is insanely in love with that aspect of you....though he doesn't know how to express that.

He wishes he can relate and have cool stories to tell, but when people bring up his name they only ever talk about his constant failures.

He doesn't feel any better when others rush to defend your acts of heroism, thinking he's being a jerk.

The truth is you actually loved him and his company despite your frequent banter, but believed him to be way out of your league.

At least until the day Professor Kogawa assigned you to help him after flying class, citing the lack of respect he's been showing to his broom and your good influence on classmates.

He saw this as his chance to impress you...and failed miserably as he was unable to focus and snapped at his broom in frustration, causing it to whack him in the face just as a group of Slytherins passed by.

They laughed and teased him relentlessly, but after scaring them off with a chomping cabbage...you realized Leander had disappeared.

But he didn't go far as you discover him sulking near the lake, hiding himself with the Disillusionment charm (which you cancelled with Revelio).

It's there he finally talks about his true feelings towards you, and you see a more vulnerable side to the typically uptight Gryffindor.

In the end, you decide to give him a chance.

#it's fair to say seb and leander are the most jealous lads ever #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #poppy sweeting #poppy sweeting x reader #leander prewett #leander prewett x reader #jealousy hcs #headcanons

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brights-place · 8 months

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Hey! Could I request a Brozone x s/o jealousy hc? Thanks!

Brozone Jealousy Headcannons

Pairing: Brozone X S/O (Seperate)

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, jealousy

A/N: Dude I love writing all your requests OMG JEBJKWN VKLKBQW anyways jealousy headcannons are the BEST!

John Dory/JD Jealousy! Headcannons

- John dory is 100% very overprotective of you - Snapped the fire would he was collecting quickly as he saw the troll talk to you as you were smiling chatting to the troll as John gritted his teeth - He gets very clingy. He latches onto your arm, jumps on your back, kisses your neck at times, that sort of thing if needed to and will glare down anybody if needed

- He feared that they would steal them away from him. - he would become jealous and possessive, and would do everything in his power to make sure that YOU! His partner only had eyes for him.

- Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.

- Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself and have an hand on your waist then kiss you right infront of them with an smirk

- Grips onto your waist while staring the person down as the dude walked away when seeing JD's glare as he left JD hugged your waist "mine" he mutters as you giggle

Spruce/Bruce Jealousy! Headcannons

- While bruce knows he is an attractive man I mean come on he's entitled as the heart throb in his band years he still thinks that you can do much better than him!

- Isn't vocal about his jealousy would just stare at how an random person would walk up and start talking to you, and the fact you were unaware about that the person was flirting with you kind of pissed him off

- He was writing an order before hearing the person flirt with you making him snap his pen and grip onto his notebook for an moment as an Vacay islander raised an eyebrow at Bruce before noticing the scene

- Bruce stood there in shock as he walked over with an aggravated look on his face as he grabbed your hand, taking you to the kitchen - "Bruce honey are you okay?" You asked him cupping his face "I'm fine. Stop talking to that guy and just give me your attention.." he mumbled as you cupped his face as you peppered his face with kisses.

- He planned on banning the person from your restaurant but you told him not too so he just gave the guy an plate of clams... there was an reason he told everybody not to order the clams

- Lets say that troll wouldn't be talking to you anymore and would be having diarrhea

- He closed the restaurant early and walked over to you hugging you so hard saying how that troll should of backed off

Clay Jealousy! Headcannons

- Clay well doesn't really get jealous But he HATES like really HATES feeling it when he is - He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you cause you trust him and he loves you so much

- He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry but when needed he will stride over smile at them - Whenever someone flirts with you clay jaw clenches involuntarily. Hiseyes narrow ever so slightly, a subtle sign that he's not entirely pleased with the attention you're receiving. - He trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own... but will 100% step in like the serious boy he is to get the person away from you - This man is petty as fuck you could see that everyone could see that

- He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very obvious to the person who's talking to you

- Showers you with affection afterwards since he held your hand and then held you close but If you accuse him of being jealous, he'll look away then back at you with an small smile muttering an "Maybe..." while you laugh

Floyd Jealousy! Headcannons

- Floyd rarely get's jealous but when he does he has two sides either very quiet and fidgety or when he notices the person trying to flirt he'd be more up front about the situation like clay and an mix of bruce/spruce - He’s a tad bit insecure and quite fidgety. He’s also very quiet, his eyes darting between you and the person you’re talking with.

- He trusts you there’s no question about that but he’s still insecure. - They were so much more confident and good-looking, and floyd felt... like he was nothing compared to the person.

- If the person leaves he will bury his head into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist and speaking softly

- Innocent questions like "Who was that?" or "Do you know them well?" become loaded with an undercurrent of jealousy. He might pretend it's just curiosity, but his heart beats a little faster as he waits for your response.

- His fingers might 'accidentally' brush against yours when he senses someone watching a little too closely. It's a subtle way of reminding everyone that he's the one who gets to hold your hand.

- In group settings he positions himself between you and any potential threats aka people trying to flirt with you -It's a protective move that ensures he can keep a watchful eye and be ready to intervene if necessary.

- He becomes unusually vocal about his love for you when he senses competition. Expect random declarations of affection and praise, as he wants the world to know just how amazing you are.

- "You wouldn't date them right?" "what why?" "I dunno" floyd muttereed quietly looking towards you "Floyd honey I love you so much your enough for me... wait where you jealous?" floyd looked away while you laughed

- Cup his face right after an tell him you wouldn't leave him but also you teasing him about him being jealous is cute

Branch Jealousy! Headcannons

- Branch doesn't like seeing you around other people... it makes him feel weird since he's afraid you'll leave him - He understands. Of course people would flirt with you! He knows that you’re pure beauty and perfection so it’s no surprise that people would want to hit on you... but it pisses him of so much - The pop trolls would gape in disbelief seeing someone like you, kindhearted and gentle dating... someone like branch cause he's... Branch

- Branch cares for you so much and would walk over place an hand on your waist and glares down at the person

- This man literally SCREAMS that episode with Rosa and her dog arlo??? in S3 Ep 12 in B99! "I love my wife/husband/partner and if anything happens to them I would kill everybody in this room then myself" vibes while your blushing and covering your face

- BUT THATT DOESN'T MEAN HE ISN'T INSECURE ABOUT IT! - He's still fairly insecure with himself! So when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is he can't help but feel self-conscious

- He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you! pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, making your favorite food, and opening the car door for you more than he already does after feeling so insecure

- but he also will glare somebody down and plan their death so fast it isn't even an joke - ESPECIALLY if they bully you he would have their heads on an stick

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

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weirdmageddon · 3 months

Text

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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vilevenom · 5 months

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This bad boy is dedicated to @em-doods, because her adorable sketches of Hickory and John Dory meandering through the woods 100% are the reason I wrote this. (She also helped push me through a rather rough patch I had while writing the first bit, so a super extra special thank you there!!)

If given the chance I will write Hickory and John Dory getting together in every conceivable fashion. In this fic, they go camping.

Enjoy!!

"I've never been campin'."

"What?!" John stared wide eyed at Hickory, who looked somewhat bashful at his admittance.

"Well, I mean…I've been campin', but not, y'know, camping," Hickory unhelpfully tried to clarify while John Dory continued to stare at him in disbelief. He sighed, scratching at his cheek as he tried to think of a way to better explain himself. "Dickory an' I would need to camp out once in a blue moon, y'know, when we were out on a hunt. But it was never the kinda campin' where you get to roast marshtatoes or go swimmin'. It was just basic survival."

