#and the algorithm refuses to let me see just fandom stuff. and there's no good way to look for stuff that actually interests me

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Can- can I start one of those homoerotic love-hate one sided vendetta type relationships with Instagram

[strawberryamanita]

Alright, I gotta head this off at the pass. If you are feeling uneasy because of the new outrage directed at Mark, please consider giving this a read. I'm just one single schlub, but I know a thing or two about reacting on impulse because of my triggers, and I gotta throw my hat into the ring.

Okay.

I know about the Hospital game video. Very unsettling stuff, I can well imagine. As someone who can't handle graphic depictions of real-life events myself, I'm not going anywhere near the video. I also know now that the TikTok angry mob is looking to cancel him because he hasn't taken the video down as of the publishing of this post(July 11th, 2023, 10:52AM EST).

Y'all, I'm asking you, as a concerned fandom member, to please give Mark the benefit of the doubt. [He uploaded a video literally yesterday] talking about how busy and stressful things have been for him: he just lost his grandmother, he got sick, he gets injured frequently, he's in the middle of filming a movie that he had to take a break from because he was putting himself at risk for damaging his eyes, it just keeps going.

If you're outside the fandom and just having fun sending stray shots everywhere, please know that Mark is not gonna ignore all this when he's able to address it -- but that when is not right now. Mark and his editing team do a good job warning his viewers about common things like flashing lights and exceptionally gross imagery; this other video is a long way from the improvements the channel has made. 7 years ago feels less relevant than 1 day ago.

I'm pretty confident that Mark's not gonna refuse to delete the video because "Oh don't censor art" or whatever he's gonna get accused of. He, like I'm imagining a good deal of people were, was not aware of how real those images were, and it's probably not at the front of his mind because that video is buried under literally thousands of others on the channel. Mark's deleted videos before, he probably doesn't have a special attachment to this video or anything.

And, real quick, before you question why his editors won't just do it for him -- it's still his channel, I don't think he'd be cool with his editors making decisions about deleting things without running it by him.

All of this stemming from TikTok makes perfect sense, seeing how the fandom on tumblr was completely calm before the news was brought in from the outside. TikTok runs entirely on sensationalism and hype and clicks, and the eternal engine of Needing To Cancel Someone comes for us all one day. But I am asking you -- you, the person reading this, not the algorithm on TikTok -- to step back and think about this situation for yourself. No, I'm not just "defending a celebrity" and all that -- I'm trying to say that this uproar is being driven by very intense emotions drummed up by graphic content, and your nerves are probably shot by thinking about it all and I hear all of that. I've done impulsive things while triggered myself, you have all of my sympathy, none of this is to downplay the shockwave hitting you and others right now.

But Mark made a mistake.

Making a mistake does not make someone a bad person. It doesn't make you a bad person, it doesn't make me a bad person, and it doesn't make Mark a bad person.

Please don't keep yourself on constant duty to watch his every move and time how long he's been "ignoring" this on a stopwatch. Mark is known for pushing himself more than he should; the fact that he hasn't addressed this yet is a good sign that he has hit capacity levels of stress.

Let yourself breathe. Distance yourself from the video. Ask around on tumblr for their favorite lighthearted Markiplier videos, or just watch another YT'er if you need to get even further away from this. Prioritize your mental health today. You are going to be okay. This is all going to be okay.

Please let yourself believe that.

[mspainttaz]

Sell me on TMA i have all the time in the world rn by my executive dysfunction refuses to start things without help.

first off i really feel the struggle youre having here starting new things is. awful. i just cant tbh

okay: why to listen to TMA, under a cut because why not.

tldr? its good quality, low emotional investment is demanded of you to start due to the simple nature of its algorithm and the gradual story/world building, the writing is interesting and the episodes are short with good atmosphere. if spooky gets to you too badly, dont worry because theres a trigger warning list somewhere on the internet, and the writing is respectful.

