#it's the constant balance of 'there are some folks i genuinely like that i have no connection with outside this platform' and

[starlit-mansion]

to be honest... i barely glanced at tumblr for the last 3 days and i'm only looking at it now because work is too boring to deal with without distracting myself, and i honestly did feel a lot better without it

[pacific-rimbaud]

i'm curious how do you feel about dramione community now?

i'm a new writer, long time reader and can't help but feel like the fandom and the ship changed so much and i wonder if i even have a place in it anymore.

there's so much demand for the writers from the readers (constant update demands, no willingness to engage with wips) and at the same time i've been in a couple of dramione writer communities where other writers are openly pressuring each other to either start tiktok or finish the fic before posting it (the new dramione writers society discord server specifically).

particularly upset when i see people advising each other to commission art to promote their fic for writing.

it seems like that space for writers to be just writers becomes smaller and smaller and readers are not interested in the fandom but rather the next hot fic that's getting traction.

and all that combined with the overall hatred toward dramione as a ship outside of dramione.

I've genuinely stopped writing because of this. and i'm sad that i lost that one hobby that made me feel good, as it now seems like a popularity contest more than just fandom fun.

you seem like you're able to balance your love for writing with the changed landscape of the fandom. at least from the outside posts :D

DHr grew exponentially in the short time I spent in the ship, and that growth will only accelerate as big name fandom writers continue to enter traditional publishing with seven-figure book and film deals.

Life is change. Change is death. It's okay to grieve what's gone and won't come back.

And I want to add: keep writing. No matter what. But that would be hypocritical. I haven't written in a year, and remain deeply uncertain about whether or not I'll take it up again. It's a real puzzle.

The relevant questions seem to be: why do I want to write? And: what spaces feel nurturing to me as a writer?

The first one's easy. I write because I like the films I see in my head. I like the way language sounds. I like to experience the past, and to be swept away by intense emotions. It's like having a Holodeck in my head. And sometimes, when everything clicks, I get to describe my little bespoke scenarios in words that make a nice sound when they rub up against one another.

I'm waiting on a good answer to the second question. All I know is that art, criticism and commerce have always been an incredibly awkward ménage à trois. No shade to folks seeking to work the fandom algorithm and secure the bag (posting already completed work on a schedule, writing popular tropes and characterizations, and using original art in social media marketing are all great ways to do that). Whether money changes hands or merely attention (which can be converted into money), that's commerce having its turn at the wheel.

I'm suspicious that my creative brain is commerce-repulsed. Maybe yours is, too. So it goes.

I'm certain that we shouldn't let that keep us off the Holodeck.

So. Make a deal with me. I promise to run some freaky little scenarios in the simulator this summer if you'll do the same. Then let's meet in the limestone cave and paint our blorbos by candlelight. Let's tell them around the campfire. Come draw them with me in the sand.

[intertexts]

tell me more about dakota cole gon hunter hunter I literally know. nothing abt that anime give me ur propaganda. ramble 2 me forever and ever I wanna KNOW

I HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE IN FOR!!!!!!

god. okay. hunter x hunter is a shonen manga by yoshihiro togashi that's been in serialization since '98 & has had two separate anime adaptions. i'm gonna be talking abt the '11 adaption, since that's the one ive been watching! (sidenote: started hxh because of the podcast media club plus which is easily one of my favorite podcasts everrr incredibly good analysis has really affected the way i think about media analysis & criticism extremely fucking fun awesome dynamics btwn folks who are 1) very well known for having extremely good media opinions & 2) great friends who have been friends for a long time & just a delight to listen to. its a great time regardless of whether u r watching the show or not highly recommend if u ever need a new work or commute podcast etc) also disclaimer that i'm only on episode 62 of the show. so.

anyway. the hxh plot:

i will not get into the plot much because it's not as important for the dakota gon isms. but its this. ^!!

so hxh is, overall, a homage to and deconstruction of its genre tropes. togashi very much loves and enjoys a ton of the tropes he's playing with and very obviously delights in subverting just as many of them. it balances these wildly disparate tones of classic, bright candy colored shonen magical worlds and powers and big fights with genuine, seriously-considered violence, cruelty, sinister power structures and all the other heavy consequences of splashy ultraviolence. [RINGS THE PD BELL!!!] the whiplash is ridiculous sometimes-- the ease with which the show cuts from the last survivor of a genocide (kind, reasonable, soft-spoken) turning to self-destructive revenge that is quite literally destroying him from the inside out, taking an immense toll on him and his relationships with the people he loves, becoming a murderer in cold blood (& of course we spend time with the man he murders beforehand, and he's fucking awful, but also human, and has friends and shit, & it's very clear that this is something dreadful and not just a cool fight)-- to like, the two twelve-year-old main characters concocting a fucking ridiculous scheme to corner the antiques market so they get a billion dollars to buy a viddy game & one of the twelve year olds faces turns into a little >:3 kitty face whenever hes doing something sneaky & there's some cartoon ass shopkeeper scamming them, is wild. and neither of them are the "correct tone," right? the whole thing is a balance between the modes & takes them both seriously & at their own value. [RINGS THE PD BELL] so like. literally since a couple episodes into prime defenders ive been like oh, yeah, this tracks, i'm not bothered by the constant juxtaposition of stupid ass bits with genuinely serious moments, this is obviously influenced by hxh. which, like, i still can't say if that was intentional or not. but hxh is one of The manga of all time & was & still is incredibly influential (sasuke of sasuke fame is a knockoff of a hxh character btw), so i have no doubt that it was an ingredient in the mix somehow!

anyway. gon, who is literally dakota, is the protag! hes the little boy who set off to find out whats so great about cigarettes :) he is a kid who was raised by his aunt who he has a complicated relationship with after his mother was killed and his father disappeared, and he grew up in the woods and is very very strong and fast and good at fighting because he grew up in the woods!! fucking feral little creature boy who fights with a fishing rod and talks to animals and has an incredible sense of smell. gon does some shit, leaves the island, makes some friends, gets groomed by a creepy fucking pedophile which he thinks is fine, gets brutally tortured for a very very uncomfortably long time, which he thinks is fine, becomes a hunter (which is great he has awesome lines of credit now!) it's still unclear what a hunter is or does, but they have lots of power and can do pretty much whatever they want. anyway, he wants to be the best and the strongest and he loves fighting for fun, for the sake of fighting and being good at what he does!!!! and he also wants to find his dad. and definitely doesn't have any unresolved issues from the fact that his mom is dead its fine he doesn't even want to know anything about her its chill and also his dad's so cool so whatever he was doing was for sure more important than him so it doesn't matter that he abandoned him! the crux of gon as a character is that he is very silly and often kind and very much a kid, and he does not fucking care what happens to himself. he is fine with getting the shit beaten out of him by people twice his age he is cheerfully oblivious to and makes excuses for almost every single adult taking advantage of him or being just awful to him, when it's very obvious in the narrative that it is bad and not good, he's self-destructively reckless and impulsive and fixated on what he thinks is good and right and also on becoming the best and strongest even if he burns out fast and he loves his friends so so so much. and simultaneously also he's a sillygoofy kid who does dumb shit with his best friend ever (gay) n worries about his pals n stuff. its okay if he burns himself out and gets himself hospitalized for months its okay if people hurt him and take advantage of him and get off on the idea of killing him but its NOT ok if his friends even THINK about taking a risk like that >:(( head in hands. anyway. yeah. fun silly adventures strange beasts and foreign lands and wild cartoon shenanigans and very explicit horror and gore!! with often brutal and terrible consequences that leave you feeling kind of sick!!! where have i heard that before!!!!!!!!!!

[fxirybun]

i swear we never had this much issue honestly 90s was the only last moderately "normal" times bc its just been nuts even from observing kpop and other things from afar

and whats dishartening as well is that the groups u do want to succeed cannot do so bc of knetz not supporting them enough and u know the moment u faves get into dating or whatever that all hell will break loose online again i just cant be fcking with that unhealthy type of attachment / behaviour. then whenever u go to idols personal contrnt on youtube or other platforms like toktoq or tiktok it always seems the comment section eventually winds up being out of hand or immature so it makes it hard to get a genuine compliment or message across to them bc their audiences is largely young folk nowadays even the groups i used to like are still around but the audience is different or more unhinged than it was when i left them lmao. its like i thought fan bases were usually extreme but its ramped up much more in current times

somenoe my age aint going to want to associate with that sort of behaviour same for going to the airport and stalking out their hotels or other private moments seem childish or silly. and the way folk overreact to idols doing things required of them like military service if anything i think its nice for them to get a break from idol activities they buff up a bit too but its smth else that their hard core fans take to heart and make a scene abt anything to do with idols these days. be it their slight weight change or their idfk something activity they did online that sparked chaos blah blah u get the picture lol. i think u can inly really casually enjoy these groups in ur own way than following the rest of their younger fans. plus its actually crazy to me how different it all become yet time aint stopping for nobody. rlly it feels bizzare like anyone got a functioning tardis yet? i also think these unhealthy obsessions ppl have to idols is bc before u could just put the hobbies down and do smth else now its like everyones online all the time everything anyone popular does is also online its kind of a making of their own doing at the same time.

well you got a point 'cause the landscape of fandom in kpop has shifted significantly over the years. the 90s and early 2000s definitely felt like a more balanced time in terms of fan behavior and celebrity culture , both in the west and internationally. though these days the intensity of fan culture has ramped up to a point where some fans seem to feel entitled to every aspect of idols' lives , and how the influence of social media brings more fire to this behavior.

it can be exhausting for fans who simply just want to enjoy their songs and support their fave groups without getting involved in all the chaos and drama that often unfolds online. again , the unhealthy attachments fans form , particularly with younger audiences make it even harder for idols to live normal lives. when issues like dating , military service , or even minor personal changes become seen as massive scandals. the internet allows all users for constant access due to its versatility and how other platforms like tiktok , twitter , and youtube can turn some innocent content into a battleground that is filled with negative comments.

for long-time fans like yourself it can be annoying to watch these behaviors which is making it harder to engage with idols or fandoms in a meaningful way without being dragged into some petty drama.

if you're going to ask me , enjoying kpop or any form of entertainment without getting sucked into the extreme parts of the fandom culture seems like the healthiest route , as everything has become so hyperconnected and fast-paced. with the constant flow of online content and real-time updates , it’s easy to see why fans feel more intense about their idols , but it’s also important to create boundaries.

and yes , things have changed drastically and while it's bizarre to watch it unfold , there's also comfort in enjoying these groups from a distance and focusing on what truly matters: the music and the concept behind those songs , rather than the havoc surrounding it.

[coldalbion]

THINGS WOT I HAVE LEARNT AFTER BEING VIRTUALLY HOUSEBOUND FOR 3 YEARS THAT MAY BE HELPFUL TO THOSE IN SELF ISOLATION AND/OR LOCKDOWN DURING THE CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC

(Background: I have a lifelong disability and am a wheelchair user. After surgery I’ve basically been stuck living and sleeping in one room for three years. These are things I have learnt which may help, though with the caveat that everyone is different, and baseline mental health varies.)

1. YOUR MENTAL HEALTH WILL PROBABLY SUFFER - and although humans are social creatures, even the most introverted will chafe against boundaries enforced upon them by circumstance. The degree to which it suffers will be related to your mental health baseline and physical health. Understand that this IS NOT YOUR FAULT. Stimuli and enrichment methods are required. It’s why animals need such things in zoos and conservation parks. This leads us on to my next point.

2. COMPREHEND WHICH ACTIVITIES ARE ACTIVE AND PASSIVE FOR YOU Spending your confinement solely doing passive things (watching TV, Netflix, browsing the internet, scrolling through the internet) will take a load off your brain and make the time pass quicker. But if that’s all you do, the sense of disconnection increases over time. Activities which require you to *do* something, even if it’s just engaging your motor skills via video games, or lifting some cans of beans, or actively reading - these deliberate acts foster a tiny sense of achievement which gives your brain a dose of helpful chemicals. If you want to consider your activities, look up the work of Marshall McLuhan as regards “hot media” and “cold media” (See https://mediawiki.middlebury.edu/MIDD…/Hot_versus_cool_media for basic premise.) Balancing out your media intake with hot and cold activities keeps your brain active and pumping tasty neurotransmitters.

3. LIMIT YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA USAGE TO SOCIAL PURPOSES. Infinite scrolling as found on many social media platforms is a hot medium, as per McLuhan. The reason Likes exist is to give that little spike of interactivity. It’s not a conspiracy to say many platforms are designed to keep you on them so they can show you more ads. (See also https://www.theguardian.com/…/has-dopamine-got-us-hooked-on… which explains the brain chemistry angle) However, DM’s and other messaging faculties are supremely useful. Use them to interact with your friends, indulge your fandom theories. Person to person interaction requires and enhances deep-seated neurological and biophysical reflexes. Text your mates. Skype/Facetime or otherwise call them. Use the technology of the 21st century for genuine social ends, deliberately. Catch up with their lives one to one or in groupchats.

4. PICK TIMES TO CHECK THE NEWS AND STICK TO THEM. This relates to point 3 - unfortunately we live in a 24hr news cycle, with constant liveblogging of important issues. This means that we’re constantly streaming anxiety inducing situations into our brains JUST IN CASE. That’s not helpful, particularly when you can’t actually DO anything about those events - the urge to DO something is why people are panic-buying. It’s a very basic primordial need to grab resources for defence. By picking times of the day to check news, you are again, making a DELIBERATE CHOICE, enacting some small level of agency, while at the same time limiting anxiety-inducing stimuli. If the news gets too much, then don’t check it as much - or at all - and do something else.

5. IF YOU DO THINGS WITH FRIENDS, SEE IF YOU CAN DO THEM ONLINE. Run that game of DnD/Other TTRPG you’ve been meaning to. Hold your book club online. Have a few drinks online over voice-chat if you are missing the pub. Hold watch parties for your favourite shows. The key, as ever, is to be engaged rather than passive. It’s harder if you’re ill, yes, but it can be done.

6. USE YOUR IMAGINATION TO CREATE THINGS. Write that fanfic. Start that novel. Design that game. Doodle. Paint. Humans have been creating since the day we became human. Consider things from the perspective of a pre-modern person. Make handprints on your own personal cave wall - contact each other and tell spooky stories. Build a complex fantasy world. Write an account of your confinement for some person to find pieces of years after you’re gone from the world. Think about a problem, and learn how to solve it via taking online classes (See http://www.openculture.com/freeonlinecourses) Write an essay on your chosen passion or hyperfixation - nobody needs to read it but you. Treat yourself to intellectual stimulation, if that’s your thing.

7. IF YOU HAVE A SPIRITUAL. RITUAL, OR MEDITATIVE PRACTICE DO IT. It doesn’t matter if it’s not perfect, or limited in scope. This also includes atheists and those who despise woo - you have personal rituals, things you do that have Meaning to you as a person. Maybe it;s alphabetizing your music collection, or spring cleaning or cooking your favourite meal like grandma used to make. Humans have patterns they perform. When you perform them DELIBERATIVELY (or dare I say MINDFULLY) you become aware that these are the scaffolds that structure human life.

8. STRUCTURE YOUR TIME. Following on from 7, we often don’t realise the structure of our lives until it is disrupted. When that’s removed, our minds can go into freefall. If you’re isolated/in lockdown, oftentimes you won’t be able to access those structures. Rather than wait for them to to become accessible again and risk a period of feeling lost and directionless, which can enhance depression and anxiety, it’s best to develop a new structure based on the resources you have. It can be as loose or as strict as you like, but sticking to it allows us to develop a rhythm which makes time pass in recognisable fashion and gives us a sense of being-in-the-world as some sort of engaged process.

9. KEEP YOUR SLEEP PATTERN REGULAR AND LONG ENOUGH. The key here is REGULAR. Following on from 8, it’s important to keep your body well rested, as this aids your immune system and cuts down on the possibility of your body having to deal with stress . If you’re ill it’s harder to keep this regular, because sometimes your body just needs sleep to regenerate NOW. Equally in isolation, particularly if you’re feeling mentally low, it can be tempting to sleep forever, because y’know, you’re feeling low and what’s the point. (Of course the point is why we have 8 in particular, along with all the rest.)

OBVIOUSLY EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT. Particularly for those with disabilities or chronic illnesses, we may be even more limited in our activities while isolated than able bodied folks. That said, the key is to remember that certainly during this pandemic, and otherwise YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE FEELING THIS WAY. Rubbish as it may be, many are in the same boat. If it pleases you to, seek them out - see what commonalities you have, what hopes and dreams and fascinations you may share. FIND THE OTHERS - it’s what humans have always done.

Be well.

[davyjoneslockr]

since you said no one has asked for fugo yet, fugo!

