#tumblr still only tracks the first 5 tags right

[hashtagloveloses]

hi hashtagloveloses,

I'm a new user and saw your post about reblogs. Is there anything else I should pay attention to? Could you tell me if there is a post or guide or something I can consult on how tumblr works? I'm still getting really lost here and have trouble finding anything.

there’s actually an official staff blog with a bunch of good tips called @tips everybody should know about! but off the top of my head also:

1) make sure you have a profile photo. you don’t need a cover photo you can even just turn that off in your blog settings. this is to make sure people don’t think you’re a bot

2) have a different username here than you have other places and don’t share personal information of any kind here (huge mistake i made….). despite what some people say you do not need to share anything about ur sexuality, pronouns, diagnoses, opinions, etc. frankly if i could advise my younger self, i’d say just don’t make original posts or comments at all (if u wanna make commentary in reblog tags maybe?). use a diary or a journal instead of original posts about yourself or your opinions or comments on others’ posts. even if you delete your blog or change your username, the reblogs of things you say live on here forever.

4) reblog instead of like, and tag posts with what they’re about when you post and reblog (this is something i don’t do as much as i should bc im often on mobile and don’t feel like it and only do it for original posts). at least make sure you’re tagging for common content warnings and spoilers. don’t censor words in posts or tags if you’re trying to tag, bc that breaks people’s mute/blocklists. DO censor words/tags if you’re talking about something you don’t want to clog the tag for or attract attention to or something.

5) if you personally want to keep track of original posts, asks, and queued posts, create tags you use for each of those and on mobile manually tag with them every time you do one of those posts, and on desktop you can have an extension do it. in your blog settings you can make like your original post tag one of your “featured tags” if you want easy access, or other people to be able to see, which just means when they hit the search bar on your blog it’s suggested.

6) make sure you go to your dashboard settings and turn OFF “best things first”. i keep on the other algorithmic stuff like showing stuff based on likes as well, and i flip between the various feeds, but most of what you should be doing is following blogs that post or reblog what you like, following the TAGS of things you like, and those will appear chronologically in your regular dash “following” feed.

7) freely block, unfollow, and filter/mute people and topics. do not feel like you have any obligation to anyone. curate your experience on here.

8) turn off submissions on your blog, and turn off anon asks or even asks all together if you don’t want them. you are not obligated to answer every ask or even have an open ask box. you should also take a look at your settings for private messages and replies to set them to what you’re comfortable with.

9) how i use notifications is different than a lot of ppl bc i get a LOT of them but explore how the Activity and notifications page works to your favor, but turn off push notifs and as much as you can. followers, likes, etc, do not matter that much here if you’re not trying to build a following for art or something and you shouldn’t pay attention to it other than just for fun.

10) learn what T*RF, SW*RF, and white supremacist dogwhistles are and how to spot them bc they can still be prevalent on here and you may not realize. a lot of seemingly normal posts about feminism on here can be crypto t*rf shit so you need to learn how to spot it. (those kinds of posts spread to a lot of platforms and people don’t realize….)

11) do not get into discourse on here. of any kind. even if you’re right. some idiot will drain the life out of you arguing with you and people get weird. you’re not gonna convince people online of anything in a discourse fight most of the time and you will only come out of it drained or harassed yourself (frankly this is good advice for anywhere and sometimes even i slip up). in general even on here where engagement is not encouraged as much, every platform has engagement bait and discourse either purposely seeded to piss you off, or if it’s not on purpose it’s still pushed by algorithms.

12) for things like news, etc, this is general online advice but make sure you’re practicing basic media literacy to check how real a headline or a video or something is. what’s the source? how old is it? did they provide sources? etc

13) DO NOT REPOST ART. EITHER FROM HERE OR FROM OTHER WEBSITES. unless the artist says you can repost it (and you need to do so with credit, and look and see if they need to give permission). do not REBLOG reposted art either. you may find it in tags sometimes. do not encourage that behavior.

14) to that same end, do not post AI bullshit here. chatGPT, character AI, voiceover deepfakes, AI videos, etc. don’t do or support those in general but don’t post that shit here

15) in general, and this is something i try to tell people on EVERY platform, remember that what you see people discussing online is often a small minority of what most people think or feel. it may FEEL like everyone is talking about a certain thing, or fighting about a certain thing, but it does not represent the whole. there’s so many discourses where people are like “why do x always say y” and i’m like well they don’t. the very online segment of x often say y bc it gets engagement or bc they are very loud. (this isn’t the case for everything but it happens often for very stupid topics). this isn’t to dismiss important conversations had online by a minority of people that aren’t being discussed wider enough either - bc that also does happen. but that is often for things that are more important than like, the same movie sex scene discourse i see on twitter every 2 weeks.

16) don’t feel any obligation to your “followers”. you are not an influencer you are just here having fun, and your followers follow for the things you reblog, not for you. be FREE.

17) on desktop browser, get the XKit Rewritten extension and go wild with the settings. its a really nice tool and has a lot of good features, like the quick reblog and queue features that give you those auto tags and stuff. (also if you aren’t already using Ublock Origin extension as your adblocker on desktop, get that too).

18) if you have an iphone, apple store limits what they can show you within the app, so if you want to look at more NSFW, the mobile browser version of tumblr is quite decent. but also go to your blog settings on desktop and make sure your settings of what it is showing you on your dash include sensitive content (even if you set it to have a filter over it at first), bc it sometimes autoflags random shit as “sensitive”. also play with your dashboard filters with tags for nsfw content to your comfort - it wont remove it it’ll just put a thing over it so it doesn’t pop up in public accidentally before you click to look at it.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 23-24-25

Advance warning, the wizard cuts a little bit loose here. Tagged for some fantasy violence.

I'm aware the links to the back chapters are borked up, but it's nearly midnight right now and I just finished uploading everything to the queue. I'll try to fix them between Thursday and Friday.

AO3 Link

Buy me a Ko-fi?

Remember: Tumblr has no algorithm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42

Keep reading

TWENTY THREE

I think no one expected to get together that night and count nothing but wins. But no one was hurt and our knowledge of the situation had grown by leaps and bounds - at least, that was what Ford claimed.

"I'm not happy that you all have Dresden working on the side," he told the room, throwing me a quick look.

I put a hand up; I really didn't mind. I was still trying to digest the truth both Eliot and Hardison had offered me. I'd done my job, and I'd done it well, and with their help I'd done it so quick I was still trying to get used to the fact that both cases were done, had been done nearly as soon as they'd been picked up. But the technology Hardison had used just wasn't something I could ever, would ever, have permanent access to. On the other hand, my expertise, my knowledge, everything I knew about magic and the creatures of that world, was information to be found in no database, no internet search. It was maddening.

"But it's done, so we move on to the auction. Odds are both our targets, as well as the mark, are going to be there: the lady, the portrait and the man in black."

The last bit seemed to startle the night's guest, who'd been lounging sedately on a brand-new couch near mine while nursing a vodka neat. Ford had introduced him as the client. He'd introduced himself as Vanya Fedorov. His accent had introduced him as part of the Russian mafia. Mouse had lifted his head from the moment the man had walked into the loft, and he'd never once looked away. Between him and my dog, I was getting more than a little nervous.

"Nate, there's a problem with the auction," Hardison pointed out as he rejoined us around the coffee table with its sharpie'd circle and anti-tracking ward, as well as a few other newly added protections. He'd left his phone behind by the row of desks after sorting out the delivery of the selkie skins, and he gestured at me.

"Most of the people attending aren't human," I informed the room.

Fedorov's drink paused on the way to his mouth. "My uncle is a hard man," he said levelly. "But his first loyalty is to our business. He knows I am good for it. He would not betray me."

"I don't think he has," Sophie replied. "The bird-woman, the -"

"Alkonost," he supplied.

"She wasn't there to harm you. She was there to protect you."

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this gorgeous woman had decided, on the fly, to bluff one of the most powerful creatures of Russian lore, and she'd stuck the landing. God but I could only hope Ford knew how lucky he was.

"We were immune thanks to Harry," Sophie pointed out, "but you weren't affected at all. She did come looking for you, but to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" he demanded restlessly.

"The man in black?" Eliot suggested.

"He doesn't want Fedorov hurt." Ford said mildly. I was beginning to recognize that tone as a warning signal. "He very nearly derailed one plan already for you," he told the Russian.

"For me?"

"The museum!" Parker exclaimed in sudden realization.

Nate nodded, then looked at Fedorov. "You made plans to go visit the Sokolov collection. Made them in advance. I had a look at your electronic ledger. You did have plans - for the day after, the last day of the exhibition."

"I did," the Russian admitted readily.

"You changed those plans when someone told you we were there."

Fedorov grinned ruefully. "I thought to press my case and enjoy Sokolov's work. Two birds with one stone. It seemed efficient at the time."

Nate nodded thoughtfully. "See, I was wondering about that. Because our presence there wasn't really important enough to merit derailing anyone's plans. It was you. When he came up to the room, it was to make sure you were there and he had to cancel the plan. You weren't supposed to be there that day."

"But then he did come up, and saw Grandmother," Sophie pointed out. "And getting her was worth more than protecting you."

"Mm," Nate nodded. "It was a rush job; the sort of rush job that happens when someone first says 'go', then 'stop', then 'go' again, and tempers are getting frayed, the timeline is off, everything just this much out of whack…" He waved a hand at us all. "You know the sort."

I did know the sort; I couldn't help but be amused that, from the look on their faces, so did the rest of the Leverage team.

"Explains why the guy was still there fiddling with the system when I got there," Eliot muttered. "He was waiting to put the Witchwell back in place. That's why the nitrogen tank was attached, but still closed."

"How do you know all this?" Fedorov demanded.

"The cameras," Ford replied. "Our… consultant pointed out that it's only the presence of beings like the man in black that blows up technology, and Hardison has created a number of failsafes so we can tell when a screen is about to fail. Turns out you can track someone by their absence nearly as much as by their presence."

The Russian took all of this in slowly, carefully, and finally frowned minutely. "I don't think I care for the Blackbird's interest in me. Or my family. Or my business."

Ford said nothing, but I could see in his face that he was holding back. I risked a glance at the other deadly intelligence in the room. Sophie was looking at the mastermind very closely. She caught my eyes and shook her head tinily.

I said nothing. I had just noticed that, behind Sophie, Parker was frowning, staring at nothing. Apparently Ford was contagious.

"I think your uncle's loyalties are a matter between you and him. For what it's worth, I believe he honestly thinks meeting with these people will help you take over from your father."

"By binding the family to these creatures." Fedorov scoffed. "What do they know of the family business?"

I didn't need to see the look Ford shot me to recognize a cue when I heard one. I picked up the printed photographs next to me on the couch and started handing them out one by one. "The lovely lady in white? Fey. Specializes in erasing evidence. The man next to her in red? Also fey. Specializes in erasing memories." Another picture. "Fat toad-looking man? He's actually a toad. His people love toxic waste. If someone gets a contract with them, they'll never see another fine for dumping again. The gorgeous thing next to him might be the deadliest we've identified so far. She's from Bangkok. Jade Court. Vampire. Human trafficking. This one? I'm not sure, but gosh, things sure do seem to catch on fire whenever he's around, mostly out at sea. Mostly when they're well-insured."

Between Hardison and me, while the 3D printer churned away and I stuck mirror-masks to everything it was spitting out, we'd sifted through enough information to identify thirteen of the twenty four people who we knew were going to the auction. It had been risky, using Koschei's invite to create a resonance spell that would let me find where the other invites were, but God it had paid off so well. We'd done weeks, maybe months of footwork in one long afternoon and half an evening.

It was enough to impress Fedorov - and to worry him. "No. I will not deal with these creatures. They are no better than the Blackbird, and if he's involved then each of them is a trap."

"I'm not telling you this to impress you," I corrected him. "I'm telling you to warn you. They might wanna make it look like you have no choice but to agree with whatever they say. You need to be prepared."

Fedorov took the stack of printouts and stared sightlessly at them. He looked oddly familiar at that moment, as if a touch of deja vu had come at me out of nowhere; he looked like something out of antiquity, like one of the paintings I'd seen in Hardison's screens while he studied Sokolov's work. "Can they die?" he asked.

Ooops, nope, we were back in mafia mentality. "Depends what you shoot them with. And in some cases, where."

"Then I believe you and I should speak, wizard." He shook his head and gestured impatiently. "He just stole the damn portrait. Why is he turning around and selling it already?"

"Because after the auction he won't need it anymore. Or at least that's what he thought, until he met Parker and she stole his key, and all of those." He waved a hand idly at the table's worth of knick-knacks. "So between now and the end of the auction he has to get that key back. You," Nate told Fedorov, "are going to trade it for the portrait. Make sure to tell them that when you RSVP."

"You are sending me into a den of monsters alone, Ford," Fedorov gritted out. "If you want me dead have the decency of doing it yourself."

"Not alone, no. You're bringing Sophie with you. If Dresden can get the tracker off of the other invitation we have, we'll even send Eliot in with you. And we will all be nearby to provide support. We don't want another 'situation', Fedorov, no one wants that."

Fedorov eyed Eliot, who shrugged calmly. He eyed Sophie, who smiled at him. "No offense," he told Eliot, "but I will feel safer with her."

Eliot beamed at the man. "None taken."

I had to agree with both of them, honestly.

"What about Grandmother?"

"She'll be there," Ford assured him. It was the only part of the plan I didn't like, because Ford had no explanation, no reason as to why he believed Baba Yaga would show up at the auction when Koschei was sure to be there. Last I'd checked, and from all Bob had taught me, those two were not on speaking terms, and got along about as well as fire and gasoline.

