#but yes I think he was? so idk does that make it slightly more meaningful?

[apollo-just-ice]

OH MY GOD ALFONSE WON CYL??!!!

I DID NOT EXPECT THIS BUT I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT OMG

Summer is gonna be sooooo good I can’t wait aaah 😭

[heavenlymorals]

Do you have any tips for how to write Arthur Morgan’s personality in general? I’m trying to write a fic but I feel like no matter what I do it somehow just makes him feel out of character haha. It’s probably since I’m writing one with a reader/oc character x Arthur. Like I don’t want to remove Mary from the story because she shaped so much of his character’s pain (since in my opinion I assume that Arthur probably got Eliza with child from a one night stand trying to bounce back after Mary had told him that she was engaged to some other man). But I also don’t know how to really write Arthur as he’s completely over Mary and how he is instead with someone he considers the love of his life, cheesy I know but I had too haha. I’m also trying to somewhat do a slow burn and trying to instead have Arthur seemingly brood over his love for the reader rather than how he did with Mary in the game.

I don’t know if this makes sense and feel free to ignore it LOL

Ahah here goes nothing- my consensus on a general understanding of Arthur Morgan-

I think the biggest thing that people should focus on when writing Arthur is his personality differences between men and women. There is a pretty clear divide between how behaves with men compared to how he behaves with women. It can change slightly between how close he is with the people, but it's pretty much the same.

With women, Arthur is very respectful and chivalrous. He even gets mad at other men if they don't behave accordingly. He is more interested in them as well in the sense that he'll listen to their dreams and hobbies and either add to the conversation or encourage them in some way that seems more meaningful, even if it can be at times superficial, just a way to be polite. However, he is no push over. You know that meme that's like "Me and my girl don't argue, she tells me to shut the fuck up and I do"? Yeah, that is NOT Arthur. He can raise his voice, call them out, etc etc. when he feels disrespected in some way or if the person is doing something stupid. We see this with Mary, Sadie, and Abigail. He is also more likely to talk about his emotions with women, but not really BE emotional. Idk if that makes sense, but I don't know how else to say it.

However, Arthur is more inclined to be disrespectful to women who don't fit into his view of life and the status quo of the time (ie. Prostitutes, masculine women, etc.)

Honestly, just think of that when writing him with your oc (I'm going to assume they're a woman 😭). Is Mary a big part of Arthur's character? Yes and no. He can obviously make time for her, but she isn't controlling his every action and thought process. His main focus is the collective of the gang and once the gang is safe, that's when he'll actively start looking for love because that's when he'll have the time and energy for it.

Now with men, Arthur is much more rough. He is very much a suck it up kinda guy with other dudes. There is clearly a hierarchy in the game and he enforces it, especially with the men underneath him. He forces them to work, doesn't take their excuses really, will call them out, will be mean, and will even make threats (ie. Sean). He likes men who are hard workers and are always on the go (Lenny) and is more likely to be jovial, open, and willing to talk. He also will take NO shit from other men and that will either leave the other man read to filth or a black eye. Arthur also does not disclose feelings of fear or inadequacy to other men, but he will show more active emotions like joy or anger.

Honestly, whenever I feel like writing Arthur, I just think of the average older American outdoorsman and it helps me out pretty well. Chivalrous and respectful with expectations and a no bullshit attitude.

Hope this helps and happy writing 🫶🏼

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

[pumpkinpaix]

Hello! Feel free not to answer this question if it is in any way too much, but I've been wondering about something concerning the "western" mdzs fandom. Lately, i have seen multiple pieces of fanart that use what is clearly Christian symbolism and sometimes downright iconography in depicting the characters. I'm a european fan, but it still makes me vaguely uneasy. I know that these things are rarely easy to judge. I'm definitely not qualified to do so and was wondering if you have an opinion

Hi there! thank you for your patience and for the interesting question! I’ve been thinking about this since i received this ask because it?? idk, it’s difficult to answer, but it also touches on a a few things that I find really interesting.

the short answer: it’s complicated, and I also don’t know what I feel!

the longer answer:

i think that this question is particularly difficult to answer because of how deeply christianity is tied to the western art and literary canon. so much of what is considered great european art is christian art! If you just take a quick glance at wiki’s page on european art, you can see how inextricable christianity is, and how integral christian iconography has been in the history of european art. If you study western art history, you must study christian imagery and christian canon because it’s just impossible to engage with a lot of the work in a meaningful way without it. that’s just the reality of it.

Christianity, of course, also has a strong presence in european colonial and imperialist history and has been used as a tool of oppression against many peoples and nations, including China. I would be lying if I said I had a good relationship with Christianity--I have always faced it with a deep suspicion because I think it did some very, very real damage, not just to chinese people, but to many cultures and peoples around the world, and that’s not a trauma that can be easily brushed aside or reconciled with.

here is what is also true: my maternal grandmother was devoutly christian. my aunt is devoutly christian. my uncle’s family is devoutly christian. my favorite cousin is devoutly christian. when I attended my cousin’s wedding, he had both a traditional chinese ceremony (tea-serving, bride-fetching, ABSURDLY long reception), and also a christian ceremony in a church. christianity is a really important part of his life, just as it’s important to my uncle’s family, and as it was important to my grandmother. I don’t think it’s my right or place to label them as simply victims of a colonialist past--they’re real people with real agency and choice and beliefs. I think it would be disrespectful to act otherwise.

that doesn’t negate the harm that christianity has done--but it does complicate things. is it inherently a bad thing that they’re christian, due to the political history of the religion and their heritage? that’s... not a question I’m really interested in debating. the fact remains that they are christian, that they are chinese, and that they chose their religion.

so! now here we are with mdzs, a chinese piece of media that is clearly Not christian, but is quickly gaining popularity in euroamerican spaces. people are making fanart! people are making A LOT of fanart! and art is, by nature, intertextual. a lot of the most interesting art (imo) makes deliberate use of that! for example (cyan art nerdery time let’s go), Nikolai Ge’s What is Truth?

I love this painting! it’s notable for its unusual depiction of christ: shabby, unkempt, slouched, in shadow. if you look for other paintings of this scene, christ is usually dignified, elegant, beautiful, melancholy -- there’s something very humanizing and humbling about this depiction, specifically because of the way it contrasts the standard. it’s powerful because we as the audience are expected to be familiar with the iconography of this scene, the story behind it, and its place in the christian canon.

you can make similar comments about Gentileschi’s Judith vs Caravaggio’s, or Manet’s Olympia vs Ingres’ Grande Odalisque -- all of these paintings exist in relation to one another and also to the larger canon (i’m simplifying: you can’t just compare one to another directly in isolation etc etc.) Gauguin’s Jacob Wrestling the Angel is also especially interesting because of how its portrayal of its content contrasts to its predecessors!

or! because i’m really In It now, one of my favorite paintings in the world, Joan of Arc by Bastien-Lepage:

I just!!! gosh, idk, what’s most interesting to me in this painting is the way it seems to hover between movements: the hyperrealistic, neoclassical-esque take on the figure, but the impressionistic brushstrokes of the background AAA gosh i love it so much. it’s really beautiful if you ever get a chance to see it in person at the Met. i’m putting this here both because i personally just really like it and also as an example of how intertextuality isn’t just about content, but also about visual elements.

anyways, sorry most of this is 19thc, that was what i studied the most lol.

(a final note: if you want to read about a really interesting painting that sits in the midst of just a Lot of different works, check out the wiki page on Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa, specifically under “Interpretation and Legacy”)

this is all a really long-winded way of getting to this point: if you want to make allusory fanart of mdzs with regards to western art canon, you kind of have to go out of your way to avoid christian imagery/iconography, especially when that’s the lens through which a lot of really intensely emotional art was created. many of my favorite paintings are christian: Vrubel’s Demon, Seated, Perov’s Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, Ge’s Conscience, Judas, Bastien-Lepage’s Joan of Arc, as shown above. that’s not to say there ISN’T plenty of non-christian art -- but christian art is very prominent and impossible to ignore.

so here are a few pieces of fanwork that I’ve seen that are very clearly making allusions to christian imagery:

1. this beautiful pietà nielan by tinynarwhals on twitter

2. a lovely jiang yanli as our lady of tears by @satuwilhelmiina

3. my second gif in this set here, which I will also show below:

i’m only going to talk about mine in depth because well, i know exactly what i was thinking when I put this gif together while I can’t speak for anyone else.

first: the two lines of the song that I wanted to use for lan xichen were “baby, I’m a fighter//in the robes of a saint” because i felt that they fit him very well. of course, just the word “saint” evokes catholicism, even if it’s become so entwined in the english language that it’s taken on a secular meaning as well.

second: when I saw this scene, my immediate thought was just “PIETÀ!!” because LOOK at that composition! lan xichen’s lap! nie mingjue lying perpendicular to it! the light blue/white/silver of lan xichen in contrast to the darker robes of both nie mingjue and meng yao! not just that, but the very cool triangular structure of the image is intensely striking, and Yes, i Do love that it simultaneously ALSO evokes deposition of christ vibes. (baxia as the cross.... god..... is that not the Tightest Shit) does this make meng yao joseph of arimathea? does it make him john the evangelist? both options are equally interesting, I think when viewed in relation to his roles in the story: as a spy in qishan and as nmj’s deputy. maybe he’s both.

anyways, did I do this intentionally? yes, though a lot of it is happy accident/discovered after the fact since I’m relying on CQL to have provided the image. i wanted to draw attention to all of that by superimposing that line over that image! (to be clear: I didn’t expect it to all come through because like. that’s ridiculous. the layers you’d have to go through to get from “pretty lxc gifset” --> “if we cast nie mingjue as a christ figure, what is the interesting commentary we could do on meng yao by casting him as either joseph of arimathea or john the evangelist” are like. ok ur gonna need to work a little harder than slapping a song lyric over an image to achieve an effect like that.)

the point of this is: yes, it’s intentionally christian, yes I did this, yes I am casting these very much non-christian characters into christian roles for this specific visual work -- is this okay?

I obviously thought it was because I made it. but would I feel the same about a work that was written doing something similar? probably not. I think that would make me quite uncomfortable in most situations. but there’s something about visual art that makes it slightly different that I have trouble articulating -- something about how the visual often seeks to illustrate parallels or ideas, whereas writing characters as a different religion can fundamentally change who those characters are, the world they inhabit, etc. in a more... invasive?? way. that’s still not quite right, but I genuinely am not sure how to explain what i mean! I hope the general idea comes across. ><

something else to think about is like, what are pieces I find acceptable and why?

what makes the pieces above that reference christian imagery different than this stunning nieyao piece by @cyandemise after klimt’s kiss? (warnings for like, dead bodies and vague body horror) like i ADORE this piece (PLEASE click for fullview it’s worth it for the quality). it’s incredibly beautiful and evocative and very obviously references a piece of european art. I have no problem with it. why? because it isn’t explicitly christian? it’s still deeply entrenched in western canon. klimt certainly made other pieces that were explicit christian references.

another piece I’d like to invite you all to consider is this incredible naruto fanart of sakura and ino beheading sasuke after caravaggio’s judith. (warnings for beheading, blood, etc. you know.) i also adore this piece! i think it’s very good both technically and conceptually. the reference that it makes has a real power when viewed in relation to the roles of the characters in their original story -- seeing the women that sasuke fucked over and treated so disrespectfully collaborating in his demise Says Something. this is also!! an explicitly christian reference made with non-christian japanese characters. is this okay? does it evoke the same discomfort as seeing mdzs characters being drawn with christian iconography? why or why not?

the point is, I don’t think there’s a neat answer, but I do think there are a lot of interesting issues surrounding cultural erasure/hegemony that are raised by this question. i don’t think there are easy resolutions to any of them either, but I think that it’s a good opportunity to reexamine our own discomfort and try and see where it comes from. all emotions are valid but not all are justified etc. so I try to ask, is it fair? do i apply my criticisms and standards equally? why or why not? does it do real harm, or do i just not like it? what makes one work okay and another not?

i’ve felt that there’s a real danger with the kind of like, deep moral scrutiny of recent years in quashing interesting work in the name of fear. this morality tends to be expressed in black and white, good and bad dichotomies that i really do think stymies meaningful conversation and progress. you’ll often see angry takes that boil down to things like, “POC good, queer people good, white people bad, christianity bad” etc. without a serious critical examination of the actual issues at hand. I feel that these are extraordinarily harmful simplifications that can lead to an increased insularity that isn’t necessarily good for anyone. there’s a fine line between asking people to stay in their lane and cultural gatekeeping sometimes, and I think that it’s something we should be mindful of when we’re engaging in conversations about cultural erasure, appropriation etc.

PERHAPS IT IS OBVIOUS that I have no idea where that line falls LMAO since after all that rambling I have given you basically nothing. but! I hope that you found it interesting at least, and that it gives you a bit more material to think on while you figure out where you stand ahaha.

was this just an excuse to show off cool (fan)art i like? maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(ko-fi)

[cherryblossomriot]

i had a dream the other day that was basically a dinluke cowboy au and it has been HAUNTING me, so just allow me to deposit it upon you like my subconscious drop kicked it onto me:

Luke is a disabled veteran who has returned from war one hand lighter and several scars heavier. When he returns, his family, who are heavily involved in the politics/military of this fictional land, don’t understand his now jaded and melancholic view of both the world, but also the ideologies that they so strongly believe in, leading him to constantly feel like an outcast even among the people that he so dearly loves. They’re all passionate and strong-willed, but they still don’t understand, not his struggles with mental health or his new perspective, and it just makes things worse and worse and worse. Anakin is a general, and though he’s seen the gruesomeness of war firsthand, he’s also become desensitized to it and has anger-management issues, so he often almost finds a sort of refuge within the chaos of battle, so he clearly cannot even fathom the emotions and trauma that Luke is trying to sort through, much less know how to deal with them properly. Padme is a senator and cares deeply about the crimes and seemingly senseless violence occurring during the war, but she’s also a politician and knows how to play the long game, so when Luke comes to her, he leaves feeling misunderstood and pushed aside. Leia is the only one who seemingly understands, as the pair of them have a deep, intrinsic bond, but she doesn’t fully grasp Luke’s moods and doesn’t handle his breakdowns and flashbacks well. So everyone feels a little upset, a little unsettled, and a lot like they don’t understand why and how Luke has changed, which leads to Luke feeling more and more out of place within his own family. The war ends relatively soon after Luke’s return, which leads to parades which leads to awards which leads to balls and banquets, all of which Luke is forced to attend, his heart dragging but his head held high, because he’s an Amidala-Skywalker goddammit, and we have a certain responsibility and image to maintain to the public and everyone who endured so much. So Luke has to sit there through awards and boasts of glory and mentions of battle scars and it goes on and on and on, and he has to smile and bear it and accept the medal that they’re giving him because he did such a great service to his country and-he has a panic attack. A nasty one that leads to him having to flee from a ballroom, and outside to the gardens. Once he’s there, he realizes that he doesn’t want to go back in. At all. So he runs away. He just picks a direction and goes, stealing a car on the way (this is a modern au but also fictional countries because I don’t want to get into real politics, hooo boy no siree). In the middle of nowhere, he gets caught in a storm and basically crashes his car and passes out. 

But when he wakes up! That’s when the fun begins. 

He’s in this cozy sort of bedroom, and this hot guy is fast asleep in the chair beside his bed, and is that a little kid in his lap? Anyway, the hot guy wakes up, introduces himself as Din Djarin in the softest, most attractive voice Luke has ever heard with his own two ears, and doesn’t ask him where he’s from or what he was doing driving in the middle of bumfuck nowhere at 3 in the morning, so Luke is obligated to have a lil crush on him, even though he’s not sure about the kid. So he asks, and Din introduces him to his son Grogu, who waves at him and signs hello, because, as Din explains, he doesn’t speak much, and the foster system wasn’t too kind to him, so he’s got a little bit of trauma to work through. And Luke just, instantly falls in love with this soft dad and his cute little son who can shift his features from the biggest, most pleading puppy eyes ever to the face of a demented gremlin who will try to eat the frog he caught in the backyard, no matter how slimy it is, or how hard it tries to wriggle out of his hands. Din tells Luke that he can stay for however long he needs, because Luke’s kinda injured from his accident, and anyway, once he’s healed up, they always could use another hand on the farm. So Luke stays, and he meets all of Din’s other farm hands (and shitty friends). There’s Boba, who doesn’t talk much, but when he does it’s always something slightly ominous and menacing, and Luke thinks that his name sounds familiar...hey wasn’t he on the news for robbing a couple banks a few years back?...no, surely not..., Fennec, who speaks even less than Boba, and manages to be far, far more intimidating, but also helps Luke with his prosthetic and gives him fun little tips that always sound more like she’s cut off a lot more limbs than she’s lost. Cara Dune (who is not gina carano but i digress) is also there, and she’s just constantly a harbinger of chaos, but will babysit Grogu whenever Din wants to brood and stare longingly into the distance (or at Luke who’s also brooding as the sun sets but shhh). Bo-Katan and the gang are there, and while Bo-Katan grumbles about how the old ranch boss had different/better methods on how to run things, she still follows Din’s lead and helps him with the finances and taxes. They all take to Luke like a wildfire, because Luke is a sunshine boy who can make friends with literally anyone and somehow manages to make Din not only smile but laugh, but also because they can tell he’s got a lot of trauma and pain bubbling just under the surface, and they all silently but collectively agreed a long time ago that they are the patron saints of troubled and lost souls. 