Let's fucking goooo

favorite thing about them: He's just so fascinating on like every level. His whole backstory (whether you go with the anime or PHF, I personally headcanon a mixture of both), the constant conflict he's in with himself that's symbolized by his hatred of his own stand, Purple Haze having so much symbolic meaning (the anger obviously, the fact that he can hurt himself just as easily as others, his inability to undo the virus once it's infected someone at first, PHF MAKING HIM ABLE TO COUNTERACT THE VIRUS/HELP FIX HIS OWN MISTAKES EVEN IF IT'S NOT A PERFECT CURE, the persistent cleaning of both his body and soul/conscience, I could go on), and all of the internal stuff that we get to see in PHF... even the meta stuff with Araki designing him as a traitor who would eventually have to face off against Giorno... ughhhh... he's my main blorbo for a reason

least favorite thing about them: I know my bio says "Fugo apologist" and all, but. Lowkey. I won't justify him leaving the gang. It was rational and smart and it made sense with his character, sure, but I still fully believe it was a dick move. I rewatched VA with a friend recently and was like "ughhh fuck you Fugo you fucking suck" at the screen during the boat scene, and my friend just looked at me like "??? Isn't he your favorite boy???" Yes, he is my favorite boy, but he is deeply flawed and kind of an asshole <3

favorite line:

Actually though, I know everyone says this, but his whole speech to Giorno in the Soldier in Love scene makes me lose my marbles every time. Also, his "Sheila E's anger is my anger!" etc etc before the final fight is. Hell yeah

brOTP: Torture Dance Trio <33333 Their friendship is so bittersweet and tragic but also a goldmine for comedic potential. They love each other so dearly and will stay up all night together if someone is having nightmares, but they also dare each other to drink Monster mixed with chocolate milk and get into fistfights over Tony Hawk Pro Skater

OTP: Hi I love Fugio so very very much. Narrative foils are like. My favorite thing ever. And there's something really cool and poetic about two people who are so fundamentally opposite, but ultimately come to understand and balance each other in a way that no one else quite can, if that makes sense. They allow for each other to heal, but also gently push towards growth, and like. At the end of the day. They're just two incredibly awkward teenagers who have gotten in over their heads in tragic situations, and the concept of them getting to experience some semblance of youth in their clumsy little young love is really sweet. I guarantee none of that makes sense, but uh. tldr I have a lot of Fugio thoughts floating around in my head constantly. (Also, not to be obvious, but literally every aspect of PHF? Yeah. The lyrics to A Solider in Love are literally about a man leaving for war and longing to return to his lover once his mission's complete. It's not subtle.)

nOTP: I mean like. Aside from the obvious gross shit like him x Bucciarati/Abbacchio, I don't really have issues with most ships involving him? I guess Fugo x Sheila, for reasons I mentioned in the Sheila post, and also because I headcanon them both as gay lol

random headcanon: Since Araki won't give him a canon music taste, I will. 100% dead serious he loves Weezer. He also really likes REM, The Smiths, The Cure, and a lot of classic rock. He wasn't allowed to listen to pop music growing up, so once he joined the gang, his music taste sort of became an amalgamation of the other gang members'; Bucciarati got him into classic rock, and Abbacchio introduced him to the alternative stuff. Secretly, he really likes Narancia's rap/hip-hop and Mista's folk and soft rock, too, but he's too pretentious to admit it. Also, he's a good singer.

unpopular opinion: I mean. I think liking him in the first place is still sort of an unpopular opinion. But he's genuinely my favorite JJBA character, which is maybe a hot take. Oh also I like his anime color palette sorry

song i associate with them: Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown by The Rolling Stones is the Fugo Song Ever and I am Adamant about this (also I have a little playlist for him on Spotify, it's kinda bad but. eh)

favorite picture of them: Give him back his stupid emo bangs,,, please they are important

[morkaischosen]

It’s a one of those tag questionnaires! Tagged by @goingsparebutwithprecision​

Relationship status:  Polyunsaturated.

Favorite color(s):  Scarlet takes the top spot; rich blues are in contention.

Favorite food: I’m struggling to think of anything on the “nice as a treat end” so today I’m going to give due respect to the chickpea dhal that comes in tins from Sainsbury’s and gives me something I genuinely enjoy with minimal effort.

Song stuck in my head: One of the various NieR tracks the GM of the post-apocalyptic D&D game I’m playing uses as backing music, which I have more recently run into from actually playing the game.

Last thing you googled:Transport plans for this weekend’s larp; before that, the Mario movie trailer, because I was curious.

Time:  09.54

Dream trip: I’m primarily friends-motivated! I’ve been managing to see my Cambridge gang more frequently recently, which is great (although I should drop in on the Cambridge larpers again too!); in order of distance the other major ones are to go and see larp-adjacent folks in York and Durham, and (one day!) maybe visit the US to meet up with the Jennachat gang and/or divers other US mutuals.

Last thing you read: Currently halfway through an nth reread of The Lies Of Locke Lamora; I’m just up to the bit where everything’s gone to shit and then some more shit starts looming from a different direction. Lastr thing I finished reading: short story Informed Consent Logs from the Soul-Swap Clinic.

Last book you enjoyed reading: I’m enjoying the current Lamora reread, and the last book I finished was Ann Leckie’s The Raven Tower, which, holy shit big recommend. I love what it does with its concept of divinity, the narrative voice is really interesting, and it hit me with at least one “I saw that coming! :D “ and at least one “oh I did NOT see that coming and it makes SO much sense. :D “

Last book you hated reading: Chronology is fake - this definitely isn’t most recent, but I was recently reminded of Blindsight, which has a bunch of interesting hard SF going on that I absolutely wasn’t able to take in because I was so infuriated by the narrator’s life’s work being in “analyse systems but only if you’re not part of them,” which is utterly incompatible with the worldview of acknowledging connection I’d started constructing even back when I read it, and the even more ludicrous “like the crew of this spaceship, when I am also on this spaceship and they have to account for my use of resources.” Maybe that’s meant to be infuriating! Sometimes I like an unreliable narrator who’s full of shit. But I think I read it when I was just close enough to having started working on transforming myself away from the kind of person who’d unironically buy into that sort of thing that the whole time I was reading, my internal monologue was a constant muttered “fuck offffff”.

Favorite thing to cook/bake: I’ve never quite got into baking and kind of want to try! Cooking’s been falling by the wayside for a while, but I like risotto - it takes patience and it’s best done in company, but it’s got a good balance of “doing a process” without going too wrong if my attention slips for a minute.

Favorite craft to do in your free time: I got back into Warhammer about this time last year - I painted up a whole Craftworld Eldar army over the next six months or so, and I have a few more bits to do for that, plus I’ve started working on some Chaos Space Marines. Really enjoying having something creative to do, although I’ve not done much for a few weeks; I’m sure I’ll be back to it before too long.

Most niche dislike: It’s hard to summon them up on command because I mostly forget my dislikes exist when I’m not faced with them. Some examples: I get pettily and unreasonably annoyed when people do custom Magic card designs (often as fanworks, like “here’s how I’d do a card for Iolithae Septimian from Nobilis” or whatever) and the mechanics are templated wrong.

Opinion on circuses:  No strong opinions in general. A fair number of specifics will spin up depending on context.

Do you have any sense of direction:  Some, but I work mostly off landmarks.

Tell us about your D&D tatterpig characters: Current active RP characters include: Ulrike Sturm aka Io, Demon: The Descent - a dual-Agenda Saboteur/Inquisitor, a weird nerd of a power-grid engineer who feels strongly that the God-Machine is self-evidently broken so we should smash it with hammers, see how it breaks, and build something new and better with what we learn. Builds model train layouts and then derails them as a hobby. Rivet aka Frog, Sun and Earth (my friend Ian’s post-apocalyptic D&D campaign where his usual “your gods will not turn out to be weather satellites or something” OOC promise is explicitly not in effect, and our gods appear to be weather satellites or something): a Napa warrior, that is, a laughing daredevil who enjoys throwing herself into the teeth of danger and seeing if she’s up to it. Deeply mystical with it - as far as she’s concerned threat and danger are part of the order of the world as built by the elemental Four, and her beloved patron Water most of all. (I went with ‘play a Napa who cares deeply about Water’ for half ‘Napa sounds fun and there’s a cultural thing there’ and half ‘Water herself is trans according to our myths and magically gives people medical transition, a part of the setting that I had a lot of influence in developing, and it’d be rude and also a waste not to play with that.) Has superpowers won by drinking the glowing blood from the hearts of the great Machines that stalk the Basin, which her people hunt for parts and also the sacred challenge of it - mechanically, she’s a Way of Shadow Monk, and last night I got to do a thing I’ve wanted to do since I picked the subclass, viz. teleport into the enemy back-line to punch their wizard so they couldn’t keep doing wizard shit at us.

Tag-list: today I am in a “don’t quite feel confident in asking this of people” mood so I’m just going to throw this out!

[larrythefloridaman]

Y'all like your deities with or without the shell?

Under the readmore is aaaaaaaaall color god observations and musings based on them, because I am studying to become the world's Premiere Chromatheologian and RGB Understander so under the cut is pretty much Oops! All Spoilers! up to the most recent episode of season 3.

Apparently Universal Color God Attributes:

Damage to their domain hurts them, but fixing the issue, or lashing out by using their powers destructively, can help them to repair the damage.

If they sustain enough damage, it can temporarily paralyze them and send them into a strengthened but 'exposed' state (chartreuse's spirit activation in the last fight of 19) and further damage after that will activate a failsafe, which is unique by domain but seemingly designed to give them the chance to balance things, but can get… very out of hand or backfire depending on circumstances. (see: cobalt’s failsafe sending mark's universe into a never-ending apocalyptic war because word of the cure for death became too widespread for the killing urge failsafe to affectively balance anything because every side could simply revive their fallen.)

Chartreuse's failsafe is something of a stopped time bubble quarantine where processes that require the passing of time cannot complete, allowing her the time to wear down the offending party to beat them to death or plan around finishing them.

Cobalt's is inciting war, the casualties serving to balance the scale. I'm not sure we know Crimson's yet- he's never taken enough direct damage without doing damage to compensate in order to trigger it, although i dont remember season one well enough to recall if any of the universe stuff in it tracks with the pattern bc season one is a bit fucky

Connected in a fashion that allows them to simply Sense the overall status of the others to some extent, although they don't know Why theyre in the state theyre in without asking (chartreuse [and by extension, folk, presumably on her information] confronting crimson via crimsonaut for pretending to be dead, Cobalt confronting both his siblings about how they are handling their duties improperly but not knowing about Folk. He knew about the constants deaths because hes a death god, duh, but he didnt use their names like crimson did, possibly implying they're erased upon death so thoroughly that only crimson and the constants can really recall a shattered constants' existence, not even the other guardians.)

Abilities of the guardians can be replicated by mortals through three apparent methods- through machines (dimensional bus, the time machine, presumably J0hn's part in Sephiroth's resurrection,) simply through advanced enough individual skill (Home MD curing death, potentially Dantoinette's universe portal travel, maybe Genwun's sped up time bubble that evolved them into Genfour? although that could very well have just been an illusion and theyre just like, a fuckin theater kid that was doing pretend character development for the Bit or something given GenFive turned out to be a zoroark) or through stealing some of the power of the relevant god (Dr. Order stealing Chartreuse's power, Dani maybe having stolen some of Crimson's when she beat his ass. Dani's one woman universal travel is like, wicked ambiguous)

Cobalt:

Can seemingly perceive or act through any living material. (The Tree. Cobalt instructed Larry to slap his hand on that tree, that shit glowed and he had a new deal tattoo without Cobalt ever having been physically present)

Can influence the resurrected by giving them a killing urge. Represented by an aberrant brainwave and a ringing in the undead's heads. This doesnt appear to be direct control- as the Grunk could clearly restrain himself from killing people that genuinely didn't deserve it (like nightly and cha cha, who WERE grunk event targets but not fatally so. Nagito was a crimson thing so it really doesn't count here. God poor grunk his life really is just a constant plaything in the hands of the gods huh) and Sephiroth very much had personal motivation to want to kill Folk. failsafe activates this ability on the scale of war.

Deals. The extent of what Cobalt can do with these is unclear but Iggy's god powers were taken from him as his part in the deal so what he can take isn't limited to physical things or things obviously related to his domain.

Weaknesses:

Deals. While this ability is impressive his preference for making deals for those that offend against his domain is potentially very exploitable- Larry's knowledge of the cure for death is, if word of it were to ever get out beyond Larry, wildly dangerous for this dimension, so technically the safest thing for the iron-fisted cobalt to do would be to nip the problem in the bud and get rid of him. But, fascinatingly, that wasn't even put on the table, the first thing Cobalt does is threaten J0hn, prompting Larry to make a deal. While Cobalt enforces death, he also doesn't like unnecessary death, and Larry demonstrably knows how to keep a secret for the good of the world even at great cost to himself and Cobalt is aware of this- easily clarifying to Larry the aberrant thing endangering the universe wasn't his timeloop business. So while he's clearly not letting his resurrection fuckery go unpunished, he's being pretty merciful when he doesn't have to be and from a strictly, brutally pragmatic perspective probably shouldn't be.

His control over the undead manifests as a ringing and an aberrant brainwave trackable by J0hn's equipment, and could probably therefore be accounted for and circumvented? J0hn has, wisely, largely sworn off fucking with people's brains after the sephiroth fiasco went So Wrong, So Very Wrong, Oh God Oh Fuck Someone Cool Almost Died, but if he hadn't, and if J0hn let his dislike for authority and keeping Larry safe outweigh reason like he let safety, spite and comedic value outweigh good ethical sense when reprogramming sephiroth, in theory Mr. 'hacked a time machine for breakfast?' could. y'know. probably do it. what is a god's authority to an anarchist, what better to challenge life and death than the cold and eternal machine, you get the point its a fun scenario

Olive Garden Breadsticks and Small Cute Dogs, apparently

Chartreuse's:

Time Clones: taps into parallel timelines to retrieve alternate versions of herself to utilize.

Time Travel: what it says on the tin. Travel to the past creates painful splits in the prime timeline, but through careful action and traveling back into the past, these can be weaved into a time loop. A split from the timeline is a wound, and a successful timeloop is the surgical scar it can become with attentive care, to use a medical metaphor. Carefully closed and healing. Keeping Folk here is essentially akin to chartreuse pulling out her stitches on the initial incision.

Time Stopping: creates a space wherein things that take time to complete cannot complete, where things can move, but everything within is in a perfect unchanging stasis until the bubble drops. This is the form her failsafe takes.

Timeline Creation: can create timelines from scratch.

Can fuse alternate timeline versions of the same individual to allow them to coexist. (Ryan's confirmed in the discord that Dantoinette experienced both failures in 20, because Chartreuse fused the two instances of her to save the post-raid instance from fading. Could... theoretically do this to Folk and save herself the pain, but while Folk and Therapuppy are the same person, there's seven years and untold amounts of difference deriving from the time and circumstance between them and the inherent cognitive dissonances that would result from attempting that would be wicked fucked up to inflict, and that's assuming there isn't some reason that it wouldn't be possible anyway. while the two Danis had like. A day or so's difference between them, so she could be safely fused with the only dissonant thing being that she remembers both being too slow to prevent order's time escape and beginning to dissipate post-raid, AND losing that fight to her pre-raid. RIP Dani, that perfectionism must be kicking her ass)

Weaknesses:

Unwilling to use her powers destructively in her pursuit of domain repair and thereby much easier to damage to the point of paralyzing her, making her particularly vulnerable to Power Theft

Morally Optimistic. At one point in 19, she briefly justifies Crimson's shitty evil actions to herself after experiencing for herself how Wack the kerfuffleverse is firsthand, ("and all he did was kill a couple people!" Chartreuse. Honey.) and when she fights Crimsonaut she seems to actually believe for a second that he's actually worried about her when Crimson asks if she's okay after he beats her. Additionally, as D+, she concerns herself with trying to understand doctor order's motive, and after Larry defeats Order, he makes a point of confirming she feels no remorse before making his request for what Chartreuse does with her, and appeals to the idea of letting Order fulfill her desire to be a god in a way which isn't a problem for anyone and Chartreuse is more than happy to oblige under these conditions after what Larry's done for everybody. Then immediately threatens to evaporate him for playfully teasing her about having a crush on folk. Fucked up a little bit

Crimson's:

Universe Shifting: Travel between universes.