Fedorov looked thoughtful. "Wizard."

Oh, I did not like where this was going. "Uh."

"Since you are taking jobs on the side, will you take one more?"

"Uh." I looked at Ford, but he said nothing. He was giving me a keen, level look. I liked that even less. "That depends on the job."

Fedorov grinned at me. "He has tried too many times to harm Grandmother. Perhaps to kill her outright. I don't know if this is possible, if he can do this thing. I know he's trying, and I do not like it. I will pay whatever you ask, wizard. If you're there and do your best to protect her."

I felt as if the silence in the room were crushing me. "You want me to protect Baba Yaga."

"You are what I have."

"This is Baba Yaga. Grandmother Winter. Close to a living god as it gets. Not to mention I've already met the Blackbird. He won both times, in case you weren't listening."

"Did he? You walked away and he did not follow. Twice. The way I see it, you won the only victory that matters."

I wanted to scream. To walk away. I would have laughed in Fedorov's face but the truth was, I was scared. He was asking me to stand between what I saw as an unstoppable force and an immovable object. However, and I hated that he was right, but he uh. He was right. I'd stood up to Koschei twice, and I'd walked away both times. Either the man sucked at killing people, and I knew that wasn't true, or I was doing something right. I just didn't know what.

I felt as trapped as Fedorov did, but I could also see his reasoning. Koschei was an asshole. An unparalleled one. No one disagreed on that. But Baba Yaga, even if she was mercurial, alien, inhuman, still cared about the land and the people in a way her pupil didn't. If there was a line on the sand, I knew which side I was on. "I'll do what I can," I couldn't make the words come out civil, but at least I could make them come out.

Fedorov nodded at me. "In that case," he grinned minutely, leaned forward and picked up one of the chicken bones and the little carved wooden cup from among the many knick-knacks on the table and dropped the one inside the other. The bone let out a little rattle. "Let me tell you a fairy tale about Koschei and Grandmother."

TWENTY FOUR

The leshy came back that night, and they brought friends once again.

I was dead asleep in spite of every thought and worry wrecking chaos in my mind. I was worried, and I was pretty sure I had a right to be. We were about to throw a bluff in the face of some of the deadliest, smartest monsters ever to come out of the Nevernever, Leverage also wanted to steal from them at the same time. There was just so much going on that I'd given up trying to keep track of it all, and resigned myself to doing my part of it and never figuring out what, other that stealing, these people did.

Mouse's low growl woke me up as if someone had punched me. He'd been asleep at the foot of the bed, which was big enough for five of me or two of him, and when he stood up I could see his ruff standing up on end, outlined against the faint light coming in through the window. I sat up just in time to hear a muffled yowl of pain, and the creak of the door swinging open.

They'd found me. Of everything we'd picked up, all the trinkets, all the traps, I was still the easiest source of magic to find. I just hadn't known if they'd be willing to gamble that Koschei's stuff would be with me and not in a vault somewhere, or with the Leverage people.

The house had no lintel to speak of, no doorway. It was a safehouse, a fancy storage unit where I'd spent two nights. I'm sure the leshy had expected some trouble getting through the door, but I already knew they had humans in the roster, and humans could pick a lock or break a window, slip inside and invite the leshy in. There wasn't enough of a presence in the house, mine or otherwise, to kick up a passive defense out of habitation alone.

Which was why Eliot had lined every doorway and windowsill with iron nails.

Another muffled yowl and I was quietly on my feet, reaching for my shirt and my duster. There were a few traps between the leshy and what they sought, but once again I was counting mainly on them not being able to use magic to find the stuff. I drew a deep breath, stepped back from the bed, called Mouse to me, and flicked a throw blanket on the bed.

I'm not good at Veils. I know people who can hide entire stadiums worth of people, sight, sound, scent, every sense. Me, I was counting on it being dark so that when the leshy came up, as they must, it would look like I was still asleep on the bed. It didn't make sense for them to risk waking me up while they tore the place apart, which they'd likely do. Not to mention they could always ask me where everything was, and provide all sorts of incentives for me to tell them.

I managed to get my sneakers on before I heard the stairwell creak minutely. I fell back into the shadows of the closet, Mouse by my side, staff on one hand and wand on the other, and waited.

The door to my bedroom opened very slowly. The same dim, reflected streetlight glow that had shone on Mouse showed me the paw-like hand of a leshy as it stepped forward, sniffing the still air in the room. Its eyes locked onto the bed and it moved forward with a little more confidence. It cleared the door and another one came in behind it. They moved to flank the bed. A third one came in.

The moment it was clear of the door I surged forward, slammed the door shut, and pointed my staff at it. "Forzare."

It might have come out a little angry. I was getting real tired of leshy, to be fair. The blast of force threw the leshy through the window in a shower of glass and wood; it screamed as it went, the iron nails on the windowsill scraping it raw.

Mouse flew at another leshy with a snarl. Its nature betrayed it; not only was my dog very big and fairly terrifying despite his youth, leshy were creatures of the field, their nature very close to rabbits, to hares, to moles. It shrieked in immediate terror and went down, scrabbling and writhing, all the fight gone from it, wanting only to get away from its natural predator.

The last one didn't stop to think. It leapt up and kicked me in the chest. I went through the bedroom door like the old oak wasn't even there. The pain was immediate, immense, blinding. Next thing I knew I was on my knees out on the hallway, and I couldn't breathe. I'd be lucky if nothing was broken. Leshy kick like the hares they look like, and the fairy-thug's reaction had been so quick I'd had no time to summon my shield.

Mouse was barking furiously in the bedroom; I couldn't get wits or breath enough to get back on my feet, but I had just enough of them to see motion coming up the stairs. I swung my wand around and let a stream of fire blaze out. The figure in front shrilled inhumanly; behind it, someone cursed entirely too humanly.

I had to get up. I had to move. I was easy prey if I didn't. I got one leg under me just in time for one panicked leshy to come sprinting out of my bedroom, and we both went down in a tangle. It tried to bite my face, and I just barely put an arm up. Its teeth caught it, but couldn't quite punch through the duster's defenses. It didn't feel like roses, though, and someone let out a very undignified howl of pain. Couldn't have been me.

I'd lost my wand when we'd gone down, and I didn't have enough room to bring my staff to bear, so I let go of it, put my free hand on the leshy's face, and let go with all the electricity I'd collected the past day. I didn't have the breath to call it - the words aren't part of the magic as much as an exercise in focus, a visualization aid. I could throw everything around without them, but I'd been using the word to try not to get zapped myself. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

Electric fire lit up the leshy's skull from within, made its ears stand up on end; it rolled down my hand and up my arm, but I was far more interested in the fairy-thug not getting another bite in. Fortunately, it crashed down limp on top of me, smoking faintly.

I shoved it aside and groped around for my staff. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I threw my shield up instinctively.

A net crashed over it and came to rest on the gleaming half-bubble, and I was in trouble. The net had magic, unknown magic, probably meant to counter mine. I couldn't let go of the shield without getting caught in the net. I couldn't do magic without dropping the shield. The hallway was narrow, and they couldn't get to me any more than I could get to them, but that left them free to tear my house apart.

Which was apparently the going plan. The leshy I'd singed on the stairwell called out something to the human behind it, who shouted in Russian down the stairs. I heard the door to one of the rooms slam open, and a crowbar start work on the crates.

I forced myself to draw a deep breath. Mouse was still engaged with the last fairy-thug in the bedroom. My ribs were still screaming. My lungs had mostly forgotten how to work. But I needed that breath, I needed the focus of it.

At the peak of it, I dropped to a crouch, dropped the shield and called out, "Ventus!" more or less at the same time.

Have I mentioned I'm a hammer when it comes to magic?

Wind roared out, coming out of me in every direction. It threw the net for parts unknown, it sent the people on the stairwell flying back, stumbling down the steps with startled squawks and something that sounded very much like cursing. I wouldn't know, I don't speak Russian. I found my wand under my foot, lifted my staff and for good measure threw a second gout of wind down the stairwell. "Mouse!"

He came charging out of the room. I peeked in. The leshy was crawling away for the gaping hole in the wall that had been a window, both legs a ruin of greenish blood. I closed what was left of the door between it and us and began to inch my way down the stairs.

There was a hissed, angry argument going on at the bottom of the stairs, probably wondering if I was worth the trouble. Oh, I was not. So many people could've told the thugs, I'm very much not worth the trouble. I'm a burr, and at that point I was an angry burr, and to compound their misery I was an angry burr that could do magic.

Someone shouted a warning in the dark of the first floor. I threw my shield up.

Three bullets bounced off it, along with a shower of sparks. Oh, ok. Uh. I hadn't expected them to decide I was that kind of trouble. Hell's Bells. Boston had powered up my shield, but I'd apparently finally hit on the limit of what the damaged bracelet could do. If it hadn't been made to hold back more mundane threats as well as magic, I would have been very much in trouble.

I could see, vaguely, four of them gathered in what was supposed to be the living room. I was pretty sure there was at least one more crashing and wrecking one of the rooms. I saw one of them grab and yank at another, and some tiny part of me was glad to know the leshy themselves didn't want me shot, but that didn't mean one of their number, likely one of their human buddies, didn't have a gun he was entirely too willing to use. I had to finish this quick, before someone else got trigger-happy.

I dropped the shield. Mouse leapt the moment it was gone, with a snarl like a roar. I love my dog. I know my dog. At that moment I was absolutely terrified of my dog.

So were the thugs. I slammed the butt of my staff on the ground before any of them could get any ideas. "Forzare!" The shockwave sent two of them tumbling - the humans. The leshy tottered, but managed to stay upright. One of them immediately went down with a panicked screech when Mouse slammed into it.

The other twisted one hand sharply and threw something at me that glittered in the dark. I threw my shield up automatically.

The night's breath powder settled on it and began to burn.

I heard a howl, realized belatedly that it was mine; my shield-bracelet had gone instantly white-hot while it tried to defend against the very thing that was attacking it. I dropped the shield, felt the poison sink into my magic. The leshy charged me, as aware as I was that I couldn't throw magic around wildly anymore; I could very well run out of energy mid-fight.

So I swung the staff at it as hard as I could.

The impact drove it into the wall and it staggered back, dazed. I stepped into its space and punched it. Hey, it worked for Eliot. It went down on its knees with a cry.

But the two human thugs were getting up, and one was lifting his arm in a familiar fashion. I couldn't gamble, I called up my shield, gritting my teeth against the pain. The goon slammed the taser into it, electricity arcing from it over the roiling surface of the half-bubble.

I put my hand out, the one with the wire bracelet, dropped the shield and called the electricity to me. It burned down my already singed fingers, and into the bracelet, and I threw it at the other man before he could get it into his head to start shooting again. He made a sound like a broken police siren and crashed down, twitching.

I'd been keeping my eye on the group in front of me and that open bedroom door, but in the middle of the chaos I forgot that leshy are like roaches: there's always more than the ones you see. Something came at me from the kitchen and hit the back of my head. It wasn't even painful; it was just instantaneous darkness; everything shut down. My cheek hit the floor, but I didn't feel it so much as vaguely registered that my perspective on things had changed radically. I heard Mouse snarl, and someone screamed - the natural order of things.

Things went blurry and uncertain for a while. I heard the group talking, and Mouse barking furiously, but I was only aware of it because it was Mouse, and I was worried that they'd hurt him. The night's breath had settled on me like the weight of the world, burning, hissing in a way only I could hear. I felt crushed. I couldn't breathe. My magic felt sluggish and foul, like blood poisoning.

"It's not just the circle, he's got a ward of some sort around them," a man's voice said in English. Someone else spoke in Russian. I was beginning to understand Hardison's comment about learning a language by infection.

"Koldun", a hoarse, gravelly voice said. Something grabbed my face and picked me partially up, talons prickling my cheeks. "Wizard," the leshy said in terrible English. "You hear me?"

"I thought leshy didn't speak." I was trying to get myself in the game, but the night's breath was burning into my bones, my ribs hurt like someone had kicked them out of my chest, and my head was pounding.

The leshy growled - its way of laughing, I realized. It said something to one of the people around. We were in my basement. There were glow-sticks all over, illuminating my work: the brass circle on the concrete floor, closed and holding strong around a small shoebox full of Koschei's knick-knacks. Inside the circle were two more wards: the tracking foil I'd copied from the key, and a little bubble of force, very much like my shield, meant to keep things and people from this side of the Nevernever from getting through.

See, I could learn. I'd remembered that the leshy had been working with humans back at the museum, and I'd been ready.

"He says, 'the world changed, we changed with it'." It was the man who'd shouted a warning earlier, likely the one who'd shot at me. He was wearing all black, the better to be impossible to distinguish from the rest of the group. The leshy growled something at him. "You will dismiss the circle and remove the rest of your protections."

I gritted my teeth. Those talons were like shoe cleats, sharp and solid, and the fairy's grip was incredibly strong. They'd stripped me down to my pants and tee, and I was pretty sure they'd taken off anything that wasn't nailed down. I couldn't even feel the familiar weight of my pendant around my neck. My arms were bound behind me and my shoulder was really unhappy about that. They'd even taken my shoes off. "Bite me."

The leshy growled again and it occurred to me that it probably wasn't a good idea to invite him to do that. It said something a little longer this time. I was trying to figure out if I could use their ignorance to my advantage: the outermost circle was just that, a circle. Any of their human buddies could have made it past it. But because the leshy knew magical circles to be impregnable, they apparently hadn't thought to have the humans try.