"Well, I can't let that stand," John said, smacking the table they were sat at with gusto, making Hickory jump. "No way. Camping, proper camping, is one of the best experiences in the world! I don't think I can let you go another second without experiencing the wonders of camping."

And that was how Hickory found himself staring out Rhonda's front window as John drove her into wilderness unlike any he'd seen before. The troll kingdoms were beautiful and unique in their own ways, but this place was truly something else. Rhonda ducked under gnarled branches and crawled through twisting vines, with John confidently at her helm, a broad smile on his face as he described to Hickory where he was taking them. The Neverglade trail, apparently, had all of the best camping spots, and he knew just the one that Hickory would enjoy.

Hickory felt like he was going to be sick, though he plastered a pleasant smile onto his face and nodded along every time John glanced at him while he excitedly spoke about where they were headed. It wasn't that Hickory didn't want to go camping with John. Oh, no. It was the exact opposite, really. He'd been looking forward to this trip since John had declared they were going a few days prior. It was the fact that it was just the two of them. Alone. Together. It made Hickory's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweat.

Thinking back on it, Hickory came to realize that he and John Dory had only really known each other for a handful of months. They'd met when Hickory had gone to Pop Village with the intention of visiting Poppy and Branch, only to find the royal couple surrounded by a group of trolls quickly revealed to be their siblings. Swiftly, Hickory had been introduced to all of Branch's brothers, and Poppy's sister, all while beginning to feel a touch overwhelmed by the new mix of personalities. Not quite sure what to say or how to act, Hickory began to flounder, when one of Branch's brothers had tugged him aside with an easy smile.

"We're a lot, huh?"

"I mean, I dunno if I'd say that, exactly," Hickory had started to demure, only to grunt in surprise as John Dory slapped a hand to his back with a guffaw.

"You don't need to be shy, man. We all know we're a lot. Big personalities," John had reassured, sliding his hand up to rest on Hickory's shoulder. "I know you're here to visit with Branch, but how about we get out of here? I happen to know that everyone else will be buggering off here pretty soon, so you'll have a chance for some one on one time with him and Poppy, but probably not for a couple hours. You can show me around town? I assume you've been here before. I've been here for a whopping three days, so I have no idea where anything is."

Hickory hadn't even realized his shoulders had been tense until they began to relax as John spoke to him. He let a slight smile curl his lips and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I can do that," he easily agreed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops as they began to walk away from the cluster of trolls.

They'd spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other, and, quite frankly, Hickory couldn't help but to be charmed. John Dory was brash and confident in a way that made him laugh, but was also, somehow surprisingly, incredibly kindhearted.

As they were walking through town, a couple of young trollings had dashed in front of them, only for one to trip and fall directly in front of John Dory. Hickory had fully expected John to, perhaps, help the trolling up and for them to continue on their way, but instead he'd crouched down to the child's level to make sure they were okay. When it was revealed that the trolling had a scrape on their knee, John dug into his hair, pulled out a band-aid, and applied it to the injury without batting an eye. Hickory then watched in amusement as John scooped the kid up into his arms and spun around while theatrically wondering where the trolling's friend could have gone. They, of course, had been right behind John, giggling manically as the teal troll continued to spin and pretend he couldn't see them. Finally, he placed the injured child down, and the two all but begged John to go play with them.

"Sorry, I can't. See this guy behind me," John thrust his thumb over his shoulder towards Hickory, who gave them a little wave "He's my tour guide. And I can't just let him go on touring by himself."

The children whined at him while Hickory chuckled at their antics, but John ultimately encouraged them to continue on with their game, which they reluctantly did when it became obvious that John was just this side of too stubborn for them to persuade.

"That was mighty kind of you," Hickory hummed as they began to walk through the village again.

"Hm? Was it? I dunno," John said with a self depreciating little laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, "Just seemed natural to me. But, that probably comes from being the oldest of five. Lots of bumps and scrapes to take care of when they come running to you for comfort."

Hickory decided to side-step the comment about John's brothers going to him, rather than their parents. He was sure there was a story there, but it sounded like one for another time. "So…Yer the oldest brother, huh?"

John snorted, shoving Hickory playfully with an sheepish grin. "Yes. What's it to ya?"

"Not much. Just didn't much figure Branch havin' a silver fox for a siblin'."

"Silver-?! I am NOT that old. Do you see any grey hair here?!" John huffed, puffing out his chest and pulled his goggles up to show off his very teal roots, earning a laugh from Hickory. "If you must know, Branch is about fourteen years younger than me. The rest are all in between."

"Ah, can't remember with yer ancient brain? Ya need help rememberin', old man? I can always go find one of yer brothers, if ya need assistance."

"That is just uncalled for," John sniffed, looking affronted. Hickory worried for a moment that he'd taken a step too far in his teasing, when John snorted and deflated a bit. "I am getting old, aren't I?"

Hickory clicked his tongue, quickly realizing he had hit a nerve, but not the one he'd thought. "John, if I may, an' if my math is right, yer only thirty-eight. That ain't that old," Hickory reassured, offering a warm smile to the teal troll, "Yer only a few years older than I am, an' I certainly ain't old."

"Oh, yeah? And how old is the whipper snapper?" John joked, obviously lightened a bit by Hickory's reassurance.

"Thirty-two."

"Ah, you're between Clay and Floyd," John hummed, though the comment was obviously directed more towards himself.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed easily as they continued to walk through the village, Hickory occasionally pointing out landmarks or buildings he knew, while John Dory made comments here and there about how different the village was from the tree he's grown up in. He also made a point to let Hickory know that he'd obviously need to get another tour through town, what with his poor old memory not being quite what it used to be. Hickory was fairly certain he'd never had such entertaining conversation with another troll.

Eventually, they wandered back to Branch's bunker, where John bid Hickory adieu with a rather ridiculous and dramatic bow before going on his way, while Hickory descended into the bunker to have his intended visit with Branch and Poppy.

Their catching up truthfully didn't get very far before the topic of the royal couple's recent adventure and estranged siblings came up, and Hickory mindlessly blurted out, "So…what's yer brother like?"

"…which one?" Branch said with a snort, arching an eyebrow at the ex-bounty hunter.

"John Dory."

Branch seemed to think for a moment, while Poppy gave Hickory an awkward smile. "He's an obnoxious, self-centered know-it-all."

Hickory blinked, quite taken aback by Branch's opinion of his brother. "Really? I never woulda guessed that by the way he was actin' today…"

"Well, to be honest, he may be my brother, but I don't really know him that well. We haven't seen each other in twenty years, but that's the impression I've gotten of him so far," Branch said with a quiet sigh. "He'll be staying in Pop Village for a while, since Floyd is recovering. Maybe if I give him some time, my opinion will change? But, that's what I've got for now."

Hickory hummed thoughtfully, and decided he would give it some time, as well. He bounced back and forth between Lonesome Flats and Pop Village over the next few months, and never once did John Dory give Hickory the impression of being self-centered, nor did he ever become obnoxious. In fact, he continued to prove the exact opposite. Nearly every time Hickory visited, John was with Branch, Floyd, or both, supporting his younger brothers in whatever they might need. And whenever Hickory made himself known, John offered to make himself scarce so Hickory could visit with Branch unimpeded. Eventually, however, Hickory had to reveal that he'd been intending to visit John the entire time, and that had been something of an awkward chat in and of itself. The sheer surprise that had shown on John's face when Hickory admitted that he wanted to spend more time with John had certainly made his heart twist in an unexpected way.