Universe Correction: appears to replace an aberrant individual with the 'correct' version of themselves for that universe, presumably sending them back to their own. (Mario from super mario was universe corrected, but still seemingly exists in wario form as evidenced by smashup kerfuffle, and was simply temporarily replaced with his corrected universe counterpart. But like. The dimensional bus system is still active crimbo doing the Put That Thing Back Where It Came From Or So Help Me routine aint gonna work if they can come back with a shrug and bus fare. you're fighting the symptoms without treating the problem)

Universal Constants:

Three individuals per universe that serve as the pillars which stabilize said universe, created by absorbing red orbs Crimson creates. Becoming a constant grants power, but also makes the constant fragile, and death wipes them from the face of the multiverse, only crimson, those he's possessed and the other constants seemingly able to recall they ever existed, although some physical evidence is still left behind (Larry's record of Nagito's death, which is just as redacted as everything else relating to him but still is very much something Larry has. Kind of a Voidfish adventurezone type beat ironically enough? Taako really has seen all this shit before no wonder he peaced tf out)

To counterbalance the weaknesses the constants have, they have a sort of spidey-sense to alert them to danger, and an intrinsic bonded connection to their fellow constants, and additionally, Crimson apparently doesn't suffer any pain from the death of constants or the structural instability of a universe.

Possession: what it says on the tin! Seemingly can only be done with permission to living things- none of crimson's direct hosts seem to have entered that agreement unwillingly, Valentine lost a bet, Hamburger and Crimsonaut have been by all evidence intentional allies to Crimson- but electronics are fair game, as seen with The Guy's suit. Kinda curious how that rule applies to bitches that are half and half, like J0hn or the clonebot gang, as its unclear whether The Guy's suit was yoinkable without permission because it was mechanical or because its not sentient. could go either way but if it's the former that's potentially very frightening

Fusion: Two individuals from alternate universes can be fused into one shared body which can take on aspects of either depending on which is currently in control. (possibly allows someone who traveled into a given universe to become a fixed resident there without it being an issue for Crimson, whose job is to prevent interdimensional travel?) Monday Mark and possibly T.O.M. are our main examples.

Corruption:

Unpleasant As Hell and can even kill you instead of changing you if you cant handle it.

turns the corrupted individual into a twisted exaggeration of themself, allows them supernatural control over their shape, and makes them very difficult- if not impossible by traditional means- to kill, based on Garfield.

Subjects them to control by Crimson, but can be exorcised of this influence just like crimson's direct hosts can, although the supernatural changes to their physiology are seemingly permanent, judging from Shantae.

Notable Weaknesses:

Exorcism can be performed to free a possessed or corrupted individual of Crimson's influence. Its unclear how exorcism works/is learned in CPUK, but confirmed exorcists: dantoinette and yung papaya's snake dad, confirmed non-exorcists: folk

The universal constant orbs are physical objects so they are Very Stealable and they grant a power boost so theres literally an Incentive to beat his ass for anybody who wants to be strong and either doesnt know or doesn't care about the whole 'getting erased when you die' part

Crimson has lots of tools to create pawns, but all of them have drawbacks. Corruption could kill a potential pawn, possession generally seems to require permission, and he has no control over the constants' choices and actions

Manipulative bitch's highest stat is charisma and it shows. This motherfucker is selling snake oil. If he was mortal rather than a Whole Entire God he'd make an excellent ineffectual saturday morning cartoon supervillain and i think everyone, including him, would be happier for it, ngl

Something interesting ive realized that likely wasnt fully intentional, is that a lot of Dr. Order's creations, considering her motive, can kind of be sorted by a color god it appears to be a crude attempt at mimicking the abilities of. My Grunk is a poorly executed resurrection, the clonebot gang vs chartreuse's timeclones (this one deserves special mention because Chartreuse used this shitty attempted mimicry to her advantage with D+, very smart and ironic play, excellent job Treusy,) spirits are somewhat similar to universal constant orbs (orbs which can be absorbed to grant power, but which have physical repercussions- key differences being that spirits require activation and grow stronger while attuning to a user without being used, and having far less severe drawbacks, taking a heavy toll on the body, but only once they've worn off and without the risk of wiping yourself from the face of existence,) and she also augmented Perfect Spriteman and Larry, which kind of track as crude imitations of Crimson's corruption!

Garfield was an acerbic cat who loved food and hated mondays, now its an actively malicious ever-hungry amorphous entity whose only weakness is monday and whose only consistency in form is 'cat-like.'

Shantae was (to my extremely limited understanding of shantae,) a friendly heroic type who had to introduce herself often, and she became something akin to a biblically accurate angel that can *only* introduce herself.

The Grunks a tough but sweet and supportive single dad with stage presence and a tendency to fly off the handle when he or his family are slighted, and now he gets so hype in the audience when his son does well that he bursts into flames and ascends and we get random grunk events along with the associated murder charges when he gets mad and the target sucks enough that he doesn't hold himself back from killing them.

Perfect Spriteman and Larry fit the trend of exaggeration of already present traits- Spriteman fucking loves sprite and became something that only thinks about sprite, and Larry the Florida Man, characterized from minute one by unpredictability and who spent his first matches in the series pre-shapeshifter transformation staying alive keeping stocks for Shockingly Long even despite getting seventh, became literally physically random as well as developing the ability to regenerate, albeit with the ability to feel pain normally very much intact, unlike Garfield just... Soaking up damage like its nothing in his pursuit of Jon. The fact that Arbuckle legit defeated Garfield, even temporarily, is terrifyingly impressive honestly that dude is fucking built different for being so chronically bland

i dont think they're actually corrupted in any meaningful way we have to worry about, to be fully clear, Spriteman was cured with fucking antacids, i simply think they could be a fucked up attempt at making something that kind of seems like it from a functional standpoint, from the wannabe god doctor that brought us green clones whose only fundamental association with time was accelerated aging and who thought an actively rotting corpse thats just reanimated enough that it can throw hands was as good as curing death

[vivithefolle]

What are your favourite fanfic tropes/aus for romione?

(I’m gonna try to make my way through old asks I received AGES ago and never answered because I’m a procrastinating lump. Here’s betting I’m going to give up and play videogames all day instead.)

Oh my god, so many.

Okay so as a rule of thumb as long as it’s nice to Ron I’ll read it. I’ll read anything. I have been known to read Ron/Draco and even sacrificed my dignity and everything I stand for as a human being by reading some Ron/Snape stuff. Yes. I was THAT desperate. This is how low I’m willing to go because of sheer love for Ron.

Which means that when a fic will go “oh poor Hermione, poor Hermione who is waiting for Ron to grow up because She can see one day he could be worth it but for now he’s all dumb-dumb and inferior and doesn’t deserve Her perfection :(”, I will be judging. Judging very hard. I may not leave a comment but rest assured, my thoughts are loud enough for me. This is 2010s mentality. This is “haha I’m so like Hermione, not like other girls who throw themselves at boys, I’m so special and girl powery :)” Horribly Bad Feminism. Fuck that. We’re doing better now.

Speaking of doing better. Recently I read something about how Ron is, paraphrased, “the brute of the Trio”, spun in a positive way since he uses his strength to protect them but, but, still... please no? Just no! Just eff no with these takes about how Ron is a hypermasculine dudebro M For Manly™! No, no, fucking no! Just because he’s the Sulfur to Hermione’s Mercury and Sulfur represents the masculine component to Mercury’s feminine one, DOESN’T MEAN Ron is “the brute”! (”the” brute... seriously... who’s the more brutish one, the one who punches a racist in the face or the one who uses a torture curse as retribution for spitting on his fave teacher?)

The way I see him, Ron is a balance, a blend of feminine and masculine qualities intertwined close together. I LOVE that he can swear like a sailor but can only say “scarlet woman” or “cow” when it comes to insulting a woman. Some will probably see it as “hurr durr he sexist he doesnt think women can take it!!!!!!! >8C” but given that those are probably also the peeps who say “HE CALLE D HERMOANI A NIGHTMURRR!!!!!!! DDDDD8″ I’m gonna venture the idea that we don’t care about those folks’ biased, sexist opinions.

Where was I going with this... oh yes! Ok, so Ron can swear like a sailor yet couldn’t insult a girl to save his life. He’s strong physically but most of all he’s strong mentally (to put up with the way his friends treat him for years speaks a lot of his mental fortitude... and to top it off he comes back for more to boot! I’m not sure if that’s more mental fortitude or straight-up masochism though.) When he succeeds at things he gets a bit attention-whoreish but at the same time, you can see that when he’s being complimented he’s all unsure of himself and blushy and shy and you just, dude you can’t handle positive attention because you don’t know how to react to it I don’t know whether that’s adorable or the saddest thing I’ve seen in my life? He’s insecure but he’s always the first to cheer on Harry and Hermione when they’re doing something great, which speaks VOLUMES of Ron’s selflessness and of his actual character: to quote @peetamaellark​, Ron doesn’t think “Harry is great, therefore he sucks and I hate him”, he thinks “Harry is great, therefore I suck and I hate me”. THIS is Ron. THIS is why Ron will lash out, not because he hates Harry, but because internally he hates himself and you can’t keep that sort of feeling bottled up for too long before... you got it, you explode.

I. Want. More. Fics where Hermione isn’t this ~oh dear~ Victorian damsel in distress who cries and Ron is the Big Strong Man who holds her with one arm and is stony-faced and goes “I’ll protect you”, please no that was old before it existed, let us have nice, realistic depictions of Ron and Hermione please.

Like, Hermione is more than capable of kicking butt herself. She IS absolutely nervous and scared and cries easily and that’s a vulnerability we NEED, but the fact that she can be super scared and crying but still hex her opponent into oblivion? THAT’s good, THAT’s excellent. It’s a very important message for girls, I think. “You can cry, you can be sensitive, you can be emotional, AND you can still kick butt”. And as important as that message is for girls, it’s also a very important message to give boys, because boys are socialized to “never cry” and that’s super unhealthy. I love Ron’s admiration of Hermione. I love the way Ron hesitates, the way he can be cautious when he needs to as much as he can be reckless and impulsive. I love how he shows himself to be a big softie and a sweet soul. I don’t think that makes him an “emasculated doormat” (to quote a guest I once saw on FFN), on the contrary it makes him an even better man in my eyes. You know why I love the locket scene so much? Because Ron’s tears aren’t ridiculed. Ron gets to cry about the terrible ordeal he’s been put through, and while Harry “pretends he can’t see Ron cry” because it’s more comfortable for him personally, he doesn’t try to tell Ron to “man up” or anything. His reassurance is pretty lousy but he lets Ron cry, he lets his friend be upset, and he doesn’t try to invalidate Ron’s pain. (ok, the “I thought you knew” is kiiiiinda on the way there, but it stops at that and I’m grateful for it).

I like. Seeing Ron distressed. I like seeing Ron upset and be allowed to be upset. I like to see Ron’s pain treated with respect. So when Ron is having a shit day I like to see him get a cuddle. I like seeing Ron go through horrible ordeals and break down and for his breakdown to be properly acknowledged and not turned into insensitive comic relief (ISN’T THAT RIGHT, LATTER HALF OF THE SILVER DOE????). I mean seriously, just imagine GOF, Harry sitting in the hospital wing after Cedric’s death, Molly Weasley gives him a hug and it’s all very sad and angsty. And now picture Ginny running into the room screaming “HARRY JAMES POTTER” and punching him over and over and saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER” then after two pages of Harry “explaining” himself to Ginny she goes away saying “aight but if you do that shit again you’ll have to answer to me” then Harry’s friends are like “damn she’s spunky huh?” and Harry laughs and everyone laughs and this is how the book ends? How would it be funny? How would it be appropriate? How would it feel like “romance”? When Ron returns in The Silver Doe, he’s been psychologically tortured (”tortured” is the actual word JKR uses, please), we don’t need him to be hurting outside as well.

I want more accountability for Hermione. More “uh hey Hermione maybe don’t do that”. More “hey Hermione you know you think of yourself as a good person buuuut yeah actually if all good persons were like you I’d be very afraid”. More “Hermione please for the love of God educate yourself”. More “Hermione sweetie I love you, but you can’t actually learn everything from books”. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE. Don’t be afraid to punch Hermione down and tear her apart the way the best Ron fics maim and torture our poor boy. Just because Rowling treated Hermione with kiddy princess gloves doesn’t mean you have to mimic her.

So when Hermione does a genuinely shitty thing let her own up to it. When Ron is a victim let him be upset and angry, even if Hermione is the one treating him badly. Just because he loves her doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be disappointed in her or that she’s entitled to his immediate forgiveness. Give Ron and Hermione equal consideration. If you’re brushing off Hermione’s actions but condemning Ron for the slightest mistake, I am sure to hate it.

Okay, uh, so, those aren’t really tropes. Those are more just, guidelines I presume.

Oh, yeah, a trope that annoys me! Ron saying “you’re mine”, “my Hermione” and stuff, and Hermione just swoons and says “yours” and shiz. Ok, once in a while, why not. Once in a while. BUTT. I WANT HERMIONE TO SAY IT TOO. “Mine”, “my Ron!” and Ron swoons and says “yours, absolutely yours”. DO IT YOU COWARDS. FUCKING TAKE THOSE GENDER ROLES AND PUNCH’EM IN THE FACE.

Oh, right, while we’re on the subject of gender roles! Dad!Ron is everything. SingleParent!Ron is mwaaah. Stay-at-home-Dad!Ron is ALKZLDSJDLQSKLFJ <3. AnimalLover!Ron is HHHHNNNGG. Remember, the small gestures, the tiniest, softest acts Ron does (helping Harry get dressed when his arm is deboned, giving Dobby his brand-new sweater, praising Ginny, Luna and Neville when they escaped Umbridge), those are often those unremarkable, unmistakeably kind and sweet actions that tell us who Ron really is at his core: not a guy who’d want power at all costs, not a guy who’d give it all for ambition, not a guy who sees people as possessions, but someone kind who wants to make others happy.

Ok, I was also asked for AUs, so, uh, pretty much every AU is game as long as Ron gets treated with respect? I mean I don’t really care for Mafia!AUs or such but if you can find a way to fit good Romione then go for it I guess. Royalty AU, yeah why not but I often see Ron being made a prince while Hermione is a poor wee servant girl and like. Uuum, we’re talking about the same characters here? Hermione the highly educated girl who keeps on walking over everyone’s toes and loudly talking about how things should be done and is definitely Nouveau Riche, Ron who is a country boy who lives on a farm and is lost in the constant shuffle of his brothers, you think she should be the peasant and he should be the royal? Whaddafack? Oh, and all the “Hermione is a Muggle, Ron is a wizard” AUs that start this way BUTT! Suddenly... Hermione... turns out... to be (wait for it!)... A WITCH! And a super powerful super talented very good one too!!!... yeah ok, yawn. It’s quite scary, actually, how often I’ve seen that plotline, but in the rare cases when it’s Muggle!Ron and Witch!Hermione, Ron never ever EVER (I mean, seriously, NEVER EVER) turns out to have been a wizard, not even a mediocre one, all along. No, when Ron is made a Muggle for the sake of AU he stays a Muggle. But when Hermione is made a Muggle she has to turn out TO HAVE BEEN A WITCH ALL ALONG OMYGAH. I can count on one hand the number of Mugglemione/Wizardron fics that actually stick to their Mugglemione premise till the end - and usually they’re one-shots. (Also I don’t mean “Ron mistakes Hermione for a Muggle because he meets her in the Muggle world and assumes he must hide his magic from her, oh wait she was actually a witch!” fics, I mean genuinely “Hermione has been raised a Muggle her whole life, never had weird things happen to her her whole life ever, then Ron comes in and is a wizard and he does magic and Hermione wonders what it’d be like to be a witch and oh surprise! Don’t worry Hermione, you won’t have to feel not-special or mundane for long, here comes the plot contrivance to tell you you really were in fact the specialest of them all!!” fics.) Fairytale!AU is cool. Very good. But honestly I like to see them swapped around. Ron cursed by a nasty fae to be a Beast and Hermione stumbling upon him? Neat, especially if you don’t go the boring route of “oh let’s just rehash the Disney/the original book with different names and call it a day”. But Hermione cursed by an asshole fae for, let’s say, not sharing books, turning into a Beast, and Ron stumbling upon her as she’s trying to survive in the woods (and not doing a very good job of it)? Yes, brava, chief’s kiss. Rapunzel AU where Hermione’s bushy hair turns into the most impractical, most suffocating improvised ladder ever for Ron? Hilarious. Rapunzel AU where Ron has A GIANT EFFING PONYTAIL OF THE GODS and is screaming “ow ow ow” as Hermione makes her way up to his window cringing and saying “sorry! sorry! sorry! (damn his hair smells good)” on every step? Equally hilarious. Go! Be creative! Please I beg of you

Creature!fics! Oh my god there’s not enough of those, at least that aren’t focused on a bullshit pairing! Soulmate AUs! Give me everything! I’ll even take A/B/O if you insist on making it Romione! That’s how far I’ve fallen from human decency I’ll take anything just give me some good Ron content please I beg of you (Ah and to those that are going to say “Alpha Ron Omega Hermione :)))” well yes, but actually no. “Beta Ron Beta Hermione”? “Beta Ron Alpha Hermione”? “Omega Ron Alpha Hermione”??? HELL YEAH NOW WE’RE TALKIN)

Oh dear god I’m still not finished and I haven’t gone through everything someone stop me.