When Luke gets better and starts to help out, he’s constantly upset with himself because he used to help out at his aunt and uncle’s farm in the summers when he was a kid, and he knows how to do this stuff, but his prosthetic is really throwing him off and his body has sustained a lot of other injuries that make doing manual labor a much more different experience than it used to be, but everyone is really patient with him and helps him out, especially Din. At one point, Din is so nice that Luke just loses it, because he doesn’t understand how Din can be so kind and so patient, and care about him so much, and kind of calls himself broken and useless in front of Din, and Din gets super protective and grabs his hands (real and prosthetic) and tells him that he’s not broken or useless, and you’re so sweet and wonderful, and can’t you see? Ever since you’ve been here, everyone’s been so much happier, so much lighter. You’ve brought something precious to us, but most of all to me. And they’re standing really close and for a second Luke thinks Din is going to kiss him, but instead, Luke realizes that he’s crying, and Din just wraps his arms around him and holds him.

After that, time sort of blurs, marked by things like Grogu climbing into Luke’s bed because he sensed that he was having a nightmare, and Din waking up to find the pair of them coloring in a serene silence, Luke getting the hang of ranch life and his prosthetic and dealing with his panic attacks and flashbacks as they come, and Din enduring relentless badgering from his friends because hey, if you don’t marry Luke, I will and Fennec, you’re a lesbian and that doesn’t matter, it’ll be a marriage of twink and butch solidarity. And all the while, Din and Luke are spinning closer and closer towards each other, two suns hurtling in their orbit to the other with an inescapable certainty. 

When it finally happens, they’ve just gotten back from one of those cowboy dances (idk what they’re called...hoedowns? yeah okay) (and yes, I wanted to hit all of the cliches in the book, thank you very much), and Grogu’s fallen fast asleep on Luke’s shoulder. After they tuck him up all snug in his bed, they head out to the porch, because it’s raining outside, and the steady thrum of water droplets splattering on the roof and on the grass is the most soothing sound Luke has ever heard (aside from Din’s voice), and he’s a little too afraid to go to sleep and ruin his perfect night with a nightmare. They stand there for a while, silence binding them together, shoulders brushing every now and then, hesitant and questioning. Luke thinks about how Din had asked him to dance earlier, his lips tilted in a teasing, but achingly soft smile, and how his heart had pounded a tattoo to the shape of his ribs when they’d pushed up so close together, the fast, rowdy dances of the beginning of the night having faded to something lasting, something meaningful. Luke remembers the ball he’d run away from, how the dancing had been cold, almost jeering in a way, and Luke realizes how far he’s come, how different it is here. And suddenly, there isn’t a question in his mind anymore. He turns toward Din, who turns toward him, and when he leans forward, Din breathes an uncertain “Luke-”, but he doesn’t get to finish the thought. Luke kisses him, and he kisses back, and it’s just them. There are hands in hair and noses nudged together, and at some point, they move, without either of them releasing the other, into the house and into Din’s bedroom. Buttons are unbuttoned, and whole stretches of skin are kissed, and when it’s over, they curl up together, Din tucking his head into the crook of Luke’s neck and falling asleep there. 

When they wake up, Luke explains why he came here, why he ran away, all the while Din looks at him with his beautiful dark eyes and runs his hands through Luke’s hair, which is catching the sunlight filtering in through the window and making him look like he has a halo, all the while never once condemning him for keeping it a secret this whole time. After he’s finished, he expects some sort of shocked reaction-after all, his family’s pretty famous, but all Din does is kiss him and ask, “Wait, so you have a twin?” 

It’s so unexpected that Luke throws his head back and bursts into uncontrollable, and very contagious peals of laughter, and when he’s finally able to breathe again, he kisses Din’s forehead and murmurs, “I love you.” 

Din, who has been touch starved and lonely for years (no time for relationships when you’ve got a business to run and a toddler to raise), tears up and kisses him, too overwhelmed for words. But Luke understands.  

And then Grogu pushes his way into the room holding up a box of Frosted Flakes above his head and shaking it, as if to say, I’d like to eat now, please. 

Din and Luke stifle their smiles into the other’s shoulder, and when they get up, Luke can’t help but think that he’s finally where he belongs.

----

It takes approximately .5 seconds for all the others to figure out they’re together now, and Cara and Bo-Katan (of all people) start cheering immediately, to Din and Luke’s shock. Boba and Fennec grumble and begrudgingly hand over a huge wad of cash each to Cara and Bo-Katan because they thought it would take them at least another two weeks to get together. Din’s very done with his friends at this point, but he takes one look at Luke’s flustered but smiling face and decides he won’t kill them all this time. 

And if everyone thought Luke was a lot of excitement for a humble ranch in the middle of nowhere, then they are in no way, shape, or form, prepared for when his very angry twin sister shows up with a himbo with a shit-eating grin and his 7 foot tall best friend she hired to track her brother down. 

(needless to say, Boba punches Han within two minutes of interaction).

[crymeariveronceagain]

Keefe when he sees artworks. Like when they went to Italy in book 4

uhm HECK YEAH

Also here's your soundtrack for this little snippit because it really needs this idk why.

There's nothing like impressionism to put an emotional empath artist through the wringer.

How do you explain how the world feels on an emotional level? How do you show anyone what you actually see? How do you explain the sheer emotion in every single thing in the world, the marks of feeling, the marks of living, the marks of breathing that are entrenched in every breath he breathes?

He's never been able to, before. Elven art is like a photograph. There's no depth. No breadth. No height. No feeling. It's just reality, captured, pressed into a page, hung up on a wall. Creativity doesn't belong in art. Why put feeling into art when you can capture reality?

Reality is better than anything your mind could invent, one of his art teachers once said to him, gently as they could. Don't make things up. Paint what you see. Keefe had burned that art project with tears in his eyes.

Reality was what he had painted, he'd whispered, but it was a reality that only he could feel. A reality only he could capture. A reality that only existed for him, that must not be really real if he was the only one who could see it. If no one else feels that reality is like what you feel, then you must just... be wrong.

Keefe hadn't wanted to believe that he was wrong. But he couldn't not. No one else, not even other empaths felt the world like he did, no one else found it so lived in, so emotion-haunted, so full of feeling and life and breath. No one else wanted to.

But when his eyes see that Van Gogh, they light up. His eyes are wide, he's trying to see it all at once, absorb it, take it in. He can't breathe, it looks like how he sees the world. It looks real, full, like someone took color and took the world and pushed their entire soul into the work. It looks like everything he's ever wanted to do. Everything he's ever wanted to see.

It's not even that special, he thinks to himself. It's just... warm. Soft. Happy. He can tell. It screams of feeling, screams of life. It is a lived-in painting. It isn't perfection. It is meant to capture the exact feeling of what it was looking at. The painter, the artist, the genius, was feeling, when he made that art. Keefe could tell. Every stroke of paint, thick and meaningful, felt like an emotion that Keefe could feel.

He grabs Sophie's hand. She turns to look at him. Tiny tears are glittering on his eyelashes.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

He shakes his head, still looking, not wanting to blink. "Nothing," he said, softly. "If I blink, it will disappear."

"No it won't," she answered. "It's real."

He shook his head. "Art doesn't look like that outside of your head," he whispered.

Sophie held his hand up to her lips, and pressed one gentle kiss to it. "Yes it does," she answered, softly.

Keefe's eyebrows squinched, slightly, like he almost didn't understand.

"Do you want to look at more?"

He barely could speak. "There's more?"

Sophie smiled, softly. "Yeah," she answered. She tightened her grip on his hand, softly. "Come on."

The two of them walked quietly through the museum, and Keefe would occasionally just jerk to a halt, staring into a painting as though he could read an entire lifetime behind it. Eventually, Sophie's curiosity got the better of her. "What's so special?" she asked.

Keefe looked at her, his eyes tinged red. "It looks how it feels," he answered. "That's what emotions look like."

Sophie blinked, softly, looking at the Monet painting that stretched before them. It was green and warm all at once.

"Is it?" she whispered, softly. Keefe nodded, not able to pull his eyes away.

"That's what the world looks like to you?"

Keefe shook his head. "That's what the world feels like to me."

She looked at his blue eyes, where they looked at the paintings as though they held every secret of the world. Maybe for him, she thought, looking at the only boy she loved more than life itself, they did.

He can't walk away, sometimes.

Van Gogh always hits him where it hurts. Sophie stays by his side while he cries in a museum. "It's okay," she whispers.

"It's real," he says, as though nothing will ever be more real than art that just pictures a reality that only he has ever felt. There are emotions in everything, he tells her, quietly, as they wander. There are emotions to everything. It's not important how they got there, he says, there's life in everything. There's a little lived-ness in everything. It burns in his chest, he tells her. This is what the world feels like.

He didn't know anyone else could ever feel it that way, either. He didn't know someone could capture the exact reality of feelings with nothing but paint and color.

He kisses his girlfriend's forehead. She holds his hand as his reality shatters with a new way of seeing.

How is he ever supposed to look away?

This is his reality. And he's never seen it so clearly and wholly before.

If you walk through a museum sometime, and see a boy crying in the impressionist gallery, don't be surprised. He didn't know you could paint what the world felt like. He's doing his best. Leave him be. He'll move along when he can tear his eyes away from an image that feels more real than any other work of art he's ever seen.

[hexfloog]

So, ShinRan: think there's any way in hell it could actually work, even without the whole Conan thing?

Ehheh, so... a disclaimer: my brain is not really wired to think about ships or romance in general, and it's never been something I've devoted much thought to in any franchise, really. Idk if this is because I'm aro af or what and just don't have a radar for it (uncomfirmed), but I can think of a grand total of like two ships I actively enjoy... across all my fandoms. Mad respect for people who can put thoughtful effort into analyzing that sort of thing beyond surface-level cuteness (which is where I mostly stand on this), so that said, my thoughts on any kind of ship-- even ShinRan-- are incredibly scant, and at this point in time I subscribe to it mostly because it's overtly canon.

I think, subconsciously, I HC Shinichi as ace/heteroromantic. But he's a teenager, there's a lot of people who don't really know where they stand at that age and he's so engrossed in his passions (cough, work) outside of his personal life that he also probably just doesn't really know much in the way of intimacy outside of Ran, what with his absentee (also laissez-faire) parents and otherwise few friends. And even what he does know, I think, amounts to very little. In short, I think he's inexperienced and it translates to shaky ground on which to base my observations.*

*In all fairness, this is a bit hard for me to gauge as most of their interactions prior to Conan are told in flashback and simultaneously framed by both Ran and the show's narrative to keep Shinichi centered as the Hero... some conflicts of interest exist there, I think. Is Ran really just naïve, or is the narrative trying to justify Shinichi's sometimes tactlessness behavior for the sake of the audience?

Just in general though, I'm not a huge fan of the childhood sweetheart setup for a romantic relationship. It makes for some cute, fluffy content for sure, but as a healthy couple I think they would need more time to work things out-- which they won't have until the whole Conan thing resolves itself, honestly. He (Conan) does need to go before any real progress can be made; The Whole Situation is just such a huge hindrance to anything they could feasibly make progress on together for a variety of reasons... like being forced to communicate in secret all the time, to say the least. Personally, I even believe that the few times he's able to appear to her in his own body are even more damaging than if he just... didn't. The usual intent is to appease Ran's suspicions, yes? But... doesn't it end up being more detrimental than not? Like who else does he serve-- aside from scratching his own itch by proxy-- by transforming every now and then?

Speaking of Ran: I firmly believe she has some serious abandonment issues, caused by circumstances largely out of her control-- which Shinichi is absolutely not helping by being secretive all the time-- and I think what she really wants is stability, as a result. Her estranged parents forced her to grow up way too fast and even before Conan came under her wing she was already practically a young mother. (I just watched OVA 6, and it kinda hurt watching Shinichi flashback to watching her buy groceries growing up over the years, no doubt because Eri was no longer in the picture and Kogoro, the remaining parent, is Irresponsible.) She didn't choose that, this balancing act of keeping her father in check and trying to enjoy her youth, and if Shinichi is one of her only tethers to a way out of that, it's... not a particularly healthy setup to romance, imo. Maybe it's my complete lack of a shipping radar, maybe it's from personal experience, but I think that their relationship is less romantic at this stage and more "extremely good friends."

Anyway - you asked if I think it would work, and... Maybe? To us, the viewers, it feels like an eternity has elapsed in the DC-verse, but canonically it's only been what, a year or so? Even absent the Conan Predicament, I don't think they've been an item-- or even seriously thinking of themselves as an item-- for long enough to really know for sure. Given that they only became official in the midst of *gestures wildly* All of This I think I'd be making an unfair verdict when they started at a huge disadvantage in the first place.

All that said about Ran - I also think her desire for normalcy is what keeps her waiting for Shinichi. I don't think she'd let that go anytime soon, and also what I think could drive her motivation to make it work. I'm slightly less confident about Shinichi; he clearly cares deeply for her, but the ways he goes about showing it (ahem, the Big Secret) seems misguided at times, not to speak of the apparent temptation to usurp her place in his priorities with his passions (ahem, How This Whole Thing Got Started).

As an aside... one of several things I constantly hope for is more meaningful dialogue over the phone. Since it's their only real avenue of communicating until further notice, it's a window into the potentially uncomfortable and a way for the more troubled parts of their relationship to be explored, but like many things in this show, the possibility is merely teased and not tread. An example which comes to mind is their brief conversation from Movie 2, when Ran is confiding in Shinichi over the possibility Kogoro may have taken a needlessly reckless risk in Eri's hostage situation (Funi dialogue below):

"Hey, Rachel. It's been a while." "Jimmy?" "Dr. Agasa told me what's going on with your dad. I'm really sorry." "Sorry doesn't keep people alive, Jimmy! We need your help, get back here right away!" "I can't, I'm backed up with cases of my own. I won't be back there for some time." [Defeated] "...Yeah." "Now don't be like that, Rachel. Dr. Agasa brought me up to speed on the entire case, so if I can figure anything out, I'll let you guys know, okay?" [Pause] "Jimmy... would you have shot... me?" "Huh?" "Now I know... that's why she left. She could never trust him not to put her in danger again." [Pause] "I heard about that case, also. Richard shot her." "It doesn't matter how sure of himself he was, he shouldn't... have put his wife in jeopardy like that. You wouldn't have fired the gun if it were me, would you, Jimmy?" "Come on, Rachel. Don't ask me things like that."

Honestly the fact that Kogoro/Eri and Shinichi/Ran's relationship is often paralleled, I especially find the above conversation really intriguing (the stuff in bold) and I wish it weren't cut short--

TL;DR I'm not well-tuned to analyze ships, but as both Shinichi and Ran are still teenagers and the Current Circumstances keep getting in the way of their relationship... I think the possibility still exists to make things work, in spite of my believing the foundation of 'childhood sweetheart' is a bit rocky.

[konglindorm]

White Bears

So the other day I was flipping through my Kay Nielsen-illustrated “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” collection with my mom, because she’d never seen the illustrations before, and they’re some of my favorites. And we weren’t actually reading the stories this time; we were just there to look at pretty pictures.

The book starts with the titular “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” and therefore some illustrations of white bears. And then we keep going through a few more pages, and suddenly there’s another illustration of a white bear, and at this point I’m thinking “oh, right, ‘White Bear King Valemon.’ Huh. It’s kinda strange that there would be two Norwegian enchanted bridegroom stories where the bridegroom is specifically a white bear.”

And then I flip to the next page, and, granted, at this time I haven’t read “White Bear King Valemon” in a few years, but the next illustration was not at all consistent with what I remembered. So I went back a few pages to discover that this set of white bear illustrations was actually for “The Blue Belt,” and this collection didn’t even include “White Bear King Valemon.”

So let’s talk today about the enchanted bridegroom subset “white bears in Norway.”

Now, the reason I'd forgotten about the white bear bit of "The Blue Belt" is that it's largely inconsequential, just another crazy element in a story packed with crazy. The main character is never actually turned into a bear, but does convincingly disguise himself as one to meet the princess he loves in secret, allowing him to collect insider information to win her hand. The main thing about this story is that, as irrelevant as his white bear disguise is to the plot as a whole, it has resulted in a couple of fantastic illustrations that can easily be used for bear-based enchanted bridegroom stories. But primarily we're here to talk about "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" and "White Bear King Valemon," which are very similar but also completely distinct stories. You can read all about "East-West" here, and this post will be mainly running through how "King Valemon" is different and why we care.

So first off, this is another of those stories where youngest kid is best kid and therefore wins, and specifically the kind of story where it's not something you really want to win - in this case, the right to be kidnapped by a polar bear. All three sisters are princesses, and the bear deemed the older two unworthy to be kidnapped, possibly because they had brains in their heads, which our girl does not seem to.

Bear whisks girl away to palace, joins her in bed at night in human form. And, okay. Remember how in "East of the Sun, West of the Moon," the girl and the enchanted bear have to share a bed for a year, and we really don't know exactly what all they're doing in that bed?

In "White Bear King Valemon," we know exactly what they're doing, and it's exactly what you think. She lives with the bear for three years, and in that time she has three babies. All of whom the bear whisks away immediately. Which, dude, yikes.