In the end, the longer Hickory spent with John Dory, the more he seemed to develop a rather inconvenient crush on the teal troll. Especially when he did things as sweet and thoughtful as remembering Hickory had casually mentioned once that he had a soft spot for a particular cupcake made by one particular stand in the market, but he was never early enough to get one. John had presented one to Hickory with a proud little grin on his face the next time the country troll visited. Or the way he obviously thought about Hickory even when they weren't together, as on one occasion when he'd trotted up to Hickory and presented him with a rather fancy looking silver belt buckle emblazoned with intricate little flower patterns. He'd said he'd picked it up in his travels and was going to toss it away, but perhaps Hickory would like it, instead?

Now, most trolls would probably consider such actions to be relatively basic indications of friendship. However, Hickory had had so few friends, or trolls who cared for him (and not a character he and his brother created) that he couldn't help but feel special when John gave him his undivided attention. And he had a sneaking suspicion that John Dory was much the same.

He mentioned the incidents to Poppy and Branch the next time he sat down with them to chat, the former of whom cooed happily at the revelation, while the later gagged quietly.

"I…I think he's got my heart all a flutter. What do I do?" Hickory asked, head in his hands where he sat at Branch's kitchen table. He felt like a little kid, telling his friends about a crush he had on some troll well out of his league. He felt especially foolish that said friend was his crushes younger brother, who was watching him with a wrinkled nose.

"Why are you asking me? At this point, I'm pretty convinced that you know JD better than I do," Branch said with a slight grimace.

"Oh, that's so cute," Poppy gushed, waving her hands at Hickory as he glanced up at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't give me that look. It is! I've seen you two walking around town together."

"We certainly get along like a house on fire, but I don't know what to do. I haven't done this in a while. Least, not properly," Hickory sighed, slumping onto the table they were sat around.

"I don't know, man. Talk to him about camping? That seems to be one of his favorite things," Branch offered with a shrug. "Maybe that'll help lead the conversation into something?"

And Hickory had, which did indeed lead to this whole escapade in the first place. Perhaps it would allow him the opportunity to talk to the teal troll about his feelings. If he could work up the courage to do so, that is. Especially with the discouraging little voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that if the conversation went south, he was either going to be left in the wilderness on his own, or have a very awkward trip back to Pop Village.

"How much further are we gonna haveta go to get to this mysterious campin' spot a' yers?" Hickory asked, arching an eyebrow as John turned Rhonda down yet another trail.

"Oh, not too much further, I don't think," John hummed with a smile, shooting Hickory a wink that made the ex-bounty hunter need to immediately step away to try and hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes, before John finally pulled Rhonda over, and Hickory managed to calm himself down enough that his cheeks were no longer enflamed.

"Here we are!" John declared, as he spun the drivers seat around to grin widely at Hickory, who offered a slightly mollified one of his own. "Now, grab your gear, we've got a bit of a hike."

"Wait, this isn't where we're campin'?" Hickory asked, watching John pull an overstuffed backpack with a sleeping roll tied to it from atop his loft bed.

"What? No, of course not. You can't get a full and proper camping experience if we're staying in Rhonda. That's, like…'glamping', or whatever. No, if you want a proper camping trip, we gotta hike a bit further in and set up tents!" John exclaimed excitedly, pulling the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

"If ya say so," Hickory said with an awkward chuckle, grabbing his much smaller bag and sleeping roll from where he'd stashed them and following John out of Rhonda.

"Now, you be a good girl," John cooed at Rhonda as Hickory stepped up behind him, "There are lots of berry bushes here, so there's loads to eat. You make sure you're back here in a couple of days, okay?" Hickory watched in amusement as John half wrapped himself around the armadillo bus's face in the closest approximation of a hug as he could get as she churred at him happily.

"Y'sure it's okay t' just leave her here?" Hickory asked as they began to walk away, the ex-bounty hunter shooting Rhonda furtive glances the further away from her they got.

"Oh, yeah. She's a good girl. Even if she's not there when we get back, she usually comes when I call, or we'll just need to wait a day or two when we get back," John reassured, as Hickory watched the energetic bus dart off into some bushes.

"…right."

And so on they went, Hickory diligently following along behind John, until he inevitably got distracted by the massive trees and flora they were hiking past. To the rather unfortunate point where John disappeared beyond a bend before Hickory had even realized he'd been left behind.

"Hey, John, have ya ever-" he'd begun as he turned from staring at a large, drooping orange flower, only to find himself completely alone. "…John?" Hickory tentatively took a few steps forward, glancing this way and that to see if he could spot the teal troll, without luck. "Sugar," he grumbled to himself, unsure if he should proceed forward, or wait to see if John would notice his absence and turn back around to find him.

Just as he turned to sit himself beneath the flower he'd gotten distracted by, a rustling in the bush startled him into pulling a knife from his pocket and brandishing it with a snarl on his face. John had warned him, at one point on their drive here, that wild critters of all shapes and sizes roamed the Neverglades, and that he should be wary of being snuck up on, lest he be eaten. John had said it like it was a joke, but Hickory had noticed the scars John's fur hadn't quite fully grown over. He had no doubt there were plenty of critters who would like nothing more than to get a taste of troll out here, and he was not eager to give them said taste.

So, he stood his ground and waited, until finally John Dory came stumbling out of the brush, leg half tangled in a bramble.

"There you are!" John laughed, shaking the bramble off his leg as Hickory quickly tucked his knife back away, "I turned around to point out some funky looking moss and you were gone."

"Sorry 'bout that. Got caught up admirin' this here flower," Hickory admitted abashedly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"No worries, man! Just gotta make sure I keep a better eye on you," John chuckled, reaching out and unexpectedly taking Hickory's hand. The country troll felt his cheeks heat up, but luckily John had turned to start tugging him along down the trail, and so missed it entirely. "Don't want you getting lost on me!"

"No, no. Don't wanna get lost," Hickory muttered mostly to himself, his gaze stuck pretty strictly on their clasped hands now, rather than the gorgeous scenery they were walking past. Occasionally John would point something out to Hickory, which would pull the country trolls gaze up for a short period of time, before inevitably trailing back down to their hands.

John didn't let go until they reached a rocky path that lead up what most creatures would probably consider a small foot hill, but was nearly the equivalent of a mountain to the two trolls. The path wound up along the side of the hill, and was only just wide enough for them to walk up one at a time. Hickory did his best to hide his disappointment as John let him go and began to trek up the hillside.

"C'mon! If we're where I think we are, there's a great spot at the top of the hill where we can stop and have lunch," John said, glancing back at Hickory with a bright grin.

"Alright, I'mma comin'," Hickory chuckled, shifting the pack on his shoulders and following along after John.

The two managed to make it about halfway up the hill when they came across a slightly wider spot on the trail, overlooking a rather picturesque little area of the Neverglades.

"Too bad there's not more of a plateau here," John lamented as Hickory stopped next to him, "This would be a great spot to stop for lunch."

"Yeah. S'real pretty," Hickory hummed, turning to look out at the view.