"You will dismiss the circle," the translator said. "Or we will shoot your dog."

My lunge was instinctive. And pointless. The leshy stopped me before I could get an inch closer and slammed me back against a wall. It was just hard enough to be painful, but not enough to knock me out again. He even gave me a few minutes to find the wits he'd just send scattering all over with that casual bit of controlled violence.

"I drop the circle, you shoot us both."

The translator spoke. The leshy examined me, head cocked, golden eyes throwing an occasional red gleam when the light hit them just right. He said something long-ish.

"He considered it," the man translated. "But is not worth a death-curse, and you obviously love dog. What assurance can he provide?"

"Lock my dog up in the bathroom. Everyone else waits outside. I'll break the circle for him, and him alone."

"Nyet." The leshy wasn't stupid, though I'd hoped. He spoke at length, the translator asking a couple of questions.

"The dog stays in the net, goes in the bathroom. Three of us stay here. You drop the circle, remove the wards. We take you to the bathroom with your dog. You do not follow."

"I get your gun, you keep the bullets," I added.

That created a brief argument between the man and the leshy, but the translator caved eventually. Not that I didn't think they had a dozen other ways to kill me and Mouse, but the gun was the quickest one.

"And I'll need my hands free."

The leshy didn't wait for the translator. "Use feet."

"Fine."

He dragged me to my feet. Off to one side I could see Mouse, all but wrapped into a net, bound up inside a blanket that had been secured with duct tape. Ah, the net hadn't been for me, it'd been meant for him all along. He snarled, but didn't bark, probably out of pity for my throbbing skull. In the basement the sound would have echoed like thunder. Two humans picked him up warily, and while he tried to snap at them, he couldn't do more than twitch and drool. All but two leshy and the translator followed them out of the basement.

The translator pulled out the gun, removed the clip and the loaded bullet, and I twisted so he could give it to me. He didn't look happy. I made a show of muttering under my breath and calling up some magic. The effort bent me over double and I nearly felt my legs go to jelly. Bile rose up in my throat, and the lead leshy had to hold me up. I had to make it look like I was doing something, though, otherwise the leshy would catch onto my bluff about the circle.

But Boston, ah, Boston. The night's breath couldn't corrode what the city was giving me fast enough. If I could just get away, purge all of the corroded magic, I'd be fine. As it was, I had the power to throw a punch, I just had no way of knowing if it was going to blow up in my face or theirs.

I took a couple of deep breaths, tried again, and scuffed my foot over the circle and the two wards beyond it. And very calmly said, "Ignitum".

The circle broke. The lead leshy gestured the other two forward. The shoebox was plain, empty of anything but the rough dozen or so things Parker and I had got from Koschei. Everything was there, even the feathers and the invitation.

Except for two things.

The leshy grabbed me by the throat. "Key, koldun." He snapped at the translator.

"You are missing things. Where are they?"

"I only agreed to break the circle. It's not my fault if you didn't check your shopping before you paid the bill."

The leshy didn't like that. It slammed me against a wall and snarled. The translator opened its mouth -

The other leshy, who'd managed to grab the box, squealed in pain when something hot dripped down on it, then shrieked, clawing at its shoulder as a sizzling sound and the smell of burning fields began to fill the room. One of the ceiling tiles crashed down.

Everyone looked up. I just grinned at them.

Eliot had set up the trap for me, and he'd honestly had a blast doing so. The basement was bare concrete in every direction; to hide the fact that he was putting iron everywhere he could reach, he'd put up styrofoam ceiling tiles. He'd glued them to the concrete.

He'd laced the glue with iron filings.

Throwing a magical punch? Fifty-fifty. Melting fresh silicone that wasn't even hard yet? Child's play.

The lead leshy barked an order. The translator started for me. While they were both distracted I balanced myself on one foot, lifted the other, and kicked the leshy as hard as I could in the gut. He went sprawling back and crashed down on the floor. I snapped out the word of command. The circle snapped into life and cut him in half.

I dropped to my knees, most of my focus on not throwing up. The rest I channeled into forcing all the corroded magic the night's breath had poisoned out of me. I didn't even bother giving it shape, I just threw it out. It flattened the last two thugs and sent me crashing down on my face, even as I tried to force myself to get up, get to the box, I couldn't let them have the box -

More melted silicone dripped down. The last leshy squalled something that didn't sound nice, and the one human cursed. He came at me, trying to take his gun back. I drew in a deep breath and threw what little clean power Boston had given me in his face as a flash of light. He staggered back, blinded, swearing.

His buddy caught him and they both ran out of the basement, and I was left there, breathing hard, wondering if I should pass out. Or throw up. Or both, maybe. Somewhere above me Mouse was barking fit to bring the house down.

Passing out it was.

TWENTY FIVE

The gunshots woke up the neighbors. The neighbors woke up the cops, who expected to be summoned to such an address to bar brawls or petty theft, not to shots fired in a staid, elderly Boston neighborhood.

The gunshots also roused Nate. He came sprinting down the block to find half a dozen people peering out nervously, each one demonstrating vividly what they considered a safe distance, and none of them agreeing. The mastermind, who knew exactly how far a bullet could travel on kinetic energy alone, never mind inertia, didn't want to think of what would happen if there were more shots. He began taking stock of the problem by waving his phone at three of the people on the street. "Did someone, uh, did someone call the cops?" When the neighbors confirmed, he let out a long breath. "Good, good. Hey, those weren't gunshots, were they?" he asked as he dialed. "Hardison."

The Leverage team roused like a nest of wasps. A Crime Scene van and a two-man team nearly beat the cops to the site; the truck from Animal Control rolled in with them, and the one man joined the two masked people at the door, the cops making a path for them. All three of them winced as they walked in, pausing to yank their earbuds off.

"He's here," Eliot confirmed to the other two as they lit their flashlights, everyone taking a moment to hold their breath and see if they held - which they miraculously did. "You go ahead with the distraction, I'll find him." They had to find Dresden, get him out of the line of fire, and set up something appropriately gunshot-like but wholly accidental before the cops started looking in earnest. At the moment they weren't setting foot in the house, but Leverage could only guess as to why, rather than confirm.

"I need three minutes in the kitchen," Hardison said from behind Parker.

"I need two in his bedroom."

"I think we can buy you that," Eliot assured them.

"We?"

Despite the worry gnawing at him that the wizard had gone and gotten hurt (again), Eliot could only smile faintly. He whet his lips and whistled lightly.

From somewhere in the dark Mouse started barking immediately in response, a sound like thunder. Nate and Sophie, part of the crowd outside, saw every cop wince and twitch away. None of them went for their guns; none of them looked willing to go into the house. The crowd shifted restlessly, and stepped back without being urged to it. They crossed a look, but said nothing.

Parker threw a clean suit and a mask at Eliot and they split up. Alone in the dark, Eliot launched himself to the guest bathroom, just to one side of the stairs. "Harry!" When he got no answer he tried again, just a little louder. "Dresden!" No answer. He sniffed; there was a faint, familiar scent in the air that he couldn't readily place, but which left his gut tightening in anticipation of a punch he couldn't see coming. That, however was immediately set aside when he opened the bathroom door and found Mouse trussed up like a Bolivian hostage. "There you are."

Tied up or not, the Temple dog wagged his tail at him. Eliot started sawing on the duct tape, then paused; there was something sticky on either the ropes of the net or the blanket. Or the dog. Eliot considered shining the light on it, then decided he was better off not knowing. "We need to be quiet," he told Mouse, who whuffed nearly soundlessly at him. "And we need to find Harry, fast."

The moment he was loose, the mastiff sprang up on his feet and charged out of the bathroom. Eliot followed him down the stairs to, where else, the basement. The air was hot and full of the scent of burning plastic. Styrofoam tiles had fallen and shattered, leaving the tidy space a wreck. Eliot smelled rotten candy and recoiled. "Mouse, don't!"

The dog froze, and stepped back, whining.

Eliot knew that smell. He'd only smelled it once before, but sometimes that was all it took. He'd smelled it again, faintly, by the stairs. Rotten candy. Burning licorice. The basement cloyed his senses with it. Someone had come in prepared to take down both wizard and dog, and the hitter gritted his teeth. "Night's breath," he murmured, looked down at the dog. Moused looked up at him, ears perked. "You gonna be alright in there?"

Mouse eased himself gingerly into the basement. Paused. Whuffled.

Eliot followed. "Harry?"

A groan answered him, and he charged in. His boots squished on something very much not blood, but he didn't stop to check what it was. "Harry!"

"I'm gonna be sick," the wizard moaned. Eliot found him slumped in a heap against one side of the basement, tied up very efficiently, looking ashen under the light of the flashlight, Mouse licking his face enthusiastically.

"Place reeks of night's breath, man."

"That was me," Dresden admitted as Eliot worked to free him. "Someone dosed me upstairs. Burned it off here." He let out a vague sound of pain when his hands came loose and he started working feeling into them immediately. "They took the box."

"Who's surprised," Eliot grimaced when he nearly lost his grip on his knife sawing at the ropes around Harry's feet. "What… Why is everything slimy down here?"

"That was me, too," the wizard admitted. "I killed one of the leshy. Things from the Nevernever kinda melt when they die."

"They m- You mean- " Eliot found himself suddenly realizing he was, apparently, wading knee-deep through someone's equivalent of bodily fluids. "You mean we're covered in fairy blood?"

"Blood, guts…" Harry waved a hand to encompass a nebulous whole.

Full of violence as his life was, Eliot definitely had feelings about the situation, and none of them were good. "Damn it, Dresden!" he snapped as he helped the wizard to his feet and dragged him up the stairs.

"It'll evaporate to nothing soon!"

"And what part of 'don't get hurt' didn't you get?"

"You also said 'make it believable'," Harry protested wearily. "And they had humans with them. Again. And the humans had guns so. You know. The night's just been full of surprises."

Eliot hissed a breath out. Of course they would. "Alright. Get dressed." He thrust the clean suit and the mask at Harry. "We're going out the front door."

"Out the - They're gonna notice there's more people going out than came in."

Parker choose that moment to pop up next to them, making them both jump. "I'm not going out the front door." She had Harry's duster on, which made her look even more elfin than she already was, and looked terribly pleased with herself. "I found everything. They had it all stashed together. Amateurs."

Eliot merely imagined strangling the thief. Only a little. Just to soothe his rising temper. "They weren't thieves, Parker." When she gave him a pointed look the hitter realized what he'd said. "Ok, yes, they were thieves, but they weren't here to rob Harry!" Her brows went up. "You know what I mean! Is Hardison done?"

"I'll go check." She turned to look at Harry, and frowned minutely. "Are you hurt?"

"If I answer that, Eliot will get mad at me," he told her as he zipped up the clean suit.

To the hitter's chagrin, she took in that answer solemnly, nodded, and raced off for the kitchen.

"You are hurt," Eliot accused mildly.

"Leshy like to kick."

"Is anything broken?"

"No." Dresden breathed in, deep and very slow. "I don't think so. I'll get back to you on the concussion, though."

"You have a helluva sense of humor for someone I just found hogtied in his own basement."

Eliot saw the wizard grin, hard and bitter. "Eliot, I'm used to going down. I'm also used to waking up in a cell of one kind or another after." He popped the medical mask in place and put up the hood. "This is a distinct improvement."

The hitter had to pause at that. "Harry, don't you have anyone? Anyone that has your back?"

The wizard paused, went very still. "People… don't do so good when they get involved in a wizard's affairs," he admitted slowly, and the burden of pain and guilt and regret in his voice brought Eliot up very short. It had been years since he'd heard such a refined, complex mix of exactly those emotions from someone, but he remembered the day well enough.

He'd been staring in a mirror at the time, and he'd been horribly young.

"And not a lot of people accept that 'men in gray and big swords' trump a lot of the answers they sometimes want out of me."

The hitter caught the wizard's good shoulder. "Harry, for what it's worth," he said evenly. "I know it's hard. I know how it is when you've drawn a line on the sand and no one sees you holding it. Me, I'm here to keep my team safe. Twice, so far, I wasn't there - but you were. And that's enough for me. Thank you."

Dresden blew out a long breath. "Don't suppose you guys want to move to Chicago?"

"No more than you wanna move to Boston." Eliot looked up to see Hardison coming out of the kitchen, passing his backpack to Parker and taking hers in exchange. "Come on. The timing Hardison cooked up is tricky."

They marched out, the Animal Control guy first, leading the friendliest, most gigantic and slobberiest ball of fur out, leaving all the cops vaguely embarrassed that they'd been afraid to step into the house. Mouse hammed it up, tongue lolling to one side and tail wagging cheerfully. The crime scene people cleared out, the cops poured in, and everyone jumped into their respective vehicles.

It took a while to put both the Animal Control pick-up and the Crime Scene van back in place, none the worse for their small adventure, and everyone reconvened back at the loft. Sophie reported that there had been plenty of cops in the kitchen when the same security system that had destroyed the bedroom window interacted badly with an ancient electric board, entombed in the walls. The system had blown the garden door out onto the overgrown grass, and the antique board had gone off like a gun once again. A report had been written; fines would have to be paid. The owner had been summoned, and she'd been most grateful for everyone's prompt response, gracious and elegant even in her concern. Everyone had gone home somewhat disappointed and secretly reassured that life could go back to what it should be: quiet.

While Sophie soothed the mood at the safehouse, Nate came to see Dresden as Eliot, once again, patched up the wizard in the small spare bedroom behind the kitchen. Harry's entire chest was a rising, ugly bruise. When Eliot moved away to wash his hands, he spoke very quietly to the mastermind. "You know, when I said I'd like a job where I wasn't a punching bag, this wasn't what I meant."