I mean, ambiguous bed-sharing with a stranger for one year is already a little, um...well. But getting knocked up by a stranger? Three times? And having all the babies kidnapped by the same white bear who kidnapped you? Who you may or may not have gathered by now is also the stranger who knocked you up? (My money's on not gathering that, because our girl doesn't strike me as the brightest, so far.) Again, yikes. I'm just, like, I'm at a loss for words. "Yikes" is all I've got, guys.

Why does she keep having sex with this man? Does she have a choice? Is this consensual? Why isn't she questioning this man about what on earth is going on here? Why is she not having an enormous fight with the bear and demanding her children back? Why is she allowing herself to become pregnant again when she knows that the baby is going to be taken away by the bear? What does she even think the bear is doing with the babies?

There comes a time when you just have to say, okay, either the sex stops or we explore period-appropriate alternatives to birth control, because I refuse to bring another child into this world to be eaten by a bear.

After three years and three stolen babies, the girl convinces the bear to let her visit home. Where her mom does the whole "You're doing what? With who? You haven't even seen his face?" bit, only she's even more justified in her concern than the East-West mom, because her daughter is reproducing​ with this man and then allowing her grandbabies to be taken away and possibly eaten by a talking bear​. Like, yes, mom, you tell her; she should absolutely be gathering more information about this situation. There is a time and a place to go with the flow, and that is not​ here and now, sweetheart.

So she goes back with the white bear and lights her little candle, and he wakes up when the tallow drips on him and acts like this is some great betrayal, and not the sensible thing she should have done two and a half years ago when she realized she was pregnant the first time.

He is, like in East-West, just one month from the curse being broken, and I would like to just take a moment to say that is not fair, the troll who cursed him is not playing by the rules, everyone knows the time frame in situations like this is a year and a day, what is this slightly over three years crap?

Bear switches from hot guy back to bear and runs off to where he's supposed to meet the troll or whatever, idk - the girl grabs his fur and tries to go with him, but falls off in the forest somewhere.

She does her best to catch up with him on foot, and on the way she meets three little girls, living with three old women, and each of these girls gives her a gift; these gifts are what she will trade to the troll for three nights with the white bear - well, with King Valemon, now that his bear-curse is over. He's drugged on the first two nights, and they can finally talk on the third, just like in East-West. But instead of Fun With Laundry, in this story they make a trap door for the troll to fall through when she's walking down the aisle. Which. Lame.

With the troll handled, King Valemon takes our girl home, but on the way we stop to collect the three little girls who helped her. Because those are their kids, who he, get this, "had taken so they could aid in her quest." The quest that didn't exist yet at the time, because he hadn't been taken by the troll yet, and had no reason yet to suspect that she would look at his face - I mean, the girl was having babies with him and not bothering about the face, so I would have considered it a safe bet that she would continue not bothering, and taking the babies was definitely overkill.

Also, like. She lived with him for three years and had three babies. After three years, she visits her parents, and then she looks at him with the candle; this all seems to happen pretty quickly. Which means the oldest girl might, maybe, possibly be as old as three, but probably she's younger. We should have an age range of infant to toddler here. And yet all three are described as little girls, not babies, and all three seem able to effectively communicate. So that's a bit of a plot hole. Gotta love timeline inconsistency.

In conclusion: "East of the Sun, West of the Moon"? Beautiful, meaningful story, perfect, magnificent, 25 out of ten. "White Bear King Valemon?" Garbage story full of garbage characters who make garbage decisions, not worth the paper it's printed on, only redeeming feature is mom not putting up with her daughter's absolute idiocy.

[teruthecreator]

okay everyone shut up leave me alone Jack Frost (1979) maplekeene au under the readmore i have to get it out of my head or else i won’t be able to sleep

argo is jack frost bc blue skin and desire to be seen/appreciated by others. they call him “jack frost” bc of the original bearer of the title--jackal--who they nicknamed jack frost

jackal retired from the position of going down to the human world and making sure winter happens, and then argo picks up the position 

father winter is hieronymous bc it’s a bigass dude with a beard like. c’mon. EITHER THAT or its mother winter so it could be shebrie. i haven’t thought deeply about this part 

snip is hieronmyous and holly is firbolg. they both know far too well about argo’s obsession w the human world and its inhabitants 

elisa is fitzroy but his motivations and personality are completely different (since elisa suffers from Female Rankin/Bass Love Interest Disease). 

he isn’t outwardly “in love” with winter and jack frost more than he just enjoys the season because of the freedom it allows. it is also the season his mother enjoyed the most (in past tense bc in this one...she dies! for good reason i’ll explain). he does kinda “talk” to jack frost a lot, since he hasn’t got many friends and he quite enjoys walking around the woods alone. this is how argo comes to know and become slightly enamored with his mortal lad (i say mortal bc i’m still working w the fantasy races--aka a good excuse for argo to keep his blue skin) 

kubla kraus is the commodore. big asshole man with a beard. controls everything by being a lying, cheating, evil bastard. has no friends. yeah that’s him alright

sir ravenal rightfellow is buckminster!! and his importance to the plot is Completely Different from the movie. i will explain now: 

okay so PLOT is that argo is jack frost, the winter spirit who comes to nua (aka january junction) to make sure winter runs smoothly. he is fairly new at this job (the original jack frost being jackal, who has now retired in the land of the winter where all the winter spirits live. he’s sorta argo’s mentor in jack frosting and warns argo not to get too attached to the mortals, but argo’s heart is simply too kind for that to not happen. 

argo develops a very deep love for mortals and their mortal ways, but is saddened by the fact that he cannot participate in their fun. winter and winter again, he returns to this poor village and gives them the means of living and joy, but he can’t even reveal himself to them!!! because he’s a winter spirit and mortals cannot see winter spirits. so it leaves argo feeling sorta dejected, even as he continues to watch the mortals he’s grown so fond of

fitzroy, on the other hand, is a native to this village. imma just call it January Junction bc i like that name a lot. he grew up here with his mother and father (though his father very quickly excused himself from the picture because i hate stable fathers <3). fitzroy and his mother are as poor as anyone else in the village--which is to say Very Very Poor since kubla commodore owns all the money and supplies in january junction. then, when fitzroy is about 13 or so, his mother suddenly falls ill and dies. before she passes away, she tells fitzroy that there’s documents in the kingdom about a week’s travel (by horse) away that he’ll “need when he’s older”. 

for a very long time, fitzroy doesn’t know what that means

in any case, he ends up being taken in by gordie and his husband to grow up with rainer, his childhood friend. though he eventually becomes acquainted with other kids around january junction that he hadn’t really socialized with before (buckminster and leon, rolandus, zana, rhodes), he finds himself more inclined to solitude. 

especially during the winter, the season when his mother passed away

despite the sadness of it all, fitzroy doesn’t find himself so glum when he’s out amongst the woods. winter is just so...beautiful. almost ethereal. he’s known about the myth of “Jack Frost” for years, so he begins just...talking to him. well, “talking”, since jack frost isn’t Real. 

once argo becomes jack frost (right around when the two are like. idk 18), though, he becomes the recipient of these rants. 

that’s when argo’s infatuation with mortals becomes a very deep desire. not bc he’s like In Love w fitzroy or anything (not yet), but because he feels like he really has a friend in fitzroy!!! someone is out there who actually cares about him!!! and talks to him about things!!! even if argo has no way of responding

so one year (aka the year the movie takes place) argo is especially despondent about this, when kubla commodore nearly kills fitzroy in his ignorance 

if you’ve never seen the movie, kubla kraus rides a mechanical horse onto a frozen lake and nearly kills elisa by making the ice crack and send her careening towards a waterfall. assume that happens here 

argo saves fitzroy by freezing over the waterfall and fitzroy exclaims “oh, jack frost, where would i be without you?” sorta just like an exclamation. but argo takes this to heart. where Would fitzroy be without him?? he’s been around this guy for so many years!!! hearing him vent about not being able to afford knight school, losing his own dream while buckminster and rolandus run off to live it for him. offering him advice (that fitzroy cannot hear) when fitzroy expresses how much he Hates doing manual labor for no pay. even being a (frozen) “shoulder” to cry on when the grief becomes too much! 

and where would Argo be without fitzroy??? the man has practically become the sole reason argo gets excited for winter anymore, and he worries about the half-elf the whole year after. 

so argo makes a decision that day, heads back up to the winter realm in the clouds, and begs father winter to let him become mortal 

father winter is, of course, Not willing to let argo do that because he knows how mortals can be. argo argues that it isn’t fair that he has to spend the rest of his eternity watching these mortals live, get older, fall in love, and appreciate his work--all while he just watches silently, unloved, in the background

father winter is moved by this and grants argo mortality for One Winter under this condition: if argo cannot find One literal reason to remain mortal, then he shall return to his spirit form. 

(this is a slight divergence to the original condition of “you must obtain a house, a horse, a bag of gold, and a wife” bc i’m modernizing it slightly okay it’s not just abt marriage now) 

argo is confused by the wording, so father winter goes on to give him examples: finding a job that is meaningful, finding a person who loves him, etc. and then argo is off 

before he leaves, he says goodbye to higglemas (also known as “snip” since he makes the snowflakes) and the firbolg. snips gives him his lucky pair of scissors that have the word “snip” etched into the side of them. yes this will be important 

argo goes back down to earth, becomes a mortal, and crash lands in the woods where fitzroy is

fitzroy is slightly baffled to see just a random stranger in the middle of the woods, but the dude seems lost and Very confused so fitzroy offers to warm him up and help him out back in january junction. fitzroy lives in a sorta commune situation with leon, rainer and zana (they’re engaged), rhodes, and rolandus and buckminster (whenever they come home). the group welcomes argo in warmly and argo finds himself feeling right at home with this crowd of early-to-mid-twenty-year-olds 

argo almost introduces himself as jack frost--as he is known by myth--but catches himself before he can reveal that. he calls himself “argo snip” (bc of the scissors and the fact that his name is actually argo), a tailor in need of business. rainer--a seamstress herself--is more than happy to have someone else in the town to work on fabrics with, and the shop that rainer runs in the house expands to allow argo’s tailoring business

while this is happening, father winter tells higgs and firbolg that they have to go down there and make sure argo doesn’t die. so now they’re human and they end up finding argo at the house. higglemas introduces himself as higglemas wiggenstaff, and the firbolg just doesn’t say anything and lets argo come up with the name “bud holly”. they are now Also tailors, which is good bc argo cannot sew. 

for the few months of winter, argo enjoys life in january junction quite a bit. though things are kinda bleak, since kubla commodore owns all the gold, the town keeps itself in high spirits during the winter. argo and fitzroy Especially end up bonding during this time, and fitzroy’s solitary walks through the woods soon find themselves one additional member. 

this is about the time where argo realizes “ah fuck, i think i’m in love with this fool”, which is when he realizes the One Meaningful Thing he’s meant to live on the mortal world for: fitzroy

fitzroy, meanwhile, also finds strange feelings developing for the eccentric genasi. but he’s a lot more emotionally constipated, so he won’t say much about it yet. 

it’s a few days before christmas and argo and fitzroy are talking alone--the house empty for some reason (a rarity but a blessing). fitzroy is embroidering something that argo’s recently sewn as they talk, and he accidentally pricks himself with the needle. argo immediately reaches out and cradles his hand, which is when fitzroy notices for the very first time just how Cold argo is. argo laughs it off and claims that it’s bc he’s “cold-blooded” but fitzroy just sorta laughs and goes “i never said i minded...” 

for some reason, this causes argo to look up at fitzroy, and the two realize how close they’ve gotten since argo grabbed fitzroy’s hand. the two are flushed, nervous, but argo dares to move forward to finally capture those lips in a--

BANG! the door flies open as a shorter man, clad in gold armor, stands in the doorway. fitzroy jumps up--first startled, then elated--as he realizes Sir Buckminster Eden has finally returned home!!! 

argo reads this reaction the Entirely Wrong Way and is instantly jealous of buckminster. poor, poor idiot doesn’t realize buckminster and rolandus have been doing circles around each other since they were teenagers...

then it’s christmas!!! everyone’s too poor for gifts so they hand out invisible ones (like the movie), but buckminster has an Actual gift for fitzroy (which argo, again, takes the completely Wrong Way). the gift is a sealed parcel from the royal parliament, instructing that fitzroy Cannot open it until he is 24 years of age. fitzroy’s birthday just so happens to be the day after christmas, and somebody is Very Aware of this fact...

...that person? oh, it’s kubla commodore, of course! who kidnaps fitzroy later on that day when his guard is down. kubla commodore throws fitzroy in a dungeon and keeps the parcel amongst his many piles of gold, determined to keep its contents away from the one intended to see them

argo finds out about the kidnapping and the whole group is sprung into action to save fitzroy. but, since argo has none of his winter magic, he isn’t really able to be the help he wants to be. buckminster--having knight training--is able to scale the mountain quicker than argo, fight off the k-nights, and break fitzroy out of the dungeon. 

argo doesn’t know this because he attempts to scale the mountain from the other side with higgs and firbolg, where he is captured by the remaining k-nights. now They’re locked in the dungeon as kubla commodore vows to send a thousand k-nights down to january junction to “wipe out the insubordinates” 

argo has no way of breaking out of the dungeon because he has no magic. so, in a moment of desperation, he calls back to father winter to turn him back into a winter spirit. he returns to his jack frost form--which is incorporeal--and begins to freeze over kubla commodore’s castle (try saying that five times fast)

with argo back as a spirit, higgs and firby aren’t needed as mortals, so they return to the land of winter to do their winter work

meanwhile, in january junction, fitzroy is Freaking Out that they can’t find argo in this freak blizzard. he tries venturing out into the tundra himself, but buckminster and the gang holds him back, telling the half-elf that they’ll look for argo when the storm clears 

oops, the storm doesn’t clear! because argo keeps up the insane blizzard for the duration of winter (though he focuses a majority of the intense weather on the castle to seal kubla commodore inside). eventually, though, father winter notifies argo that spring is soon approaching. argo is like “why” and father winter explains: “okay so basically a tiny useless groundhog comes out of his hole every year and if he sees his shadow then winter dies immediately” 

who’s the groundhog? why, it’s Gotta-Go Gary!! who argo scares the living shit out of to make 6 more weeks of winter happen

after the extended 6 weeks are up, father winter tells argo that winter will end at noon on that final day. argo is like “if winter ends, then kubla commodore is going to Kill Everyone” and he bargains with father winter to be mortal once more (since he Still has till the end of winter to find his One Meaningful Thing) to set things right. 

he goes back down, defeats kubla commodore (too much to explain, shenanigans is how i can describe it best), and realizes he has everything he could possibly ever Need now to offer fitzroy in exchange for his hand in marriage

you see, argo learned during his time as a mortal that marriages have dowries? and now he suddenly has a castle, a horse, and all the town’s gold in his possession so that seems dowry enough. also he thinks marriage is the only option to prove to father winter that Love is a meaningful thing enough to be mortal for 

however, when he finally gets to january junction, he sees...a wedding?? who’s getting married?? and then he sees buckminster in his suit of armor, looking rather pleased with himself, and argo immediately assumes that buck and fitz are getting hitched 

he storms over there and rants at buck about how He’s the one in love with fitzroy and how much He sacrificed to ensure fitzroy’s safety and happiness. and buckminster is like “woah, woah, woah, friend!!! one, uhhhh where the Fuck have you been??? two, rainer and zana are getting married dawg. fitzroy is right over there, helping rainer with her dress” 

just as argo spots fitzroy, fitzroy spots argo. and Boy does fitzroy look Pissed. he storms over to argo, ready to chew him out, when suddenly the church clock begins to sound and argo looks panicked. he grabs fitzroy by the shoulders and is like: “i don’t have time to explain much but i have a house a horse and so much gold to offer you if you agree to marry me right now”

fitzroy is like “???? hello??? what??? first off, where the HELL have you been. two, marriage??? m-moving a little fast there huh--” and argo is like. freaking out bc he knows by the final sound of the bell he will be a spirit forever and so he just very quickly explains how He’s jack frost and he trapped kubla commodore in ice for the whole winter so he wouldn’t come down here and kill him and everyone else and if he doesn’t prove to father winter that his love for fitzroy is enough to want to remain mortal then fitzroy will never see him again. and fitzroy is like. flustered honestly but also rlly panicked bc like. he’s 24!!! he doesn’t wanna get married bro!!!! 

basically he’s like “argo i--i Do love you, but. marriage? it doesn’t have to be that Now like--we have time!!” and argo is just like. split-second decision says “kiss me” and fitzroy doesn’t even hesitate in doing so because Dang he’s been thinking about that for A While 

and as the final gong sounds and argo’s form begins to shift, argo breathes a final winter’s breath into fitzroy. 

then something...changes. argo realizes, as the bell begins to fade, that he hasn’t phased through fitzroy’s body. and as fitzroy feels this cold air pass through him, he suddenly finds himself...unable to feel the chilly hands cupping his face. when they part, argo realizes what has happened. 

fitzroy doesn’t look Too much different, but he’s definitely changed. his skin glows only barely, his eyes have a ring of winter-blue around the iris, and there’s a streak of snow-white in his hair. his outfit has also become a glittery, royal-looking affair--COMPLETELY different than the formal peasant clothes he was in seconds before 

meanwhile, argo has returned to his jack frost attire and look, but he can still be seen!!! by everyone around him!!! and by fitzroy!!! 

turns out, father winter saw that argo would be unhappy as either human (with friends and his love, but none of his friends or the satisfaction of giving people winter joy) or spirit (with his job and spirit friends, but without his mortal friends and love) and basically turned him into a demigod. demispirit? half-and-half. and, in order to guarantee fitzroy would be able to travel between the places, he Also made fitzroy into a partial winter spirit. 

all of their friends are like “oh shit did you two kiss??? also why do you both look so fruity” and then the wedding happens. they hold the reception in kubla commodore’s castle, where fitzroy is finally able to read the parcel!!!! 

what does the parcel say?? well, turns out fitzroy’s mother was a descendant of a line of royals. and, though she was not signficant enough to rule an entire kingdom, her father had granted her ownership of the village she chose to raise her son in. the kubla was only supposed to be a temporary position, until fitzroy’s mother was settled down enough. but kubla commodore liked his wealth too much!! so he poisoned fitzroy’s mother and made sure to keep fitzroy Extra poor so he’d never have the ability to find the proof of inheritance himself. when buckminster became a knight, he swore to fitzroy that he’d find these documents fitzroy’s mother mentioned on her deathbed. 

okay so ending shit. fitzroy gives ownership of the village back to the people. wealth is dispersed, things are fixed, everyone is happy. buckminster and rolandus get together, rainer and zana take over the castle and turn it into a BIG ol spot where those without a home can have lodging, and everyone is happy. fitzroy is Finally able to travel and see the things he’s never gotten to see, while also achieving some of the “bringing people happiness and safety” thing that came w his desire of being a knight by helping argo spread winter throughout the world. the two of them sorta go back-and-forth between their cozy little cottage in january junction, going across the globe to maintain the cold, and going up to the winter realm to see higglemas and firby and father winter. 

they’re in love, everyone is happy, rankin/bass Bite My Ass 

just kidding i love you and your silly little movies 

[kelseaaa]

Can I request a little something for Levi x mc? 🥺Idk if you take requests, if not, that's ok you don't have to!! I just miss him 😭

Thank you for your patience @simp-for-villains​!! I miss Levi, too! Hope you don’t mind that a little nsfw action ;) It’s almost 2k, kind of got away from me lol.