AND NOW BE CAREFUL CHILDREN, BELOW WILL BE SMUT.

Okay I don’t know if it qualifies as a trope, but. But. A more realistic depiction of Ron is usually what I’m after. All those fanfics that have Ron be “the sexy experienced one ;)))” ravishing “naive virginal Hermione ;))” is just UGH. We spent all the 2000-2010 period having fics like this, mind adding a bit of EQUALITY to the mix???

It’s just... I hate it okay? So many fics read like they’re just projection, writers who are essentially making Ron their big strong sex toy stud who's so attentive and sweet and cherishing, and so it does indirectly ends up as "servant Ron is so devoted to his goddess Hermione, providing pleasure to her while she doesn’t have to lift a finger”. The Dom!SexGod!Ron thing honestly depresses me... Since it's Ron taking care of Hermione, AGAIN. Like, he spends his WHOLE LIFE doing that already. Can we give him a break for once?

In the endI feel that it's less "Romione smut" and more "self-inserting into Hermione smut". In "real" Romione smut I think Ron and Hermione would switch roles according to what they feel like. And honestly I ALWAYS picture Ron being super nervous during Dom stuff, like he spanks her once then immediately he goes "oh my god are you okay?? did that hurt, do you want to stop?", things like that. I cannot imagine it happening any other way. XD Ron is just... too caring, too sensitive to do stuff like hard BDSM and that kind of thing in my opinion. He’s too much of a caretaker. I understand if it’s your kink and you’re perfectly free to project and write the fic you want, I’m not the fun police, but it’s just... I don’t think that’s really what Ron would be like. I just want MORE realistic Ron.

Also I’m trying really really hard to not point fingers here but WHY is it that it’s always “Ron growled” while it’s always “Hermione whimpered” or “Hermione moaned”? Like... you know it’s okay for a man to moan or whimper in pleasure too, right?  You know Ron isn’t 110% muscles and testosterone? You know Hermione is allowed to be fierce too? Hermione can 100% “growl” and be dominant and pin Ron to the wall and reduce him to a puddle of goo if you’re brave enough?

(Honestly how sexy would Ron think that is? The woman he loves is half his size yet can pin him down and ravish him. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG RON HAS WANTED TO BE RAVISHED AND CHERISHED DO YOU KNOW HE’S BEEN WANTING THIS ALL HIS LIFE)

Oooo-kay, so that’s... mostly it, I reckon. Oh also Ron has a gigantic penisraise kink (and a great penis too, but mostly a praise kink). That’s canon and that’s all.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Hey- I was a beta reader for you awhile back when you still did Frankenstein's Creature works. I still follow you because your writing is amazing and awesome.

I just want to say that I am so, so sorry that you are getting this hate and I'm sorry people are telling you to off yourself. Not only is it in poor taste but it's also genuinely damaging. Even if you're the type of person to let it slide for the most part, having it anger you to the degree it's possible can have lasting effects.

When it comes to cnc (consensual non-consent) or works that display genuine non-con in a sexual light, there can be negative impacts if the story or writing is not handled correctly. You handled it correctly, people are just dumb. There's also a problem of being anti-fetish, anti-bdsm and anti-self expressionist when it comes to hate for any kink, especially cnc. It's a very complex issue that I want so desperately for people to internalize and learn, but I digress. I don't want this to become an essay. I think you were right in your decisions and handling of the fic and you're taking all of this with a degree of grace I don't think I would be able to muster if I were in your shoes.

I want you to know that you will have my support forever and always. Thank you for being a wonderful writer and serving as a constant source of inspiration for my own writing. If you remember me and ever need a beta reader/co writer, I'm always available and very bored.

<3

Ahhhh yes, I remember you!!! 💖💖💖 You were such a wonderful beta! A perfect balance of giving great suggestions & not making me cry XD It's good to hear from you! 😊

It's definitely a complicated issue & I understand why people get upset about it... Though on the other hand, noncon is a much more common theme in anime fandoms and slasherfucker/monsterfucker spaces, so while I expected the hatemail, I wasn't expecting people to get so genuinely upset.

I guess there isn't much noncon in this fandom & it's not something I've posted much of before, so maybe it took folks by surprise and felt like a betrayal?

Hopefully next time, people will block the #tw: noncon tag & won't even have to look at it, and I'll keep the above-the-cut description dry and to the point, and there will be less conflict. (With the genuine people. Unfortunately I know people sending "kys" comments are going to keep doing that. There's always a weird subset who will hate-read stuff that triggers them just to get angry and... ugh. That's a whole issue unto itself.)

The hate hasn't even been that bad -- it's been far outweighed by the supportive comments -- but you're right, it does take a toll just knowing there's probably something negative waiting in your inbox.

I'll also add, the worst hate comments haven't even been directed at me. All the "off yourself" messages were sent to my co-writer, either because of his pronouns, his young age, or because he's a newer writer on here... all of which are so fucking cowardly. So, you know, send @barbingchilton some support 😭 (I think he is planning to drop even more noncon fics out of spite because he is unbreakable, but--)

[jeanjauthor]

What’s the duties of a duke of his household in peacetime?

The duties of a Duke are the same as any noble, baronet, baron, viscount, count, earl, margrave, duke, grand duke, and of course the other gender versions, baronetta, baroness, viscountess, countess, marchioness, duchess, grand duchess... But whether or not a noble *followed* those duty expectations is, of course, up to the individual, whether they’re a genuine caring person or an entitled douchebag asshole. (Pardon my language but honestly...yeah.)

Anyway, the original premise of nobility vs. common folk was that because they could afford things like weapons and horses (which made combat easier), they were to protect their immediate neighbors in exchange for being given a bit of support in terms of food, goods, funds, etc.  This literally goes back thousands of years in Europe, all the way into the days of prehistoric civilizations (think of the grand burial mount civilizations, for example; archaeological finds have showed that those who could afford to keep & ride horses were given higher status, and were far more likely to have weapons buried with them).

By the time it becomes officially stratified in the records with various levels of nobility, baron to duke, etc, the primary job of protecting the people still exists, but the *method* has now varied.  Depending on culture, era, nation, etc, dukes don’t necessarily *have* to personally lead troops into battle.  (Please decide this for your created cultures in advance.)  This could still be done via raising a levy of home troops, seeing that they’re trained (mandatory monthly training weekend?), and drilled, and ready to fight...but it’s not always necessary.

By the era where nobles are stratified into dukes vs counts vs barons, etc, most of the time standing armies did exist (if small and padded with conscription during times of war).  This often meant the duke (or whatever rank) could negotiate for paying for part of those army forces via tax monies that could be used to pay the soldiers or pay for provisions, or products from their craftspeople (leather goods, clothing, weapons, vehicles, etc, and/or produce from their farms (actual produce like grains, vegetables, preserved meats, or living animals such as horses and oxen for pulling supply wagons, etc).

Now that we now what wartime possibilities are like, we can set that aside and focus on peacetime.  They would still be responsible for being able to provide goods and services and funds for any standing army, paying taxes to their sovereign, etc.  They might even (depending on the culture, think England and its longbowmen, yeomen) still have to maintain a yearly quota of trained fighters (in this case longbow archers).  There was a long period of time when, by law, all able-bodied males in England had to train with a longbow for X amount of time a month.  A conscientious noble--regardless of gender--would see to this, and see that there would be an adequate supply of well-crafted longbows, and a plethora of arrows.

This training would extend to the members of their own household.  In a typical keep / castle, there would often be a bow in every single room with windows or window slits facing to the outside, along with a supply of arrows, so that anyone within that room during a time of battle or even siege could pick up the weapon, string it, and use it to defend against invaders.  This means that there would be an expectation of anybody who could physically draw a bowstring would spend at least some time every week practicing those skills.  A good noble would ensure that all genders could do so, even in times of peace.

Moreover, a duke, et al, would have a trained force of guards to patrol the roads within their domain, to try to keep them free of bandits, scout for raiders or unusual incursions from a neighbor’s own armed forces...because war with your neighbors was not uncommon; resources were fought over, herd beasts were rustled, taxes would be “demanded” by the greedy from peasants who weren’t in that noble neighbor’s demesne (domain), etc.  It didn’t even have to be outright warfare to require constant vigilance.

And of course there would be the need to enforce certain laws.  Sometimes it was stupid classist gatekeeping bullshit like sumptuary laws (at one point the only fur commoners could wear was squirrel fur, which made winters hellaciously difficult to survive, and much of the Middle Ages did experience a Little Ice Age, so such laws were doubly punitive, and I hope those who created such laws suffered horribly from the diseases of the day)..  Sometimes it was a genuinely good law, like no you cannot beat your wife to death without it being called murder.  (Seriously, I would not last long in the Middle Ages, because I’d be too damn feminist to be “allowed” to live...)

Anyway, aside from the need to keep the roads clear for commerce and travel, to watch for neighbors slipping into raiding, to uphold the law, etc, technically a good noble’s next and utterly non-combat-associated duty would be to use their plenty, their excess, their ability to be generous and charitable with their extra resources...to be generous and charitable.  There was a long-standing tradition of expectations that a noble would take care of the poorest within their domain.  Cottages and daily meals for the elderly & infirm, help for those families devastated by illness, extra food in times of famine, and of course if they owned any of the buildings their tenants lived in, it was expected that they would maintain those structures at their own expense.

Furthermore, it was expected that anyone who worked for them, from the lowly scullery boy and/or goose-tending maid, all the way up through to their seneschal (person who actually managed a particular manor and its lands whenever the noble wasn’t there visiting) got a certain amount of money and a certain number of sets of clothes every year.  (Cloth is VERY expensive to produce, pre-industrialization, btw; it could take 12-20 spinners just to keep one weaver at the loom full time.)  They would also be expected to be provided with tools for their trades, too--leather and metal for animal harnesses when plowing the fields, plows for said plowing, chisels for a woodwright or a stonecutter, etc--when doing work for the noble.  At least, a good noble would help support their craftspeople, providing good scythes at harvest time, etc.

A truly good noble would actually pitch in, too, during heavy labor periods, especially in harvest season when the weather is looking iffy.  They’d pull in their soldiers and assign them to work the fields, and even work themselves to get all the pulses (peas, beans) harvested, all the corn (medieval term for seeds of grain such as oats, wheat, rye, barley, etc) harvested, and of course properly dried and threshed and stored...in exchange for a certain amount to be given to them as taxes, to feed for said soldiers and workers, and to pass some along in the form of either food or money from sales to their higher-ups on the fealty chain.

...Of course, as time went on, most nobles considered themselves entitled to all of those items and produce and goods without pitching in personally.  This of course has lead to the GOP insisting upon holding as much power as possible without giving a damn about the common American in the modern era...but this has happened over and over and over.  The French had a little head-chopping Revolution thing about it, in fact.  Not a good look for nobles, tbh, but they really were that entitled and uncaring in their attitudes toward commoners.  (Isn’t it fun the parallels we can draw between then and now?)

One thing people in this era don’t realize is that after the Black Death swept through and wiped out 1/3rd of Europe’s population (it actually swept through several times, but this was like COVID-19 to the common flu, back then), there was such a labor shortage that the nobles were literally enticing serfs in someone else’s domain to come work for them, for twice or even three times as much pay, benefits, gifts, etc, because they needed the harvest to be brought in but didn’t have enough living people, period, to get it done without poaching their neighbors’ residents.

The Black Death ended serfdom, the custom of people being essentially bound by law to a particular patch of land as a sort of pseudo-slavery--the phrase “year and a day” was used when a serf ran away from their home patch of ground to a freely-held (not beholden to any noble) city.  If they could live there for one year and one day without being caught and dragged back, they would be considered freed...but when the Black Death hit, if you survived, you had a LOT of leverage against the nobles.  It really shifted the balance of power and the balance of wealth in Europe, because the commoners could demand a lot more in funds and supplies and equipment, etc.

(It’s like how businesses are shutting down because their workers are tired of being exploited; if these businesses won’t pay an actually livable wage...well, we’re not serfs, not boung by law (yet--watch out for the GOP, since they want to reinstitute such things bit by bit, if you read between the lines of what they’ve been attempting to pass in state and federal congressional sessions) to have to work for starvation slavery wages for our (corporate) masters...  Instead, we have a great deal of power and leverage to demand better working conditions, just as our European survivor-ancestors did post-plague.  Anyway!)

Wise nobles treated their commoners well, giving them extra pay, better living conditions regardless of how much they needed the work.  They sacrificed a little bit of their own personal wealth to ensure that their entire demense (domain) prospered.  Those that did not, often caused far more misery than humanity should have allowed...such as the so-called Irish Potato Famine.

There was NOT a famine in Ireland at the time.  English colonizer nobles who had seized the land, etc, demanded that all the good food that was growing be reserved for -their- needs, to be sold elsewhere or fed to the local animals.  The Irish had to subsist on what little of the potato harvest and a few gathered wild foods or personal tiny vegetable garden goods they could grow...and when the potato blight hit, it hit HARD, and the vast majority of the potatoes were taken up--just like all the other foods--by their English overlords, maliciously causing the actual farmers, the actual people creating & growing & tending all that food, to literally starve to death...or be imprisoned for daring to eat the food they produced, because it “didn’t” belong to them.

So when we talk about the obligations of the nobles to their households in times of peace...we have to stop and think, what kind of culture do these nobles in general promote, and what does the individual noble and/or their immediate family promote?

Because the time you get around to having stratified nobility (baronetty through duchy), you’re probably going to have a lot of people who believe they have unassailable privileges and callously inhuman entitlement rights, UNLESS there are a lot of checks-and-balances on the culture to prevent such things.

Like what, you may ask?  Well, we can look at the corporate culture of Ben & Jerry’s, the ice cream company.  I don’t know if it’s still in their bylaws, but at least for a long while, last I heard, the CEOs & board of directors could not be paid more than 7x what the lowest paid employees in the company got.  By investing their money in their employees, the company was ethically using the labor of said employees, paying them back for their hard work.

Nobles who invest in their peasantry, improving their wages, their homes, their lives & ability to do their livelihoods, will have a similar ROI, Return On Investment--they’ll be beloved, they’ll be fiercely defended, they’ll have people wanting to work for them.  We know this worked in the medieval era because when the Black Death destroyed serfdom, those nobles who “shared the wealth” with their laborers got even more prosperous, because everyone who survived wanted to work for them.

One last thing, the higher up in rank a noble is, the more lands & crafts, etc, they probably oversee...and that means the less time they have to know everyone in their domain...which can lead to them “not being in touch with the common people.”  UNLESS they make a concerted effort to get to know and stay in touch with those people.  They can do this through conscious personal effort, a family culture of careful coaching & teaching, by not having primogeniture but instead a law of picking the best heir to take over (aka not the privileged entitled asshole types who only take & take, but the ones who genuinely care and give & give), or even by laws, “Nobles can only use X amount of what they have for their personal needs and must reinvest Y amount in their demense (lands, peoples, buildings, herds, etc).”

If you’re writing an historical novel with a duke, you’ll want to research the era in which they’re set, to see what the chances of a good guy duke versus a bad guy or uncaring guy duke might be.  (There are always exceptions to the rules, but maybe they’re just unaware their policies are asshole-ish...or maybe they really are English prejudiced against the Irish, considering the Irish to be moronic animals that have opposable thumbs...really seriously, the whole potato famine was the fault of the English nobility and their goddamn colonizer attitudes...but I digress).

If you’re writing a created culture, however...you can work things to turn out differently, either by culture, by expectation, law, etc, so that it’s different from what happened in Europe (and other locations).

In my fantasy romance DestinyVerse books, mages have a great deal of power, and often end up in positions of nobility because--like having horses and weapons--a strong mage has the ability to protect a lot of people from incoming threats...but at the same time that they’re asked to protect those around them in a position of legal & cultural power... they’re expected to swear magic-binding oaths to protect the people they rule over, so that their magic literally prevents them from violating the terms of those oaths.  They have to protect the people they’ve sworn to protect from various oath-bound threats.  That’s a guarantee that Medieval Europe (or China, or India, etc) did not have...though a cleverly worded oath can still allow a mage to be an asshole in many respects.

I hope all of that helps!