"I know." Nate's mouth was pressed to a thin line. It wasn't just the injuries, or the attack. Violence threatened them all, that was just part of the job. But the violence that kept coming at Dresden was unpredictable and far too big for any countermeasures to readily work. "He's getting more hurt than you have in our worst jobs," he murmured quietly at the hitter.

"He's a civilian, Nate."

"So are you," the mastermind pointed out. "But I know what you mean."

"He doesn't have the training, he doesn't have the mental firewalls."

"Can you teach him?"

"In what, two days?!"

Nate gave the hitter a very keen, very level look. "I think he'd be grateful, and better off, with whatever you do give him." He pitched his voice to carry. "Dresden, what did they get?"

"Everything," Harry replied, testing his arm until Eliot flung a sling at him. "Everything but the key and the Witchwell."

"Mm. But he doesn't need those two back nearly as urgently as everything else. Not once Fedorov's offer gets to him. And he already has the portrait, he doesn't need help stealing it."

"He does if the Witchwell's not his and he needs to return it to the proper owner," the wizard pointed out, frowning thoughtfully.

"Does he?"

"He might. I'm guessing," Harry admitted, "but I don't think it's his. It's too modern, it doesn't fit what we know of the guy."

"I agree with Harry," Eliot added.

"So do I," Nate replied. "His reaction at the bagel shop was very telling. But the man in black has to know we can't destroy it, and he has to know it'd be much easier for him to recover it after the auction." He seemed momentarily lost in thought. He was wondering if Koschei would think of the many ways in which the Witchwell could be turned against him; if that potential danger would force him to divert attention and effort to its recovery.

And in three days' time, I will grant you and your people your heart's desire.

"He'll wait. He'll wait until he can simply take it back."

"He could take it back right now," Harry muttered.

"Could he? That's twice you've faced his hired thugs, and twice you've survived, Dresden. Twice you've almost won, until an external factor stepped in. Have a little faith in yourself. From his side, his odds don't look good."

Eliot understood. "He doesn't gamble. When he wins, he likes it to be by overwhelming force."

The mastermind nodded. "And every time Dresden steps in, it doesn't matter what the man in black throws on the field, it never ends up with a clean victory for him. He'll wait. We go on with the con. Get some rest, Dresden. You're no use as a monkeywrench if you're in pieces."

"I live to please, boss," the wizard declared wearily.

[senorablack]

WRONG ANSWERS ONLY TAG What it says on the tin. Made for the creative writer in mind, but anyone could play. Truth welcomed, but keep in mind the sole rule of the game is absurdity. Answer unwisely.

1 - What’s your problem? It all started in the summer of 1990, on a spicy August Wednesday morning. 97's ice skating accident was when my problem truly manifested. I wasn't physically harmed, but was visually assaulted. Threw an all bean chili onto one of the performers outfits because it was god damn ugly. This deep-seated hateration exacerbated with the invention of the Croc in 2002.

2 - Define Fanfiction to an adult who hasn’t heard of it before. It's not smashing a pair of barbies' non-genitals together, but it's not-not smashing a pair of barbies' non-genitals together. People write it mostly to see their favorites rest in ways they desperately want to (i.e. sleeping whilst cuddled up in someones arms, sleeping soundly next to someone who is safe, sleeping after highly aerobic sex, sleeping next to someone who is the opposite of you heat/cold wise, sleeping with no work the next day, sleeping for a week in way that seems like you're not okay but you are just mind your damn business).

3 - What is the next epoch for the human race? Floating stuff. Not enough hovering things yet. I want to live over the ocean and yet.

4 - There’s a big ass lake to cross and there are three boats. Two of them can fit three people. One of them could fit two. There are nine people. How do you get everyone across? Tie the last person to one of them and have them float on their back on the water very, very still until you've all floated across.

5 - How was cheese discovered? Some ancient hindu dude was eating, and got a lil bit of the lemon they were squeezing onto their roti and gravy into their cup of milk. they were like 'damn, bro, that was my milk' but also like, went to go get more milk. but check this out, they forgot it. and when they came back like days later. that shit was all separated. and because they didn't like waste, they spread a little bit it on their lunch. turns out that shit was fire.

6 - What makes a good film or television show? Laugh tracks when there are no intentionally funny scenes.

7 - Tell us what hill(s) you would/will you die on. That bus was right to hit Regina George, but it could have done it in a more tactful way. Also that fucking door had room for Jack too.

8 - What does the person who tagged you do for leisure? Yodeling competitions during the weekends, and on most nights I write black out poetry using @lt right wing news websites.

9 - Who was tumblr created for? The strong, the brave and the neurodivergent. People who wear their wednesday chonies on thursday.

10 - What happens after we die? Hell and heaven aren't single places. Goodness and evil have always existed on a spectrum and so does the place they plop you in once you've shimmied out of your meat suit. They, of course, are a committee of drag queens who rate your outfits, runway walk, and attitude through your living years and place you in a environment you deserve.

11 - How many continents are there and what are their names? Seven continents named: California, North California, Ice California, South-East California, California to the Left, California Down Under, and California: Reloaded.

12 -Who was your favorite side character from Martin Scorsese’s 1973 cult classic, Gonchorov? Sebastian Butterbee - The cafe attendant everyone important told their woes to throughout the film. Turned out that he'd been selling their secrets in exchange for really neat exotic houseplants.

13 - What’s the real way to spell Ashley? Yeah, everyone gets this wrong. It's Azhli.

14 - What do pets do when their human pals aren’t home? They cosplay and host dungeons and dragons night for their pals on the block of course.

15 - Tell us how to survive a tornado. First step is take one for the gram. Second step is drive the fuck out of tornado country. Warn no one because Darwin.

16 - How did you and your closest friends meet? The heist. I was a socialite and budding actress who had a lot of time and money. They wanted some sort of necklace that I couldn't have cared less about but hired me to wear it to the met gala to aide them in their quest. It was neat.

17 - Describe the perfect date. August 1st through 31st.

18 - What are some common mistake(s)/misconception(s) people make/have about you? People assume I'm not listening to them on facetime because I am often looking at myself. But I AM listening. It's called multitasking, beb.

19 - Tell us a secret you’re suppose to keep to your grave. My friend once told me that they truly didn't believe Ohio was a real place.

20 - How tall are you? 14 beer cans or roughly 4.5 of p@nera breads new green goddess caprese melt (/not spon lmao)

21 - Define: swap meet. It's that thing people do after connecting on dating apps.

22 - What’s at the ocean floor? Dead billionaires apparently

23 - Beyoncé once (answer) an entire (answer) during (answer), then went on like it was nothing. ate - crawdad boil - the super bowl half-time show

24 - What do you consider red flags? People who have an aversion to potato dishes (i won't TAG ANYONE BUT COUGH), crocs, and those who cannot merge onto the highway.

25 - If the person who tagged you were to get famous, what would they be known for? Arson - but the first one was an accident and the second was because nobody complimented my hair in 24 hours.

high pressure tags - @normyreedus @greenlikethesea @leatafandom @katiedora @sparklyslug @dallae @tolkientrash @onirislanding @happylilthought @stevethehairington @quarble @quiriusblack @steddielations @melonberri @graveyardlilies @loudsnapdragon @spikeymarshmallows @steviebats

and **anyone** who comes across this who thinks this is silly and neat. please tag me because I'd love to hear how equally unhinged you are. :)

[filesbeorganized]

Cynoglossum Amabile

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Author’s Note - Start: This fic falls under the series My Garden of Love, which is part of the submission for Celebrrration in Tumblr. The accompanying song for this fic collection is “Flowers” by Hadestown.

Celebrrration Day 5 Prompt: Free For All

Warnings/Tags:  Celebrrration submission, flower language, canon typical violence, songfic, TW injuries, TW gun wound, skip the epilogue to practice self care, or just pretend it doesn’t exist

Relationships: Alluri Sitarama Raju/Komuram Bheem, Seetha/Jenny

___

You, the one I left behind.

If you ever walk this way.

Come and find me lying in the bed I made.

___

Surprisingly it took some long time before their mission turned into disaster.

The thing about a team is, a higher number of people in a team means they can attack bigger perimeters, or they can move their bounty faster. But it also means you have to keep track of a much larger amount of headcounts.

Their first mission did not, by all means, go smoothly. First, they found out that even the ‘least guarded’ British warehouse still had plenty of protection. They opted for a more stealthy tactic instead, which brings us to a second problem. Higher headcounts in a team means it’s harder to keep mistakes to a minimum. Halfway through the mission, someone must’ve attracted too much attention because they got found out. Fights broke out but Ram’s Babai decided it would be wiser to retreat early. They did just that, even though that means they only got to bring home half of the rifle they could have taken from that warehouse.

Luckily they didn't suffer much losses. There’s people with injuries here and there, but no life was lost. And despite the fact that their mission got cut short, the men were experiencing their first battle euphoria. Morale was at an all time high. Everywhere he goes, Ram hears people’s buzz of how they’re excited for the next mission.

They recover from that last mission. For the next few months, the men were trained, and this time Ram can see that they’re training harder than before. That’s because now that they’ve seen what the real battlefield could look like, they take their training even more seriously. While Ram took over training, his Babai is researching for their next mission. He took it upon himself to make sure that they are more informed this time. He won’t risk a slip up like the last one.

Seetha is still working as the village healer. She maintains constant communication with Jenny now. Jenny sent letters to Babai, giving him any insider information she could find. Alongside those letters, sometimes she will attach trinkets or accessories for Seetha. It’s quite sweet really, and Seetha keeps every single one of those trinkets like it’s worth more than gold.

Ram, on the other hand, did not maintain contact with anyone. He doesn’t have many close friends to begin with. And Bheem. Last time he saw him, they left each other unsure of what will become of them. Ram tried to send a letter, but he doesn’t even know what to put inside those letters. Writing about anything but his true feelings will feel like he’s just writing the letter out of courtesy, but writing about his true feelings is too high of a risk. Ram feels like breaking down even at the thought of writing it.

Instead Ram busied himself with the mission preparations. He busied himself caring for the white alyssum in his garden. He feels like he’s nursing something bigger than just a simple plant. Nevertheless, Ram tries to live his life. Although living any life without involving Bheem feels not quite right for him.

Ram’s team went on their second mission not long after. That mission was a huge success. They even got to recruit some of the people in that area. Their homes had been taken by the British to build a government building, so they agreed with eagerness to join Ram's team. Ram and his Babai don’t mind an extra aid in achieving their cause, and Seetha is welcoming the ones joining her as healer members with open arms.

Their third and fourth mission also went without a hitch. Ram’s quite happy with the result of their months of training and Babai’s hard work yielding success.

Well, you know when old people said that if you’re laughing too hard in the morning, you’ll weep in the evening? They meet their equivalent of that awful proverb in their fifth mission. On Ram’s team’s defence, Ram should have seen this coming.

One of the men who joined their team after the second mission was physically quite gifted. He adapted quickly to the daily training and soon he trained alongside the more senior team. They decided to bring the guy to their fifth mission, since he seemed to be doing well in the preparation training.

They forgot to take into account that real battles are much scarier and more intense than training. As soon as the fights broke out, the new guys panicked and charged into the nearest line of soldiers.

The team was taken aback for a moment, because that was not one of the plans. The rest looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Don’t break formation,” Ram commanded, “Keep doing the mission as planned, I’ll take care of him.”

So the team kept doing what they were told to do, while Ram tried to find a way to make the new guy move farther from the line of fire. None of them were supposed to be that close to the enemy’s line anyway. What was that guy thinking?!

If Bheem was here, he might have had some brilliant idea to save the guy without scaring him. But since only Ram is here, he just does the most Ram thing he could do. He approaches the guy and just starts yelling.

“What do you think you are doing?” he orders, “Get back!”.

The new guy looked at Ram for a second like Ram’s the one who lost his mind, “But I can shoot them down! Why are we retreating?!”.

“We already got the equipment we need from the warehouse!” Ram shouts above the sound of gunshots. He understands the new guy is definitely high on adrenaline, but he’s not risking losing anyone just so the guy can satisfy his battle euphoria. Worst case scenario he’ll just yank this guy back to where the others are waiting for them.

“Listen!” Ram bellows, “You’re too far from your teammates! They can’t cover you! You’re basically outnumbered out here!”.

The man kept shooting for a while, but then he started retreating. Ram’s about to move as well, but he spots snipers being put into place. He needs to shoot them down first, or else they’ll have a much harder time retreating.

This puts Ram on that open field of fire for quite a while. And as he had expected, his team can’t cover for him this far. Which means it is quite inevitable that he got shot.

He had been beaten up by a crowd before. He had been tortured for days on end before. Hell, he had been shot before. But it’s not like you built immunity against bullets.

Ram doubles down as the first bullet digs itself into his flesh. The burning feeling spread from where the iron had lodged itself. He quickly gets back on his feet, ignoring the painful jolts he feels every time he moves. He finishes shooting the men behind the snipers and begins retreating. He received a second bullet in his arm before he finally got within the team’s protection range.

He instructed everyone to begin packing up and retreating. They quickly vacate the area, all the while their new recruit looked like he wanted to vomit. He keeps apologising profusely. Everyone was too tired to get angry. At least they didn’t fail the mission. And they all can sympathise with someone being too excited for their first mission to a point where they act recklessly. Their own first mission happened not even a year ago.