"Wish I'd brought my camera," John added with a despondent sigh, "But I left it in Rhonda."

"Well, ain't that just lucky for you, then," Hickory said with a smile, reaching over his shoulder into his pack, "Because I just so happen to have brought one along." He pulled a little instant camera out of his bag and handed it to John, who snatched it eagerly.

"Awesome! Say cheese," John said with a grin, holding the camera out in front of the two and snapping a photo. Hickory blinked at the flash that went off, trying to get rid of the little flare in his vision.

"Some warnin' woulda been nice," he groused quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten such a great candid shot," John hummed, pulling the photo free of the camera and waving it slightly. He snorted once the image developed, holding it out to Hickory. "See? Perfect moment."

Hickory wrinkled his nose at the photo, which showed a happily grinning John and Hickory looking like he was, perhaps, about to sneeze. "Yeah. Real flatterin'," he muttered, reaching for the photo.

"Hey now, nuh-uh," John said quickly, pulling the photo back to hold against his chest, before quickly stuffing it into his hair, "This one's mine."

"Aw, come on, now," Hickory grumped, reaching for John's hair, "We can take a better one. You don't need t' keep that."

"No," John quickly took a step back, while shoving the camera into his hair as well, "I like it. It's mine, and you can't have it."

"Don't be childish, John," Hickory sighed, reaching for the teal trolls hair again as John quickly took another step back and snorted.

"Have you met me? I'm the least childish troll out there."

"Mhmm, you keep tellin' yerself that," Hickory chuckled, taking another step after John, only for both of them to freeze at a rather ominous cracking sound that emanated around them. "What was-" Hickory barely managed to get the words out, before he felt his foot beginning to sink as the path beneath him began to give way, and the sound of tumbling rocks hit his ears.

"Hickory!"

The ex-bounty hunter gasped as his footing slipped, quickly scrambling for John's reaching hands. The teal troll had his hair wrapped around some roots that were sticking out of the side of the hill, anchoring him as he grabbed for Hickory as he began to fall.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," John chanted as Hickory managed to grab hold of him, using his hair to pull them both away from the crumbling section of path. Once they were both on a more stable spot, Hickory opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched shut, to find himself practically nose to nose with John Dory, both of them panting like they'd just run a mile.

"You okay?" John quietly asked after a beat, grip still tight on Hickory as he stared up at him.

"Bit shaken up, but I think I'll be right as rain here right quick," Hickory murmured back, glad that the adrenaline of his near death experience and lack of breath were more than enough excuse for how dark his cheeks must be from their proximity. If he just moved his head ever so slightly, he could kiss John Dory right then and there.

"Good," John's voice shattered Hickory's momentary daydream, a short pat on his shoulder telling Hickory to move away. Which he did, taking a quick step back to give John space. "I think we're close to the top now. I'd definitely say we earned our lunch."

Hickory let out a little laugh, hoping it didn't come off as nervous or anxious. "Well, you certainly did," he said, following after John, "All I did was nearly fall down the hill."

"Yeah, but you didn't," John said, glancing briefly back at Hickory, "Doesn't that also deserve celebration?"

Hickory smiled to himself as he followed after John, mentally telling his heart to shut up as it did a little summersault in his chest at John's words.

They reached the summit of the hill rather quickly after that, not stopping until they knew they were on completely stable ground, neither wanting to risk a repeat incident.

"Here we go," John sighed as they reached the top, swinging his bag off his back, "This looks like a great spot to stop for a bit."

Hickory let out a little whistle as he also set his bag on the ground, turning in a small circle to take in the views. "It's a mighty nice spot, that's for certain," he hummed, only turning back to John when he heard the tell-tale click of his camera. He snorted a quiet laugh, arching an eyebrow at John as he pulled the photo from the camera and began to wave it in the air. "Whatcha got there?"

"Memories," John stated, a little smile curling his lips as the photo developed.

Hickory felt his heart skip a beat at the look on John's face, before he cleared his throat and stepped over to take a look at the snap shot. It was a bit of an odd angle, obviously taken hastily while Hickory had his back turned, but it was a nice photo all the same. The rolling hills and vast trails stretching out into the distance could be easily seen just past Hickory's shoulder.

"S'not a bad shot," the ex-bounty hunter hummed, reaching for the photo, only to find it disappearing into John's hair to join the previous one.

"Sure is," John said with a cheeky grin, before turning to start pulling a blanket and some food from his bag.

"Cheeky," Hickory laughed, joining John on the blanket once he had it all rolled out.

They ate in relative silence for a bit, simply enjoying each others company and the view, until the camera came back out of John's hair.

"I regret givin' that thing to ya," Hickory snorted after John snapped a photo of him while he was about to take a bite of his sandwich.

"You can't blame me for wanting to document your first camping trip," John said, sticking his tongue out at Hickory, who simply rolled his eyes and continued to eat, "It's a big deal, y'know. You're trying to start fresh, try new things, be a different troll from who you once were. Taking these baby steps, even just going on a camping trip for fun, it's a lot. You said it's something you've never done before, right? You should have something to remember it by."

Hickory stared at John for a long moment, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Why, that's real sweet of you, Johnny." His smile widened into a cheshire grin as as he watched John's cheeks darken at his comment.

"Shut up," John grunted, a smile betraying his grumpy tone as he flicked a small rock at Hickory, who easily dodged it with a laugh.

They finished up their meal while chatting amicably about the trail thus far, with John animatedly regaling Hickory with stories about the first time he came up this way, long before he'd had Rhonda. He admitted it was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring Hickory to this particular spot, as it held a certain amount of nostalgia for him, since it'd been one of the first spots he'd stopped while exploring the trails.

"Ya certainly do got a lot of good memories out here, dontcha?" Hickory hummed as they packed up their bags, a soft little smile on his face as he listened to John hum to himself while retying his bag shut.

"Sure do," John chirped, before pulling the camera from his hair again and walking over to Hickory.

"Aw, what now?" Hickory snorted, somewhat wary of the camera, now that he knew John was going to take every opportunity he could to snap unflattering photos of him.

"Nothing. Come here," John said, turning Hickory so his back was to the view. He opened his mouth to protest as John stole his cowboy hat and set it aside, only to snap it closed as John wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged him down into his shoulder. "There. Plenty of warning this time," John chuckled, cheek practically pressed to Hickory's, "Say 'cheese'!" He held the camera up and the flash went off. Hickory blinked to get ride of the afterimage, rubbing at his eye in mild irritation as John pulled the photo from the camera. "Nice," the teal troll hummed, a warm smile curling his lips. After a moment he offered it to Hickory. "You can have this one, if you want."

Hickory took the photo with mild suspicion, knowing full well the caliber of photo John had been taking thus far, only to be pleasantly surprised by what he saw. John was grinning widely in the photo, his arm blocking the lower left corner of the frame, while Hickory looked a little dazed, with a slightly crooked smile on his own face, and his cheek squished against John's. In the background over John's shoulder the spectacular view from the top of the hill could be seen, with the sunlight speckled across the trees at just the right angle.

Hickory was pulled from his admiration of the photo by John chuckling practically in his ear, just over his shoulder, pack already strapped to his back and bouncing on his toes. "You struck speechless by my excellent photography skills?"