Book: Mother of the Year

Pairing: Levi Schuler x MC (Tara Day)

Warnings: very nsfw

~~~~~

Rare Moments

“I can’t believe we live 10 feet from each other and I can’t even see you,” Levi grumbled through the phone.

“Well, you’re the one who decided to go grocery shopping in the middle of a pandemic,” she countered. Levi couldn’t see it, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

When news hit about a deadly virus and a global pandemic, Tara had been on the ball with everything. Quickly stocking up on essentials without going overboard. Ensuring that Zoey got all her homeschool materials from Eiko so she could stay on top of things. Even figuring out a way to work from home through everything.

Levi had not been so lucky.

He knew to take things seriously but he had not been as serious as Tara. Causing him to still go out every few weeks to buy food and supplies - if there was anything left to buy.

“I know, I know. I should have listened to you,” he conceded before plopping down on his couch. “But I still don’t get why I can’t come over.”

He listened as she let out an exasperated sigh. “You know I can’t risk anything happening to Zoey.”

She was right, like always. Levi wouldn’t do anything to put either Tara or Zoey at risk. He still didn’t like it, though.

He decided to drop that conversation for the night. “So, how was Rocket, today?” he asked with genuine sincerity. Levi could hear the creak of Tara’s bed on the other side of the phone.

“She’s loving this,” Tara replied cooly. “She misses her friends but she’s already finished all the schoolwork the Academy gave out. She’s been doing all kinds of projects and research. And she loves to fill me in on every detail.”

Levi could hear the strain in her voice. It made his lips quirk into a knowing smirk. “And how are you handling all this?” he asked with amusement.

“Let’s just say today was a ‘two glasses of wine’ kind of day,” she huffed out.

Levi laughed. “You’re doing great, Tara.” He grew serious for a second before speaking again. “I wish I could help you. Help with all this. I wish I could be there.”

There was silence for a moment on the other line. “I know, Levi. Me too. That really means a lot.”

This was one of the rare moments in their crazy lives. One where they took the time for each other. It was serious and meaningful. It made Levi reflect on what he wanted. Who he wanted. The life he wanted with these two extraordinary girls that lived next door. The future they could have.

“Hey,” Tara said, breaking Levi from his wandering thoughts which was probably for the best at the moment. “What are you doing right now?”

He could hear the playfulness in her voice which made his brow raise slightly in delight. “Just chillin’ here all by my lonesome. Why you ask, Miss Day?”

She didn’t respond, instead he heard the familiar alert of a video call coming through his phone. He pulled it away from his ear and hit the accept button. He was quickly met by a smiling face and stunning green eyes.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted and took pleasure in the slight blush that blossomed across her cheeks. She was laying down on her bed, auburn hair fanned out across her pillows.

“Hello, handsome,” she responded back. He probably should have been more embarrassed by the dopey grin that was on his face, but seeing her - even if it was through video - made everything feel right in the world.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked, taking in the oversized, black band tee he realized several days ago that he was missing.

She looked down at the shirt then back to the camera. “Maybe,” she responded with a mischievous smile.

“Well it looks better on you, that’s for sure,” he commented with a laugh. “Is Rocket asleep?”

Tara nodded her head and Levi couldn’t help but notice the way she slowly ran the tips of her fingers across her bottom lip. His body shuddered and he silently cursed to himself for not being more careful during this pandemic. He would give anything to be in bed with her instead of alone on his couch.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Tara asked, her voice dropping an octave lower.

Levi liked where this was heading.

“You,” he responded earnestly. The smile that she gave him made his chest constrict and his stomach flip.

Then she had the nerve to bite the tip of her finger. “What about me?”

“I’m thinking about all the things I would do to you if you were here with me right now,” he began. “Or if I was in that bed with you.”

“Tell me,” she urged and Levi swallowed hard as the hand that was on her face slowly slid down and out of frame.

Levi’s own hand trailed down his bare chest and stomach, landing on the outside of his sweatpants to palm himself. “I would make you feel so good, Tara.”

“Yes,” she responded breathlessly as she closed her eyes. “Tell me more. Tell me what you want.”

Levi felt hot all over. The sounds coming from his phone - near-silent pants and almost inaudible moans - were making his head spin.

“Pull up your shirt,” he directed. She did, pulling the fabric up until it bunched up under her chin, leaving the silky skin of her chest exposed to him. He all but groaned when her hand traced circles around her pert skin. “That’s it, Tara. How does that feel?”

Her only response was a moan causing him to twitch against his leg. Levi’s hand found it’s way beneath his pants and boxers where he started to stroke languidly.

This wasn’t their first time. Over the past few weeks with nowhere to go and nothing to do, they had found themselves on similar calls. A way to relieve the built-up frustration of not being able to see, kiss, and touch each other.

Levi had usually been the one to follow directions, letting Tara lead. He did everything to make her happy and satisfied, letting her take charge during their late-night calls. But tonight was different. Tonight he was in control.

“Touch yourself,” he demanded. His voice was firm but full of affection and need.

He could tell by the way her eyes widened that she was pleasantly surprised at the directions. He watched her hand that had previously been rubbing over her chest move back down out of frame. A moment later there was a slight gasp from her parted lips and Levi’s quickened his own pace.

“Show me, Tara.” He watched as the screen shifted and soon he was staring at the bow of her hips and the delicious skin of her bare thighs. His tongue ran along his lower lip as he watched her fingers moving delicately under the black, cotton fabric covering her sex. “Take them off.”

He heard her huff before she set the phone down, the screen going black. He heard the sound of fabric rustling and then a moment later she picked the phone back up and positioned it back towards her lower half. She was fully exposed now, her fingers working deftly against her sensitive skin.

Using one hand, Levi shifted to pull down his sweatpants and boxers slightly, freeing himself to the open air. He continued to stroke himself, picturing her instead of his hand. “Talk to me, Tara. Tell me what you want.”

There was an audible gasp of his name followed by a low moan escaping her throat. The sounds only made him harder.

“I wish you were here,” Tara replied, her voice barely above of whisper.

Levi groaned. “Me too, baby.”

“I wish this was you,” she began, her fingers slowly dipping into her folds. “Your fingers, your mouth, your cock.”

Levi muttered a curse at her words. He loved it when her pretty mouth spouted off such vulgar things. This was a side a Tara reserved for only him. And now he was already dangerously close to finishing.

“Faster, Tara,” he instructed and reveled in the way her fingers moved deeper inside her at a delicious pace. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute now. “Just like that. God, I want to fuck you so bad. Are you close?”

“Yes, Levi, I’m so close,” she whimpered.

“I want to watch you as you come, baby.”

A moment later the camera had switched back to her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly as breathless moans and wanton sounds left her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed heavily and the slight crinkle across her brow let him know that she was almost there.

His eyes trailed over the curve of her lips, the definition of her collarbone, and the softness of her breasts. She panted his name and he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

“Levi… I’m… I…”

“That’s it, Tara. Let go,” he soothed and soon she was chorusing his name through her heavy breath. Her shoulders trembled and she arched slightly from the bed. She was a vision and soon Levi followed. Closing his eyes, he jerked his hips upwards and spilled out across his hand and stomach. Both lines grew quiet, save for the sounds of shallow breaths escaping both their lips.

When Levi finally opened his eyes, he saw Tara staring back at him, a huge, wicked smile gracing her lips. Levi returned the grin - all teeth. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he asked rhetorically. The way she blushed made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Yeah, I do,” she sighed dreamily, making Levi snort and roll his eyes. He shot her a pointed look through the screen before they both broke out into laughter. After a few more minutes of laughter and easy conversation, the pair said their goodbyes and got off the call.

After a quick shower, Levi laid in bed - alone - scrolling through his phone. He was just about to set it down on his nightstand when a familiar ding sounded through the room. He smiled as he opened the text from his neighbor who should have most definitely been asleep by now.

T: Miss you

L: Miss you too

There was a pause as Levi stared at the three little dots appearing then disappearing on the screen until finally-

T: If you promise to stay home and self-quarantine for the next two weeks, I’ll let you come over. Think you can do that?

Levi smiled to himself. He pretended to weigh the idea in his idea before responding back right away. Even though he knew exactly what his answer would be.

L: Sounds good to me :)

T: Great! See you in two weeks ;) Goodnight

L: Night Tara. Love you

T: I love you too

Levi plugged in his phone and laid it on the nightstand. It wasn’t hard to fall asleep. The promise of being able to see - actually see - the love of his life in two weeks made things much easier and soon he was out.

~~~~~

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Here’s some messy not fully formed thoughts... I’m just thinking about Harry and Louis’ songs that have multiple meanings. I’m including songs where they explicitly stated that (habit being about Louis relationship with performing and a relationship with a girl), songs where it is reasonably obvious in the text (kill my mind about a hookup and drugs; Carolina about a girl and cocaine; She about longing for an ideal impossible woman and being genderqueer), and songs where my view of what’s going on in their lives leads me to see two meanings (WMI about Eleanor/the fans - yes I’m still baffled that Louis is pretending this song has anything to do with fans and if that was his true intent it spectacularly failed to work for me - and also Harry; WMS about eating pussy and eating ass; basically all of Louis’ love songs). I’ll include Only Angel and Woman (being about a woman object versus exploring gender identity) in here too because lots of people see a double meaning there even though I really only see the woman as an object version. I’ll throw cherry in the ring just for you too (end of relationship with Camille and end of relationship with Nick).

Anyways, for Harry’s songs which have multiple interpretations, I find I can only really enjoy most of them through one lens. Carolina about cocaine? A bop. She being about exploring gender identity? Beautiful and meaningful to me. But when I think about the overt meaning of these songs, I find them really unlikable. I’m very offput by Carolina, Woman, only angel, She and many of his other songs if you take them at face value because they are all depicting an ideal woman through a mans view and I’m annoyed by it lol. There are some exceptions here - I do not need to add a queer lens or drug metaphor to cherry/fine line/WMS to enjoy them or have them resonate with me.

For Louis’ songs, although I find myself overlaying a queer lens to most of his love songs, I am able to enjoy them at face value. Some of his songs feel less meaningful/slightly boring if about a straight relationship, but at least they don’t objectify women or center a man’s gaze. Always you remains a great song, as is too young, WMI, walls. I really like Habit being about either performing or a girl (Louis did say in an interview this was both and said the word girl) and it doesn’t take away from the song for me. None of his lyrics make me feel icky like woman/OA/kiwi/Carolina/She. Is it because the other person in Louis’ songs feels like a subject with agency and rarely an object? I’ll say the exception here is perfect now, but that’s a whole other post. IDK.

Also I did not mean to make this a competition, I actually think FL is the best album of the three and HS1 the worst. And yes I realize putting She as obvious in it’s double meaning might be a stretch due to my bias.

TL;DR if you look at all of Louis’ songs through a straight lens, many of them are boring (and hence did not get great critics reviews) but at least they are not actively insulting to women. Whereas many, many of Harry’s are. So I can ONLY enjoy Harry’s music through a queer lens for the most part.

Thanks for your thoughts anon. The phrasing of this has hit a beserker button for me, so I'm going to talk about it a little bit. Not because I think it's relevant to your points, but because it's something that's been bugging me in the discourse for ages.

I really struggle with the claim that the multiple meanings you give of either She or Carolina are 'fairly clear in the text'. (I'd give you KMM or MMITH - both of which are part of the long tradition of love as drug and durgs as love).

I think that what happened with Carolina is that some fans didn't like the text of the song and so decided to give it another meaning. That's fine - that's part of the process of understanding art. But the claim that textually there's anything more going on than that is a huge leap, and not one I've ever seen a convincing argument before.

Somewhat differently, I think it's much more useful to talk about gender feelings being possible subtexts to She, than an alternate meaning. The important point of about subtext is that the text is still there, and nobody would suggest reading the subtext and ignoring the text.

There's a certain sort of fan discourse which assumes that meaning is binary and one meaning cancels the other out and I find it absolutely infuriating. The surface meanings of all these songs are there and are all part of the art and while individual fans don't have to engage with that, that's different from denying they exist. You're not doing that, but I've read enough stuff like that to be infuriated with that I really wanted to unpick the different ways songs can be about multiple things.

What I think is really interesting about your ask - is that you kind of present it is a choice - that fans make a decision about how to understand songs. And I think that's true (although I think how people do that can really differ).

************

I think what really interesting is the process whereby fans make meaning from the songs. And there are multiple meanings to all songs, because that's sort of the whole point - that there are lots of ways to enjoy and experience them. And taking these different meanings and lenses is part of being a fan.

And I think the idea I ended up most interested in, after I'd written that last anon was that question of identification and songs. 'This song is speaking directly to me and my experience' is obviously one very powerful mode that someone can experience a song. But it is one of many - 'I enjoy this story' is another, 'I enjoy this perspective from this artist' and 'I'd like this song to be sung about me' is another.

And in the case of a 1D members it's all really gendered. Because they're male artists singing for an overwhelmingly female audience.

Like you - I find the depiction of women in Harry's songs really offputting. What I'm interested in is if there's any connection between that and the fact that his songs seem to me not to be written in a position where they're seeking identification. And also that identification is a less important way that fans respond to his songs in general. I think looking at Harry it's tempting to draw connections between the two, but they may actually be very different processes.

With Louis the question comes from the other side - I think his fans do identify with him and his songs. Does the depiction of whoever he's talking to (which isn't usually explicitly gendered) play a role in that? I don't know. Do the people Louis is talking to feel like a person with agency? I'm not even sure about that. (For just a small Perfect Now detour - I do think that the person in that song has agency and a perspective. It's just that I want to say to the narrator 'Other people's trauma is not about you. Your feelings are not that important. Shut up!')

I guess what I'm interesting in hearing about (including from you if you want to come back) is those different kinds of resonance and how people relate to different songs.

[chemicalarospec]

Genuinely Don’t Say Anything Interesting Here But I Like Talking So Thus I’m Posting This

okay I did like nothing productive today but have a ramble on youtube fanbases, specifically the new gen of mcyt. This was two posts and then I made it one so sorry when I repeat myself. I did edit it tho lol. But that means I also inserted more, so this is just all over the place now. 

me from the future: oh god. all over the place. wait wtf this is so long. I don’t even have much to say I just like writing the same sentence three different ways and refusing to cut any of them. I’m sorry; I don’t know how to edit; this is informal AF. (can I use three semicolons? at least one of those is wrong anyways lol.)

edit: I’m so sorry I forgot about having a “read more” last night laksjdflksjad. Also idk if I even agree with myself lmao.

it’s so funny how mcyt is like The Thing now. It’s not cool to like it anymore lol, cuz everybody does. (This is a me thing. I like being special lol. I also self-define “cool” so you should not take it to heart when I say it’s not cool.)

I mean, just thinking about the Dream SMP as something I *do* want to get into, it doesn’t feel like “our thing” -- it’s has the feel of a HUGE fandom. Seriously, I’m in the phandom, which ngl has been dead since 2018, and the fanbase for the SMP has a much different, bigger feel. Idk what i’m getting at, it feels imposing? looking at the Dream SMP fandom seems similar in scope and slightly in atmosphere to pre-2019 phandom, at least to me, and it’s actually making me grateful that I joined now and not all that time ago.