When they met Ram’s Babai where he had been waiting for them, a group of healers was ready to treat the wounded. They herded Ram into a tent, then getting ready to get the bullet out and stitch the wound. Ram’s adrenaline had come down, so now he feels the pain he’s been in more clearly. He can’t move without turning his vision red, every motion increasing the flare of burning feelings in his gut and arm where the bullet is. One of the healers moves to give him painkillers. They work quickly removing the bullet, as Ram’s consciousness comes and goes.

Being unable to move around while having no control over your consciousness means he doesn’t have a lot of things to distract himself from his feelings. Ram feels as if floating inside his mind. His emotions are amplified around him. He jumps from fear to anger to anxiety. The last one was a yearning for someone.

Then he wakes up in the village’s healer’s tent.

He tries to sit up with lots of effort. His whole body feels like it’s made of iron. His hand is stiff as if it’s a marionette’s joints. He observes his surroundings, there’s some mat with the wounded men on them, all of them fast asleep.

Getting up with minimal groaning, Ram approaches the tent’s opening. The moon was high in the sky, and the chilly night wind made him regret not taking his blanket with him.

Water’s trickling sound catches his attention. He turned around to see Seetha walking with buckets of water in her hand.

“Ram?” she finally saw him, “Why are you out here? Go back inside, you’re supposed to be recovering.”

“I can’t sleep anymore, I’ve been out the whole day haven’t I?” he guesses.

Seetha sighs, which means Ram is right. He tried to help her with the bucket but she lightly kicked him away, “No, stay out of it, you’re a patient. If you can’t sleep, at least you shouldn't be moving around.”

She leads him to the furnace outside the tent. There’s several trays of medical equipment beside it. Seetha makes Ram sit nearby, before preparing to boil some water. She disinfects the trays before doing the same thing to the medical equipment, putting the cleaned ones in the disinfected trays.

“How are you feeling?” Seetha asks.

“Mostly pain,” Ram jokes dryly.

“Must be,” Seetha scoffs, “You should take better care of yourself.”

“I’ll try not to get shot too often, ma’am,” he retorts. Seetha just shakes her head.

She begins again, “New letter from Jenny just arrived. She got me these,” Seetha fiddles with the earrings she’s wearing. The silvery colour is stained with the orange light from the fire.

Ram feels a pang of jealousy. He’s not sure for what or whom. He’s truly happy for Seetha. He hasn't seen her this happy since they were kids. How do two traumatised children heal each other? They support each other anyway they can. But making each other happy was not their first priority. So Ram’s just happy that someone is finally providing Seetha reasons to be happy. Nevertheless, there’s a tiny envy present. A wish to be just as happy.

“How about Bheem?” Seetha inquired, “He got any news?”.

Ram opted to tell her the truth. There’s only two people so far that he trusts with his honest feelings. The first one is Seetha, the second one is the subject of their oncoming discussion.

“No, not really,” Ram finally answered, “For what it’s worth, we haven’t been exchanging letters these days. Not since..,” he lets his words hang in the air.

Seetha nods, “I see.”

They sat around in contemplating silence. The fire crackles is the only proof that time hasn’t just stopped completely.

“What do you think of Jenny?” Seetha wondered.

Ram thought for a moment, “I don’t know. She’s quite interesting I guess. She’s witty and spirited. If anything, I thought Bheem was quite a fool for not trying harder to win her.”

“I like her,” Seetha said, “Like, like her. And I’m glad Bheem didn’t fight harder to win her. ”

Because of course Seetha is so much better than Ram at confronting her feelings.

“So,” Seetha repeated her question, “What do you think of Jenny…with me?”.

Ram failed at fighting his grin, “You know I’ll approve of anything that makes you happy. You’re my friend first and foremost. We can’t change our past. But if you can have a happier future, how can I not be happy for you?”.

He looks at her, “So, are you happy?”.

“I am,” Seetha nods, “I really am. Back when I lived in her cottage, at the village? We’ll talk for hours. We’ll find time to talk whenever we can. And..and sometimes, I have all those horrible thoughts and memories. Like all of my emotions flooding over me. She’ll sit with me, and listen to my ramblings. And nothing calms me down like her presence. I don’t know what I have done that made the universe decide to grace me with her companionship.”

As Seetha tells him her and Jenny’s story, Ram can’t help but think of a certain someone. Someone who he enjoys talking for hours to. Someone whose company is the only thing that can calm him on his worst nights. Someone that sits beside him and convinces him to talk about his bitter emotions and scary thoughts until all of the heaviness subsides in his chest.

“She’s visiting you know,” Seetha continues, “In a few months, she’ll take some time off from her work in Delhi. And she’ll visit us here. I can actually meet her, and talk to her in person again. I can’t wait.” As she said the last sentence, she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“How about you?,” she asks, “Have you considered taking my advice and have some time just for yourself?”.

He scoffs at that and vaguely shrugs.

“Have you got anything in particular that brings you comfort?” she queried. Her voice is soft and careful.

A few years ago, his answer might be her. She was his home for the longest time. But in the last few years he was away, the feelings got muddled under the stress and guilt he’s under. When he finally met her again, he found out that the feelings he had, had mellowed down to a fond friendship. Then he comes to realise that perhaps someone else had become his home.

Maybe it’s the melancholic night with the dim light of the moon. Maybe it’s the fact that Ram is still under the influence of painkillers. Maybe it’s because he had always trusted Seetha with all his secrets. But he finally admits what he had been avoiding.

“It was Bheem,” he mumbles, “Well, it still is. Kind of. I haven’t asked how he feels. And if he doesn’t feel the same, I won’t know how to look at him again.” His breath trembles as he says the last sentence.

Seetha nods empathetically, “I can’t give you much reassurance. The matter of hearts is unpredictable and risky. You’ve given someone else the power to make or break you. I think that’s brave. I think that’s courageous. And I’m proud of you for being able to admit it. Just know this. You deserve to be happy. And if you have to take some risk to achieve that happiness, just know that whatever the result is, I’ll always be there for you.”

Ram considers it for a moment.

Can he live with himself should he never tell Bheem about his feelings? Probably, yeah. He has lived with many regrets. He had convinced himself before, that he doesn’t deserve good things. That he ruins everything that came close to him. That he was destined to be absolutely and miserably alone. But Seetha’s words are infectious, and the thought of letting himself just be happy is so alluring to him.

Maybe it’s the fever talking. Maybe he’s going to regret this. This is completely impulsive and reckless. But Ram stands up, slowly, because his annoying wounds are making simple movement so hard to do right now.

“Are you going to get some sleep?” Seetha inquires.

Ram mumbled a vague answer. She shrugged and continued her work. She’s going to kill him later, but he hopes she understands why he has to do this.

He went to his cottage and gathered some of his things. Then he slips a note under Seetha’s house door.

I’m going to visit someone. Be back soon, it reads.

He must’ve been going insane. He’s fully grinning by the time he exits his village.

___

He’s not grinning anymore halfway through the journey. In fact, he’s cursing his impulsive decision as he feels the painkiller’s effects wearing out. His breath was heavy and erratic as he walked through the forest. He’s pretty sure his wound’s stitches had opened up some kilometres ago, but he can’t be bothered to check it. Not that he brought any equipment to re-stitch it either, on the account that he barely packs anything for this poorly planned trip. So his options are getting into Bheem’s village or just lay here and wait for a mountain tiger to maul him down.

He decides that he likes the first option so much more.

However, apparently there’s a third option. He was so exhausted as he approached Bheem’s village. He did not see the overgrown root and trip over it. If there’s any hope that he didn’t tear open his stitches, that hope dies as he feels warm liquid dripping down his sides. His fever was rising to an all time high that his vision doubled and blurred. The last thing he remembered was a face popping on the edge of his range of view:

“I thought I told you not to die.”

___

He’s not sure if the following events happened or was it only in his imagination. He saw someone looming over him. He felt light, as if he’s being moved around. Someone is re-stitching his open wounds. There’s a few voices talking at the same time, but he can’t make up the words. He finally saw Bheem, or maybe it was someone who looked extremely similar. He’s not sure who is who when the world is this blurry.

“Hey, buddy,” the-guy-who-might-be-Bheem whispered, “What happened? Who did this?”.

Ram noted that his voice was croaking creepily as he answered, “Hi. Hi. I got shot.” He felt weirdly embarrassed, so he added, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Bheem assured him, “We’ll get you healed in no time, okay? Just stay with me, now.”

“You’re so nice,” Ram coos, “Why are you so nice to me? Do you like me?”.

Bheem didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he said softly, “Yes. Yes, I do. That’s why you’ve got to make it through this night, okay? So we can talk again tomorrow.”

“I like you. Soooo much,” Ram’s words are slurring, “Like this much-” he waves his hands. One of his hands smacked into something and he heard curses muttered under someone’s breath.

“Yeah, maybe don’t flail around,” Bheem took his hand and put it back to his sides, “We’re trying to stop the bleeding.”

Suddenly Ram feels so tired. He just wants to close his eyes and go to sleep. He trekked a long way to get here. Surely he deserves to take a nap. So he blinks a few times before saying, “Okayy, I won’t move around. Good night, Bheem, I love you a lotttt. I want to hug you but I promised not to move. But I miss you, I really do.” He let himself fall deeper into his sleepiness.

“Hey, stay with me,” Bheem’s voice sounds desperate, “Don’t you dare die on me after giving me such a speech.”

Then Ram’s view dissolves into darkness.

The sun was high when Ram woke up. He tries to sit up but a face materialises before him. He startles and screams.

“Hey, calm down-,” the voice sounds exasperated, “Stop screaming, it’s me!”.

He stops screaming and squints. Malli was squatting beside where he had been sleeping. He’s about to scold her but his throat is so dry he began coughing instead. Malli sighs and fetches a glass of water. Ram groans as he finally successfully sits upright.

“Here, have a drink,” she almost shoves it in his face, “You can’t die after you do that whole public love confession thing. If you do, I won’t get to make fun of you.”

Ram chokes on his drink, “The whole what now?”.

“Love confession?” Malli teases, “You were being treated by the healer. Bheem-anna literally ran to see you. Then you started blabbering about how you love him, this muchhh-” Malli made an exaggerated gesture with her hands that Ram surely did not do.

Ram covers his heated face with his hand, “Oh no.”

“Oh no, indeed,” Malli replies in an annoying sing-songy voice, “Looks like someone has an embarrassing crush on my anna.”

Ram tried to whack her, but that little irritating girl had already jumped out of the way.

“How did I get here anyway?” Ram inquired.

Malli grins, “I saved you, of course! I found you fainting near the village entrance this morning, so I told the healers to fetch you. You owe me one!”.

Ram’s not too thrilled at the idea that he owes Malli his life, but he already did anyway, so he just murmurs, “Thanks, Malli. I owe you one.”

“What’s that?” Malli sneers, “I can’t hear it.”

How does one little girl have it in her to be so infuriating?

“Come here closer so I can tell you clearly,” Ram waves his hand at her.

Malli tiptoes closer to him before halting, “Uh, no thanks. You literally emit bad intentions. I’m going to save myself from the big bad wolf, so goodbye!”. She ran out of the room.

Ram scoffs but does not give chase. His whole body is stiff anyway, he’ll probably just face plant to the floor if he tries to run. As if his life hasn’t been embarrassing enough. He fiddles with his cup of water for some time. Then someone enters the room.

“Feeling better?” the voice asks.

Ram looks up and finds Bheem approaching him. Ram’s face is heating up at a concerning speed.

“Y-yeah,” he responds, “Sorry about the whole shenanigans. I wasn’t in the right mind.”

Bheem looks like he’s disconcerted before carefully going blank again, “Oh. I see.”

He took a seat beside Ram, “What happened? Malli found you unconscious near the village.”

“Yeah, she told me I owe her one for that,” Ram began. Bheem chuckles at that, and Ram can’t help but to smile as well, “It was the last mission. Got a newbie straying from the team. I got him to retreat back to the team’s defence but got shot instead. So…”.

Bheem massages his temple,”Why on earth are you so self sacrificial? That was a reckless move.”

“Well, you’re one to talk. I bet if you were there, you wouldn’t leave that newbie to fend for himself either,” Ram retorts. Bheem shakes his head.

“Then, what’s this about?” Bheem inquired, “Why did you go here? Is there anything we could do to help, perhaps? If anything, you could have sent a letter instead”.

Ram’s throat suddenly feels very dry again. Right, the reason he went here. The fever induced love confession.

“I didn’t come here for mission related things,” Ram tries to fight the urge to run out of the room, “Actually, I didn’t tell anyone before going here.”

“You what?” Bheem shouts before lowering his voice, “Sorry, you what? You didn’t tell anyone? Not even Seetha or your Babai?”.

“Technically, I left Seetha a note about how I need to visit someone, so-” Ram defended himself.

“That is not a comfort,” Bheem sighs loudly, “That is such a vague announcement. ‘Someone’ could range from visiting a relative to you getting into trouble. They must’ve been worried sick by now. I got to send a letter telling them that you’re here.” He starts to stand up.

“Okay, wait,” Ram holds Bheem's hand before taking his hand back again in surprise, “Seetha, Seetha will know that I’m here.”

“And why are you so sure?” Bheem questions.

Ram hates that he has to have these conversations. Why can’t he just do the hand signals thing like he did on the bridge, then hopes that Bheem understands?

He took a deep breath, ignoring his pounding heart and began again, “Because we were talking before I went here. About you. Well, it started with her talking about Jenny, and somehow the conversation ends with us talking about you.”

“I’m not following,” Bheem said in confusion, “Why did a conversation about Jenny and me somehow relate to why you are currently here?”.