"Somethin' like that," Hickory said with a quiet laugh, carefully tucking the photo into the inside pocket of his vest before scooping his hat up from where John had set it and slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The trek down from the hilltop was far less perilous than the trip up had been. To Hickory's great disappointment, John did not take his hand again once they'd reached the bottom, and in what felt like no time at all, John lead them to what he declared would be their camp site. It was a rather sizeable clearing, with bushes and tall grass most of the way around it, with only two trails leading away from it, aside from the one they'd come down to reach it. John explained that one lead to a little lake they could go swimming in, while the other lead further into the Neverglades.

"Alright," John declared, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thump, "Did you bring a tent?"

Hickory flushed, setting his own bag down more gingerly. "'Fraid not. Not gonna lie, I thought we'd be stayin' with Rhonda," the country troll admitted, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept under the stars, so I'll be just fine."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began to unpack his bag, tossing tent pegs and ropes onto the ground in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. My tent is plenty big enough for two. Besides, you never know what critter might come across camp in the middle of the night. A tent gives us at least a bit of cover."

"Ah," Hickory's brain froze for a moment, the idea of being tucked up close to John in a tent sending a little shiver down his spine. "Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, ducking his head so the brim of his hat would hopefully hide the blush that was yet again creeping across his cheeks, "Yeah, that'd be right as rain."

"Good," John grunted, pulling folded up tent poles from his bag, "Well, since that's settled, how about you start setting up a spot for the fire while I put up the tent?"

"Sure thing," Hickory said with a quick nod, turning to wander around the camp site to pick up some stones to mark a space for a small fire pit. He paused and glanced up when he heard the soft, tell-tale sound of a pile of fabric hitting the ground, fully expecting John to have tossed the tent from his bag, ready to offer his help once again, only to bite his tongue at the realization that it was his jacket that John had tossed aside. The teal troll was busy setting up the tent poles, a little frown of concentration on his face while he worked, completely unaware of Hickory staring at him from across the clearing. "Sugar," Hickory breathed, jerking into motion quickly as John glanced at him from where he was working.

"Hey, how about, after this, we go for a swim."

"A swim?" Hickory echoed, tucking a rock into the small collection in his arm while turning to arch an eyebrow at John, only to nearly drop them all at being presented with John leaning against one of the erected tent poles, a little smirk on his face and sweat beading on his brow.

"Yeah! It's kinda humid today, and setting up this tent is making me sweaty. I think a pre-dinner swim would be nice, don't you?" John said with a little laugh, shoving himself off the pole to start gathering the fabric of the tent up from the ground. "Work up a bit of an appetite before we eat."

Hickory swallowed thickly as John tossed the fabric over the tent frame he'd set up, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what was being said to him. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that'd be a right fine idea," he agreed, shaking his head quickly to try and get his mind off of the sweaty, half naked troll across from him. "C'mon, Hickory. Get yer act together," he grumbled to himself, walking to a spot he thought would be good for the fire and dropping his collection of rocks.

"I think you might be too close to the tents."

"Sugar, honey an' iced tea!" Hickory exclaimed, whipping his head in John Dory's direction, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What's got your head in the clouds, anyway?" John asked, propping his hands on his hips and tilting his head at Hickory, reminding the country troll of a particularly adorable cuddle pup.

"Ah, y'know, just , uh, doin' a mental checklist. Tryin' to remember if I brought my swim gear," Hickory offered with an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. What were ya sayin'?"

"Even if you forgot yours, you can always borrow mine. I don't mind swimming in my regular shorts," John offered with an easy smile, "And I was just saying that I think where you're setting up the fire might be too close to the tents."

Hickory looked between where John had most of the tent set up, barring the tent pegs being hammered into the ground, and the pile of rocks he'd dropped on the ground to find that he was, indeed, just a bit too close. One good breeze in the wrong direction could carry embers onto the fabric. "Oh. Beggin' yer pardon," the country troll apologized quickly, bending to pick the rocks back up, "I really was too lost in my own head just then, wasn't I?"

"Hey, happens to the best of us," John laughed, shrugging a bit. "Just move it a bit over there," he gestured vaguely away from the tent, "And it should be fine. I think I saw a decently sized stick over there, too. We can move it into the clearing to sit on later, by the fire."

Hickory nodded, dropping his rocks where John had gestured. "This whole campin' for fun thing is turnin' out to be a lot like campin' for survival," he noted, arching an amused eyebrow at John who snorted and trotted back over to the tent.

"Set up is always a pain. Same with take down. But all of the in between is great," John shot Hickory a charming smile, completely unaware of how it made the ex-bunty hunters heart flutter, before crouching down to hammer in the tent pegs. "Just you wait!"

"Sounds like a plan," Hickory muttered, though he very much doubted he was heard over the sound of the hammer. Which was probably for the best, as he had to shake himself out of staring after the teal troll once again.

In relative short order, Hickory set up his little circle of rocks while John finished up with the tent pegs. He then shoved his way through the brush surrounding the clearing to see about gathering up some wood for the fire they would be building when they got back from swimming. He deposited his selection of twigs, sticks and bark next to his rock circle once he figured he had enough for the night, just as John finished tying off a large tarp above where he'd finished setting up the tent.

"Y'all set?" Hickory asked, trotting up to John as the teal troll wiped his brow with the back of his hand, dislodging his goggles so they sat askew on his head.

"I think so. We're looking pretty good!" John chirped, grinning up at Hickory.

"I'd say so," Hickory agreed easily with a quiet little laugh, reaching out to fix John's crooked goggles. John looked startled by the gesture, Hickory barely catching a glimpse of a dark flush creeping over John's cheeks before the teal troll turned away from him once his hands dropped away. He took a quick step back, watching as John swiftly moved across the campsite to dig into his bag. Intrigued by the reaction, Hickory made a mental note about it for later.

"Did you bring your trunks?" John's voice snapped Hickory back to reality.

"Pretty sure," Hickory hummed, shuffling over to his bag to dig into it and pull out his swim shorts.

"Great! Then get changed, and we'll head down to the water," John said, staring at Hickory expectantly.

Hickory stared right back, slowly arching an eyebrow at the teal troll. "You gonna stare at me the whole time I'm changin', or just for the first little bit?" He snorted quietly as John's face lit up as he turned on his heel to face away from Hickory. The ex-bounty hunter shook his head with a quiet laugh, setting his hat aside and quickly changing into his swim trunks. He then dug into his bag and pulled out the beach towel he'd packed, draping it over his shoulders as he cleared his throat. "All set. You gonna change, too?"

"Nah," John hummed, glancing at Hickory over his shoulder, though he did pull off his goggles and glove to toss them into the tent. "I'm just gonna go as is. These shorts are already sweaty and dirty, may as well sorta wash 'em by swimming with them on."

"All right," Hickory chuckled, stepping up next to John, "Lead the way, then."

And so John did, after grabbing his own towel from his belongings. The path down to the lake was relatively short and straight forward, but John seemed to take pride in leading Hickory around, so he diligently followed along with an indulgent smile on his face. The lake itself was relatively small, as John had already mentioned, but that didn't make it any less picturesque than the rest of the Neverglades had been thus far. The shores were soft slopes of jutting rock and densely packed dirt, surrounded by drooping trees with their branches and leaves barely grazing the water, causing little ripples every time the wind blew. Early evening sunlight was dappled across the surface of the lake, making it sparkle.