Also I brought up the “our thing” bit because of the mcr post that goes “funny how MCR seems like our little secret and the biggest thing in the world at the same time” and I kinda thought that was just how all fandoms worked? idk I was going to assert that the truth is different but I thought some more and now I’m not sure.

but yeah I like the “our little secret” feel and somehow the phandom has (re)gained that while technoblade (and the new gen of mcyt as a whole) is loosing it.

I mean, I’ve been watching Technoblade since the bedwars winstreak. He had less than a millions subs but most people I brought him up to actually did know who he was. He was big but he wasn’t *famous* -- we all knew about him and we all cared. Like the only person who knew who he was and didn’t care had a little brother(s?) that loved him (wait why is this all in past tense this is all still true). (Yes AFC this has become a callout post for you mocking techno lol.) (If you’re still reading my miNeCRaFT yOuTuBeR fAnBaSe MEta. cringe culture is dead tho; I don’t have to say it like that.) 

Anyways, I didn’t follow Technoblade’s Dream SMP streams and now I feel like I’d just be tagging along if I did get into it. (also didn’t watch SMP Earth lol.) This is because I’m a gate-keeping jerk. Or hate missing out. One of those two things. 

(awkward transition where I don’t know how to make my tangent meaningful and have to make it back to the original train of thought I violently interrupted)

As a long time Techno fan, I’m really proud of the growth he’s experiencing, but a little sad too as the community is being -- well, I don’t want to say “infiltrated,” as I don’t want to shade anyone who was simply late to the party -- perhaps diluted? overwhelmed? yeah, overwhelmed by newer fans, and becoming “unmanageable” in a sense; it feels like we’ve lost a bit of our sense of community with the influx of new fans -- no shade to any new fans! This is just the way fandoms work. When the crowd is larger, it becomes harder recognize each member as a person, even if everything else is the same. (”The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic.”) (look this is how my brain works deal with it)

I just really like this small community feel, and it’s a bit daunting looking at the smp fandom. 

Also the growth Dream experienced this year is genuinely ludicrous. I mean, the wide appeal of shipping is part of it, not going to beat around that bush, but there’s just so much and I wanna read an essay from a long-time fan who saw it on why he’s got so much growth. 

I really hate to shame fans and stuff, but part of it, at least for me, is that most of these new fans probably aren’t “minecrafters” like we were. I doubt the majority of them grew up on Stampy, DanTDM, and whatever the other ones I didn’t watch were. I mean, some of this is because Child. For them, the distinction is really pre-quarantine post-quarantine i guess? Really, whether they played Minecraft or not. Again, I know it’s bad to shame fans, but apparently I’m just a terrible person and I feel like it’s more shallow or disingenuous to get into MCYT when it’s popular without already being into Minecraft. 

WAIT that’s it -- Minecraft community, as a whole, is special. It’s a LARGE umbrella of fandoms in general, but that’s the thing: they’re all more communities than fandoms -- from the casual builders to the pro parkour players to those who watched the og youtubers to those who followed the Great Potato War, there was Minecraft Culture. 

And the expanded fandom that’s sprung up around the Dream SMP and possibly Dream in general (???) is more of fandom. It feels like a fandom. People treat it like a fandom, they talk about it in fandom spaces, it is fandom, a modern fandom. Not a quaint “little” Minecraft community. 

I’m not going to say it’s because of the shipping, but... I have no data but at least I can say that it certainly creates an appeal for Fandom People as opposed to Minecraft People. And then also it’s just a fandom thing so it makes the space more fandom. 

Also I realized this is all based upon a feeling, so where did the feeling come from? I was reading in-fandom texts a lot today, and I think the storyline actually might have something to do with it. Also maybe the “talking behind their backs”? I can’t be bothered to remember what I’m comparing to what at this point but that’s definitely done in a lot of other spaces I’m in, so idk.

OH FRICK I’ve mostly been *in* the fandom spaces for real things lmao. (Read: I’m 100% making up everything at this point.) 

(awkward transition because I inserted the last two paragraphs later on)

And really, I played minecraft today for the first time in months. But it’s still with me, you know? The memories of being introduced to it, growing up with it. Going to the Nether with my cousins, my uncle’s giant survival mode cathedral. Mojang being bought by Microsoft and everybody hating it. (... me, my brother, my two friends, essentially... how did we even know??)

[I had part about the minecraft.net writers here but it was completely unrelated so it became it’s own post. I should do that more.]

(With every sentence the target audience of this post gets smaller.)

What was I saying? I’ll just wrap up. 

TL;DR: Dream SMP fandom feels like a fandom and not a Minecraft community and while that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I’ve realized I prefer a community feel, which makes me grateful I joined the phandom now. Also I shouldn’t be allowed to post things past 9:00pm. 

Oh my god I’m so sorry to all my mutrals. My tired loquacious reflex has kicked in. This is essentially a dan and phil stan blog, and though I know a few of you know what I’m going on about, I’m so sorry to the rest of you. 

Well, at least *I* think I’m a fascinating person with interesting things to say hahahahha. 

This is like a diary post. Should I post this? Yeah, other people should share my thoughts lol. OH NO: Late-night Tumblr fandom ramble posts are the new social-justice tirade/generally useless blog-like Goodreads reviews. At least it’s what Tumblr’s made for :P. 

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Desert Flowers (Rey x Reader)

Request: What if when you're born you have a black band around your wrist and when you meet your soulmate it grows into a tattoo up your arm, and one day R happens to bump into Rey. As maybe a kiss at the end??? Idk I got this idea from somewhere else and I think it's so cute!! Love your work, it always makes me smile when I see you've added something! By anon.

Words: 1,973

A/N: This idea was literally so cute! Hope you are having a good day/night. Let me know what you think.

Everyone had a soulmate or so they said, find it was a mission many people had as a lifetime goal, wanting so bad to find that person who would make the black band on their wrist turn into a full arm length tattoo.

Walking through the crowded market you admired the people passing by, hundreds of unknown faces all around under the burning suns of Tatooine. There were people from every corner of the galaxy, selling or buying the things the big market provided, but your gaze focused on the arm of a woman shopping next to you. Your eyes were mesmerized with the complex design that covered her entire arm in an endless looking labyrinth of black ink, a soulmate’s stamp.

“There you are, babe” said a tall man as he wrapped his arms around the woman next you, the same strange ink labyrinth laying on his arm, there was the soulmate.

You smiled and walked away. For a moment your gaze went to your naked arm and the black bracelet like band on your wrist. It had always been there, you were born with it just as the rest of them but it had never change into something and it never really bothered you at all until now.

As you continued your way through the crowd you observed some black bands like yours wondering if one of them would be the one but as they passed by your hopes dropped when nothing happened on your wrist. Maybe this soulmate thing wasn’t for you, there were people who died without finding their soulmate and were buried as they were born, with a black band on their wrist… and you didn’t want to be one of them.

In your childhood you used to imagine the person you were destined to meet someday, imagine their features, their smile. You used to draw on your skin pretending it was your soulmate’s stamp. While you were growing the image of their face faded away with the sandstorms of the planet and you no longer painted things on your arm, just kept living day after day feeling a void within you and hoping it would be filled someday.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the group of people running towards you, it was until you felt a shoulder bumping into you that you woke up to reality only to met with a pair of concerned hazel eyes.

“Sorry.” said the girl in front of you.

“Rey! We have to go!” you heard a man calling her. She gave you an apologetic smile before she rushed in the direction of the two boys that were waiting for her.

Your confused gaze followed her as she ran, a small droid beeping behind her rolling as fast as it could. Unconsciously you smiled and shook your head as you started walking away but before you could do it you felt something weird in your left hand, a tickle that spread through your whole arm.

Extending it in front of you, you witnessed how the black band on your wrist started to transform into something new. First some black lines left the band moving up slowly becoming stems that climbed your arm tangling with each other as a climbing plant does around a tree. Then you saw small ink figures that suddenly blossomed into delicate flowers.

You had met you soulmate. But who was it?

Looking around the crowded market you hoped to find someone experimenting the same thing you were going through, however the market seemed to be the same as before, nobody even seemed to notice you stood in the middle of the road. Then you finally realized.

“Her.” you muttered. What was her name? You tried to remember. “Rey” you said almost afraid of pronouncing her name. You turned around, she was too far gone.

Doubting for a second you ran towards the girl you had not even formally met but you felt like you knew. Millions of questions formed in your head as you ran through the people, dodging some droid from time to time searching desperately for her face again. It was probably not her, you weren’t sure about it, you needed a proof.

The idea of that girl being your soulmate made you smile, you saw her for a few seconds yet you wished to know more about her, even if she wasn't your soulmate, you wished to see her again.

Then you saw her ready to get into a big starship, something was stopping her, something in her left arm that kept her distracted from her friends telling her to get inside.

"Rey!" it blurted out of you dragging her attention to you. Her eyes followed you until you were closer to her. Finally you stood there looking at her trying to find the right words. She looked as perplexed as you when she laid her eyes on your arm covered in ink flowers.

She had the same design on her arm.

"I- I" you tried to say something, anything but what to say? you couldn't think of anything.

"We have to go!" Said a man stepping outside, he stopped when he spotted you. "Who is her? What's going on?" He asked.

"I- I'm Y/N" you said catching Rey smiling from the corner of your eyes.

Rey went silent for a moment then she raised her arm showing her flowers to her friend who glanced at it with a surprised smile.

"Y/N" Rey said, her voice was soft and gentle as she pronounced your name for the very first time eliciting a wave of warmth over your body. She opened her mouth to speak again but instead you heard another man calling from inside.

“Guys, they’re coming so you better get in!”

Looking over your shoulder you saw figures coming closer that your recognized even though they were far, a group of well known bandits, that was why they wanted to leave the planet so desperately.

Your gaze went back to Rey, she seemed to be as worried as you, both knowing she would have to go.

"Y/N, come with me" she urged to say with a pleading gaze.

"What?"

"Please, come with me" she said. Your mind filled with every kind of questions and emotions. Leaving you home was a thing you never expected, but you also didn't expect to find the person that matched your tattoo, your soulmate. You have just found her and at the same time you were going to lose her.

"I've spent my whole life looking for you, Y/N." She told you as she took your hand, it felt familiar, known and yet unexpected. "I'm not going to lose you now that I found you."

The beat of your heart rushed a bit more with her words. Never felt this kind of warmth inside your chest before, this much affection, this much wanted, this much love. And after a moment you decided maybe this was the right thing to do. Certainly there was nothing left for you there but maybe there was a chance for a future with the woman in front of you.

You gave her a tiny smile.

"I'm not planning on losing you either." You said squeezing her hand softly. She looked at you and for a brief moment you felt complete, finally whole and the time seemed to frozen between the two of you.

"Rey, we seriously have to go!" Screamed the pilot bringing you back to reality.

Without letting go of your hand she guide you inside the big ship, the gates closed behind you and then finally it took off.

*****

It took you some time to fully understand what happened, it just seemed all so surreal for you to travel across the space with her. The simple idea of Rey was like a dream came true.

You started knowing each other though you felt like you already knew her so well , you had more things in common than you imagined.

She told you about the way she lived in that planet that was very similar to yours and all the things she had to do to survive. But she got a bit emotional, almost upset as she told you that since she was a child her only goal was to find her soulmate but never got to find in back on Jakku. She just wanted someone who would understand her, listen her, she wanted to find her place and a family. Someone who would love her, just like you.

"You're the best thing that has happened to me, Y/N." she confessed once, with pure affection on her sweet voice.

"I feel the same way about you, Rey" you told her sincerely feeling that warm sensation in you and your heart in rhythm with hers.

"Never mentioned it before, but I really love our stamp." She giggled and you watched it for a second.

"It is really pretty."you told her.

"It's more than that," she smiled "it's meaningful."

"Elaborate." You giggled.

"Who many time did you see flowers back in Tatooine?"

"Not as much as I would have like to." You said.

"Yes, because of the weather. We both know there are not many flowers in a desert but those that dare to bloom there are strong."

"Just as you, Rey."

"Us, Y/N. We've been through a lot, you and me. Flowers also mean fragility, everyone is fragile somehow. They bloomed so it must mean growth or something. And then… the way the stems entangle with each other…" she shook her head with a smile.

"What is it?" You asked curious "what does it means?"

"Y/N, you ever believed in this soulmate thing? You thought it was possible for you to find it?" She questioned you.

"Well, as a kid was all I wanted. Then I started to doubt it when I grew up and nothing happened. But then there was you." You held her hand. "It's never been more real."

She glanced at you for a time, a soft smile laying on her lips that allowed those lovely little dimples to show.

"You didn't answer my question, Rey. What does it mean?" you rose your voice again.

"The way our paths crossed and that maybe we should stay together. It's silly but I know this flower. It means love, returned love." She said blushing slightly. "It sounds so crazy, I know. "

"It doesn't" You said smiling "it actually makes sense." You told her.

"Really?" She said a bit surprised.

After all this time with her that was all you wished for, you hoped she would feel the same way about you, you wished her to love you just as much as you loved her and her actions told you so.

You leaned close to her, eyes focused on her pale pink lips yearning to finally meet them. A part of you already knowing them. Then you close the small distance between you and pressed your lips on hers making the world around you fade away. You felt her soft lips kissing you back as the void inside you was completely filled. Returned love, Rey was right.

Rey glared at you as the kiss was over, resting her forehead on yours, her pupils were dilated while her mouth was curving into a heartwarming smile. There was no need for words, the sight of her made you felt alive, love, completed.

Everyone had a soulmate or so they said, find it was a mission many people had as a lifetime goal, wanting so bad to find that person who would make the black band on their wrist turn into a full arm length tattoo.

You found yours.

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or anything I write, just let me know)

[taeguboi]

“Would You Rather...?” Drabble 05 - Reader x Taehyung & Hoseok [V & J-Hope]

“so i read ur blog description and idk if i'm being mean on this would you rather ask but which one out of a day at a theme park with vhope and a cute dinner date with 2seok”

Send me BTS “Would You Rather…?” questions in my ask box for a drabble

First of all, yes this was mean to make me choose between VHope and 2Seok but I suppose I’ll forgive you anon ;)

Secondly, this drabble is a poly relationship between y/n, V and J-Hope so if that’s not your kind of thing, you have been warned - however, it is only fluffy if mentioning this helps :)

*******

Roller Coaster

“I don’t know guys…” you say, hesitant to say yes to what your boyfriends have just suggested for the third time.

It was a spontaneous decision to come to the theme park today. Taehyung had woken up before you and Hoseok and the two of you were woken up by him jumping on the bed excitedly

“Wake up guys! Wake up! We’re going on an adventure!”

Initially, it sounded like good fun; a day out on the rides, eating sugary food and visiting animals at the zoo. However, one thing you didn’t exactly think about straight away was the one thing you fear more than anything; roller coasters.

The idea of these contraptions terrified you. It wasn’t even a fear of heights or even a fear of being upside down. It was just that you questioned their safety. How did the train’s restraints remain locked down? What if one just gave up for some reason, causing you to plummet to the ground? Just the mention of the boy wanting to go on one made your knees turn to jelly.

“Can’t we just go on the Ferris wheel and see what else there is here?” you ask in an attempt to divert the point of conversation.

“Come on y/n, we’ve already been on all the boring rides!” exclaims Taehyung, excited at the adrenaline something bigger will bring, too hyped to notice what Hoseok has noticed.

Your face had turned pale, your expression uneasy. It was getting increasingly harder to hide just how little you wanted to do this. You guess you were always going to have to tell them eventually at some point today.

“Are you feeling okay y/n?” asks a concerned Hoseok, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Uh I-I” you stammer, trying to utter an explanation. You feel like such a baby even though you know your thought process about roller coasters is perfectly rational. There have been horror stories about them, even if not a vast amount.

“Look, Tae, maybe we should do a few other things again first…” Hoseok suggests, picking up on what your problem is without you needing to say a word. 

“But guys! The queue will have a much longer wait if we don’t go now!” counters Taehyung, desperately trying to persuade you guys to go on this particular roller coaster now. “Look! It’s only a 10 minute wait! I can bet you any money now if we come back even in 15 minutes, it’ll have gone up to half an hour” he complains.

“Tae…” Hoseok says through gritted teeth with a firm tone, trying to get the message across.

“Guys! Please!” Taehyung begs. “What’s the problem y/n? Was it not the one you wanted to go on? Because I can promise it’ll be worth it, and…”

“Okay fine! I don’t want to do it! I’m terrified! Are you happy now?!” you admit, gushing out the string of sentences, trying to hold back the few tears of embarrassment that threaten to escape your eyes.

“Christ’s sake Taehyung! If you’d have just stopped to listen for a few seconds… Never mind” Hoseok sighs. “Look, how about you go ahead and me and y/n will meet you back here when we’ve checked out the park from the wheel” he suggests calmly.

“I don’t want to go on my own” utters Taehyung, much quieter now.

“No, he’s right Hobi, you go with Tae-Tae. I’ll just grab an ice cream or something. I’m sorry guys” you apologise.