#WhatDidDukesDoInTimesOfPeace

#NobleObligations

#answers

[cyndecreativity]

Day 1 - Competitive? Me?

Journey – Winning a teddy for the other – “I need you”

Set in the Zodiac Chronicles world.

 Alden and Idania head to the Scorpio Festival. Idania asks him to win a prize for her and he obliges, but it’s not the biggest prize. He can’t let that slide.

~2400 words

---

Festivals happened in every month in Lotuserna, for every Patron or Matron Spirit of whatever Constellation. Alden had to make an appearance at the Scorpio festival, of course, and he grew tired of the annual event. Loud, smelly, made his chest hurt, there were too many people, and any number of other issues. The only saving grace for him lie with the foods. He loved fried and handheld foods, the kind served in abundance at the festivals. Most Scorpio knew this and every year the number of stalls with a new fried food opened to try to set themselves up until next year with the patronage of the Scorpio prince.

For Idania, she loved the festivals every month, allowed to go to every one at the orphanage to celebrate the Spirits of abandoned children, to allow them time to have fun and feel like kids for at least one night. The festivals usually lasted a weekend, but the orphanage could only afford the one night. Being able to experience the joy with each new child that rolled through the orphanage gave Idania a lifelong appreciation for the festivals. The games changed, the festivals updated, the prizes stayed with some kids long after they left for forever homes. Idania racked up quite a few that she gave away to those leaving. She’d get one next year, she told them.

Many years had passed since she last said those words. Many years filled with uncertainty and harm, hope and love, damage and scars. Antares lit up with torches and candle lamps, streams of flags and wings and lizard tails, stalls selling fried foods, portable foods, toys and trinkets. It almost made her forget the pain as Alden led her through the courtyard, his right arm in a fancy leather sling that covered the entire necrotic limb. He had to maintain the façade of royal perfection. Sylvain hadn’t been allowed to leave the palace in months as the Capricorn struggled to return him to normal. The scars left on him by the years persisted, much to the Empress’s tremendous disappointment.

Idania kept to Alden’s left side, more used to the sight of her own failure on his right, but the constant reminder of what she’d done haunted her quietly every day. He jostled her slightly when he excitedly pointed to the menu of a food stall, asking if she had interest in fried potatoes or some new flavor of beer. She hated alcohol, but she loved food just as much. They would grab a waxed paper container and he held it as they wandered further.

At one stall, she stopped in the middle of the promenade, a stick of grilled meat halfway to her mouth. He took several steps before recognizing her absence and stopped to turn around.

He made his way back to her and grabbed another fried potato with his left hand. “You okay?”

She gestured with the stick of meat to a stall across from her. “There’s prizes there.”

He turned around to follow her stick of meat. “There sure are.”

She hesitated. With his right arm, the dominant arm, in a sling, he would have difficulty attempting the game. But part of her, a childish part, an irrational part, she knew, wanted him to win it for her. Her lips pressed together and she nodded slightly. She took a few steps away.

“Whoa, hey, waitaminute.” He swept his left arm forward at her. She stopped and retraced her steps immediately. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Did you want one?”

He would tell her later that her face lit up brighter than any star in the sky, her eyes filled with firelight, her tail shot up to allow her muzzle to jingle behind her head. But she simply smiled and nodded. “If you think you can. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Or your mother to get upset if you use your… other arm.”

He pulled a face and wiped his hand on his thigh. “Fuck her. You’re my kelara. You want me to win you something? I’ll win you something.”

Crimson crept over her cheeks as she followed him over to the stall. He stood back and watched a few other patrons attempt the game, a dagger-throw. The operator rotated a disk that sent a set of targets shifting back and forth. The difficult and highest scoring targets lie in the back, obscured by two rows of lower scoring targets. With a high enough score, the winner chose a prize among what the stall had to offer.

After several moments, Alden pulled the strap of his sling off and looked to her. His brow furrowed and he dropped the fancy leather to the ground. “Evening! How much for a try?”

The stall owner started at the blackened flesh of Alden’s right arm, lined by veins of blue magic, then drew back in recognition of his prince. His tail, muzzled simply, quivered behind his head. “Your Highness! Ah- For you-“

Alden lifted his right arm, it being dominant, and shook his head. “You have to make a living too. Now, how much?”

The man furrowed his brow and looked to the other operator. His friend shrugged and continued encouraging his customers. “Uh, 2 Lotus per try. You get 6 daggers. And each score tier earns you a different prize. They’re all organized by shelf up here.” He turned slightly and gestured. “Lowest scores on the bottom, highest are hanging up there.”

Her prince reached into his money pouch and dropped 3 Lotus on the bar. “6 daggers, and a tip for you folks.”

The man started to protest again, but Alden shook his head. The 6 daggers were set in front of him. The other customers still had 4 daggers to use, which meant they had to wait. The Scorpio behind the counter apologized profusely, but the prince shrugged. His tail curled a bit as he picked them up, weighed them, and rotated his shoulders with gentle pops. He tested them out a bit, held them by the point and the pommel, going through the motions of throwing without release.

Idania beamed, her nose tickled, eyes watering. A strange kind of warm joy filled her, an overwhelming of emotions that left her wanting to cry. She sniffled and slid a bit of meat off the stick. Kelara. She wondered if she would ever get used to him calling her that. He did it with such reverence, such affection, such absolute certainty.

The other operator rang the bell and pulled a prize off one of the lower shelves for the other customer. The man tending them nodded and moved to the gear at his end and gestured to Alden. The prince moved into position at the center and nodded his readiness.

Alden held up a dagger, ready to throw. The targets started to move ever so slowly. After a moment or two, the Scorpio prince straightened up. He shot a look to the man turning the gear. His face scrunched in an awkward smile and he turned faster, his tail shaking behind him. Idania’s muzzle jingled slightly as Alden leaned forward, his tail lifted for balance.

THUNK

The first one hit a target in the middle. Alden swore quietly.

“Oh! Good opening shot, sir! Good try!” The other operator clapped for a moment, going through the motion of hype for a customer.

Idania quietly congratulated her prince.

THUNK

The next landed in another in the front. Alden swore again, louder this time.

“Oooo! Too bad! Still points though!” No claps this time, their voice still deadpan.

THUNK

“Ay! Big Lotus!” The other operator clapped again, more genuine with their praise. “Can he do it again?”

Idania squealed.

THUNK

“Another good hit, sir!” The one turning the wheel congratulated his customer as Alden hit another target in the final row.

Idania looked at the prizes. At least 2 backline targets had to be worth something good.

THUNK

Whud

A very loud curse erupted from the prince, startling all parties around him, including a few festival-goers as they wandered by.

“That’s 3 backlines, a mid, a front, and a fall! Good job, sir! You have your choice of any on the lower shelves.” The operator at the front gestured lazily to the lower shelves.

Alden furrowed his brow. “Lowest? Why the lower shelves?”

The first operator rushed over to them and waved his hands. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Three backlines gets you the highest shelf-“

The other operator, brow furrowed, tilted their head. “But they lose points when the dagger falls.”

Jittery, as Alden would call him later, slapped his colleague on the arm. “But not for The Prince.”

The colleague, whom Alden dubbed Themby, furrowed their brow.

Alden dug into his pocket and pulled out three more Lotus coins. “Idania, go ahead and pick a prize while I try again.”

She shook her head. “Highness, it’s not necessa-“

He slapped the coins down. “6 more daggers please.”

Hours later, Idania stood next to a small pile of toys and dolls, the leather sling resting on the stall’s counter beside her, the trash from the portable food balled up behind the counter, having fallen there when Alden slammed coins down. She knew she should be worried, try to force him to stop, but she also knew he wouldn’t until he reached some conclusion for himself. Either failing enough to reach a critical point of frustration, or winning at least once. Either way, the pile of toys and dolls could be given away by the prince, a donation to an orphanage of choice, goodwill to the people, something he was already known for. And she could keep one or two to remember.

A small crowd of people had gathered to watch the commotion, Alden forced to stand by and watch another patron try their hand to varying success. Sometimes Idania would even offer one of the dolls to someone that lost, a consolation for a loss. The children frequently skipped away with a thank you and the parents would smile their thanks with that exhausted grateful desperation she recognized from the exhausted orphan matrons.

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

Idania lifted her gaze from one of the toys and looked up for the result. The other three gawped at all the daggers in the backline. A cheer rose from the crowd.

Alden narrowed his eyes. “That’s got to be worth something good, right?”

Themby looked between the prince and Jittery. “There’s no rules for a full win.”

Jittery laughed once and gestured above. “How about two grand prizes, then?”

Idania giggled as Alden lifted his mouth in such a way to make his facial hair stick straight out. He gestured to one large soft-looking doll. “That one.”

Jittery pulled his chair over and climbed up to cut the doll down. He handed it to Themby who placed it on the counter. “What else, Your Highness?”

He furrowed his brow and looked to Idania. “Anything specific you want?”

She looked at his vibrant red eyes, still fired up from his long struggle to win any big prize for her, and she smiled. “Just you.”

His eyes narrowed, his mind still in the competition. He nodded slightly. “I love you, too. But which one do you want?”

She sighed and scanned over the dolls that hung. She eventually settled on one particularly iridescent serpent. “That one.”

The others all followed her finger. “That one?” She nodded. Jittery cut it down and handed it to Themby, as before. Jittery hopped down from the chair and smiled to the prince. “Once again, congratulations, Your Highness. Would you like to play again?”

Before Alden could think too hard about it, Idania swept in to scoop the serpent and the tiger off the bar. “Thank you so much for your hard work.” She tugged Alden by the arm to the pile of things he had won, away from the temptation of more dagger throwing.

Jittery followed them over to the edge of the stall. “Oh, I didn’t even notice you had won so many things! We… We didn’t really anticipate this situation. Would you like me to go find a bag?”

Alden looked at the pile of stuffed things and then to the sling. He squinted. “Maybe not.”

He picked up the sling and started to shove and cram all the smaller toys and dolls into it. After a few moments, the leather sling with elegant embossments hung at his side, filled to the brim with all manner of child toys and dolls. Idania stood beside him, holding the two grand prizes.

Jittery raised his eyebrows. “Well! You two look all set.”

Idania thanked him and Alden raised his left hand as they turned away. A few more steps down the lane and Alden heaved a heavy sigh. His shoulders released a bit of tension and he shook his head. “By Scorpius, I’m tired.”

She chuckled. “I daresay we should get you back to the palace. If for no other reason than your arm is exposed.”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what my mother is so worried about. It may not look pretty, but it works just fine.”

She shrugged as they wandered through the festival stalls. “I think that’s exactly what she’s worried about, the not pretty part. You’re still royalty and in order to maintain power, she has to maintain the appearance of strength and authority. And if you look like that,” she gestured toward his necrotic arm, “then others may view that as a sign of weakness.”

He groaned. “I hate this. I hate the posturing and the politics. I almost wish I had just… stayed lost.”

Idania stiffened. Memories of those years tickled at the edges of her mind, the journey she had been forced to go through after the incident. “But you don’t, do you?”

The gentle crunch of rocks against sand stopped. She turned around to him, attempting and failing to school her features into a gentle smile of a mask. He searched her eyes and lifted his hand, the veins of magic glowing a brighter purple as they moved to brush her cheek. The skin felt cold against hers, but she moved into his hand despite this.

“Of course I don’t. I’m sorry I said that.” He moved to press a kiss to her forehead. “As much as I hate the court, I love you more. I need you.”

She beamed.

“But, I also need to relieve myself-“

She groaned. “Again?”

[notyourfathersdungeonmaster]

How to Make Powerful NPCs Interesting Again

We all know the trope: the powerful wizard hires the party to go run some minor errand, which inevitably leads to them stumbling onto the World-Ending Plot, which they have to solve, alone, with only the occasional advice from their wizened mentor. It's a trope as old as time; even Hercules got occasional boons from godly beings to help him on his quests. It's a great narrative device, until some player stops and asks, "If this wizard is able to stop time with a snap of his fingers, why doesn't he just stride into the field and shove a ninth-level fireball into the Lich's cranial cavity?"

This simple bit of cognitive dissonance can really ruin the fun and undermine the urgency of an otherwise great adventure. If the party knows that the only reason they're on this quest is because Randalf the Off-White can't be bothered to deal with the horde of undead outside his tower, it can make them feel like chumps or patsies, and undermine any sense of gratitude that comes later during the campaign's denouement.

There's a few simple ways to fix this, though: tricks that can help you, the DM, keep your high level NPCs while also explaining why the great powers of the world are relying on this band of scrappy adventurers to solve all their problems. Below are just a few.

The Balance of Powers

This principle is a great one, but is often sadly overlooked in many campaigns. Simply put, in the above example, the wizard mentor doesn't get involved not because he can't, but because doing so would bring in a whole host of other powerful beings that would complicate the conflict. Perhaps there's a council of archmages who have all agreed, for the sake of maintaining the fabric of reality, that they should keep their Ninth-level spells in their pockets unless they all agree it's necessary. Perhaps the BBEG has a patron on the Council, and the mentor can't interfere on his own without dragging his evil opposite into the campaign. This can actually make for a great part of the climactic battle: the mentor decides he can't stay on the sidelines anymore, and joins the fray, participating in an epic wizard's duel.

This can also be used with deities bestowing boons on the party: they can act indirectly by helping the party, perhaps because one of their rival deities is already helping the BBEG. Thus, the conflict of the campaign turns into a proxy war for a larger divine conflict that can't be fought, because it would annihilate all of existence. If you do take this path, make sure your NPC stresses to the party how essential it is that they solve this issue, because if the major players themselves join the fight, no one will survive.

The Protector of Reality

Similar to the Balance of Powers, this rationale places the Epic NPC in a conflict from which they cannot afford to divert their attention or resources, even for a moment. Perhaps there is a constant threat of otherworldly incursion for which they need all (or almost all) of their capabilities; after all, you don't want to be caught with your pants down and your spell slots expended when Tiamat bursts through the material plane like an alien parasite from a man's stomach. Even the threat of such an apocalyptic event would mean that, like a missile in a silo, an epic level NPC would have to sit dormant, never expending his magical capabilities because he never knows when they may be required. This is actually a great archetype to use for the Wizard in the Tower trope; they may have built themselves a convenient magical retreat at great cost because they couldn't afford the spell slot to cast Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion everyday, not while that same spell slot may be needed to banish an archduke of the Nine Hells. So, they sit in the tower, separated from the affairs of the world by necessity - but, still caring about the world and wanting to make sure it's not a shit place to live, they can find and recruit adventurers to handle the more mundane threats that don't shake the foundations of the universe. This is also a great twist finale to use on the party: perhaps the Wizard in the Tower joins them in the final boss battle, expending all his magical power -- only for, at that moment, the threat he's been guarding against for centuries to finally arrive, and now it's up to the party to stand against them where he cannot.

The Otherworldly Being

This works especially well with warlock patrons, but it can work similarly well with questgivers and friendly NPCs that have an otherworldly or spiritual bent. The key idea is that the force recruiting, motivating, and rewarding the players is not located on the material plane itself and is therefore unable to act on it; they need to find a local agent to handle the problem. There is plenty of inspiration throughout myth and folklore; dream visitations, whether by angels, fiends, fey, or Lovecraftian horrors, are particularly common as an impetus to get an uncooperative character to fall into line. There are more tangible methods of communication as well; perhaps they are a being of immense power that is trapped in every mirror in the world and needs an agent to eventually get them free, or perhaps they can only manifest through signs and omens that require interpretation. If you want to pull from Greek mythology, there's also the possibility of a dedicated oracle who acts as the voice of the gods, but gives only vague, ominous prophecies that won't reveal their true weight until later. In all cases, a clear distinction is established between the power of the questgiver and the limitations of their abilities to influence the mortal realm, making the party the ones with agency in the situation.

The Hidden BBEG

You'll want to be careful how you use this one, because you only get one shot to pull it off with a given group, and once the players suspect something it is really, really hard to recover from it. The basic premise is that the powerful NPC who recruited them, who sent them off to fight against the Big Bad Evil Guy, was secretly a villain themselves, trying to bring down their rival or clear the way for their own scheme. Think of Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, sending the Jedi across the galaxy to deal with the Sith and the CIS, only to betray them all. Unfortunately this has become a major trope, and given how paranoid players typically are, it's very hard to pull off. There's a couple of tricks to making it work, and some of them may seem counterintuitive.

Do not make the Hidden BBEG perfect or flawless. Establish a set of motives for their actions, ones that may seem prosaic but also have a selfish bent. The high priest wants to rid the land of the evil king who is oppressing the population, but who is also stifling the priest's ability to build his church. The noble ruler wants to defeat the opposing empire that threatens the peace and stability of his lands, but also is motivated by revenge for the war crimes committed in the past. Create a pretext that puts them on the same side as the party, but a subtext that leaves the party slightly uneasy. If the party is concerned about their ally having selfish motives, they'll be expecting selfishness, even recklessness, but not duplicity and betrayal.