"My," Hickory breathed, almost feeling like he shouldn't be there. Like he was intruding on sacred ground.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" John hummed quietly next to him, "Almost makes you not want to swim."

Hickory opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment, only to jump slightly as John let out a whoop of a shout while tossing his towel aside, before running towards the water. Hickory couldn't contain his laughter as John jumped from the shore as he reached the waters edge, canon balling into the lake with a large splash.

"Well, that's one way to do it, I s'pose," Hickory chuckled to himself, tossing his towel next to John's. He let out a shout of his own once John surfaced further out into the lake, running and tossing himself into the water with gusto. He surfaced to the sound of John's laughter, followed shortly by a splash of water to the face. "Hey now," he laughed, returning the splash blindly, figuring he'd hit his target based on the sound of John sputtering. He wiped water from his face and grinned at finding John coughing and blinking water from his eyes. "That's what ya get for tryin' a sneak attack," Hickory stated, self satisfied smirk on his face.

"I'll show you sneak attack," John grumbled to himself, before launching himself through the water at Hickory with a yell. Hickory let out a startled shout in response, flailing rather uselessly in the water before John tackled him around the chest and dragged him under the surface.

The two tussled in the water like that for some time, with John using any means necessary to try and catch Hickory off guard as they swam back and forth across the lake, waging war with sweeping splashes. Hickory finally called it quits when John tried to use a handful of slimy lake weeds to retaliate against Hickory for managing to dunk him underwater.

"All right, I'm think I'm done," the country troll sighed, pulling an especially long piece of weed from his hair and tossing it aside.

"Aww, but we haven't even been out here that long," John practically pouted, earning a fond smile form Hickory.

"Never said we had to go back. Just that I think the war is over," Hickory hummed, kicking his feet off the bottom of the lake to float on his back. He watched John continue to pout for a minute out of the corner of his eye, before the teal troll began to swim towards the shore. "Where are ya goin'?" he called, turning to tread water with a small frown on his face.

"If you're done," John called back, walking up onto the shore, running fingers through his water logged locks, "I'm gonna work on my canon balls."

Hickory was quite certain that John had no idea the kind of sight he made as he trotted along the lakeside, looking for a good spot to use as a pseudo-diving board. He kept absently running his fingers though his hair, which supplied a steady supply of water droplets that cascaded down over his torso, which Hickory had to fight with every fiber of his being not to watch as they made their way down to the ground. The country troll had never been so happy to be submerged in water as he was just then, letting himself sink so his nose was barely above the surface as he watched John Dory pause at a particularly large rock and nod to himself. The teal troll climbed up onto it and shot Hickory a winning grin once he was at the top, waving enthusiastically, before letting out a bellow and tossing himself into the water. He was completely, stupidly endearing and Hickory knew that if he didn't say something by the end of this trip, he might just go insane.

John continued his cycle of climbing out of the water and jumping enthusiastically back in for some time, Hickory not even noticing that the sun had began to set with how enraptured he was with watching. That was, until the teal troll finally scooped his towel up from the ground instead of running off to his chosen diving rock.

"Hey, it's getting late," John called out to him, gesturing that he should swim to shore, "We should probably go get started on the fire and make some dinner."

"Oh! Right. Dinner," Hickory muttered to himself, before he began to swim back to shore, shivering as he climbed out of the water and a cool breeze swept across the lake.

"C'mon. We'll get a nice big fire going, and get you toasty warm," John said with an easy smile, handing Hickory his towel.

Hickory bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid like 'Or you could warm me up', and instead murmured a quiet thanks as he took his towel and rubbed at his sopping hair.

"I brought some classic camping food," John hummed as he began to lead the way back up to their campsite, Hickory hot on his heels, "Hotdogs to roast over the fire, and marshtatoes for later!"

"Sounds swell," Hickory said with a little nod, draping his towel over his shoulders as they reached the campsite. "By the by, where did ya say that stick was? The one we could use as a bench near the fire?"

"Right! We should move that first," John said as he snapped his fingers, and pointed towards a patch of grass near the tent.

Moving the stick was only a small struggle when they discovered it was actually much larger than they had anticipated, as part of it was buried in the dirt. Luckily, what Hickory lacked in tenting supplies, he made up for in random assorted other items that John, apparently, neglected to bring along. Such as a hatchet. He made rather quick work of hacking into the stick and cutting off the portion John had indicated would make good seating, and if he happened to flex a bit more than he normally would because he caught John watching out of the corner of his eye, well, who could blame him?

The two of them managed to drag the end of the stick over to the little circle of rocks without much trouble after that, and Hickory promptly dropped himself onto it once it was settled where John thought would be the best spot.

"Gonna need to go for another swim, after that," the ex-bounty hunter joked, kicking his feet out in front of himself as John crouched next to the rocks and began to set up the bits of bark Hickory had gathered.

"If there are enough glow flies in the area we can go for a night swim, if you want," John muttered, half distracted as he struck a match and lit the kindling he'd set up. Gently, he blew into the small pile of bark and twigs until the flames began to grow, a proud little smile on his face as he slowly fed twigs into it until it was large enough that he could put a couple of the larger sticks on. Once it seemed like he thought the fire wouldn't need to be babied further he stood with a pop of his knees and a crack of his back, a low groan leaving him as Hickory winced in sympathy.

"That sounded like it hurt," Hickory commented idly as John dropped onto the stick next to him with a grunt.

"Don't get old," John joked, laughing as Hickory shoved him lightly.

"I'll remind ya, since yer memory's apparently goin', that I'm only a few years younger than ya. Yer knees ain't the only ones that make noise when ya stand up," Hickory said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, d'ya really reckon we could go swimmin' at night? Y'don't think that'd be dangerous, with all the critters roamin' around?"

John shrugged, watching the flames as their fire slowly grew. "I mean, I don't see why not. Like I said, there just needs to be enough glow flies so we can see. The stars out here are pretty bright, but it's better if there are glow flies. They're a really good, obvious, first alert system if something is close by."

"Cause they'll fly away," Hickory hummed with a nod, "Smart."

"Yeah. It's something my dad taught me, a long time ago," John sighed wistfully, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, his gaze distant. Hickory took that as his queue to go and fetch the hotdogs from John's bag, as well as grabbing a couple of sticks from their little stash to spear the hotdogs with.

"Here," Hickory gently nudged John in the shoulder with his own, offering the teal troll one of the sharpened sticks as John visibly blinked himself back into reality.

"Oh! Thanks," John chuckled, gingerly taking the stick from Hickory, "Sorry. Sort of zoned out there. Didn't mean to get so lost in thought."

"It's alright," Hickory said with a small shrug, cutting open the package of hotdogs to spear one on the end of his stick, "Happens to the best of us. Mind if I ask what ya were thinkin' 'about?"

"Just family junk," John offered with a little shrug of his shoulders, taking a hotdog of his own and stabbing it a bit more violently than strictly necessary.

"I assume 'bout yer dad?"

John clicked his tongue, a wry little smile turning the corner of his lips. "Yeah. A bit. More about my brothers, though, I guess. I never did this with any of them," he gestured vaguely at their campsite. "I got to go camping once with my dad, and he taught me loads. But none of my brothers got to. And then things just sort of got crazy out of hand, and I never got to take any of them." He paused, sitting up and shooting Hickory an apologetic smile. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a fun trip, you don't need me babbling about family drama."