“B-because,” Ram tried not to stammer, but it is hard considering how much he’s shaking right now. He’s risking so many things. His friendship, his relation to Bheem, his village relation to Bheem’s people. All in the name of his selfish personal needs. He should feel quite bad about it. But since his feverish self last night already betrayed him, then the cat’s out of the bag. “Because Seetha told me she likes Jenny. And she’s happy that Jenny wasn’t with you anymore.”

“And?” Bheem query patiently, “Are you here on behalf of Seetha asking for Jenny’s hand or something? Because if so, you’re in the wrong place. I do not speak for Jenny.”

“No, I’m not here for that. I’m here because,” Ram inhales deeply before finishing his sentence in one breath, “Last night I realised that perhaps I have loved you all along. And that if I never told you then I might as well give up on my happiness. Or something like that.”

Bheem had become still as a stone and Ram winces. Of course he just messed this up. He feels panic rising in his chest.

“Well, I-” Bheem hesitates, “May I ask why you finally found me unworthy of your love?”.

Ram feels as if his brain just short circuited, “What now? I never said that?”.

“You said you were not in your right mind when you came to that conclusion,” Bheem looks so desperate that Ram’s heart aches in response, “I just wonder, now that you’re not under the influence of your fever, what has made you decide that I’m no longer worthy of your love?”.

Ram gaped at that. He means he wasn’t in his right mind as in he was blabbering throughout his first love confession to Bheem. And he did not want his love confession to Bheem to happen under the influence of anything. But beside that, every word is true.

It seems that Ram didn’t talk for some time because Bheem then backed off and said, “Never mind, I didn’t mean to prod at you. I’ll go write Seetha a letter to confirm your arrival, then.”

“Wait. No, no-,” Ram blurted, “I swear. Sit down. Please.”.

Bheem looked unsure but sat back down nevertheless.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know what? I’m sorry, I’m bad at this,” Ram fiddled with his hands, “I love you. I’m not sure since when, but probably a long time ago. I’m not the smartest at figuring out my feelings. But Seetha told me that there’s risks in achieving one’s happiness. And she’s brave enough to take that risk. That makes me want to take that risk as well. So I rush here to tell you that I love you. That was impulsive, I know you’d disapprove. That’s what I meant by ‘not in my right mind’. I’m fully, fully sober now, and I can tell you with certainty that I loved you. I still do, if anything.”

Now that he’d vomited out all of his feelings, the room fell eerily silent as Ram’s stare at basically anything but Bheem. If there’s rejection, or even worse, disgust, in Bheem’s expression...Ram’s not sure he can handle that.

“I-I’m sorry to bring this up so suddenly,” Ram’s voice feels small, “I understand if you don’t feel the same, and if you feel uncomfortable resuming our friendship going forward because of this-”.

Bheem pointed at his backyard’s door. Ram’s not sure what to do.

“Why are you pointing that way?” Ram dumbly squeaks, “Is there something weird or scary there?”.

Bheem scoffs, “No. That flower.”.

Ram followed the direction of Bheem’s finger and found clumps of blue star-shaped flowers growing in the middle section of Bheem’s garden.

“Uhh, I’m confused,” Ram confesses, “Is there anything wrong with that flower?”.

Bheem makes a choking sound. Then he started half wailing, half shrieking. Ram’s panic that he has somehow broken Bheem for a split second, until he realises that Bheem is laughing.

“I hate you. Oh, I hate you,” Bheem wheezes, “But I love you too. I really do.”.

Ram just resumes staring wide eyed at Bheem, still laughing on the floor.

“Those are forget-me-nots, dumbass,” Bheem exclaims, “I plant those ever since you left, because I believe, no, I want to believe those old myths. I wish that if I just nurture those flowers that you’ll remember me.”

“I will try not to take offence at being called a dumbass,” Ram reiterates slowly, “But I still don’t get it. What’s the relation between those flowers and me?”.

“Those flowers,” Bheem said in between gasps of breath, “are my cowardice. I love you too, Ram. I too have been in love with you for a long time. I didn’t want to confront my feelings, so I planted those flowers instead, hoping that it would work up a magic or something. And it does! You’re here and you said you love me. And I just-” Bheem envelopes him in a hug.

“Oh, I admit defeat,” Bheem sighs, “I always thought that you’re the one who’s struggling with processing your feelings. But here you are, having much courage to tell me your feelings first. I would never expect for you to beat me to a love confession. You’re amazing. You’re amazing and I love you!”.

“Does that mean I get to call you my beloved, now?” Ram melts inside Bheem’s embrace.

“Yes,” Bheem nods excitedly, “Yes, you do. And I get to call you my beloved as well?”.

To answer that, Ram took Bheem’s face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Bheem hums in agreement.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled in each other’s limbs, pressing fluttering kisses at each other. Then Bheem jolts and opens his eyes, “Oh! We have to tell Seetha about this! We have to inform her of your arrival as well!”.

“Can’t we just do that later?,” Ram’s still pressing kisses to Bheem’s neck, earning him Bheem’s soft shudder.

“No, because then we’ll forget about it and Seetha will kill us for making her worried,” Bheem regretfully starts standing up. Ram whines and Bheem lowers himself for a moment to peck one last fluttering kiss to Ram’s lips, “I’ve got to go. But I’ll be back, my beloved. Beloved. I like that word so much.”

With that Bheem exited the room, leaving Ram sitting in a daze, a big smile still plastered across his face.

The future’s still uncertain for Ram, and his missions will always become his priority wherever he goes. But he has to admit. Whatever impending problems the future has in store, it comforts him having Bheem by his side. They’d become each other’s strength, and each other’s home.

After all, he does have the best beloved in the world.

___

Epilogue

It's been years for Bheem, his life filled with moments of joy and slivers of heartbreak. Looking over the crowd who watches him with tears in their eyes, Bheem cannot fear the looming threat of death sentence. His life he will give to the nation, to help them achieve their cause of freedom. Soon he will join his departed friends and his beloved in the afterlife.

He loses so much years after years since he planted that garden of flowers. The people he loves are gone one by one, until he stands alone in the middle of that backyard, the bright flowers only adding to the ache of his heart. Yet he regrets none of the love he has given to his community, to his friends, to his Ram. All of the happiness they have given him is worth these pains he has to feel when he ultimately loses them.

When we part ways, Ram said that afternoon, how long do you think you can remember me before you forget?

Bheem's mouth quirks up slightly at that question. As if he could forget the one he had given his heart to, utterly and completely.

Never, Bheem remembers saying, voice oddly filled with determination, I'll always remember you. After all, you're very annoying.

He wonders if anyone would find their cottage in that woods. And their garden in the backyard. If anyone finds it, he hopes they remember all the troubles and torments they have been through, so they don't forget the peace and joy that happened there too. Because Bheem had promised that he would remember those moments, painful or not. And standing here in his last seconds of life, Bheem just knows it.

He does remember it all.

___

Author’s Note - End: Cynoglossum Amabile/Forget-me-nots symbolises true love and respect. The word "amabile" means gentle or 'capable of love'. Just like the name 'forget me not', the flower represents the wish to always remember someone.

Tagging the mods @stanleykubricks and @fangirlshrewt97 and the blog @celebrrration in case my Tumblr went nuts again.

Credit to @dumdaradumdaradum for giving me lots of fun facts throughout the making of this series.

[robotsandramblings]

this is a purely self-indulgent post, that i'm posting here for self reference lol :P don't mind me!

(it's continuing from a previous post where, in the tags, i was trying to figure out exactly when i got into the Star Wars tv shows specifically! -i've been a fan of the movies for literal decades, having been introduced to the original trilogy in the mid 1990s. [yes i old lmao.] -but i never watched Clone Wars or Rebels when they first aired; i've actually only been involved with the tv shows, books and comics within the last 5 years or so! -so below is my self journey to determine exactly when i started watching that stuff! it's literally just blahblahblah random irrelevant information, for my own reference)

the final answer, for those who care, lol: Spring (Apr/May) 2020! so not even 5 years really??! wow, it feels like so much longer!!!

so yes, Spring 2020 (April & moreso May) is when i really got into the TV side of things. i had plans for many years to check out Clone Wars and Rebels, and i remember hearing all the big news and hype about TCW Season 7 in 2018-2019, which made me really say "ok i need to check this out!"

but The Mandalorian was actually my first SW tv show ever! yet i don't think i watched it right away lol?? it aired Nov-Dec 2019, but i wasn't reblogging Mando content until April 2020. (checks archives: yep, still mostly into Transformers! and even a fair amount of Voltron ahahaha oh god.)

so i also didn't watch Clone Wars S7 while it aired, which i knew. ironically, i did start the series from the beginning at the same time the S7 finale aired! (i found a text post dated May 2nd 2020.) no doubt it was all the buzz about the finale that really pushed me to check out the series!!

and then i found another text post from Nov 11 2020 saying i had just finished the emotional Season 5 finale. and with Season 6 only have 13 episodes, i'm sure i finished that one soonafter...and i'm guessing i finally got to Season 7 in Nov-Dec 2020. (i keep track of everything i read in Goodreads, and it says i read Son of Dathomir mid-Nov, and then Ahsoka mid-Dec. most likely S7 was sandwiched inbetween them.)

then Jan or Feb 2021 was Rebels. (again, per my books read, i read the Kanan comics and started the Thrawn novels in February. i know by then i was following a chronological list of media, and i would have read the Thrawn books in prep for Rebels S3.)

and for whatever reason, i just wasn't reblogging TCW nor Rebels on my tumblr - not until Sept 2021. i think i was waiting to finish Bad Batch S1 in its entirety first??? (finale was mid-Aug 2021.)

a fun side story, a strong memory of mine: when The Bad Batch trailer was released in April 2021, i remember Rex had his little 1 second cameo, and the sheer excitement that i felt!!!!!, and how the whole fandom was losing our minds!!!!!!!

anyways, it's most likely i made sure to have Rebels finished by the time Bad Batch premiered on May 4th 2021.

and then i immediately was reblogging SO MUCH Bad Batch, and like i said earlier, it's when i started reblogging TCW and Rebels as well. (i never really did a proper Rebels lookthrough of the tags and such, i don't think??? i really should! with my 2nd rewatch i'm still trying to do LMAO!)

and then, in terms of books, after the Thrawn trilogy, i was really only doing the encyclopedias and art books for awhile, until summer 2021 when i did Dark Disciple, which started my official foray into the disney canon novels!

there you go Rora, now you have a reference post for every time you're like "how long have i been into TCW, Rebels, Bad Batch????" because it really does feel like forever already! <3

[croy-on-a-working-vacation]

I found your blog yesterday, I hadn’t looked up much about the Star Cruiser before going because I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for myself, but afterwards I immediately looked around Tumblr for Lt Croy content and you blog is the first one that came up 😆

Is there an actual Lt Croy fandom ?? Like for him specifically ?? Is there a Discord server ? Because if there isn’t one about him specifically yet, I want to make one, gather all his supporters, and maybe for next year we could all coordinate dates we go to the Starcruiser to have like a big group of fans supporting him at the same time 😆 There were only maybe like 5 true First Order supporters in my trip, GOD I have so much to talk about, so much happened FFFF

I absolutely plan on going back tho. This was one of the best experiences of my life. So happy to see a fellow Croy fan around Tumblr 😆

Hi @kina-axian!!! So I couldn’t reply to your post in the comments, but I wanted to add that you spoke to the right person when you were directed to Captain Keevan. She does, in fact, have a soft spot herself for Croy, so she was definitely being honest with you about the chances of him going free if properly defended 😉

I’m so glad you got the ending you wanted while following the FO story track! And you found me! Welcome! 🎉

We’re still a small fandom, but if you’re a fan of Lenka and Sammie, we also have @lenka-mok and @can-i-keep-the-suit who you can follow as well for specific character content. But checking the tags is the best way to catch posts from everyone involved in the discourse.

I wouldn’t say Croy has his own fandom, but he’s a popular character. We talk about him almost daily lol. You’ll find plenty of his supporters on the discord (I mean, tbh, we all love him). I’ll DM you the discord link so you can join. We’d love to have you.

The idea of having a bunch of Croy supporters on a future cruise would be so much fun (and probably very confusing for the Resistance lol). I’ll be going on my first cruise this January, and I have no idea what the FO side of things is going to look like in terms of my fellow passengers joining in, but I think it’ll be ✨an experience✨ no matter what.

[misfits-den]

This poll got better response that I expected please keep voting, so for that 1 person so far who voted for more details.

The point is to get all the posts tagged with at least one of the tracked tags and reblog them to single blog.

Here's more or less how it will work (I'm open for suggestions)

Get all the posts from all tracked tags in given timeframe

Get unique posts - so posts with both tracked_tag_1 and tracked_tag_2 will be reblogged only once

Add archival date tags - right now the format would be [date], so for example for post made on 2023-02-31 > [2023], [2023-02], [2023-02-31]; that will allow to browse posts made on specific day, specific month, and specific year.

Copy the tags from original post - in effort to preserve extra content/warning tags, like mermaid!AU, or dragons, or flashing lights, etc. Those won't get the [].

Reblog

How often will it be run?

Everyday, but it will collect posts older than a week - or more, definitely not less. This is to encourage people to keep using the /tagged or /search options on Tumblr, because, as I've mentioned, Tumblr API DOES NOT return all the posts visible on web.

As in, when I've checked #trigunbookclub, API was missing like first 5 posts. And it's like that by design. The difference is due to Tumblr not actually using the API to display posts. I'm looking into alternatives, one looks good so far, hopefully it won't annoy Tumblr just as much as Tumblr annoys me, I don't want to get banned (again, suggestions are welcome).