Do not reveal the full capabilities of the Hidden BBEG. If anything, they should appear to be about mid-level; capable, but not able to handle world-shaking threats. Most often they are hiding their capabilities until some final piece is brought into their grasp. One excellent example would be Fraz-Urb'luu, one of the demon princes of the Abyss, who is obsessed with recovering his staff of power; as a Hidden BBEG, he might pose as a friend to the party, waiting until they recover all the pieces and bring them to him before he strikes, showing his true might. Another excellent example is the Heirophant from the classic geek movie The Gamers: Dorkness Rising.

Show genuine conflict in the Hidden BBEG. Let them display passion and inner conflict, moments where they are troubled by the methods the party uses and the methods they and their followers are forced to use. There's an old adage that every villain is the hero of their own story; if you can make that ring true for your Hidden BBEG, to make the party invested in not just their cause but in maintaining their moral character, then the betrayal will hurt even more.

The Common Crowd

This might seem counterintuitive, but sometimes the best Epic NPC isn't epic at all, but just a collection of ordinary folk. If your campaign originates in a specific village or town, especially one full of colorful, memorable NPCs with personal ties to the party, then the collective needs and will of that settlement can become a questgiver NPC in its own right. The town is suffering from an unnatural drought? Send the party to seek out aid or a magical cure. The town is displaced following an invasion? Keeping the town safe and finding them a new home becomes a priority. This can also become a source of individualized side quests for the PCs; they're likely to be far more concerned about seeking out the rare medicine required to save the orphan girl who the rogue took under wing than they are about exploring a random tomb for loot drops. Plus, if the PCs invest their time and effort into protecting the town, it can make for an amazing final battle when the townsfolk come to support the party in battle, armed with everything they can get their hands on, ready to die for their heroes (a.k.a. The 'Mass Effect' Effect).

I hope these provide some good inspiration for your campaign! Let me know if there's any tricks you've used on your campaigns that worked particularly well, or any that you think should be added.

[fvlminare]

✗✗✗   you see [ camille rivas ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis female ] is up to no good. [ she / her ] has been here for [ three years ] now but they’re still pretty [ calculating ] which is fine because they’re also [ ardent ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-six ] year old [ dancer at mayhem ] actually looks like a lot like [ sofia carson ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ the rush of cocaine in her veins & a vice grip on her throat ]. 

henlo it me again! i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc here’s my other bb! say hello to my boss-ass bish gal camile! she’s sassy, classy and a lil badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger who cba with ur bullshit tbh n she’ll tell u this too if u piss her off enough! she’s lowkey cutthroat and always out for number one, aka: herself. but, i mean, she does have some redeeming qualities and her hair is bomb af so that makes up for it all really, doesn’t it? basically that meme: ‘ she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face. ’ anywho, you know the drill, slap a lil luv on this n i’ll come pester u for all the good stuff : - ) 

fundamentals.

CAMILLE ALARA RIVAS     —     twenty-six, dancer at mayhem,   +   an honest-to-god vixen   /   hellcat   /   lil demoness ! 

aesthetics   ➤   dresses of black lace and red velvet, the scent of chanel perfume lingering in the air as she floats past, blood-red fingertips coiled around the pistol grip of a gun, red-bottomed heels clicking against marble floors, rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones, satin dresses draped over a svelte frame that is shrouded in an air of mystery and intrigue, baby pink roses in a vase on the window sill, deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long raven locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, a sense of freedom and carelessness when dancing for fun, & a sense of allurement and captivation when dancing for work.

nicknames. cam, cami, mil, millie, spawn of satan >:~)

date of birth. april tenth.

gender. cis female.

pronouns. she + her.

birthplace. manhattan, new york.

orientation. pansexual + demiromantic.

education. bachelor of dance degree obtained from nyu tisch school of the arts.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, impulsive, guileful, caustic, brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. ardent, whimsical, intrepid, graceful, poised, elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

talents. ballet, knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, horse riding, figure skating, piano, violin, painting, singing, & dancing.

physiology. hazel eyes. dark brown hair. five feet, four inches tall. of a petite, slender stature with subtle curves and long hair. has a long silvery scar on her back. her skin is clean of any tattoos. has both earlobes pierced. requires glasses but wears contacts most days. is right-handed.

psychology. aries zodiac. fire element. ravenclaw house. istp-a. true neutral. type seven enneagram. choleric temperament. intra-personal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and abandonment issues. her vices are lust, greed and wrath. her virtues are ... ( again ) honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers   :   child abandonment, abandonment issues, foster homes, alcohol, drugs, violence, gore, blood, murder, & death.

a synopsis.   ok so for this gal, let’s all give a big, warm welcome to sadness ( no, i was in no way at all inspired by salem from sabrina for that line ) bc boy oh boy, her life has been constant grief and pain, tbh. strap in for the bumpy ride, i’ll give u cookies for compensation. OK SO, camille was abandoned as a baby, never did—and still doesn't—know her biological parents and she doesn’t want to either, tbh. she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. it didn’t take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, camille knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. she always felt starved of love: as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void that nobody could ever fill. anywho, she fell in with the wrong crowd which did little to aid her foster families hostility toward her. truthfully, most of her experiences in various homes were ... not pleasant. she’d encountered abusive ‘parents,’ horrible ‘siblings,’ and even worse schooling days. pressing the self-destruct button is this gal’s speciality thus she found herself gravitating towards her vices: things and people she knew were no good for her. drink, drugs, people, you name it. quickly, she realised that these things were no longer any good at keeping her dark side at bay: she needed something more, something deeper. thus, she began going down the road of petty crimes—stealing cars, smashing windows, theft, setting fires both metaphorically and literally. due to this lifestyle, she wound up entangled with some real shady folk who did … even shadier things. most specifically, she started dating a real jackass who was violent and truthfully, a horrible person, really. stupidly, she decided to run off into the metaphorical sunset with him * insert eye roll emoji here. * so, fast forward a year or so and things took a swift nosedive when her lowlife boyfriend’s hands were round her throat and not in the kinky way. while she’d clawed at him and tried to fight him off, she struggled against his weight and strength until, eventually, she lifted the first makeshift weapon she felt: a rusted pair of scissors. [ TRIGGER FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH ] and, in a blind state of panic, she jammed them right into his jugular vein, his blood squirting out and decorating her face in crimson splatters. he’d stumbled backwards, clutched onto his neck, blood spurting from the webs between his fingers. naturally, camille was shook about this but somehow managed to flee the scene with less guilt rattling her soul than she’d imagined. [ TRIGGER OVER ] in her mind, it was an act of self defence. it wasn’t too long after the incident that she found herself in a rather perilous situation that resulted in her sudden realisation that she needed to get her damn life on track. therefore, she done the responsible adult thing and got herself a decent education. somehow, she managed to get into university where her life started to shape into a positive one—the kind she’d always dreamed of. once she graduated, camille decided that she wanted to see the world. following a couple of years travelling, she wound up in santa ysabel where she quickly fell into the employment of mayhem. admittedly, this was a far cry from the future she’d envisioned when she was just a sweet, innocent lil child. still, all in all, she kind of digs who she is and what she is: after everything she’s been through, she loves herself. it’s been a long and winding road but camille finally believes that she’s settled in her life now. tho she still refuses to let people in, her abandonment issues terrifying her to the degree that she feels that anybody she’d ever let into her life would eventually leave her in the end. * insert sad face emoji here. *

random extras.

her tell? playing with her hair: when she’s lying, nervous, flirting—you name it!

can drink any man under the table. 

she loves art in every form: paintings, sculptures, music, dance, people, etc. she loves the freedom that expressing herself through these mediums gives her.

she’s ... experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people ...

can be hella calculating and vindictive so do not cross her.

quite power-hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century-long list shkjsh.

high key is not above killing people who don’t do things her way.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

she’s lowkey a perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, also cutthroat and egotistical.

if ya ain’t of use to her, then what the heck is ur purpose???

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be ... aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues.

dry sense of humour one million per cent.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. and always carries one on her person at all times.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo lighter. it has her initials engraved into it and where she got it from, or who is something she’ll never tell.

always says she needs to quit smoking but never does and probably never will either.

did someone say ... resting bitch face???

tho when she smiles it’s like sunshine uwu

high key will sleep with anyone.

first place is the ONLY acceptable place, ok??? 

one of those people who just excels at everything she tries her hand at.

absolutely adores animals. much prefers them to humans.

she’s quite adventurous and loves to feel the adrenaline in her blood.

doesn’t take herself or her life too seriously.

always up for a good time and is usually the life of the party.

outspoken and quick-witted with a sharp tongue.

much too sassy and sarcastic for her own good.

really, she does what she wants to, when she wants to, without seeking the approval of others.

truthfully? she’s a bit of a spitfire if you really irk her. so, watch out.

you can find a pinterest board for her by clicking anywhere here.

[dvp95]

i don’t want to go

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: teen & up tags: memory loss/amnesia, established relationship, introspection, hurt/comfort word count: 7.4k summary: There are long-term effects of brain injuries, because of course there are. Phil’s got a list in his phone and on the fridge that Dan takes very seriously. It’s more or less a joke to Phil.

a fifth installment of amnesia au? yeah

read on ao3 or here!

Phil has a migraine again.

It's not surprising with the amount of stimulus all around him, but it doesn't stop him from being annoyed by it. He bites his tongue and follows Dan through the shop, making noncommittal noises whenever he holds something up. Dan doesn't seem particularly bothered by Phil's lack of interest.

“Maybe not,” Dan is saying to himself, because he doesn't need Phil in order to carry a conversation.

“Why not?” Phil asks. He doesn't care, really, but he can't keep drifting like he's dreaming, Dan's solid presence the only real tether he's got.

Dan blinks like he's surprised that Phil is contributing. Phil tries not to be irritated by that. It's not fair to Dan when the source is at Phil's temples, behind his eyes, a constant throbbing pain that won't go away until he sleeps.

“We got her something like it a couple years ago,” Dan explains, putting the purse back where he got it from. “She still uses that one, seems silly to get her a new one already.”

“I think girls usually have a few bags,” says Phil.

“Yeah. Doesn't mean we need to supply her habit. Let's keep looking.”

Phil doesn't bother pointing out that he's never met Louise and has no idea what she likes, because Dan is on a mission. They've had to put off the shopping late thanks to check-ins at the hospital and sporadic, unsuccessful house showings with Ellie. Dan has done some shopping online already for both of them, but he’d insisted on at least one afternoon of walking around the shops and buying ridiculous stuff. Tradition, or whatever.

Normally Phil loves Christmas, and shopping for the people he loves is a huge part of that, but right now he just wants to go home and lie down with a heat pack over his eyes.

He locks his jaw so he doesn’t say something he’ll regret and lets Dan lead them through the narrow pathways that this small, overpriced boutique allows. Every time Phil idly tugs at a price tag he feels uncertain and undeserving and, okay, annoyed. That specific combination is more or less his default mood as of late, but it gets exacerbated when he has to deal with a lot of strangers or the familiar dull, insistent pulse of pain in his skull. He’s dealt with migraines his whole life, but they’ve gotten so much more consistent and painful. He’d been warned about that by one of his many doctors - it’s a fun little reminder that his brain doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to anymore.

If Phil said he has a migraine, Dan would take him home immediately. He’d turn off all the lights and shut the blinds and let Phil use his thigh as a pillow; the unscented candles would be lit and Dan’s long fingers would be petting Phil’s hair, rubbing his temples, helping the pain and irritation seep out of Phil’s body.

But, if Phil said he has a migraine, then Dan will also worry, and he will worry loudly. He’ll be quiet while he’s helping Phil, because he’s a good fiancé like that. A good person like that - Phil is sure that Dan would do whatever he could to make anyone feel better, because he’s got a soft heart and relatively good intuition. Then, Phil will fall asleep, or the headache will release him for a little while, and that’s when Dan’s worry gets unbearably loud. Questions about how long it’s been hurting, reminders of things the specialist told them as if Phil wasn’t also in the room, maybe even phone calls if he considers it to be particularly worrisome.

He means well. Phil knows that he means well.

“Perfume isn’t really a good gift,” says Dan. Maybe he’s been talking the whole time that Phil’s been on another planet. There’s no real way to tell. “Not for Louise, she’s too particular.”

“If you say so,” says Phil. He squeezes his eyes shut while Dan’s back is turned, pressing the heel of each palm against them like he can somehow massage the headache away. He doesn’t do it for too long, doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, so after a couple of seconds he returns his hands to his pockets and does his best to ignore their tremor.

--

There are long-term effects of brain injuries, because of course there are. Phil’s got a list of them in his phone and on the fridge, and he’s supposed to say something to Dan or his doctors whenever he experiences them. Dan takes it all very seriously. It’s more or less a joke to Phil.

Memory loss. Well, it hasn’t gotten worse, so Phil counts that as a win.

Loss of balance. Seriously? Phil isn’t going to report every time he trips over his own feet, cracks in the sidewalk, nothing at all.

Mood swings. Phil’s pretty sure that Dan keeps his own record of that, and he has to remind himself not to get grumpy about it or it’ll just be another goddamn entry in the Phil.exe Stopped Working log.

There are more than Phil can easily keep track of, and he’s sure that there are more things that his doctors and specialist and Dan are all watching for. It's frustrating, because he'd rather everything just go back to normal, and he's sure that Dan is only going to work himself up by looking for things that aren't inherently symptoms.

--

Christmas used to be Phil’s favourite time of year. Nothing got him quite as excited as the smell of pine and his mum’s holiday baking. He can tell that Dan likes it too; Dan keeps dragging him places and showing him unfamiliar things and claiming tradition on it all. Phil’s got no reason to be suspicious, but he knows that he would definitely use his fiancé’s lack of knowledge to his advantage, so there’s a part of him that sees six packets of mince pies in their trolley and wonders if he’s being screwed with.

It’s still nice, he supposes. They do up the tree and Dan shows him all their ornaments with the sort of soft dimpling that Phil fell in love with. Back in love with. Whatever. Their flat isn’t decked out the way that it would be if Phil took initiative, but he’s really struggling to muster up excitement for the holiday right now.

Dan notices. Obviously Dan notices. They spend every waking moment together, basically, and Dan knows him well. It would be stranger if he didn’t notice.

“You’ll feel better when we go see your folks,” Dan says, a sad sort of smile curving his pretty mouth. He’s wrapping presents, signing both of their names on all of them, and Phil feels downright useless. He didn’t pick anything out for their friends or families and he can’t even make a cube look as nice as Dan does. “It’s impossible not to be in the spirit around your mum, you know that.”

Familiar dread settles in Phil’s gut, and he shrugs. It’s easier to go back to his notebook than to explain that, actually, the last thing he wants right now is to see his family. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just his parents and Martyn, but it won’t be.

His mum has already texted him a few times to tell him great aunt so-and-so is excited to see him again or that the younger kids in the family know what's going on with him and think it's 'so cool', so Phil is prepared for a deluge of extended family travelling to the Isle. He's never been good at being the center of attention, and he's really not looking forward to an entire week of the What Does Phil Remember game. Even the thought of having Dan with him, celebrating together and being out, something Phil can barely wrap his head around, isn't enough to ease the anxiety.

Dan is looking forward to it, though, and Phil feels guilty for not wanting to spend time with his family, so. He doesn't say anything.

Instead, he turns back to his notebook. He finds things slipping through his fingers so much more easily now than they used to, and he isn’t sure if that’s from the brain injury or from getting old, but he hates it either way. Scribbling things down helps, sometimes, even if it isn’t full sentence journalling. Lots of doodles and half-thoughts mixed in with actually useful things; he’d had a list of potential gifts to get for people that he turned out not to need.

He’s sure that if he’d insisted on picking something out himself, Dan would have been more than supportive. The thing is, Phil is too busy fighting his own body to put effort into talking the world’s most opinionated man out of a bucket hat for Martyn. Dan knows better, anyway.

Maybe that rankles more than Phil wants to admit. Maybe this whole thing, really, rankles.

Phil doesn’t like getting angry. It happens, frequently, but he doesn’t enjoy the feeling. He should be able to enjoy this. He’s got a mug of cocoa and the beginning doodles of a storyboard and a gorgeous man wrapping presents under a gorgeous tree, and it’s his favourite time of the year. If anything, he should be happy. Ecstatic. Grateful.