“Oh, honey!” exclaims Taehyung sympathetically. “There’s no need to be sorry!” he assures you, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You should have just told us sooner. I didn’t mean to upset you” he tells you, voice slightly muffled by your head which his lips rest at before kissing it.

“You weren’t to know Tae… I just didn’t want you guys to think any less of me. I thought I could force myself to do it and that maybe I’d enjoy it, but… I just feel like they’re not very safe, you know?” you explain, still basking in Taehyung’s hug.

“And you still don’t have to” Hoseok tells you. “Come on, let’s get that ice cream” he smiles, taking a hold of your hand as you let go of Taehyung.

The two boys happily start to walk towards the nearest cafe and you can’t help but feel bad at the sight of them walking in the opposite direction to the roller coaster. You do a little jog to catch up with them and Taehyung offers to go get everyone a cup of water whilst you all decide what flavour ice cream you’d all like.

“You feeling better my love?” asks Hoseok with an affectionate look from across the table.

“I guess…” you sigh, but you’re uncertain of how you feel. On one hand, you’re relieved that you don’t have to go on the roller coaster. On the other hand, you feel guilty for stopping the boys get in that shorter queue that will probably have lengthened as you speak and sit here. And then additionally, you get this small rush of self-loathing about your cowardice for not facing your fears.

“Here we go my lovelies!” Taehyung beams, plonking three bottles of water on the table as he sits down next to you.

“Aw, come here darling” he smiles, pulling you in for another hug with his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m okay guys! Really!” you protest, sitting yourself up and halting Taehyung in his movements.

“Sorry” you apologise for such a rash outburst. “I should probably explain. I’m not afraid of heights or anything like that. I just fear that they aren’t safe enough, you know? I have day-mares whenever I think about a roller coaster that the big bar thing that goes over your head and strap you in will just like give up and I know it sounds really dumb but…”

“Hey, that’s not dumb at all!” Hoseok intervenes, stopping you from getting into an emotional mess.

“Yeah, I agree!” Taehyung chimes in. “In fact, to be honest, I never thought of it that way before”

“Yeah but you’d jump off a cliff if we asked you to” jokes Hoseok, earning a gentle whack on the shoulder from across the table.

Your boyfriends go back and forth like this but their dialogue and banter serves merely as a background noise to your thoughts. Maybe you just don’t need to over think these things so much. You’re almost certain that if you don’t go on the goddamn thing today, you’ll go home wishing you were brave enough to. Perhaps it might even feel quite empowering… 

“Guys” you interrupt. “What if it was like a middle seat and you both held my hand?” you ask.

“Y/n, we’re not going to force you into doing something you don’t want to” Taehyung reminds you.

“I know, I know… but… I feel like I might kick myself tonight for not trying it at least once”

Hoseok smiles warmly, proud of your little revelation. He leans across the table to hold both of your hands. “Okay then… We’ll be holding your hand all the way”

“Yeah, I’ll have this hand” says Taehyung, his hand hovering over your right hand, prompting Hoseok to let go. “And Hobi will have that one” he smiles, holding your hand with a meaningful squeeze. “And if at any point, you change your mind, even if it’s when we’re the next in line to have our go, we’ll be with you all the way”

You smile at how you have not one, but two super understanding, kind hearted boyfriends. They give you this feeling that with them, you can do this. You can do anything.

“Let’s do it” you hum with a positive tone, standing up and the boys follow suit. You all take your water bottles and walk out of the cafe.

“I’m so proud of you” Hoseok grins, snaking an arm around your waist and you return the hold by putting your arm around his waist.

“I’m prouder” boasts Taehyung, causing Hoseok to let out a single breath of laughter.

“Does everything have to be a competition to you?” asks Hoseok.

A moment of silence follows only to be broken by Taehyung who shouts - “Race you to the ride!”

“You are so on!” Hoseok exclaims, accepting the challenge.

The two boys run off ahead of you as you casually continue to stroll, watching the two figures run into the distance, Taehyung still having that slight head start advantage over Hoseok.

With a fond smile, you think to yourself “I’m so lucky to have these dorks”

ahh I love sunshine boyfriends

Fiction Masterlist

[salamanderskin]

Comfort

cr//it//ical r/o/l/e (m) sickfic. This is one of my more favourite fever scenarios I’ve written, I’m very happy with it though idk if the rest will make any sense if you don’t know the show. 

After a near drowning in episode 40, Nott has a panic attack, Caduceus has wet fur and the start of a cold. They bond over their shared misgivings about seafaring life and give each other some comfort. 

Or... Caduceus leverages Nott’s caring instincts to calm her down. Platonic intimacy ensues. 

It has been hours since they left the water. 

Whole hours, which means Nott is fine, she is safe, everything is fine and she did not drown and she can breathe just fine. So why then are her lungs still working like she'll never breathe again? 

She knows this feeling, knows it just her body telling her she's dying when she's quite safe here in hammock on the Squall Eater. She's felt it a thousand times, knows it always passes, but it's horrible horrible horrible.

Where's Caleb? Where's Frumpkin?

In their own hammock, with the cat curled tight on the wizard's own chest. He doesn't look exactly peaceful either, but they are asleep. If they were in an inn or camped outside she would take her own place on his chest, or at his feet, and let his steady breathing remind her own lungs how they are supposed to work. Perhaps she could climb up there with him? 

The motion of sitting up sets her hammock rocking in a way that reminds her immediately of the waves below. Nausea rises in her throat. 

She could certainly climb in and sleep with Caleb but that would rock the hammock even more, and between their two bodies the cloth would constrict her limbs and maybe she couldn't climb out of it easily and- no, not that then. That's not the answer.

Nott leaps from her own cocoon of blanket and paces the floor, hand on her chest to remind her to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

She slips out of the door. Let Caleb rest. He needs it.

In the narrow, dark passages below the deck she takes stock.

Caleb? Asleep.

Jester? Most likely asleep but wouldn't mind being woken.

Beau and Yasha? Most likely asleep and would mind being woken.

Fjord? Would also mind being woken. Not asleep but with Avantika, getting his rocks off most likely. That leaves…

Caduceus? Most likely asleep?

As she paces past the cabin she knows the Firbolg shares with Fjord, Nott listens hard. She expects to hear slow even breaths, but instead she can hear the a tall body moving around and the rustle of fabric. A sniffle, a set of ticklish coughs and a muffled exhalation that might have been a sneeze.

Not asleep then.

She enters without knocking.

There is a hurricane lamp it and in it's flicker she can see the firbolg sitting on the floor on a pile of blankets. Of course he is far too tall to take a hammock. He is shirtless and the glow picks out pools of shadow beneath his collarbones, a smear of deeper grey between every rib in his thin chest.

 “Nott!” he looks up, surprised. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes, no, I'm-” her breathing hiccups and her vision gets spotty from lack of oxygen. Maybe she stumbles, because she is caught by strong hands and settled to sit beside him on the floor.

“Whoah. Hey there.” His deep voice is gentle but clear. “Why don't you take some deep breaths. Like this, with me.”

He takes her hand in his and presses it to the broad plain of his chest, so that she can feel the slow rise and fall in her own body.

“That's it. Nice and steady.”

It's hard. It's really, really hard when her body says can't you see you're dying. Mastering her breath is like reigning in a galloping horse. But it will work. She knows it will work if she can just get control of it. Ignore her heart, ignore the way her the room seems to tilt, ignore the nausea and the terrible skin- tightening panic.

Trouble is, there's a fine line between deepening her breathing and focusing on it too much. She wants to be aware of it, but if she gives all her attention to the sensations they will become too much to bear. In Nott's mind she grasps for ways to make the situation normal, to find something, anything to make small talk about.

Caduceus helpfully provides it by tucking his head away for a sudden sneeze.

“Gesundheit!” she offers. The routine response momentarily overrides her panic. It happens again and he offers a sheepish sniffle as he turns back to her.

“Pardon. Got a lot of water in my nose today.” He sniffles. “You want me to count your breaths for you? Some people find that helps.”

Nott considers and shakes her head. “Can we- talk to me- about something else? Anything?”

“Sure I can.” 

He agrees easily, without questioning her further. At that moment, she could kiss him. It must be working with so many people who are grieving- he is really, really good at this, and launches into easy, light conversation that doesn't require a meaningful response. He just chats away as he picks up the towel he was using to try and buff at his fur.

She can see how that the longer patches of are spiked, like a plush velvet cloak that should definitely not have been washed in salt water. The shortest parts around his face and arms are dry but the rest of his fur still holds the water.

“I know it's tropical out there but I can't get warm till it's dry.” He tells her, sniffling again.

 “You should definitely dry off or you'll get sick.” She comments absently.

“You don't get a cold from being wet and cold,” Caduceus tells Nott.

“Says you.” She fires back, desperately glad to put her attention on any subject other than her recent near drowning and the way still can't seem to get a proper breath. Her heart hammers uncomfortably in her throat but it seems further away when she has something to focus on.

“Yeah. says me. I'm the h- the heal-er-”

Nott hears his usually deep voice go all tickly and shuddery as he winds up for another sneeze. He looks so over it afterwards that it makes her heart flip but it's a soft caring flip not a drowning, panicking flip and it actually makes her chest feel warmer. She grabs the towel from beside him and stands, so that his pink hair is level with her chest.

“Come on, let me dry you off. Don't you know any spells for that?”

“I don't. And I don't fancy asking Caleb to try a fireball, so we'll have to do it the old fashioned way.” He shakes his head under the towel.

Nott can feel the firbolg shivering under her ministrations. In response she begins to buff the towel down his shoulders and upper arms, then follows by rubbing with the palms of her hands to try and get the circulation back. The sensation of silk-velvet fur beneath her palms is so delightful that she is no longer sure whether she is doing it for his comfort or hers.

“That's really nice.” He comments, closing his eyes and tipping his head forward with a huffing sigh.

“You're freezing. You should put a shirt on. And a sweater. And socks. Do you even own socks?” She fusses.

Caduceus laughs. “You'd make a good mom.”

 “I'm-”

He notices how her shoulders rise back up to her ears and diverts, “Okay, okay, clearly that's a conversation for another day!”

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry.” Nott manages. 

She can deepen her breathing by herself now. After the initial gasp she gets when she thinks about her family, memories of caring for her son do actually make her calmer. There was that same coolness in a crisis that she is feeling now. Not that this is a crisis, but the vulnerability she feels in Caduceus is quieting her own worries to a dull roar and she likes it that way. At least the fur on his torso is mostly dry now. It is standing up fluffier than usual and he seems to be shivering less. She did that. That's something.

Caduceus runs his own hands over his arms, assessing, and clearly her efforts will suffice because he puts a dry shirt on leans back against the side of the ship. He isn't entirely relaxed however, Nott can see his nostrils twitching while a little furrow deepens between his brows.

“Caduceus?” She asks.

His answer is to double forwards with a wrenching sneeze and then another, barely smothered against the crook of his arm. Nott winces. That sounded... wet. She casts around the little room to find a handkerchief. It might technically be Fjord's but she doesn't suppose he'll mind, especially when the alternative is a very sniffly room-mate.

“Here.” She presses it into his hand. He casts her grateful look, sidelong over the press of his wrist to his nose.

Standing up and searching the room felt good. Doing things for someone else feels good. As Caduceus blows sheepishly, inspiration strikes.

“I'm going to make you some tea!” She declares.

Her companion frowns slightly. “I can make it-” he begins. Stops. Sees the slightly frantic good will in her eyes and just nods slowly. “Sure. That'd be nice. Thanks Nott.”

He still uses his magic to heat the kettle but he lets Nott set out his beloved cups, marvelling that they had not broken on the voyage. He shows her to some pre-made blends in pouches and lets her do the rest, leaning back against the wall and letting his heavy head droop.

  Nott is fastidiously careful as she handles Caduceus' most precious possessions. She can't quite believe he is actually letting her manage the process herself. It is kind of a gift, she realises.

She watches him critically as he takes the cup from here. Did his hands shake just a little? Her keen eyes spot a tiny wince with each swallow.

“Does your throat hurt?”

“Yeah, a little. The tea will help, I think.”

“Let me just-” Before he can protest, she reaches to feel his forehead for a fever.

Even with him sitting she has to stretch to reach. His brow is broader than the length of her hand. She thinks his dove-grey makes her green skin look more emerald than muddy, for once.

There's no heat there, that she can tell. She switches her palm for the back of her hand and then as an extra measure applies it to the side of his neck. Nothing to feel but soft, slightly damp firbolg. He looks at her curiously.

“No fever.” She tells him. “Yet. So I don't think you have what Beau had. But I'm keeping an eye on you.”

“I’ll bear that it mind.” He agrees mildly, and sips his tea. He knows full well he hasn't got whatever magical malaria had briefly sunk it's teeth into their human companion- he had a word with the biting insects and politely asked them to back off. 

Nott is satisfied with her work and comes to sit beside him with her own cup of tea, and she seems to finally have settled.

“Nott?” He asks. “Feeling calmer now?”

She draws a breath and makes a mental check of her heart, her lungs. “Yes. Yes, thank you. I’m fine now. I was just having… having a time.”

There is a long silence as they both sip. She nestles in closer beside him, filling the crook beneath his shoulder so that his arm is almost around her. He is so tall and soft that she feels particularly small and gnarly by comparison but it’s nice, too, being under the protection of someone so big. She wonders how it feels for him, being mothered by someone so small. Speaking of… 

“Caduceus?” She asks at last. “Were you maybe faking a little bit to get me to fuss over you? To calm me down, I mean?”

He laughs, then turns to look down at her with his lovely almond-shaped eyes and his brows in a solemn arch. 

“Well. Lots of people find helping someone else calms them down a lot, so there's that.” He pauses, scrubs at his face with the little sniff-swallow that is becoming more frequent. “I wish I was faking it for you. My nose feels really stuffed now.”

She makes a sympathetic face and is about to move beside him when there is a knock at the door.

It isn't loud, but the suddenness makes her jump as though she was slapped.

Nott feels ice cubes drop down into her gut, a sharp ache at the top of her chest and it's hard to get a good breath and it's starting again oh shit

She looks down, finds her claws pressing too hard into Caduceus' arms, sees his strong hands gently peeling them off. 

“It's okay. It's just Caleb, see? I think the noise made you jump.” He doesn't seem mad.

He's right, it is Caleb coming into the room with his cat in his arms, his ginger hair mussed and lank from the near-drowning, and a worried look that eases somewhat when he sees Nott.

“Ah, there you are.” He says. “Nott, are you okay?”

“She’ll be okay.” Caduceus tells him evenly. “That's good.” This last is directed to her with a warm hand rubbing her back.

Nott comes to herself enough to watch a couple of different expressions drift over her wizard's face. She wonders whether he might even be jealous that it is Caduceus easing her through this, the way she might be jealous if Caleb were to confide in someone else before herself. Talking her down from the panic is usually Caleb's job.

But Caleb doesn't seen to mind exactly.

“It seems I startled you.” Caleb says. “I am very sorry my friend.” 

“It's fine,” She reassures him. “I- it's nothing.”

What she loves about Caleb is that he doesn't force an explanation. He knows that sometimes people's minds don't work quite right and then their bodies follow. He just sinks down to sit beside them on Caduceus' makeshift bed and wraps his arms around Frumpkin, who is purring aggressively. Caleb doesn't look to be in good condition either. He moves as though his joints ache and his expression is deeply unsettled.

The firbolg between them is shivering again. Nott can feel his teeth chattering and apparently Caleb can too because he raises an eyebrow. Caduceus shrugs, pulls one of the blankets from the pile and adds his over his knees. He also sniffles audibly.

“He's getting sick.” Nott tells on him.

“There's no need to be concerned.” Caduceus begins.

“With respect,” Caleb tells him. “I agree with Nott. You don't look so good.”

“With respect,” Caduceus echoes, “neither do you.”

The wizard laughs. “Can we just agree that we all nearly drowned and we all look like shit and today was a really shitty day?”

“It was an incredibly shitty day.” Nott agrees.

She feels calmer now. It's nice, sandwiched into this tiny space with Caleb and Caduceus both together.

“It was a, uh, really quite a day.” Caduceus agrees. “But we all made it our alive and unharmed.”

It's a pity the firbolg has to sneeze immediately after that statement. Caleb doesn't seem to mind.

Nott winces at the sound. So does Caleb, and she notices him squeeze Caduceus' hand.

“Definitely coming down with something.” Caleb remarks. 

Nott tries to give him a told-you-so look but Caduceus looks so worn down that she can’t muster much fire in it. They sit together for a long time, just the three of them, collectively wincing when the ship crests a particularly huge wave. Eventually Caduceus sighs heavily and looks at them both. 

“If you don’t mind, I should probably try and get some sleep.” 

Caleb nods agreement and rises, reaching for Nott’s hand. “Do you think you could try to sleep, Nott? You can come in with me if you want?”

“Sure, I suppose so.” She agrees. She does feel better now but more importantly if she stays up, Caleb will stay up with her, and he needs his sleep or he’ll end up as sick as Caduceus. 

Before leaving she turns back to the firbolg and gives him a firm hug, trying to show her gratitude through the cling of her limbs. Caleb is less demonstrative but his voice is warm as he says, “Rest well.” 

So Caleb leads Nott back up to her cabin, her bony fingers nesting securely in his broader, bandaged-hands. She lets herself be taken. Let Caduceus sleep. 