It's also to give users time to modify/delete their post. And if you end up following the archival blog, you'll get to see the posts again.

Which tags will be tracked?

So far the list is: #trigun, #trigun maximum, #trigun stampede, #trimax, #tristamp, #trigunbookclub

I'll keep the list on pinned post on archival blog (together with most of what I've written here).

If you have any suggestions, go ahead and send me an ask/DM.

What if I don't want my posts reblogged?

Bot will ignore posts with tags: #delete later, #private, #do not reblog.

It can also be set up to ignore specific blogs.

If a post was already reblogged, let me know and I'll delete it.

Will you also filter out nasty tags like plantce-

No.

I want my posts reblogged, but they're often skipped

Let me know, we will see about getting them straight from your blog instead.

Will you start archiving from the newest posts or from the oldest?

Honestly I want to start from oldest, to try and keep the order of posting since you can't filter by multiple tags, so if someone wants to filter all #trimax posts, they will still get them in some chronological order, but I'm probably going to do a poll for that too. But-

For example, #trigun stampede has 4400 pages as of today, let's count 10 posts per page (there's less). I can reblog 250 posts per day (if I'm not mistaken), that's 25 pages. That's 176 days to get up to date just with #trigun stampede.

Yeah, poll it is.

When will it start?

I need to cleanup the code, and add some tests, but I should be able to start next week, IF I don't get any votes against.

What if I have more questions?

Hit me up, my askbox and DMs are open.

[myladyofmercy]

I got tagged by @tessabennet to do a

8 shows to get to know me

list and she did it as a kind of watch history and I loved that method so I am copying it

1. h2o: just add water

this show defined my childhood. i was obsessed. i remember only being allowed to watch the rewatches on saturday mornings but not the premieres that came mondays through thursdays. when s3 came around my parents allowed me to record the episodes on vhs and then watch the episode the next day. when the finale aired i had a friend come over after school the next day and we watched the last two episodes even tho she already watched them the night before. in the scene where lewis walks down the stairs in slow mo she pulled out her flip phone and recorded the scene because she thought he looked so cute.

also rikki made me gay and i was always her when we played mermaids in the pool.

2. glee

my first big teenage obsession. i think i started watching when season 2 was airing. the last two seasons took so fucking long to come out dubbed that it was the first time i streamed an episode right after it aired in the us even tho my english wasn't that good yet. i also got my mom and my aunt to watch it. my aunts favorite was finn and when i read that cory had died i called her right before bed to tell her and she told me later she couldn't sleep that night.

my favorite characters were quinn and kurt. quinn made me gay(er)

also i wasn't in fandom spaces back then so i managed to escape all the crazy shit that went on in the fandom back then but i have met some new friends recently who were in it and told me some horror stories and i really feel like I dodged a bullet.

3. gossip girl

i only watched this show after it aired but it's so messy and a definite guily pleasure.

also unpopular opinion but my favorite character was jenny (i am also obsessed with her band and their music and covered two of their songs in my school rockband)

4. the originals

i always preferred the originals over the vampire diaries because i just liked klaus and the other mikaelsons more than elena and co. i also became obsessed with the soundtrack of the show and used to listen to the tracks on youtube and would then convert my faves. that's how i discovered my love for ruelle.

5. shameless

another big obsession I discovered between s4 and s5 airing. i remember crying real tears when ian and mickey broke up in s5. i think gallavich was the first pairing i watched fanedits on youtube for and also how i discovered twenty one pilots and my ultimate beloved florence and the machine. i also had a fan account on instagram at one point that got some likes from emma kenney.

6. supernatural

oh supernatural.

i discovered the show at a very low point in my life and bingewatched 10 seasons back to back while staying home from school. destiel was the first ship i ever read fic for (twist and shout anyone?) and even tho this show went on for wayyyy to long and made some very questionable choices it still has a place in my heart.

7. 911

at this point in time this show is probably my biggest obsession right now (probably because a new season is airing right now) i saw gifs of buck and abby on tumblr when the first season was airing in 2018 but only started watching when the spin off started and i rediscovered it via tumblr during s3. i have done multiple rewatches at this point and this show can truly make you laugh, cry, look away in disgust and believe in humanity at the same time.

also either buddie is the best slow burn of all time or the biggest queerbait since destiel and i am down for the ride.

8. young royals

where do i even begin with this show. it showed up on tumblr in july of 2021 and then i watched it the second weekend of the month and my life changed. since then i have started being truly active on tumblr, creating content myself, reading fanfic earnestly and by some great writers who i can call friends now, learning swedish (even tho the bird scares me), found a bunch of friends from all over the world and flew to fucking canada all on my own to visit people i met through this show. like what the fuck. even tho my obsession is a bit dormant right now they have just started filming the third and last season and as the amount of content will grow my obsession will too. i know it.

-

okay so this was a fucking essay but i really enjoyed this little deep dive into my watch history and even tho i don't expect anyone to do this I'm gonna tag some of my lovely friends (who i may or may not have found through that small swedish show at 8.)

@tooindecisivetopickaurl @i-love-semicolons @prince-simon @angelbabysimon @cloudywilmon @royalwilmon @oatmilkovich @ungaroyals @aro-of-artemis @little---versailles @cantputitintowords

[catgirlwheels]

I posted 14,473 times in 2022

That's 2,616 more posts than 2021!

95 posts created (1%)

14,378 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mossy-scaled-dragon

@astralwasteland

@birdfuckeronline

@natalieironside

@drippity

I tagged 10,566 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#friend - 2,814 posts

#oh dear - 781 posts

#oh no lol - 722 posts

#oh neat - 624 posts

#oooh pretty - 597 posts

#lol - 586 posts

#awwwww - 514 posts

#pfft lol - 467 posts

#🤣 - 418 posts

#paws.txt - 378 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#does the right thing when it counts but they're a social outcast/grumpy asshole/antivillain/etc because of trauma or repeated rejection

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Oh whatever, tumblr search is useless. Excuses to take new pictures! Yay!

Can't see much of the white in the middle and the pockets are kinda useless this way but WHATEVER I'm gay as fuck ^.^

19 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#4

Why is she like this with these treats we have no idea. But she loves them lol

24 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

#3

I am grateful to the writers of game mods. I used to do that, I know how hard it is. Whether you're doing what the devs should've done in the first place or adding things of your own, I appreciate the heck out of you. Thank you for making our games better.

38 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#2

I call this a bag plan.

It hacks my brain, disregards rules, breaks blocks, and helps me think about multiple things at once without losing track.

One time in school I needed a break from banging my head against a programming assignment and I went to the only place I ever went off campus: Chipotle. Got my burrito in my paper bag and for whatever reason I decided to dismantle the bag while I ate. Might've just been a little destruction as a treat, idk. Got to the end of my burrito and decided I couldn't avoid thinking about the assignment forever.

I had this nice big paper in front of me that was definitely trash and I couldn't possibly write anything wrong on it because it was already trash, and it was big and there were no lines and no start and I just picked a spot and started writing. Had a different thought and started writing somewhere else. Broke my block, fixed 3/4 of the programming problems without a computer in front of me, moved from the end of the world in my head to a solid idea of what I needed to do in a couple hours and a paper bag.

After acing that group project I got myself a roll of craft paper and just started doing this regularly. I've done this for story scenes, working out different people's needs, designing game levels, shopping lists, whatever.

I used to just keep one of these folded up in my pocket as a notepad (gods I miss clothes with pockets), but it unfolds so I can dump my brain into it if I need to. It's great and I love it.

See the full post

78 notes - Posted March 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Things I would like non-wheelchair people to know

Do not touch my chair. Unless I've lost control of my chair and am rolling into traffic, if I have not given you explicit permission, that is a huge violation of my personal space. Think of grabbing my push handles like grabbing someone's shoulders. That's not a thing you just do to people.

If I don't know you, nothing about my chair, my body, my situation, or what I'm doing is any of your gods damned business. Think of commenting on these things to a stranger like catcalling. (If I know you it's probably fine, as long as you're respectful. Just like any other personal topic you might ask someone about.)

If I decline an offer of help, do not insist. I know what things I need help with a lot better than you do. (Nothing wrong with offering, help is definitely welcome sometimes, just respect my response.)

Okay, things that should be obvious out of the way, here's what the post is actually about:

I still prefer the terms "walking" and "running" for the ways I get around. I might say "rolling" or "wheeling" if the distinction is relevant for some reason, since I am ambulatory some of the time, but in general I prefer the same words as you tall people.

I need a much wider space to turn, or especially to turn around, than I do just to pass through a space.

Ask me, rather than assuming you know whether or not I can do something. I would love to go hiking with you, actually, if the trail is light and friendly enough to wheels. No, I can't ice skate, but I'd still rather you ask if I want to come along than assume I don't want to be included.

Which activities are notably more difficult is often not obvious. Popping a wheelie to get over a small amount of difficult terrain or even climbing a single step (if I have something to pull myself up with) can actually be pretty easy. A long stretch of ground tilted slightly to the left or right takes a ton of effort. Carrying anything that fits in my lap is trivially easy, but transporting anything that doesn't fit in my lap is quite hard (though I recently discovered my vacuum fits nicely on my footplate if I wrap my legs around it a little which is cool.) I am constantly surprised by little things that are or aren't harder than I thought they'd be, or are actually easier than before because I'm sitting.

If you are in my path, you moving suddenly is actually really unpleasant for me. I know you're there, I'm not going to run you over. If you're in my way, please do move! But jerking suddenly makes you unpredictable and I might have to stop suddenly to be certain everyone is safe while I process the change, just like if I were driving a car. Also like driving a car, stopping suddenly is unpleasant and a lot of effort, but the small adjustment to my direction I was planning to make is very easy. (Same goes for bikes honestly, or any other vehicle. That's what the chair is, a vehicle.)

If we're walking around together and need to get past some stairs, it's nice if you come with me on the ramp, especially if that ramp is out of the way. It can be really isolating to have to go a different way than everyone else.

If we need to walk close together for whatever reason, you walking directly in front of me is best avoided if possible. Bumping into your heel with my metal footplate is going to be a lot more unpleasant for both of us than it would be if I were on my feet.

In general, you should let me speak for myself. It's my joints that don't work, not my brain or my voice. But. If someone else is being disrespectful, your voice is likely much more impactful than mine in that situation. Use it.

I'm not expecting anyone to memorize these things; as long as you're treating disabled people like people, that's enough. And if you want to do more than that but don't know how, respectful questions are generally welcome. I just wanted to share these thoughts, for people who don't live with them all the time. There are a lot of little differences to being seated all the time that you just don’t think about until you’re there.

Also, while I think most of this is generally true for anyone in a wheelchair, obligatory reminder that I speak only for myself.

3,127 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[adakechi]

thank you @deathclassic for the tag <3

i cant put a read more on tumblr ipad what the fuck

1. Do you post on Ao3? If so, how many works do you have on AO3? If not, where do you post?

i dont post art there, but i do post fic.

2. What is your total art count?

I have been drawing digitally since I was 8 (traditionally even longer), it's well into the thousands. Maybe even tens of thousands.

3. What are your top 5 pieces by likes/kudos?

I have no idea, I just know my most liked piece is a tie between a P5 valentines day comic and a really old Buzzfeed Unsolved shitpost.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try, but I'm not great at it. ADHD brain.

5. What is your current fandom, and what was the first fandom you drew for?

I'm all over the fucking place rn, mostly Star Wars, Scott the Woz, Umbrella Academy, Adventure Time. My first was Sonic the Hedgehog. :)

6. Have you ever received hate on any art?

Bestie I had THREE separate hate accounts dedicated to me on instagram back in the day.

7. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t drawn for yet but want to?

Stonathan from Stranger Things, do more Adventure Time stuff, uhhhhhh,,, honestly idk.

8. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Shuake/Akeshu.

9. Do you draw outside of fandom?

Not as much as I'd like, but I'm working on an original horror graphic novel so.

10. What’s the an art piece you’ve drawn that came out completely differently than you expected?

Hmmmmm. This one changed like eight times.

11. Do you draw smut?

Not as often now, but sometimes.

12. Have you ever had any of your art stolen or copied?

A lot more in the past, not so much nowadays. I don't mind tracing or reposting anyway, so I don't really keep track.

13. Have you ever collaborated on a piece?

A long long time ago!

14. What’s an idea you have that you have yet to draw?

I have about 636372 STW ideas rattling in my skull right now.

15. What are your drawing strengths?

Honestly? I don't think I have many. I dislike my art a lot and think I struggle far too much. I guess I'm okay with hands, if I HAD to pick.

16. What are your drawing weaknesses?

Faces, perspective, light source, legs, proportions, fluidity, environments, consistency, line weight.

17. What’s your favorite art piece you’ve drawn?

This is the only thing I think I've drawn in the past 2 years that I didn't just like but loved.

18. What is one thing you’d like to tell people about your art that they might not know?

I don't know what I'm doing, ever. I went to college for this and really I'm still just winging it.

19. What inspires or motivates you to create for fandom?

As fucked up as you may see this, honestly, a big reason is I like the attention. I like interacting with people who find something in my work, it's nice and I like the validation, sue me.

20. And finally, can you describe your process a little? Do you have a favourite place to draw? Do you play something in the background? Do you do research or just go for it? Give us a little insight:

I like to draw on the couch, or in bed. I used to draw in the most uncomfortable position ever, which was on my fucking stomach with a pillow under my jaw. Pre-iPad, I drew at my desk with my Wacom Bamboo tablet. And it depends! Sometimes I'll listen to music, other times I'll put on a YouTube essay or something. Beforehand, I work out a few thumbnails, then open Safari or Pinterest for references. :P

If you're an artist, feel free to do this if you'd like!