"I don't mind," Hickory reassured, gently resting his free hand on John's elbow, "Don't got much family, myself, aside from my older brother, an' that's a whole can a' worms on it's own…But, I don't mind hearin' 'bout other folks family. If ya need someone with a willin' ear, I'm always here."

John turned his head to look at Hickory, his gaze almost searching as his brow furrowed slightly. "That means a lot," he murmured, shifting so he could take the hand on his elbow into his own, entwining their fingers together. "I really…I really like talking to you, Hickory. I know we haven't known each other that long, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too, Johnny."

John seemed to think for a moment, watching Hickory intently, before he leaned down to prop his stick between two of the rocks around their fire. He then took Hickory's and did the same with it, before turning sideways on their make-shift bench and taking Hickory's hands in his own. He visibly swallowed, thumbs brushing the backs of Hickory's hands, which sent little shivers up the country's trolls spine.

"You okay, John?" Hickory asked, leaning forward slightly with a concerned frown.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was said so quietly Hickory thought, perhaps, he was hearing things. "Pardon?"

John flushed, his ears drooping slightly as he gave Hickory's hands a little squeeze. "Can I kiss you?" he repeated a little louder, gaze fixed on their hands. "I might've been reading you wrong, but I think…I think you want to kiss me, too? It's okay, if you don't. I won't be offended, and we can pretend this never happened, I just…" He lifted his gaze, letting out a little breath, "I really want to kiss you."

"John Dory," Hickory stated, tugging John's hands closer so the teal troll was forced to lean further towards him, "If ya don't kiss me right this instant, I will be madder than a wet hen."

"Can't have that," John chuckled, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Hickory's.

It was like pop rocks were poured down Hickory's spine, little tingles igniting what felt like every nerve ending as John shifted closer on their little bench so he could kiss the country troll more deeply. Their hands parted from each other, only to slide into hair and cling to shoulders, earning little shivers and soft sighs each time their lips parted for a moment for air.

"C'mon," John breathed after a time that Hickory's mind could hardly fathom, though the world was distinctly darker than it was before he got lost in John's lips. John stood, a hand outstretched towards Hickory in offering.

Hickory took it without hesitation, letting John lead him to their tent, anticipation twisting in his gut, their dinner and plans of swimming long forgotten.

When Hickory woke the next morning, it was to a tent distinctly devoid of John Dory. Groggily, he rubbed at his face as he sat up and looked around, finding what he assumed was John's silhouette on the outside of the tent, puttering around their campsite. He grunted as he shoved away the blankets he'd gotten tangled up in during the night and somehow managed to locate his pants and belt, tugging them on quickly before he stumbled into the morning light.

"Good morning!" John's voice was chipper and loud, making Hickory cringe slightly as he finger combed his hair.

"Mornin'," the country troll drawled, squinting against the sun until he found his hat and tugged it on, letting out a contented little sigh. He turned to find John Dory hovering over the fire, poking at what appeared to be eggs cooking on top of a flat stone. "Yer up mighty early."

"Habit," John said with a shrug, "Once the sun is up, I'm up."

"Disgusting," Hickory snorted, earning a light laugh from John.

"Yeah, well, can't be helped," John hummed, grabbed a large leaf and scooping one of the eggs from the stone onto it with a knife. "Forgot to bring plates, so you're going to have to deal with eating off a leaf with your fingers."

Hickory took the leaf happily, trotting over to their stick bench and sitting down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause there wasn't much in terms of other options," John snorted, taking up his own leaf and egg before knocking the flat rock off the fire and walking over to the stick to sit as well.

They ate their breakfast quietly, John staring off into the fire, while Hickory let his eyes drift shut, smiling slightly to himself as he let the early morning sounds of the forest wash over him. He felt peaceful and calm, a warm little ember in his chest growing steadily at the knowledge that the troll his heart chose to beat wildly for was sat next to him and felt the same. Or, so he assumed.

"Hickory," John's quiet but serious tone shattered the tranquility of the forest, and drew Hickory from his revere. He blinked and turned his gaze towards John, who was still staring intently into the fire.

"What is it?"

"About last night…"

Hickory frowned, his posture stiffening at the words John spoke. He had to force his fingers to not tremble around the leaf he held. "What about it?"

"It doesn't-…Look, I know I dragged you all the way out here, and I'm your only way home, so just in case," John rambled, speaking without taking a breath, "It doesn't have to mean anything. We don't…If you felt obligated, I'm sorry. We can pretend nothing happened and go home right now, if you want."

Hickory stared John down, absentmindedly crushing the leaf in his hands. "Ya think I'd feel obligated to sleep with ya, just because we're out in the woods?"

"I mean," John flushed, looking up at Hickory, anxiety clear as day on his face, "…maybe?"

"I would sooner stab any troll that tried somethin' that I didn't want, then go willingly off to their tent," Hickory practically growled, before taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening as John shifted and squirmed on the stick next to him. "I ain't mad," he said after a beat, letting out another breath.

"You sound like it."

"Only 'cause you implied I was easy."

"Sorry."

Hickory opened his eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before turning his gaze to John once again, arching an eyebrow at finding the teal troll practically curled in on himself in his seat. "This been buggin' ya for a while?"

"I couldn't sleep," John admitted, and upon closer inspection Hickory could see the bags under John's eyes.

Hickory sighed quietly, letting his irritation slowly seep out of him. He reached out, his heart twisting as John flinched slightly at the movement. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he reassured, gently taking one of John's hands in his own, "I'd never hurt ya. John…I was so happy, last night, when ya said ya wanted to kiss me. I've been wantin' to do that for quite a while. Just didn't quite know how to go about sayin' anythin'. I like you, John Dory. A whole lot."

John's posture loosened as Hickory spoke, his hunched position straightening as he unconsciously leaned in towards the country troll. "Really?" he breathed, and Hickory could almost describe his expression as being starstruck.

"I don't have a tendency to say things I don't mean."

Hickory let a crooked little smile settle on his face as John slowly shifted closer to him, turning slightly so he could wrap both of his hands around Hickory's. "I'm so sorry. For thinking I'd taken advantage of you. For implying you would do anything you didn't feel comfortable with. I just thought that, if you didn't want it, or felt bad for me or something-"

Hickory cut him off with a snort of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Why on this green earth do you think I would feel bad for ya?"

John blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Uh…'cause I'm a washed up ex-boyband member with a laundry list of family trauma issues and no friends?"

"Who's also mighty handsome, talented, a skilled survivalist, and who seems to be completely blind to the admirers that watch 'im every time he goes to the market?"

"…You think I'm handsome?"

"Not the take away ya should be focusing on here, Johnny," Hickory snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Go on."

Hickory chuckled, cupping John's cheek in his free hand. "You think pretty little of yerself, an' that's a real shame. I wish ya could see yerself the way I do."

"And how's that?"

"Like a shootin' star in the night sky. So beautiful an' bright, but burnin' out so fast most folks can't appreciate ya for yer true magnificence," Hickory hummed, enjoying the way John's cheeks darkened, just before he gently tugged the teal troll into a kiss.

They parted with a quiet gasp between the two of them, John looking a bit dazed.

"So…you're my boyfriend now, right?" John asked bluntly after a beat, earning a surprised burst of laughter from Hickory.