………

Morning comes, bright and hot and wave-tossed. Nott wakes in Caleb’s hammock, curled over her boy’s legs like a stringy green cat. She takes a moment to assess the situation; they are out on the open sea in a ship filled with untrustworthy pirates, the opportunity to drown is still very present, but she feels a little better today. Her fear is back at it’s usual level;  lurking around the pit of her stomach rather than gripping her throat. Thank whatever gods are out here. 

Then she remembers. How is Caduceus?

He is usually an early riser. She’d expect to find him in the galley knocking up a meal or perhaps standing on the deck and looking out for land with a longing nearly as strong as her own. He must still be in bed. Nott seeks him out. 

Below decks the movement of the ship seems worse somehow. She stumbles whenever the floor pitches under her and makes a conscious effort not to think of fathoms of saltwater underneath her feet. 

Fjord has already vacated their shared quarters, if he even came back at all, and left a pile of blankets on the floor, rucked into a mountain range by the bony angles of a still sleeping Caduceus. Laying down, he is all limbs and knees and shoulder blades. For once she feels grateful for her goblin body, in that it curls in on itself easily. There is just too much firbolg and he is too skinny to make a ball for warmth. He looks like he would if he could. 

She shakes him gently, then harder. “‘Duceus? You in there?”

No answer, though his eyes open. Nott can see a bleary slither of pink which blinks out for an unsteady breath and a sneeze that just wrenches through him. Poor guy.

“I was going to ask how you’re feeling-?”

His answer is another sneeze, well-smothered into a handful of blankets, and a thick sniffle showing he can barely breathe through his nose. “I…” He tilts his head bashfully. “Yeah… that’s about the shape of it.” 

He raises up on one elbow and shakes his head as though testing his focus and finding it wanting. “Wow. Yeah. Not too good.”

“Oh no.” Nott comes to sit beside him and notes the flood of warmth released from under the bedclothes. She agrees. Not good at all. 

“Bit of a fever there, ‘Ducey,” she sighs.

He blinks at her muzzily. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“C’mere.” She crawls over and leans to lay her cheek against his forehead. There is a noticeable warmth, nothing alarming, just enough to make the big guy miserable for a day or two. 

“Mm, that’s nice.”

“Huh? Oh-” She adds her cold little hands to the sides of his face, first the backs and then the palms. “I can do that.”

When he leans in to the touch, she scoots close enough to give him a hug. She wishes her arms were a little longer but he seems to welcome it all the same. 

At that moment, the ship gives an especially noticeable roll. They shudder in unison and look queasily at each other. “I hate this. I can’t wait to be back on dry land.” Nott voices their shared thoughts.

“You and me both.” Caduceus nods. His eyes are weighing closed and he looks weak and shivery. He sniffles and it turns into a persistent, painful cough. 

“You should lie down. See if you can go back to sleep”

He lies down but keeps his eyes open, looking up at her. To Nott he suddenly looks really, tired and really, really sad. 

“Are you feeling worse? Should I get Jester?” 

He shakes his head, swallows hard. She can feel him shiver convulsively despite the warmth of the day. 

“No, no, it’s not that. Don’t tell Jester, she’ll worry and she’ll tell Fjord and he’ll worry. He needs to focus on the ship, he doesn’t have time for this-” a gesture to himself.

Caduceus continues in a husky whisper, “I don’t even mind getting sick, not really. Every creature has periods of weakness and then the Wildmother lifts them through it. But in the Grove, surrounded by my family, with evidence of her power everywhere, it wasn’t so bad. Out here it just…”

“Really sucks.” Nott finishes his thought.

“Yeah. Yeah. It really sucks.” He agrees 

His big eyes gleam with wetness at the corners and it hurts her heart. 

“Can I do anything for you?” Nott frets. “I could make some more tea?”

“Thanks.” He says through chattering teeth. “But I think I’ll just try and sleep it off.” 

 “Okay.” She twists her hands in the hem of her dress for want of something to help him. Maybe she should leave him to his misery. 

The ship is heaves from side to side again. They watch a loose copper coin slide across the floor when the angle changes. Nott grimaces. Her heart kicks in her chest as a unspoken voice says drowning, you’re drowning and you can’t breathe-

“Nott?” Caduceus’ deep voice cuts through the panic. “Would you… stay for a bit?” 

She must have given him some goblin-faced look because he retracts it immediately; “You don’t have to.”

“No, no. I’ll stay. I’d love to stay with you. I don’t want to go up there.” Her own voice is high and scratchy and fast and relieved. She returns to his bedside as though drawn by a magnet to his feverish form. 

Where he lies on his side there is a perfect, Nott-sized hollow made by his bent legs where she can lean her back against him and have a hand free to smooth along his flank. He reaches an arm over her lap to give her a squeeze  then tucks it back under his head, trying to find a way to rest his neck. The simmering, febrile heat of him is not unpleasant for her, though it makes him kick off his blankets. She can hear his breath getting shallower as his fever crests. 

She rises from the embrace only once, to dampen a rag with water from the canteen and lay it carefully on his brow. His eyes crack open and he manages a quiet, “thanks…” without truly surfacing from sleep. The soft, grateful tone nearly breaks her heart. 

Nott settles back at the head of his blanket nest, where she can reach to lift his sweaty hair from his neck. She sifts through it, allowing the breeze to reach his skin. His silken, goat-like ears are pressed back against his head and the effect is rather pitiful, even without the frown pulling down his mouth as he sleeps. 

“I hate seeing you like this.” She says to his drowsing form. “We need you better,’Duceus. Who's going to make us  tea and remind us to eat and be the butt of jokes they don’t really understand?”

Caduceus must be more awake than she realised, because he turns his head to her. His eyes have a glassy sheen that make them look more like costume jewellery than rare sapphires. It’s not right at all. But he does manage a smile. 

“S’alright.” He slurs sleepily. “We can’t stay on the sea forever. And I’ll be okay. I’ve got all of you. And you’ve got me…” 

He rolls over. Nott feels some tension she wasn’t aware of leaving her body. Maybe she could sleep too, just for a little.

At different times during the morning, both Caleb and Fjord crack open the door to the cabin. Greeted by the sight of two unlikely bedfellows, they carefully push it closed again and turn away. Lots of things are going wrong for the Mighty Nein, but they are doing right by each other. That’s a comfort. 

t has been hours since they left the water. 

Whole hours, which means Nott is fine, she is safe, everything is fine and she did not drown and she can breathe just fine. So why then are her lungs still working like she'll never breathe again? 

She knows this feeling, knows it just her body telling her she's dying when she's quite safe here in hammock on the Squall Eater. She's felt it a thousand times, knows it always passes, but it's horrible horrible horrible.

Where's Caleb? Where's Frumpkin?

In their own hammock, with the cat curled tight on the wizard's own chest. He doesn't look exactly peaceful either, but they are asleep. If they were in an inn or camped outside she would take her own place on his chest, or at his feet, and let his steady breathing remind her own lungs how they are supposed to work. Perhaps she could climb up there with him? 

The motion of sitting up sets her hammock rocking in a way that reminds her immediately of the waves below. Nausea rises in her throat. 

She could certainly climb in and sleep with Caleb but that would rock the hammock even more, and between their two bodies the cloth would constrict her limbs and maybe she couldn't climb out of it easily and- no, not that then. That's not the answer.

Nott leaps from her own cocoon of blanket and paces the floor, hand on her chest to remind her to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

She slips out of the door. Let Caleb rest. He needs it.

In the narrow, dark passages below the deck she takes stock.

Caleb? Asleep.

Jester? Most likely asleep but wouldn't mind being woken.

Beau and Yasha? Most likely asleep and would mind being woken.

Fjord? Would also mind being woken. Not asleep but with Avantika, getting his rocks off most likely. That leaves…

Caduceus? Most likely asleep?

As she paces past the cabin she knows the Firbolg shares with Fjord, Nott listens hard. She expects to hear slow even breaths, but instead she can hear the a tall body moving around and the rustle of fabric. A sniffle, a set of ticklish coughs and a muffled exhalation that might have been a sneeze.

Not asleep then.

She enters without knocking.

There is a hurricane lamp it and in it's flicker she can see the firbolg sitting on the floor on a pile of blankets. Of course he is far too tall to take a hammock. He is shirtless and the glow picks out pools of shadow beneath his collarbones, a smear of deeper grey between every rib in his thin chest.

 “Nott!” he looks up, surprised. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes, no, I'm-” her breathing hiccups and her vision gets spotty from lack of oxygen. Maybe she stumbles, because she is caught by strong hands and settled to sit beside him on the floor.

“Whoah. Hey there.” His deep voice is gentle but clear. “Why don't you take some deep breaths. Like this, with me.”

He takes her hand in his and presses it to the broad plain of his chest, so that she can feel the slow rise and fall in her own body.

“That's it. Nice and steady.”

It's hard. It's really, really hard when her body says can't you see you're dying. Mastering her breath is like reigning in a galloping horse. But it will work. She knows it will work if she can just get control of it. Ignore her heart, ignore the way her the room seems to tilt, ignore the nausea and the terrible skin- tightening panic.

Trouble is, there's a fine line between deepening her breathing and focusing on it too much. She wants to be aware of it, but if she gives all her attention to the sensations they will become too much to bear. In Nott's mind she grasps for ways to make the situation normal, to find something, anything to make small talk about.

Caduceus helpfully provides it by tucking his head away for a sudden sneeze.

“Gesundheit!” she offers. The routine response momentarily overrides her panic. It happens again and he offers a sheepish sniffle as he turns back to her.

“Pardon. Got a lot of water in my nose today.” He sniffles. “You want me to count your breaths for you? Some people find that helps.”

Nott considers and shakes her head. “Can we- talk to me- about something else? Anything?”

“Sure I can.” 

He agrees easily, without questioning her further. At that moment, she could kiss him. It must be working with so many people who are grieving- he is really, really good at this, and launches into easy, light conversation that doesn't require a meaningful response. He just chats away as he picks up the towel he was using to try and buff at his fur.

She can see how that the longer patches of are spiked, like a plush velvet cloak that should definitely not have been washed in salt water. The shortest parts around his face and arms are dry but the rest of his fur still holds the water.

“I know it's tropical out there but I can't get warm till it's dry.” He tells her, sniffling again.

 “You should definitely dry off or you'll get sick.” She comments absently.

“You don't get a cold from being wet and cold,” Caduceus tells Nott.

“Says you.” She fires back, desperately glad to put her attention on any subject other than her recent near drowning and the way still can't seem to get a proper breath. Her heart hammers uncomfortably in her throat but it seems further away when she has something to focus on.

“Yeah. says me. I'm the h- the heal-er-”

Nott hears his usually deep voice go all tickly and shuddery as he winds up for another sneeze. He looks so over it afterwards that it makes her heart flip but it's a soft caring flip not a drowning, panicking flip and it actually makes her chest feel warmer. She grabs the towel from beside him and stands, so that his pink hair is level with her chest.

“Come on, let me dry you off. Don't you know any spells for that?”

“I don't. And I don't fancy asking Caleb to try a fireball, so we'll have to do it the old fashioned way.” He shakes his head under the towel.

Nott can feel the firbolg shivering under her ministrations. In response she begins to buff the towel down his shoulders and upper arms, then follows by rubbing with the palms of her hands to try and get the circulation back. The sensation of silk-velvet fur beneath her palms is so delightful that she is no longer sure whether she is doing it for his comfort or hers.

“That's really nice.” He comments, closing his eyes and tipping his head forward with a huffing sigh.

“You're freezing. You should put a shirt on. And a sweater. And socks. Do you even own socks?” She fusses.

Caduceus laughs. “You'd make a good mom.”

 “I'm-”

He notices how her shoulders rise back up to her ears and diverts, “Okay, okay, clearly that's a conversation for another day!”

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry.” Nott manages. 

She can deepen her breathing by herself now. After the initial gasp she gets when she thinks about her family, memories of caring for her son do actually make her calmer. There was that same coolness in a crisis that she is feeling now. Not that this is a crisis, but the vulnerability she feels in Caduceus is quieting her own worries to a dull roar and she likes it that way. At least the fur on his torso is mostly dry now. It is standing up fluffier than usual and he seems to be shivering less. She did that. That's something.

Caduceus runs his own hands over his arms, assessing, and clearly her efforts will suffice because he puts a dry shirt on leans back against the side of the ship. He isn't entirely relaxed however, Nott can see his nostrils twitching while a little furrow deepens between his brows.

“Caduceus?” She asks.

His answer is to double forwards with a wrenching sneeze and then another, barely smothered against the crook of his arm. Nott winces. That sounded... wet. She casts around the little room to find a handkerchief. It might technically be Fjord's but she doesn't suppose he'll mind, especially when the alternative is a very sniffly room-mate.

“Here.” She presses it into his hand. He casts her grateful look, sidelong over the press of his wrist to his nose.

Standing up and searching the room felt good. Doing things for someone else feels good. As Caduceus blows sheepishly, inspiration strikes.

“I'm going to make you some tea!” She declares.

Her companion frowns slightly. “I can make it-” he begins. Stops. Sees the slightly frantic good will in her eyes and just nods slowly. “Sure. That'd be nice. Thanks Nott.”

He still uses his magic to heat the kettle but he lets Nott set out his beloved cups, marvelling that they had not broken on the voyage. He shows her to some pre-made blends in pouches and lets her do the rest, leaning back against the wall and letting his heavy head droop.

  Nott is fastidiously careful as she handles Caduceus' most precious possessions. She can't quite believe he is actually letting her manage the process herself. It is kind of a gift, she realises.

She watches him critically as he takes the cup from here. Did his hands shake just a little? Her keen eyes spot a tiny wince with each swallow.

“Does your throat hurt?”

“Yeah, a little. The tea will help, I think.”

“Let me just-” Before he can protest, she reaches to feel his forehead for a fever.

Even with him sitting she has to stretch to reach. His brow is broader than the length of her hand. She thinks his dove-grey makes her green skin look more emerald than muddy, for once.

There's no heat there, that she can tell. She switches her palm for the back of her hand and then as an extra measure applies it to the side of his neck. Nothing to feel but soft, slightly damp firbolg. He looks at her curiously.

“No fever.” She tells him. “Yet. So I don't think you have what Beau had. But I'm keeping an eye on you.”

“I’ll bear that it mind.” He agrees mildly, and sips his tea. He knows full well he hasn't got whatever magical malaria had briefly sunk it's teeth into their human companion- he had a word with the biting insects and politely asked them to back off. 

Nott is satisfied with her work and comes to sit beside him with her own cup of tea, and she seems to finally have settled.

“Nott?” He asks. “Feeling calmer now?”

She draws a breath and makes a mental check of her heart, her lungs. “Yes. Yes, thank you. I’m fine now. I was just having… having a time.”

There is a long silence as they both sip. She nestles in closer beside him, filling the crook beneath his shoulder so that his arm is almost around her. He is so tall and soft that she feels particularly small and gnarly by comparison but it’s nice, too, being under the protection of someone so big. She wonders how it feels for him, being mothered by someone so small. Speaking of… 

“Caduceus?” She asks at last. “Were you maybe faking a little bit to get me to fuss over you? To calm me down, I mean?”

He laughs, then turns to look down at her with his lovely almond-shaped eyes and his brows in a solemn arch. 

“Well. Lots of people find helping someone else calms them down a lot, so there's that.” He pauses, scrubs at his face with the little sniff-swallow that is becoming more frequent. “I wish I was faking it for you. My nose feels really stuffed now.”

She makes a sympathetic face and is about to move beside him when there is a knock at the door.

It isn't loud, but the suddenness makes her jump as though she was slapped.

Nott feels ice cubes drop down into her gut, a sharp ache at the top of her chest and it's hard to get a good breath and it's starting again oh shit

She looks down, finds her claws pressing too hard into Caduceus' arms, sees his strong hands gently peeling them off. 

“It's okay. It's just Caleb, see? I think the noise made you jump.” He doesn't seem mad.

He's right, it is Caleb coming into the room with his cat in his arms, his ginger hair mussed and lank from the near-drowning, and a worried look that eases somewhat when he sees Nott.

“Ah, there you are.” He says. “Nott, are you okay?”

“She’ll be okay.” Caduceus tells him evenly. “That's good.” This last is directed to her with a warm hand rubbing her back.

Nott comes to herself enough to watch a couple of different expressions drift over her wizard's face. She wonders whether he might even be jealous that it is Caduceus easing her through this, the way she might be jealous if Caleb were to confide in someone else before herself. Talking her down from the panic is usually Caleb's job.

But Caleb doesn't seen to mind exactly.

“It seems I startled you.” Caleb says. “I am very sorry my friend.” 

“It's fine,” She reassures him. “I- it's nothing.”

What she loves about Caleb is that he doesn't force an explanation. He knows that sometimes people's minds don't work quite right and then their bodies follow. He just sinks down to sit beside them on Caduceus' makeshift bed and wraps his arms around Frumpkin, who is purring aggressively. Caleb doesn't look to be in good condition either. He moves as though his joints ache and his expression is deeply unsettled.

The firbolg between them is shivering again. Nott can feel his teeth chattering and apparently Caleb can too because he raises an eyebrow. Caduceus shrugs, pulls one of the blankets from the pile and adds his over his knees. He also sniffles audibly.