There’s pressure at Phil’s temples again, and he feels that bubble of anger start to swell. It fills him like a helium balloon from the depths of hell, hot and all-encompassing and sudden.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his teeth. If Dan asks, he’ll just say that he’s tired. He uses that line a lot lately. It’s obvious that Dan doesn’t believe him, and Phil doesn’t make any particular effort to sound more genuine, but Dan hasn’t pushed him on it yet.

That’s good. Phil thinks it’s good, anyway. He doesn’t like being angry, and he doesn’t want to know how it feels to shout at Dan again.

He doesn’t like it, but he is. He is angry. He is so goddamn angry.

--

There are good days, even in the guilty stress of Christmas planning. There are days where Phil can tangle up with Dan and trade lazy kisses, days where he can go to Starbucks alone, days where his mum calls and they talk about everything under the sun just like they used to. Sure, Phil has to be careful not to touch Dan in ways that are instinctive but not welcome, careful to text Dan every ten minutes when he’s out by himself, careful about what he says to his mum so that she doesn’t start to cry, but those aren’t hardships, exactly, and they don’t make Phil’s good days any less good. It’s just harder and harder to brush them off.

It’s like a parasite, the anger. Even when it’s dormant, Phil feels twinges of irritation to things he normally doesn’t mind at all. The sound of Dan humming when he’s puttering around the kitchen is something he’s loved for as long as he can remember, and now it takes actual effort for pre-coffee Phil not to snap at him or leave the room.

Today is a good day. There are no lingering traces of an ache in Phil’s broken head, his parents aren’t adding any stress to his plate, and he can remember why he loves the annoying things Dan does.

Phil is trailing after Dan again, but that’s because he’s been doubled over laughing at something Dan muttered under his breath and they’re trying not to catch each other’s eye so they don’t bust up again. He follows Dan, reluctantly, into an aisle and starts poking at all the health food packages as if they’re suspicious.

“You like quinoa, stupid,” Dan giggles. He gently smacks at Phil’s hands, and Phil tangles their fingers together. It’s just for a moment, because Dan is actually attempting to shop for healthy food despite Phil’s best efforts, but it makes Phil feel lighter than air. He can hold a guy’s hand, however briefly, in a grocery aisle. He can just do that. It’s terrifying and exhilarating every time he does it, and he can’t help but look around them in a wary move that’s ingrained into him no matter what Dan tells him about things changing.

Nobody is paying them any mind at all. The giddiness in his chest spreads through his whole body, and Phil decides that he wants to feel this way all the time. He knows that it isn’t logical, that his life right now has serious stumbling blocks and that he can’t control the mood swings, but he’s old enough to know that optimism is a conscious choice he has to keep making or he’ll become someone he doesn’t like at all.

He wanders off while Dan reads ingredients on something new he wants to try and manages to add three more snacks to the cart before Dan notices.

--

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on in there?”

Dan’s voice is quiet and his fingers are running through Phil’s hair. He never comments on the length of it, on the fact that Phil is obviously growing it out, but Phil does wonder if it bothers some part of him. If Dan thinks he’s regressing, or clinging to the parts of himself he can control. Phil doesn’t even have a good rebuttal for that.

“In where?” Phil asks. He’s sleepier than he wants to admit and stubbornly ignoring the way his eyes keep drifting shut. He wants to finish this movie, at least, before he hauls Dan off to bed for a good cuddle.

Dan chuckles softly and gathers Phil’s fringe up to kiss his forehead without a barrier.

“Stupid,” he says, absolutely oozing with fondness. Phil wants to curl up in Dan’s love like a blanket sometimes, a safe haven from the rest of the world. “There's something going on in here.”

His long fingers tap Phil’s forehead, so gentle, and the puzzle pieces click together in Phil’s very tired mind. He laughs and turns his face further into Dan’s shoulder. There’s a million reasons he should keep his feelings to himself, but Dan has a way of slipping past all of Phil’s walls. Right now, in this moment, Phil can’t remember a single one of those million reasons. He yawns and buries his nose into Dan’s collarbone. The trace of mint and musk clinging to Dan’s skin makes him feel even calmer.

This is a safe haven. Phil isn’t much of a talker when it comes to his feelings, but he wants to tell Dan what’s going on with him. He wants to be the kind of husband who can answer that question instead of bottling everything up until it explodes.

“I don’t wanna go away for Christmas,” he whispers it like a secret, right into Dan’s chest.

For a long moment, Dan is quiet. Only the pause of his fingers in Phil’s hair indicate that he heard Phil at all.

“Why?”

There’s hurt and bewilderment in Dan’s voice, because of course there is. Phil is too tired to feel a proper frisson of irritation, but he can’t hold back a sigh. He presses the softest kiss to Dan’s collarbone and comes up to give him a sleepy smile. “Sorry,” he says. “I just mean I want to stay here with you forever.”

It’s the truth, but it’s not the whole truth. Phil watches the quiet confusion in Dan’s big brown eyes turn to mush before he rolls them.

“Alright, if you’re bringing up the F word,” says Dan, “then it’s definitely bedtime.”

“You have a lot of F words,” Phil notes. His smile feels more genuine now. “Famous, forever…”

Dan shudders dramatically and presses his fingers into Phil’s ticklish sides to make him laugh, too loud for the time of night.

“Fuck you,” Dan says, dimples in full force. “C’mon. Bed.”

“There’s still like half an hour left,” Phil protests. He doesn’t actually care much about the ending of the movie, but it’s fun to dig his heels in and get Dan all fond and exasperated. He can’t bite back his grin fast enough.

“You don’t care,” Dan laughs and stands up, turning off the TV sometime in the process. Phil is very impressed by the multitasking.

“I don’t,” Phil agrees. He’s all too happy to leave the topic of Christmas on the sofa, in the twinkling lights of their objectively very pretty tree. He pulls Dan into a soft, lingering kiss and then gestures at the ceiling as if it’s an explanation. “Mistletoe,” he says, and then darts around Dan to get to the bathroom first.

They haven’t hung any mistletoe. Dan’s bark of a laugh follows him through the quiet, dark flat and makes every corner of it feel brighter.

--

In the morning, Dan looks up from his phone. “Were you serious about not going anywhere for Christmas?”

Phil hasn’t had his coffee and there’s a twinge behind his left eye, so all he can really manage to do without scowling is shake his head. It seems to be the answer Dan was looking for, anyway, since it makes his shoulders relax and his lips curve up a bit. Phil feels a little guilty for lying and some irrational annoyance at Dan for not being able to tell, but he focuses on his coffee and on that pretty pink patch on Dan’s cheek to ground himself.

--

Through his whole life, Phil has never liked hospital or being prodded at by doctors, but he’d gotten off easy before now. He’s found himself sitting on a flat mattress or an uncomfortable chair in the past six months far more often than he ever wanted to. They run tests and they ask him questions and never figure anything out.

It’s a surefire way to get Phil’s migraines to make an appearance. The combination of fluorescent lights, difficult conversation, and stress from the lack of any progress hasn’t failed to make it feel like someone is jackhammering his frontal lobe yet.

Dan has a hard time sitting still at the best of times, so he tends to pace around the room whenever they have these appointments. Even so, he manages to hold the thread of what the doctors say better than Phil can. It’s probably important for Phil to be paying attention to what his neurologist is saying, since he’s here to follow up with her after his last episode, but Phil is having such a hard time concentrating lately. Especially when it’s the same stuff, over and over again: they don’t know what’s causing this, common things keep getting ruled out, he’s a mystery but he’s not in any danger, etc.

They’re starting to sound like Charlie Brown’s parents to Phil at this point. He relies on Dan to tell him the important bits later.

Normally the various doctors he’s seen since he first fainted haven’t minded if he zones out a bit. They call it a symptom and say his concentration isn’t going to be what it used to be, don’t accept Dan’s apologies for it, but the truth is that Phil just can’t listen to them talk about him like they’re verbally shrugging and not lose his entire mind. Today, though, his neurologist makes a point of getting his attention.

“Phil,” she says, and Phil realises that he doesn’t actually know her name.

“Sorry, what?”

She doesn’t sigh, but Phil imagines it’s a close call. Dan stops his pacing around the room and stands with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, giving his full attention even though he isn’t being spoken to.

“Phil,” she says again. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?” Phil asks.

Her lips twitch. “In general. I know this whole experience must be a lot for you, and I was wondering if you were talking to anyone about it.”

“I talk to you guys,” says Phil, gesturing around her office to indicate the doctors as a whole. “And to Dan, and my family.”

Phil doesn’t make a habit of lying to his doctors, but he hates that it does feel like a lie to say he talks to his family about his feelings. They’re just… in mourning, basically, for someone that Phil will probably never be again. Dan is too, but he’s a lot more open and easy to talk to. He sees Dan’s eyebrows raise at the answer and has to hold back a giggle.

“I was actually asking if you’re in the process of seeing a psychiatrist,” the neurologist clarifies. Phil’s brief amusement from the exchange sours quickly. He’s not sure what the doctor and Dan see on his face, but she’s quick to keep talking. “You’ve gone through a trauma, Phil, and it’s very normal to struggle with it. Talking to someone unbiased and professional can be a helpful way to wrap your mind around what you’re going through.”

There’s something she isn’t saying, as well. Phil hears it anyway. He has a suspicion that his doctors think his memories could come back if he goes to therapy, like he’s repressed them or something instead of them being stolen from him.

Phil doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep the frustration out of his voice if he does.

“That’s a good idea,” Dan says, more to Phil than to the doctor.

Of course Dan thinks it’s a good idea. Dan goes to therapy and enjoys it. Well, okay, ‘enjoy’ is a strong word. It benefits Dan, gives him tools that he can use on days where getting out of bed feels impossible, gives him an emotional outlet that he desperately needs. Dan feels things so strongly and so deeply that it scares Phil, sometimes.

Phil… doesn’t. He’s got better things to do with his time than worry about the why and how of every fleetingly wayward emotion - he’d rather push it down, move past it, on his own time. He imagines spilling his guts to a complete stranger and almost laughs. He can’t even tell his mother how he feels about being treated like a circus freak or tell his fiancé how he feels about celebrating Christmas this year. Hell, Phil doesn’t even tell waitstaff when they bring him the wrong thing. It’s funny to picture him laid on a sofa and laying out his whole life for someone to poke and prod at.

He knows he’s still making a face, and he sees something in Dan’s shutter. Phil taps his own knee at the same time that Dan taps his own finger against his forearm. One, two. We’ll talk about this later.

“Can I ask something that might sound a bit rude?”

“You can ask anything you’d like,” Phil’s neurologist says. She looks inordinately surprised by him even offering to speak, which almost makes Phil laugh again.

“Well, I just,” Phil starts. He doesn’t like the way Dan is staring daggers at him like he’s waiting for Phil to make a wrong move. Purposefully, he angles his body away from Dan to talk directly to the doctor. “I just want to know. Are we running out of things to do here? On the medical side of things, I mean. Is this a last resort, might as well try it, sort of thing? Or do you genuinely think that my brain will work better if I let someone analyze it every week?”

Dan makes some kind of noise. Phil ignores it.

“I believe that psychiatry is a very important tool for recovery in many of my patients,” she says. To Phil, that sounds a lot like a non-answer. He’s pretty well-versed in those himself.

“Okay,” he says, trying to keep his tone level. “So you think this is all in my head?”

“Only in the sense that your head is where you keep your brain,” she says, rather kindly. “And your brain has been through a lot. Traumatic brain injuries can affect you months and even years after the original incident, and I was only suggesting that you consider an avenue that has helped others with symptoms and difficulties following such an enormous thing.”

“I don’t have any difficulties,” Phil says, stubborn. He can feel Dan’s gaze and already knows what he’s thinking, but this isn’t a knee-jerk reaction. He doesn’t think he needs to go to therapy.

“It’s up to you, entirely your decision,” she says, which makes a tense part of Phil relax. He knows that logically, but his anxiety appreciates it being said out loud. “I’ll give you some reading to take home about the benefits of therapy while your brain is in recovery mode, okay? Take some time to think about it before you dismiss it.”

The topic changes to something about blood work that Phil has already heard, so he feels comfortable zoning back out.

He chances a glance at Dan, who is practically vibrating with things that he’s surely desperate to say. Phil taps his own knee again to circumvent the argument happening in front of one of his doctors and watches as Dan’s jaw clenches.

--

Irritability. Phil keeps his eyes fixed on the window in the backseat of their Uber so he doesn’t have to look at Dan. He’s got a throb in his temple and every time Dan makes a noise like he’s about to talk, it makes irrational annoyance spike through Phil. He doesn’t want to snap, but he thinks he might if Dan actually speaks to him. Luckily, the drive is without incident.

Anxiety. Well, Phil already had that going for him, so there’s no way to tell if the brain injury made it worse. The silence between them in the lift lassos Phil’s Worst Case Scenario thoughts into the forefront of his mind. What if Dan has finally had enough of this?

Impaired social skills. The door shuts behind them and Dan turns to face him, hands on his hips. Phil lingers for four whole seconds and then murmurs something about taking a nap, escaping downstairs.

Phil lies on his stomach with his face buried in Dan’s pillow and wonders exactly how many side effects he can check off today. He’s clearly already fucked things up.

--

Obviously, Dan doesn’t let him get away with wallowing alone.

“We’re talking now,” he says, firm. Phil noses further into the pillow for a moment and considers not responding. It isn’t that he wants to make Dan angry, it’s that he doesn’t want to get angry himself, and staying quiet seems like the most effective way to stay calm.

He knows Dan won’t accept that, though. Dan isn’t the type to walk away from Phil, no matter what mood he’s in.

So Phil sighs, rolling onto his back. “I don’t want to go.”

“I can tell,” Dan huffs. “I really think you should, though. Therapy is -”

“No,” Phil cuts him off. He interrupts Dan more often than he interrupts anyone else - due in part to the sheer amount of time that Dan spends talking - but he never likes doing it when they’re having a serious conversation. His head hurts, though, and he can’t lie here and listen to Dan espouse all the wonderful things about getting psychoanalyzed when that’s only a little bit what this is about. “No, Dan, I’m not just talking about therapy.”

A beat. The mattress dips where Dan sits down, but they don’t reach for each other yet. “Okay. What else are you talking about?”

“I don't want to go to the Isle,” Phil tells the ceiling, because that's easier than watching the disappointment crest over Dan's face. “I don’t want everybody asking me questions and looking older and making me feel like I’m broken. I get enough of that here.”

“Excuse me?” Dan asks, and Phil squeezes his eyes shut like he won’t be able to hear the hurt in Dan’s voice if he can’t see. Dan’s palm presses to his thigh, making him jump a bit. “Phil, hey, no. Look at me.”

Phil bites his lip and sits up. He takes a couple of breaths before he opens his eyes, though, letting his anxiety run rampant on what kind of emotions he’s going to see in Dan’s big brown eyes when he does. In the end, it’s primarily confusion. The bad things are there, too, the hurt and disappointment and maybe anger, but it seems like Dan is mostly just unsure why Phil is saying the things he’s saying.

“I don’t want to see my family,” Phil whispers, swallowing around the guilt rising like bile in his throat.

“You love your family,” says Dan. “And you love Christmas.”

“I do,” Phil agrees. His voice is still quiet, like someone other than Dan might hear him if he says it any louder. Dan’s mouth twists unhappily. He tangles his fingers with Phil’s and squeezes, just on the edge of too tight.

“So what’s the deal? I don’t understand.” The admission seems to take something out of Dan. He curls closer to Phil and rests the back of his free hand against Phil’s forehead.

“I don’t have a fever, Dan,” says Phil. He doesn’t duck away from the attention, though, because Dan pushes his fringe off his forehead and leans in to kiss it. The simple action quiets the noise in Phil’s mind so much that he smiles a little bit. “And I’m not going to fucking break, y’know, but I might if I have to be around so many people I barely even know anymore while my head pounds and they act like I’m a teenager.”

Something like comprehension hits Dan’s expression, but he still isn’t happy. “You do know them, though.”

“Not really,” Phil says with a little shrug. “I love them. I’d rather see them separately, though. I don’t want to feel like an animal in a zoo or something, babe.”

“So, what, you want to just stay home?” Dan asks.

His tone makes it sound like that’s ridiculous, unheard of. Phil looks down at their joined hands and lets himself really think about it. What would his family really do if he claimed not to be up for travelling? They’d be disappointed, obviously, and some of them might lay the guilt on a little strong, but.

But. Phil can see it. Christmas morning in this bed, legs tangled with Dan’s and trading lazy bribes for who has to get up and make coffee. Giving Dan his gift under the tree they decorated together, watching the way he’d light up, doing sappy things like dancing to carols in a kitchen they don’t own. It sounds infinitely better than his cousins asking him questions he doesn’t know the answer to and trying not to jump every time Dan holds his hand in front of family members.