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

I posted 614 times in 2022

That's 472 more posts than 2021!

42 posts created (7%)

572 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@serenityspiral

@roguelov

@secretstudentdragonblog

@souryogurt64

@ardwynna

I tagged 606 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#the sandman - 104 posts

#dream of the endless - 70 posts

#art - 56 posts

#fanart - 52 posts

#the beatles - 46 posts

#the sandman netflix - 45 posts

#humor - 36 posts

#cats - 29 posts

#original post - 29 posts

#funny - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#what's worse is i fear lot of bandom still defends him not just bc of the music but because he's one of the few bandom people to be out

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

There's one particular implication of the ending of The Sandman books that I really don't like... but at the same time the books are so literary and dense that it's possible I just don't "get it" and am wildly misinterpreting something so I just 🤷🏻‍♀️

8 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

#4

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (Comics), The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless Additional Tags: Crack, Crack Fic, Comedy, Explanations, Mundane Explanations, allergies suck, Humor Summary:

Many have commented on the Prince of Stories’ striking eyes, but few besides his sister know the truth…

***

@serenityspiral @duckland @roguelov I’ve posted my first completed Sandman fic!  Not smut, given that I currently have an injured hand and I wasn’t really up to typing out the end to one of those yet!  May as well post a gen humor short fic in the meantime haha

9 notes - Posted December 5, 2022

#3

Well, I made another playlist. The title is JUST FOR THE MEME I SWEAR (or do I?)

Fun fact, the, uh, description from track 6 is pretty much literal canon for Dream in the comics. Just ask Calliope. Or Nada.

tagging @serenityspiral because you might appreciate this

11 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

#2

Idk who needs to see this, but this is the best summary of NFTs and Crypto that I’ve yet seen.  What it is, how it works, its history... and the massive, terrifying problems with it.  Helpfully there’s also timestamps so that you don’t have to watch one whole feature-length video in one sitting!

Oh, and even if you aren’t interested in NFTs, this has one of the best explanations of the 2008 financial crash ever.

Somehow, the whole “burning down the rainforest” terrible environmental effects are far from the most horrifying thing about crypto.  Shit’s straight-up dystopian.

@serenityspiral if you haven’t seen this already, you might enjoy it

26 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Do you ever want to write fanfic, and then look at a fandom and go "oh man I am NOT good enough to write smut for them"? Like, the level of literary merit and hotness is just too far out of your league where you know your meager efforts won't do any good? That's where I am right now

34 notes - Posted November 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nathank77]

4/22/24

2:37 a.m edited..

So after a thorough investigation of fb, you can't hide your tags if the post is public if it's someone else's post. All you can do is untag yourself.

You only have full control over your posts. I mean you have control over your tags but I know you're not removing and re-adding your tags. I tested it with my multiple fb accounts bc I had to know. I'm actually a, "victim," of the metaverse/keyword data tracking. I went on my computer and searched first name last name family reunion, bam its there. First name last name ex husband's name bam.

So If I haven't terrified you and made you think I'm a complete psychotic mess, I mean you probably were waiting for me to make this discovery. Although I'm going to be real.

You're scared of me, you think I'm a crazy stalker, that I'm insane and you prob only come to my tumblr to make sure you and your family are safe.

I probably scared the shit out of you posting about your divorce, I could only imagine. I didn't type in info to find the photos, Elise. All i typed was your first and last name and fb constantly changed what was tagged under your name... and I thought you were communicating with me bc when I searched things up about tagging and fb I couldn't find direct answers.

Anyways If you aren't scared of me, I'm sorry I lost myself. I guess I'll check your actual fb occasionally like once a month or something. Cause that never changes and generally that's all you have control over. Unless you want to untag and re-tag yourself which isn't realistic.

I feel like a fucking idiot.

Wake up by silverstein really fits right now. I can only imagine what you see when you look at me.

As of this moment i have this:

1) your pose change

2) the fact you haven't blocked me or rejected it- which could be a way to protect yourself from me...

3) it going from everyone to friends the day before i went to the brass mill mall.

4) it going from friends to everyone the day before i went to the west farms mall.

5) your bio and profile picture changing the day after I posted about your divorce from your ex husband and how it appears he left your daughters without a father. And I posted shape shift the day before.

99% of this could be circumstantial. I mean the pose the day you blocked me is a little hard to believe unless you're protecting yourself... I don't think it was circumstantial...

The friends to everyone and back I mean it could be a way to say I'm reading...

Either way my intentions were good and fb really played with me. You never did.

I hope you don't see a psychotic crazy guy you need to protect yourself from. I'm not coming for you. I wish you'd come for me though.

I don't expect anything from you. I never expect to see or hear from you again. I can only imagine how I look. Over here like this post changed. Omg you posted this. Christ I want to jump off a bridge.

The worse part is only bc I have psychosis am I beating myself up over it- I would have assumed you could control individually what shows up when someone searches you...

Yet that doesn't matter. I'm sorry I can only imagine what you see when you look at me.

I'm sure you think I'm a psychotic stalker. I'm sure you don't see me as the boy across the Webcam anymore. I'm sure at this point our eye contacts only means one thing to you- I don't see Nathan behind those eyes anymore.

I'm sorry you met me. I'm not sorry I met you. You're still a poem earth wrote to keep me alive. Although I'm sure I'll never hear from you.

"I saw the light, I went to hell

But the devil never looked my way"

"Flatlines now I've lost my tomorrow

I've paid the debt of the time I've been borrowing

Nothing can save me

There's nothing in the mirror

Now all I am is a dead reflection"

I'll assume you are protecting yourself and you think I'm insane.

All I am is a dead reflection- I went to hell (psychosis) but the devil didn't look my way- bc I only ever meant to love you even if loving you meant never knowing you.

I truly hope you're happy and I hope I didn't terrify you. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.

Goodbye Elise.

[canofhappy]

I posted 1,558 times in 2022

That's 1,239 more posts than 2021!

93 posts created (6%)

1,465 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/spoonietimelordy

@/bulkhummus

@/soundsfaebutokay

@/finleycannotdraw

@/hellenar-ts

I tagged 1,546 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 1,383 posts

#the amazing devil - 111 posts

#video - 100 posts

#undescribed - 92 posts

#artists on tumblr - 55 posts

#hap's happenings - 48 posts

#fanart - 48 posts

#hap’s happenings - 47 posts

#described - 41 posts

#no image id - 39 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#because in the carboniferous era there wasnt like. fungus that could break down the lepidodendrons (the trees all the rage at the time)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

sooo i couldn’t reblog the post i made talking about this, and idk if it’s polite or not to tag everybody who interacted with the og post?? here, i’m tossing this to the fandom with the disclaimer that it is not of ~quality~, it’s just me being Head Full Many Thoughts. love y’all <3

39 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#4

my party trick is being in fandoms where you have to think a bunch -- but the trick is i don’t think about the content at all and take it all at face value 😎

43 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#3

do you fellow TAD fans think that at the end of “welly boots” when there’s that repeated I know you’re strong enough / I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own where madeleine hyland comes in to wail + also repeat the sentence, do you think that’s the child’s mother? like what if both of this child’s parents died but their mum died first and that’s why her voice is fainter, but she still always believed her baby would be strong enough to face the world on their own?

109 notes - Posted September 27, 2022

#2

wild blue yonder: Those songs we sung, those words we flung / For fear of sound

inkpot gods: And what you hear is not silence

👀👀👀 anyone?

115 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

madeleine hyland and joey batey are geniuses. we as a fandom know this. but i just uncovered something about ruin (the song). so i was thinking about those piano covers done by “cress” on youtube, and they’re extremely talented, go check them out if you haven’t!! but i was wondering when they would post a cover of ruin, right? and it got me thinking.

i did piano for about two-ish years, enough that i can tell you use two hands for the backing track of ruin. then you’d have to have a third hand for madeleine’s initial melody. plus another for joey’s interjections.

DEAR HEARTS. YOU NEED TWO PEOPLE (four hands) TO PLAY RUIN ON THE PIANO. it’s exactly like the message of the song! you need four hands to complete the whole thing which can be messily connected to completing a relationship. because you need equal amounts of work to do it. ahhhh i think i did something.

344 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[galaxyostars]

I posted 600 times in 2022

That's 61 more posts than 2021!

37 posts created (6%)

563 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@generalfinnpoe

@ansonmountdaily

@hailfire-73

@911charactersofcolor

I tagged 42 of my posts in 2022

#sea patrol - 27 posts

#swain - 17 posts

#season 1 - 8 posts

#ro - 8 posts

#hmas hammersley - 8 posts

#buffer - 8 posts

#charge - 7 posts

#spider - 7 posts

#season 3 - 6 posts

#xo - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 109 characters

#but are still encouraging him to build an emphatic attitude suited to some of the situations they come across

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

See the full post

8 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

#4

Swain seeing RO freaking out then deciding to help him search his cabin for his antique scissors even though he's probably got 15,000 other things to do after breakfast only to discover that, once again, RO's suspicions are usually right.

8 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

#3

Guess who's now releasing music? This girl here.

Audacious Truths is the first track of 2022, proving to myself that I can, in fact, music.

You can catch first peaks of my music on SoundCloud -- such as my first Christmas comedy release, Feel the love this Christmas, a track all about staying home away from all the arguments at family Christmas gatherings.

13 notes - Posted December 10, 2022

#2

The Vampire Academy show did Mikhail Tanner dirty.

18 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Do you think Rupunzel understood the concept of aging?

Mother Gothel was using her hair to remain young and beautiful, basically looking exactly the same right up until her death. Do you think the concept of growing old and finally losing her parents took a toll on her?

60 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Ooooof. Sea Patrol got me good!

[ridleymocki]

does anyone know if tumblr still only tracks the first 5 tags? That used to be a thing.

I need to know if I should put my nonsense squealing at the end of tags so I can find things again or if I can just go right ahead with it first up.

[codywanbingo]

Bingo FAQs, Try 2

I realize I forgot some stuff in the first FAQ post, so here's a second round up of questions! (Sorry to everyone who's going to see this on all 4 blogs)

Did you get my Bingo request?

Probably! Everyone’s been so amazing that it’s hard to keep up with the email sometimes. If you’re concerned about whether or not your request made it through, feel free to drop an Ask or a Message and let me know. I can check that I got it and give you a general timeframe.

It’s been a few days and I haven’t gotten my card yet. Should I be worried?!

I said on the sign up to give us a few days! There’s 4 Bingos running right now and I’m mostly picking one Bingo a day and working through the backlog. Some don’t have the volume the others have.

There will be some days where I’m (main mod) going to be away from the internet during the summer but we have awesome people helping with the event and cards should still get created. They just may take some time to get emailed out. 

Are all cards 5x5 or can we choose our size?

The default size is 5x5. I’m thinking for some themes that they’ll have to be different sizes (and for some special events) so there may be 3x3 or 4x4 in the future. Those will be marked in the theme announcement so you know in advance they deviate from the 5x5 norm.

What if I still absolutely hate my Bingo card?

Send us a Message, or email.

What if I changed my mind on my theme after I got my card?

Send us a Message, or email.

Is there a procedure I should follow to switch out/move my prompts?

On the post where you are swapping out your prompt, please mention what your original prompt was (ie - “Tea”) and what you are switching it to (ie - “Coffee”). Mention if this is a prompt of your own or if you are swapping it with another prompt on your board. 

Please keep in mind if you are opting to swap out our prompts for yours to keep to the theme of your card.

What is the free space for?

Free space is a prompt of your choosing, so long as it matches your card. You still have to create something. It is not an instant, checked off square.

When do I have to submit my Bingo card?

You can submit your Bingo card whenever you want! Our submission form is set up for both prompt fills and also for Bingo submissions. If you’d rather fill out the form each time you do a fill so that we can track it on the back end better for you, cool, we can do that! If you’d rather send in your Bingo card at the end with all your links in one go? Also cool. Whatever works for you.

How do you confirm my Bingo?

Best question. I should have included this on the first round of FAQs. We ask on the Bingo (and Blackout) Submission forms for links and tags so we can check. If you post everything to AO3 and the Bingo collection, it makes things super easy. A lot of things can’t be posted to AO3, so if you’re posting to tumblr, we need to hunt a little (which is why we love @s and tags and links).

What disqualifies a Bingo?

Not a whole lot, really:

Not having an actual Bingo (a standard 5 across, 5 down, 5 diagonal). 

Breaking any of the rules (the NSFW under a cut is just a good habit and will NOT result in a disqualification if you forget). 

Swapping out more than 2 prompts for your own, or moving more than 2 prompts. 

For those of you with multiple cards: Trying to fill a RexObi prompt with a QuinObi card prompt (for example). 

Not having the ship (or pre-ship or queerplatonic relationship) match the name on the card. (Creating something RexObi for CodyWan and going “Cody’s in it for 5 whole words/seconds/in the background/is mentioned!” does not count.)

Not having a sufficient minimum requirement for content.

If your bingo fill does not match your card's theme.

Can I use a square prompt from another Bingo card to fill a prompt for this Bingo card?

Only if it’s not one of the four Bingos we’re running (QuinObi, RexOb, CodyWan, Codexwan). Otherwise, go crazy. If it is? It’s grounds for disqualification.

Where’s the AO3 collection?

Links to the collections: 

Quin/Obi-Wan Rex/Obi-Wan Codexwan Cody/Obi-Wan

But I have other questions!

We have an ask box! Come ask us anything!