“He's getting sick.” Nott tells on him.

“There's no need to be concerned.” Caduceus begins.

“With respect,” Caleb tells him. “I agree with Nott. You don't look so good.”

“With respect,” Caduceus echoes, “neither do you.”

The wizard laughs. “Can we just agree that we all nearly drowned and we all look like shit and today was a really shitty day?”

“It was an incredibly shitty day.” Nott agrees.

She feels calmer now. It's nice, sandwiched into this tiny space with Caleb and Caduceus both together.

“It was a, uh, really quite a day.” Caduceus agrees. “But we all made it our alive and unharmed.”

It's a pity the firbolg has to sneeze immediately after that statement. Caleb doesn't seem to mind.

Nott winces at the sound. So does Caleb, and she notices him squeeze Caduceus' hand.

“Definitely coming down with something.” Caleb remarks. 

Nott tries to give him a told-you-so look but Caduceus looks so worn down that she can’t muster much fire in it. They sit together for a long time, just the three of them, collectively wincing when the ship crests a particularly huge wave. Eventually Caduceus sighs heavily and looks at them both. 

“If you don’t mind, I should probably try and get some sleep.” 

Caleb nods agreement and rises, reaching for Nott’s hand. “Do you think you could try to sleep, Nott? You can come in with me if you want?”

“Sure, I suppose so.” She agrees. She does feel better now but more importantly if she stays up, Caleb will stay up with her, and he needs his sleep or he’ll end up as sick as Caduceus. 

Before leaving she turns back to the firbolg and gives him a firm hug, trying to show her gratitude through the cling of her limbs. Caleb is less demonstrative but his voice is warm as he says, “Rest well.” 

So Caleb leads Nott back up to her cabin, her bony fingers nesting securely in his broader, bandaged-hands. She lets herself be taken. Let Caduceus sleep. 

………

Morning comes, bright and hot and wave-tossed. Nott wakes in Caleb’s hammock, curled over her boy’s legs like a stringy green cat. She takes a moment to assess the situation; they are out on the open sea in a ship filled with untrustworthy pirates, the opportunity to drown is still very present, but she feels a little better today. Her fear is back at it’s usual level;  lurking around the pit of her stomach rather than gripping her throat. Thank whatever gods are out here. 

Then she remembers. How is Caduceus?

He is usually an early riser. She’d expect to find him in the galley knocking up a meal or perhaps standing on the deck and looking out for land with a longing nearly as strong as her own. He must still be in bed. Nott seeks him out. 

Below decks the movement of the ship seems worse somehow. She stumbles whenever the floor pitches under her and makes a conscious effort not to think of fathoms of saltwater underneath her feet. 

Fjord has already vacated their shared quarters, if he even came back at all, and left a pile of blankets on the floor, rucked into a mountain range by the bony angles of a still sleeping Caduceus. Laying down, he is all limbs and knees and shoulder blades. For once she feels grateful for her goblin body, in that it curls in on itself easily. There is just too much firbolg and he is too skinny to make a ball for warmth. He looks like he would if he could. 

She shakes him gently, then harder. “‘Duceus? You in there?”

No answer, though his eyes open. Nott can see a bleary slither of pink which blinks out for an unsteady breath and a sneeze that just wrenches through him. Poor guy.

“I was going to ask how you’re feeling-?”

His answer is another sneeze, well-smothered into a handful of blankets, and a thick sniffle showing he can barely breathe through his nose. “I…” He tilts his head bashfully. “Yeah… that’s about the shape of it.” 

He raises up on one elbow and shakes his head as though testing his focus and finding it wanting. “Wow. Yeah. Not too good.”

“Oh no.” Nott comes to sit beside him and notes the flood of warmth released from under the bedclothes. She agrees. Not good at all. 

“Bit of a fever there, ‘Ducey,” she sighs.

He blinks at her muzzily. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“C’mere.” She crawls over and leans to lay her cheek against his forehead. There is a noticeable warmth, nothing alarming, just enough to make the big guy miserable for a day or two. 

“Mm, that’s nice.”

“Huh? Oh-” She adds her cold little hands to the sides of his face, first the backs and then the palms. “I can do that.”

When he leans in to the touch, she scoots close enough to give him a hug. She wishes her arms were a little longer but he seems to welcome it all the same. 

At that moment, the ship gives an especially noticeable roll. They shudder in unison and look queasily at each other. “I hate this. I can’t wait to be back on dry land.” Nott voices their shared thoughts.

“You and me both.” Caduceus nods. His eyes are weighing closed and he looks weak and shivery. He sniffles and it turns into a persistent, painful cough. 

“You should lie down. See if you can go back to sleep”

He lies down but keeps his eyes open, looking up at her. To Nott he suddenly looks really, tired and really, really sad. 

“Are you feeling worse? Should I get Jester?” 

He shakes his head, swallows hard. She can feel him shiver convulsively despite the warmth of the day. 

“No, no, it’s not that. Don’t tell Jester, she’ll worry and she’ll tell Fjord and he’ll worry. He needs to focus on the ship, he doesn’t have time for this-” a gesture to himself.

Caduceus continues in a husky whisper, “I don’t even mind getting sick, not really. Every creature has periods of weakness and then the Wildmother lifts them through it. But in the Grove, surrounded by my family, with evidence of her power everywhere, it wasn’t so bad. Out here it just…”

“Really sucks.” Nott finishes his thought.

“Yeah. Yeah. It really sucks.” He agrees 

His big eyes gleam with wetness at the corners and it hurts her heart. 

“Can I do anything for you?” Nott frets. “I could make some more tea?”

“Thanks.” He says through chattering teeth. “But I think I’ll just try and sleep it off.” 

 “Okay.” She twists her hands in the hem of her dress for want of something to help him. Maybe she should leave him to his misery. 

The ship is heaves from side to side again. They watch a loose copper coin slide across the floor when the angle changes. Nott grimaces. Her heart kicks in her chest as a unspoken voice says drowning, you’re drowning and you can’t breathe-

“Nott?” Caduceus’ deep voice cuts through the panic. “Would you… stay for a bit?” 

She must have given him some goblin-faced look because he retracts it immediately; “You don’t have to.”

“No, no. I’ll stay. I’d love to stay with you. I don’t want to go up there.” Her own voice is high and scratchy and fast and relieved. She returns to his bedside as though drawn by a magnet to his feverish form. 

Where he lies on his side there is a perfect, Nott-sized hollow made by his bent legs where she can lean her back against him and have a hand free to smooth along his flank. He reaches an arm over her lap to give her a squeeze  then tucks it back under his head, trying to find a way to rest his neck. The simmering, febrile heat of him is not unpleasant for her, though it makes him kick off his blankets. She can hear his breath getting shallower as his fever crests. 

She rises from the embrace only once, to dampen a rag with water from the canteen and lay it carefully on his brow. His eyes crack open and he manages a quiet, “thanks…” without truly surfacing from sleep. The soft, grateful tone nearly breaks her heart. 

Nott settles back at the head of his blanket nest, where she can reach to lift his sweaty hair from his neck. She sifts through it, allowing the breeze to reach his skin. His silken, goat-like ears are pressed back against his head and the effect is rather pitiful, even without the frown pulling down his mouth as he sleeps. 

“I hate seeing you like this.” She says to his drowsing form. “We need you better, ’Duceus. Who's going to make us  tea and remind us to eat and be the butt of jokes they don’t really understand?”

Caduceus must be more awake than she realised, because he turns his head to her. His eyes have a glassy sheen that make them look more like costume jewellery than rare sapphires. It’s not right at all. But he does manage a smile. 

“S’alright.” He slurs sleepily. “We can’t stay on the sea forever. And I’ll be okay. I’ve got all of you. And you’ve got me…” 

He rolls over. Nott feels some tension she wasn’t aware of leaving her body. Maybe she could sleep too, just for a little.

At different times during the morning, both Caleb and Fjord crack open the door to the cabin. Greeted by the sight of two unlikely bedfellows, they carefully push it closed again and turn away. Lots of things are going wrong for the Mighty Nein, but they are doing right by each other. That’s a comfort. 

END.

Thanks for coming with me on this wild ride. I’m not spelling out sneezes these days, idk why.

[xopinkmilk18xo]

Get to know me!

1. Name

Courtney Jane Smith

2. Nationality

Australian

3. Age

18

4. Birthday

11th December 2001

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign)

Sagittarius / Ophiuchus

6. Gender

Female

7. Sexuality

Bisexual💙💖💜

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)

Ew I know

9. What do you/did you study?

I will be going on to study Children’s Nursing at University but in school I studied Sociology, Photography and Childcare

10. What’s your current job like?/What job would you like to have?

I currently hold a part time job at my local corner shop, but will hopefully end up with a job as a children’s nurse or something to do with childcare:)

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11. Your birth order

Aaron, Charlotte, Abbey, Me:), Lacey

(I think that is what this means)

12. How many siblings do you have?

4

13. Do you have good relations with your family?

Yes but not with my first oldest sister

14. How many friends do you have?

Like 2 lol

15. Your relationship status

Taken🥰

16. What do you look for in a SO?

Good personality, being good looking helps (dont want to date a troll u know) and well I guess that’s it really

17. Do you have a crush?

Yes on my boyfriend

18. When did you have your first kiss?

When I was 14

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?

Serious and meaningful

20. What are your deal breakers?

I’m not really sure:/

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21. How was your day?

It was okay, could’ve been better but overall it was meh

22. Favourite food & drink

I love pasta like I could marry pasta haha. And my favourite drink is probably either fresh orange juice or something fizzy

23. What position do you sleep in?

On my side, hugging my pillow with my leg out as if it’s straddling someone (I’m lonely, my boyfriend needs to stay over at some point)

24. What was your last dream about?

I honestly wish I could remember but they are so fucking crazy right now

25. Your fears

Spiders, snakes, heights, large crowds, death (morbid I know) and being lonely:(

26. Your dreams

To travel the world with my baby🥺 as well as buy my own house, get my dream career, get married and have babies (basic I know but this is what I want in life and will feel so lucky and blessed if this happens)

27. Your goals

Same as the above I guess? To travel the world with the loml, become a child nurse, get my dream house then get married, have babies and live a happy long life:)

28. Any pets?

Yes! A cat called Binka and a dog called Shiro (Japanese for White as he is a white Japanese Akita)

29. What are your hobbies?

Cooking, baking, cleaning (weird I know), singing, dancing and sleeping haha

30. Any cool places in your area?

Um, I mean I live about 30 minutes from the beach and it has a “hidden cave” (it’s quite easy to spot if you know where it is) that I go to with a few friends some nights and watch the sunset. So that’s pretty cool

31. What was your last awkward situation?

They happen so often I don’t even know which one to write about I’m such an awkward person lol

32. What is your last regret?

I don’t know really

33. Language/s you can speak

I can speak Italian, Spanish, Russian and some French

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.)

To a certain extent, yes

35. Have any quirks?

Um I’m not sure?

36. Your pet peeves

I have so many but my BIGGEST pet peeve is the people who like to one-up a situation so I have a friend like this but she’s like one of my only friends so I don’t want to say anything woops but for example I could say to her “I only got 5 hours sleep” she would then turn around and be like “oh well I went to bed at 11 and woke up at 3am and couldn’t sleep” it’s like okay cool but stop trying to one up me thank u bye

37. Ideal vacation

DisneyWorld or Bora Bora (two complete different places I know but I’ve been to both many times and they’re both amazing)

38. Any scars?

I have a scar on my chin from when I hit it on the stair rail when I was a child and I have a surgery scar from when I had my appendix removed

39. What does your last text message say?

It’s me texting my email to my boyfriend because he needed it for something (kinda personal nothing bad tho)

40. Last 5 things from your search history

Majority of it right now is me googling Birthday presents for a family member as well as flight times because I was curious what the time from LA to Texas was haha

41. What’s your [device] background?

Lock screen is me and my boyfriend and my home screen is a flower picture I took

42. What do you daydream about?

A lot of different things, it all depends on how I’m feeling

43. Describe your dream home

Something small and quaint yet modern and big enough to raise a big family

44. What’s your religion/Your thought about religion

I have nothing against religion and what people believe in. I personally am not religious but I do believe in something. Not God or Jesus but I believe that something like that HAS to exists (sorry if I offended anyone I really did not mean to:/)

45. Your personality type

Really shy and quiet (social anxiety tings😚dont worry I have actually been diagnosed) but ince you get to know me I come out of my shell a bit more

46. The most dangerous thing you’ve done

Went sky diving (it was terrifying)

47. Are you happy with your current life?

Yes but no

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life

I don’t really know how the hell to answer this question I’m sorry🥺

-

49. What does your wardrobe consist of?

A lot of different colours but I wear mainly grey and black clothes hehe

50. Favourite colour to wear?

Black or grey🤪

51. How would you describe your style?

I don’t really know, definitely not trendy I can tell you that but all the styles I want to try I just KNOW will look bad on me

52. Are you happy with your current looks?

Not really no lol😚✌🏼

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?

I honestly would change my entire face, especially my nose, if it was smaller I’d feel slightly better about my appearance (nothing against big noses lol I just don’t like mine)

54. Any tattoos or piercings?

I had my ears and nose pierced but took them out and just forgot to put them back in and now the holes have sorta closed up.

I then also have a small turtle on my ankle - for a close friend (still alive lol but it’s just a nice thing to have) and I have plans to get a few more just need to decided when I want them because I keep chickening out

55. Do you get complimented often?

Yes sorta but only by my boyfriend

56. Favourite aesthetic?

I’m not sure?

57. A popular trend that you dislike

I’m not really aware of any popular trends as of right now tbh

-

58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with?

Adore You by Harry Styles and for some reason Feel so Close by Calvin Harris

59. Song you normally wouldn’t admit you like.

Mr Brightside - I hate the song (dont attack me pls) but it lowkey, high key is a BOP

60. Favourite genre?

Mainly throwback songs so I guess pop songs? Tbh my genre of music is all over the place

61. Favourite artist/band/genre?

I love 5 Seconds of Summer and One Direction but that’s it really

62. Hated popular songs/artists?

I HATE Dance Monkey and High Hopes (they get on my nerves so much idk why)

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5

September - Earth Wind & Fire

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

Jealous - Labrinth

Bad Romance - Halestorm (such a bop)

Break Free - Ariana Grande

64. Can you sing or play any instruments?

I can sing, I also play piano and guitar (strings have broken though and so haven’t played in a while)

65. Do you like karaoke?

I LOVE karaoke

66. Own any albums?

Yes, mainly 5SOS and One Direction haha

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations?

Sometimes, no particular station as I only listen to it to fill in the silence in certain situations

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68. Favourite movie/series?

I love the Frozen films but also the Harry Potter films sooooo much

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc

I don’t really have a favourite tbh

70. Your fictional crush/es

I know it’s typical but I have the biggest crush on Harry Potter lol

71. Which fictional character is you?

I don’t know?

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so

No not really

73. Favourite greek god?

I don’t have a favourite Greek god but I like Athena purely because I like the name haha

74. A legend from where you live that you like

I don’t really know of any legends however there is a myth that a Panther is on the loose in the Blue Mountains

75. Do you like art? What’s your favourite work or artist?

I like to look at art and admire it however I do not have a favourite artist or anything like that

76. Can you share your other social media?

I sure can:)

Twitter       Instagram      Wattpad

Snapchat - cjmushmush (you don’t have to add it and also don’t question the name I was 11)

77. Favourite youtubers?

Shane Dawson, Ryland Adams, Morgan Adams, Jeffree Star and The Dolan Twins

78. Favourite platform?

I am obsessed with Tik Tok so I’d say that’s probs my fave

79. How much time do you spend on the internet?

Far too much I can tell you that

80. What video games have you played? Which one’s your favourite?

I used to play minecraft and now all I do is play Sims 3 and 4 which are my absolute faves

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts)

I don’t really have any

82. Do you play board/card games?

Yes but not very often

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema?

No I didn’t even know that was a thing

84. Favourite holiday

I LOVE CHRISTMAS SO MUCH❤️💚❤️💚

85. Are you into dramas?

Yes

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86. Would you use death note, if you had one?

I don’t know what a death note is?

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?

I wouldn’t choose world peace because then everything would be the same and it would be boring but if I had the power I would make sure everyone had a stable home with at least hot clean water and a nice warm bed, as well as curing world hunger because I’m nice like that

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse?

Probably not

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?

A ghost

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?

Become a ghost haha

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?

Anything but Courtney - my name was almost Octavia so that would also be out of the question

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week?

So many people I’d love to do this with so I’m not sure

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo

🦥 (only because I love sloths)

94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true

(these are the most random things I’m sorry)

I was born in the UK (not true, born in Sydney)

I am not single (True, I am in a relationship:))

I love avocado (I actually DESPISE IT)

-

95. Cold or hot?

Cold because that can = snuggles duh

96. Be a hero or be a villain?

Be a villain because I hate the attention (hero would probs get a lot of attention) and everyone hates me anyway lol

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?

Probably sing everything considering I do that a lot anyway

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time?

Control time because I’d go back to the past a change some things then go back to today so I can still be with my boyfriend❤️

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?

Be immortal that would be pretty fun

100. ….. or …..?

What does this one even mean?