"You bet yer bottom dollar, playboy."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls hickory #trolls john dory #hickdory #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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floydira · 9 months

Note

I saw your request rules and I was wondering if you could do yandere Velvet? If not that's perfectly fine, take as much time as you need!

₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ

yandere velvet headcanon.

warning ; yandere behavior, mention of killing, obsessive behavior, all that jazz

her obsession with you started when she first met you. you are close with the two superstar siblings, velvet and veneer.

you had something that other people didn't have. that is, you could be straightforward and blunt with her without sugarcoating anything.

sure, she absolutely HATES criticism but coming from you, you just have something that makes it easier to tolerate for her.

after finishing her performance, she always comes to you to ask for your thoughts.

"how was it? I was amazing, wasn't I?" velvet would come to you with her smug tone.

if you give her praises and compliments, best believe she's going to be remembering that shit for life until she dies. hearing a compliment from you makes her kick her feet and giggle like a fangirl despite her being the superstar.

of course since you're close with the siblings, you talk to veneer a lot too. she loathed that. it's visible on her face too.

as much as she liked her brother(not much...), she'd rather he disappear just so she could hoard all your attention to herself.

she'll threaten veneer to stay away from you. knowing him, he'll definitely back off.

noticing veneer's distance from you, you wanted to come up to ask him why he's distancing himself from you or what's wrong, but velvet stopped you before you could.

"why are you going to him? don't you want to hangout with me?"

she'll give you her biggest puppy eyes.

she'll do all kinds of manipulative tactics to keep you by her side at all times.

she'd gaslight you into thinking you only need her.

"I have all the fame, money and love that you need, darling. can't you see that I'm the only one who cares for you? I take care of you, I keep you safe and love you dearly. who else would do that for you?"

once her manipulative tactics work, she'll grin evilly in front of the mirror.

"oh how I love being me!"

she has eyes on you, always. If you're going out with someone, talking to someone or just doing something in general, she'll know.

she'll pay professional paparazzis to secretly take photos of you. she'll threaten them if they ever try to tell anyone about her doing.

sometimes she'll pop out of nowhere and come up to you, especially if you're hanging out with someone else, as if she ended up meeting you by coincidence.

"oh! how nice to see you here, sweetie! who's...that imbecile little speck of dust?" she'll cheerily greet you before glaring at the person with you and looking them up and down with disgust on her face.

"why didn't you invite me along? don't tell me...is it because you're starting to hate me?!" she'll act like she's hurt and upset dramatically to guilt trip you.

spoils you a LOT. anything you want, she'll give it to you. "anything for you, dearie." she'll say with a lovesick look in her eyes.

if you come to watch her performances, she'll stare at you so obviously through the crowd. her eyes are all on you. as if her reason to perform is you, yourself. as if the performance itself is made for you.

she sees you as like a treasure, she needs you. she'll do anything to get you wrapped around her finger.

she's touchy, super touchy. she'll subtly put her hand around your waist, sit on your lap, lay her head on you, whatever she can to have a sense of your touch with hers.

she'll plan her way of asking you out, extravagantly. once she does, you're going to be swept off your feet. there is no way you're able to say no.

once you're official, she's all up on you. way more than she used to be. quite literally trapping you in her arms.

she has punishments for you if you do something she doesn't like.

"how unfortunate of you, sweetie...it's too bad you got too close with them. I'll have to punish you."

her punishments include some sharp carvings on your skin, mostly her name carved onto your skin.

overall, she's deathly obsessed with you and will kill you and herself included, if you ever try to leave her.

"I love you, I love you, oh I love you so much! you won't ever leave me right? don't ever leave me."

#trolls band together #trolls 3 #trolls x reader #velvet x reader #velvet headcanon #trolls velvet #yandere velvet #yandere x reader

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imasoftieforbarb · 10 months

Note

Hi! This had been on my mind for some time and im wondering if u can write it? Clay with a fiancee that unlike like most trolls is an introvert? And doesn't go out much. She looks tired, like messy hair and sleepy eyes.

It's because she has 4 older brothers of whom the oldest has a sickness which makes him bedridden, so she takes care of him. The other brothers have gone their seperate ways- only visiting once every 5 months or so. And could you also do brozones reaction to this? Take your time and thank you!

Clay x Introvert Fiancé Reader

He knew your family situation was sorta like his

He just didn’t know the extent of it

The way you guys met was through Viva

She introduced him to you cause you were pretty low key and he was too tired for upbeat-ness

When he asked you to be his fiancé you sat him down (after you said yes with the biggest smile ever) and explained the full story behind your family

The reason you leave Putt Putt Village every month? To look after your older brother who’s seriously ill

Your other brothers? You have no idea where they are

He comforts you through it all- he gets special permission from Viva to leave with you to look after your brother together

No way in hell is he gonna let you go through that alone

On your journey to where your oldest brother lives, he explains his family situation

And you both talk about it- a heart to heart

You definitely both start crying

I like to hc Clay as someone who likes to read to his S/O

So he reads to you to help you calm down and sleep

He meets your older brother who is absolutely ecstatic to meet ‘the famous Clay who’s got my little sister swooning’

You glare at him playfully from behind Clay

Clay enjoys spending time with your brother, who tells him that he’s happy you’ve got someone to lean on now

Clay sees how hard you work to make sure your brother has everything and is comfortable

Clay also meets the nanny (who apparently has a crush on your brother)

When you leave, your brother demands that he gets to come to the wedding and tells Clay to take extra good care of you

When he meets his brothers again, he introduces you but makes sure they don’t encroach on your personal space

Explains that you’re an introvert

They all go “aaaaaaaah gotcha” then start bombardons you with questions from a safe distance

They didn’t get the hint

You don’t go with them- Clay insists you stay in the village, he doesn’t want you in danger

You have a heartfelt hug and kiss before you run off to delay viva from finding out

“You gotta promise me you’ll be safe”

He presses a final kiss to your lips before softly resting his forehead on yours

“I promise”

It takes everything in Bruce to not cry

You do join in the journey with viva- you wanna make sure he’s alright

You end up being the one to free him from the shoulder pads and you have a quick hug through the diamond before they leave to trip Velvet

You stay with Viva and Poppy whilst the brothers cry for Floyd

Clay introduces you to Floyd as soon as possible

You end up getting along pretty well-

Then one day, when Brozone, Poppy and King Peppy are visiting Putt Putt Village to pick up Viva but also see the full extent of it

Your three other brothers show up

By this point your wedding is approaching and you’re stressing out a little bit

But you’ve also told Clay, and the others about your relationship with your other brothers

And even Poppy can see that the bond can’t be fixed

So when they show up?

They’re met with an angry Clay refusing to let them see you knowing how much it hurts when they turn up just to leave

Disappointed Bruce and Floyd who just look on with deadpan expressions, shaking their heads

JD runs to get you- letting you know that you have a choice and you don’t have to see them

You end up seeing them, holding Clays hand for comfort as you do the bare minimum of introducing them to everyone

Asking your brothers what they want now, only rolling your eyes when they tell you they need various things from you

You kick them out of the village, telling them the only way they can come to your wedding is if your older brother lets them come

They all pale cause there’s no way that’s happening

Clay holds you whilst you have a little cry

100/10 husband material

Let me know if I should do a PT2 the wedding!

#brozone #trolls band together #brozone x reader #trolls clay x reader #trolls clay #brozone clay x reader #brozone clay

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 5 months

Text

Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

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