“I do,” Phil says, as honest as he knows how to be. “You’re my family, you dork. I want to spend Christmas with you.”

“I’ll be with you wherever we go,” Dan reminds him.

Phil knows that, but it isn’t the same. He doesn’t have to play a role when it’s just him and Dan. He can be a little grumpy and headachy without being paraded around afterwards. He can feel a sense of himself in his favourite holiday instead of forcing himself into a role that he isn’t sure suits him anymore.

“The whole thing has been making me anxious for, like, weeks,” Phil admits. Dan’s brow furrows, but Phil doesn’t have the energy to feel bad for keeping that from him. “I want a lowkey Christmas. I want to just… spend the day with you and make our own traditions and give you the only present I was able to pick out myself. I don’t want to deal with coming out or, I dunno, hearing about all the tragedies I’ve been so fucking lucky to miss out on being around for. I’ll have a headache all week, Dan, and you must know that.”

For a long moment, Dan doesn’t say anything. He raises their joined hands to his mouth and presses soft kisses over the back of Phil’s hand.

“I didn’t know that,” Dan says, quiet. The disappointment is still obvious in his expressive eyes. Phil is fairly sure that Dan couldn’t hide genuine emotion if he tried.

Phil thinks about Dan teasing his mum over not being able to find an app, trading friendly jabs with his dad, making his brother laugh so hard that he’d doubled over at the table, and he realises that this is disappointing to Dan for more than the standard reasons.

He doesn’t know much about Dan’s family - only as much as Dan is willing to share on any given day, which is barely anything at all - but he knows how Dan feels about Phil’s family. Now he’s got a whole new guilt complex. Maybe he ought to suck it up, for Dan’s sake, so that Dan can spend Christmas getting spoiled rotten by Phil’s parents and he can know what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.

“I’ll tell you what,” says Phil. He squeezes Dan’s hand. “If you stay home this Christmas with me, and maybe do dinner with your family or with our friends instead of travelling, then I’ll go to therapy. I won’t even complain.”

Dan makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sob and rubs at his eyes with his free hand. “You will,” he says.

“I will,” Phil agrees with a sheepish smile. “But… this is what I want. And I’m sorry.”

“I’ll think about it,” says Dan. Phil has been living in this flat long enough to know that I’ll think about it is basically an acquiescence from Dan, since he tends to make his mind up quick and firm. Dan must see that relief on Phil’s face, because he laughs and leans in for a kiss. “Okay, okay, it’s a good deal. I can even recommend a therapist.”

--

Phil understands why Dan feels comfort here as soon as he sits down. The small office has cushy chairs and a neutral palette, surely designed to put anyone at ease. Phil can see the personal details around it that he knows helped Dan specifically, though. The bookshelf, overflowing with biographies and small giraffe statues; the diplomas bracketing a framed vinyl that Phil doesn’t recognise but is certain that Dan appreciates; the friendly fern in the corner that practically waves at him when the door opens and shuts.

“Hi, Phil,” the young woman says. Her tone is polite but warm, less like a customer service agent and more like a friend of a friend. Her thin dark braids are pulled up into some sort of updo that looks extremely complicated to Phil at a glance. She’s wearing blue jeans and a blouse with birds on it, and Phil can’t help but point to the pattern on his own shirt.

“We match,” he jokes weakly. Surely she can only see his collar, because Dan’s borrowed jacket is obscuring most of his own birds, but she smiles anyway.

“That’s a funny coincidence,” she says, taking a seat. She’s almost directly across from him, but Phil can see the light filtering through the blinds and the happy leaves of her fern clearly if he doesn’t want to look her in the eye. “I’m Robin.”

“I knew that already,” says Phil. He can’t help the apologetic edge, even if he’s not sure what he’s apologising for. Knowing her name? Being here? Imposing on what should be Dan’s space because he’s more broken than he originally thought and doesn’t know how to trust a stranger? Phil wants to verbalise exactly zero percent of that, so he shrugs his shoulders to indicate that he’s sorry and doesn’t want to acknowledge being sorry.

There’s a moment of silence, but Phil doesn’t feel the need to fill it. He wonders if that’s her tactic with Dan, giving him as much opportunity to spill his guts as she possibly can. That probably works well enough for him. The silence just sort of makes Phil itchy.

Finally, Robin nods. She fiddles with her phone for a moment before placing it face-down on the arm of her chair. There’s a notebook in her lap, but she doesn’t open it.

“Okay, so,” she starts, and Phil has to look down at his own hands so he doesn’t look right in her wide, dark eyes. This is nerve-wracking enough without eye contact added onto it. “Today, you and I are just going to get to know each other a little bit. You’ll get a feel for the process more quickly than you’d expect. I’d just like to go over our confidentiality agreement with you first, if that’s alright.”

Phil nods back at her, eyes still glued to his chewed-down nails.

There’s a voice, and surely words are said, but Phil doesn’t retain any of it. He feels a familiar stirring of anger and does his best to ignore it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, genuine. He looks at her mouth to try and really see the words that she’s trying to say. He knows that they’re important, knows that they can’t move forward with this until he hears them. “Can you repeat that? I didn’t…”

He trails off, but Robin smiles encouragingly anyway. “Of course I can, Phil. If I ever say anything that you need me to repeat or if I’m moving too quickly for you, just let me know. And always remember that interrupting me is totally fine, I don’t mind. You’re the one in control here.”

“Thank you.”

Phil kind of wants to make a joke about her interruption rule and Dan, but despite Robin’s assurance of control, he’s not sure that he’d be allowed to. He’s still working through that thought process when he realises that her mouth has stopped moving again and she’s watching him so carefully.

It’s hard not to jump to immediate anger and embarrassment, but Phil swallows those down with his pride and says, “I’m really, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… understand again.”

Robin hums and opens her notebook. For a heart-stopping couple of seconds, Phil is convinced that she’s writing horrible things about him for her colleagues to read later. Of course, that doesn’t happen - the things that Phil’s anxiety convinces him of rarely do - and instead, she simply hands him a ripped-out page. It takes a couple of tries for Phil’s head to stop swimming before he can actually read it.

“That’s our confidentiality clause,” Robin says easily. “Take as much time as you need to absorb it, and then let me know if you have any questions.”

There’s a lump in Phil’s throat at the kind gesture, and he has to take a deep breath before he can focus on the words. He’s never been to therapy before, but nothing about the confidentiality part of it is surprising to him. He can understand, at least, why they have to go over it, and he’s grateful that it’s in plain words for him.

“I don’t have any questions,” he says. He holds the paper out, but Robin shakes her head.

“You can keep that, if you’d like.”

Robin doesn’t say in case you forget again or because you need it. Phil folds the paper into one of Dan’s jacket pockets.

“There’s not a clock in here,” Phil notices. He’d wanted to see how long it took him to absorb such simple information, but it’s kind of a relief not to be able to find one. “I don’t really like clocks.”

“Neither do I,” Robin says, and he thinks she’s just trying to relate to him until she shudders and adds, “They remind me of exams, you know? And watching it tick down gives me some anxiety.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“I keep time on my phone,” she explains, tapping a short fingernail against the back of her phone case. “A quiet beep is going to go off every fifteen minutes so that we both have a better structure of the hour we have together. If that bothers you, I have other methods of timekeeping that don’t involve watching a second hand tick down.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” Phil says honestly. Robin smiles at him in an encouraging sort of way, but he doesn’t have anything he wants to add.

The beat of quiet is left on purpose, he’s sure, before Robin speaks again. “Alright, Phil, let’s get to know each other a little bit. I’d also like to hear what you’re looking to get out of this experience, since I understand the goal here is to be referred to someone permanently?”

Phil doesn’t know about ‘permanently’. He nods anyway.

“Yeah, I think… I thought it would be helpful to see you, since you’re,” he says, and then he can’t figure out how he wants to end the sentence. Since she knows him already, sort of, and knows the situation, and because Dan trusts her and Phil trusts Dan. He decides to finish his thought instead of bothering to find the right words. He’s sure that Robin is smart enough to fill in some blanks herself. “But I know it would be weird for Dan if I kept seeing you. He didn’t say it would be weird, but. It would be. I figured this would be a good…”

He trails off again, twiddling his thumbs, and this time Robin makes a suggestion. “Stepping stone?”

“Yeah, kind of. Is that bad?”

“Nothing you say is bad,” Robin says, almost as if it’s knee-jerk. “I think it’s very telling of how considerate you are, actually. I do a lot of intake for referrals, which you might know or might not, so this isn’t a strange situation for me. I imagine it’s stranger for you.”

Phil laughs. “A little bit, yeah. I don’t really know… what to do.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about yourself,” says Robin. She closes the notebook and sets it aside, absent-minded body language that already makes Phil feel more comfortable. It feels less like he’s being analyzed when there isn’t the chance of her scribbling down things he says.

“You already know a lot about me, though. Probably more than I do.”

“I think,” Robin says, and then takes a moment to think before she continues. “I think, Phil, that you’ve had enough people telling you who you are. I want to know who you think you are.”

Another lump in his throat. Phil swallows hard and looks at the fern in the corner, because that’s easier than looking Robin in the eye. There are a lot of things he could say about his sense of who he is and about how it’s felt to be told about himself for the past few months, but all of it feels too personal. He knows that’s what he’s here to do, to talk about his feelings, but that doesn’t mean he’s comfortable with it.

“I’m Phil,” he tells the plant. “I like Buffy and making videos and I really want a dog but I have to buy a house first.”

--

Fatigue. It’s impossible to tell if it’s a symptom or a deep-seated desire to keep Dan in bed longer when Phil has a hard time waking up on Christmas morning. He presses his weight against Dan and nuzzles into his sensitive neck and pretends like he’s not on the verge of falling back asleep at any moment.

Reduced concentration span. Phil has to look at the first couple pages of the scrapbook a few times before it really sinks in. Even then, he still can’t focus on the words. He understands what he’s looking at, sees the Skype usernames and the timestamps from 2009 and his own familiar use of emoticons, but he can’t actually read it right now. He’s too overwhelmed by the gesture. Overwhelmed, too, by how gorgeous Dan looks in his long shirt and bunny slippers and curls an absolute mess and dimples so deep that Phil wants to poke at them. He can’t help but launch himself at Dan in a move that feels, somehow, familiar.

Impulsiveness. Phil might not be an expert on picking presents for his friends or family members anymore, but he knows Dan now. Dan’s fingers are shaky as they flatten out the flight confirmations, and his voice is even shakier when he says, “Tokyo?”

There’s a list of symptoms on their fridge. For the first time since it was put there, Phil doesn’t feel like he’s under a microscope. It’s a good Christmas.

[fishandchipsandvinegar]

* Header art by @shadowravin

This month I was fortunate to participate in a massive podfic challenge called @voiceteam​ on Discord, and was a part of Team Orange-You-Glad-I-Saved-This-Braincell.

TEAM BRAINCELL TOP 12 PODFICS (and other audio fanworks)

If you would like to hear the best of our work, you can listen to a highlights reel here.

12. In Which We Properly Sort Water Into It's Hogwart's House, and other Such Things by Team Braincell

Type: Oral not!fic Featuring: @mayonnaisetoffees​, @omg-elledubs-things​, @romansuzume​, @jetainia​, @oakleaffic​, @shadowravin, @sunlightsymphony​, and @fishandchipsandvinegar​ Fandom: Water Ship: Many, Many Things/Water Rating: Explicit Length: 36:21

While this oral not!fic entertains the idea of water having its own fandom, it did birth all of our “Water Fandom” content on AO3. It seems cracky, but this not!fic is actually a really funny listen if you’re looking to kill a bit of time. And we think the Water Fandom is really going to take off. Even if we have to single handedly do it:

11. The Influences of Ourselves by @jetainia​

Type: Podfic Read By: @jetainia​ Fandom: Water and Harry Potter Crossover Ship: The Black Lake/The Giant Squid Rating: Mature Length: 2:00

This requires some context of the “Water Fandom” mentioned above as it is one of the fanworks created for it. It’s the story of The Black Lake and the Giant Squid and is actually really beautiful.

10. What Do You Do As A Fallen Angel by @fishandchipsandvinegar​, @thegay-uillotine​, and @oakleaffic​

Type: Filk Sung By: Team Braincell, and various Voiceteam contributors Fandom: Good Omens Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: Teen Length: 8:02

It’s Crowley’s adventures sung to the tune of Drunken Sailor. What’s not to love? Alright, so it’s a little all over, but it just adds to the genuineness of it being a folk song. Brace yourself for the “Hail The Great Beasts.”

9. A Mice Day by @doublel27​

Type: Podfic Read By: @sunlightsymphony​ Fandom: Schitt’s Creek Ship: Patrick/David Rating: General Length: 9:32

I don’t know if it’s just that @sunlightsymphony​ has the perfect voice for fluff or what? But something about this keeps me coming back. It’s cute and light and silly and overall, a good listen.

8. Dumbass (With Love) by @anxiousoddish​

Type: Podfic Read By: @mayonnaisetoffees​ Fandom: Team StarKid Ship: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins Rating: Teen Length: 18:03

I’m not even in this fandom and I’ve listened to this more times than I care to admit. Despite this actually being a somewhat serious fic, @mayonnaisetoffees​ keeps this light and funny all the way through. It carries, even if you aren’t in the fandom.

7. If The Heavens Ever Did Speak by @captaingondolin​

Type: Podfic Read By: @captaingondolin​ Fandom: Shakespeare RPF and Historical RPF Ship: Shakespeare/Marlowe Rating: Teen Length: 12:53

Yes I’ve also listened to this more times than I care to admit. This podfic is singlehandedly dragging me into the Shakespeare/Marlowe ship, and yes, there’s exactly as many dick jokes as you’d expect.

6. How The Thought of You Does Things to Me by @romansuzume​

Type: Podfic Read By: @romansuzume​ Fandom: Marvellous Mrs. Maisel Ship: Lenny Bruce/Miriam "Midge" Maisel Rating: Teen Length: 19:14

This isn’t the ship I think I’d pick from the show, but I’m here for any Mrs. Maisel content. Gingermaggie’s write and read is the balance of levity and gravity that encompasses Mrs. Maisel.

5. Stories That I Used to Know by @omg-elledubs-things​

Type: Filk Sung By: @omg-elledubs-things​ Fandom: Archive of Our Own Ship: None Rating: General Length: 4:03

Okay, this is just still stuck in my head and I feel a little called out. It’s a lot of fun and the recording is great!

4. Bang by @stars-inthe-sky​

Type: Podfic Read By: @liquidlyrium and @shadowravin Fandom: MCU Ship: Natasha/Bucky Rating: General Length: 2:27

Ravin and Liquid Lyrium’s performances of this are so perfect, it feels like more than a podfic. It will have you laughing from start to finish.

3. I AM GROOT by sherlocksmyth on AO3

Type: Podfic? (Read: Abomination) Created By: @mayonnaisetoffees​ and @fishandchipsandvinegar​ Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Ship: Just Groot Rating: Explicit (but it’s safe for work, we promise) Length: 11:45

Ah yes, the thing that sent us down the road to madness. This is ridiculous and will make you laugh. It’s an “explicit” Groot fic, but I promise it is safe for work.

It’s what happens when you decide you can make a podfic using only clips from songs and videos of Vin Diesel reading his lines.

2. The Devil’s Cut/The Angel’s Share by @racketghost

Type: Podfic Read By: @liquidlyrium Fandom: Good Omens Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley Rating: Explicit Length: 40:00

Liquid Lyrium put their heart and soul into this and it shows. The read is breathtaking and the pacing is perfect.

1. The Great Miserables Bake Off by @kjack89

Type: Podfic Read By: @oakleaffic, @sammysidle, @christchex, @thegay-uillotine, @jetainia, @fishandchipsandvinegar, @mayonnaisetoffees, @rindle, @sunlightsymphony, @shadowravin, @captaingondolin Fandom: Les Miserables Ship: Enjolras/Grantaire, Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Cosette/Marius Rating: General Length: 52:02

This is I think the biggest multivoice production I’ve ever listened to. It was incredible that we were able to get all of the voices and the script style made it all come together just like an actual episode of Bake Off, complete with dramatic music.

Everyone did an incredible job, but things to listen for: @mayonnaisetoffees and @jetainia as Enjolras and Grantaire played perfectly off of each other despite the fact that they were recording in completely opposite time zones.

@sunlightsymphony nailed Marius’ constant state of worry, and @oakleaffic nailed the perfect balance to all our drama with a well-rounded narration role.

It was one of the first things we all did together but I think it also stands out as maybe our best project. So it gets the #1 slot.

Thanks for Listening!

(you can see the rest of Team Braincell’s Podfics here)