tma selling points:

its good and consistent quality from the beginning. its a simple answer but honestly the hardest part of getting into new stuff FOR ME is the first few episodes where im Put Off by trying to understand this new tone, all while the creators are still figuring out what theyre doing which... makes for a rough start sometimes.

tma has a very simple algorithm. dude named jonathan sims is working at a place that collects peoples accounts of “possibly supernatural encounters”, he’s recording himself reading off the story, (or its a recording direct from the person), he tells you what research they’ve done on the subject, the end. here and there you get to hear about the stuff thats going on at the place jon works at, building a second layer of storytelling to the whole thing. its fun, its easy to listen to, and 

you dont have to get super invested right away. just turn on this podcast where they, in like idk twenty minutes?? tell you about something Scary that happened to Someone Else and that has no effect on you or your life but still has all the chilling atmosphere and Very good writing that makes it an enjoyable time. i mean YEAH it gets scarier and more personal later but by then youre ready for it.

this one is a personal note but, like, i get it. its intimidating seeing the fandom being So Passionate because it gives the message that you too!! have to gear up to get super into this wonderful fantastic compelling emotional heartbreaking story uwu. nothing wrong with fandom being passionate thats....... what its there for...... but that specifically has made it hard for me to get into new things before.

just let yourself enjoy it at your own pace tbh. i really enjoyed it before i got overwhelmed by fandom stuff and took a very long break but like. block all the tma tags, hit play,and have fun. thats my advice.

you get to hear someone try to sound spooky while reading off the required licencing info at the end of the podcast and its pretty funny but endearing

the writing is good. the voice acting is good. jonny sims knows his stuff and he really enjoys what he does and it comes out in what he creates.

if you dont like one or more of the stories/statements? look up the triggers list for the episodes to get mostly spoiler free warnings. or skip the statement part of the episodes you dont Vibe With and just listen to the bits at the end where you get to hear about jonathan sims and friends wacky adventures. yes the creator is named jon sims and the person he voices in this podcast is also named jon sims. sorry.

others have said this but i will too: its respectful horror. 

no sexual assault, misogyny, racism, able-ism, homophobia, etc is used as a punchline or as the shock factor. aka the main reason i dont care about the comedy or horror or... lots of other movie genres. its just not funny. literally the first statement that even mentions sex is this guy going “yeah we were both totally on board but she seemed to be going through some personal stuff and so i kept checking she was cool with it, i wanted to be respectful” and then cutaway to afterwards.

or like. theres a statement with a characters with a skin picking disorder WHICH is like. hm. a triggering topic for a lot of people but also my favorite statement there is. as someone with a skin picking disorder, i was Not Expecting to have to confront This Subject and so was a little taken aback at first like. no one talks about this stuff yanno. but i personally didnt find it disrespectful, or misinformed, or too triggering. which. idk man good for jonny for making that Work.

executive dysfunction hates starting new things like oil and water so if you dont listen to it because your brain simply is Not ready to lease space to a new podcast yet? thats cool too. if you do though i hope you enjoy it because its a good podcast and it makes you think which like, right now? i think we could all use more stuff in our lives that keeps our brains active and thinking. 

[unnecessary-database]

Let’s talk about Supergirl fanfiction for a second.

Not the stuff you see fandom creators write. I’m talking in-universe, National City citizens writing Supergirl fanfics like their bloody lives depend on it. It’s an art form.

It starts with an elementary school writing contest one fall. Supergirl’s been out for maybe like six or seven weeks. Little girls everywhere are enamoured. Adults are hesitant. You know she didn’t make the biggest and cleanest saves at first.

But there’s a prompt “what would you say to your hero, and what would they say to you?” and this little eleven year old knocked it out of the park. It happened to be that eleven year old, Laura, who Kara rescued from bullying when she was dressed like Supergirl. Kara told her she looked cool and said she was friends with all the nice girls.

Laura wrote one heck of an essay. Her teacher submitted it to the contest run by the mayors office. And it won. And a couple newspapers published it. Suddenly everyone had read Laura’s essay about what she would say to Supergirl and what Supergirl would say to her.

And then someone from CatCo’s account (it wasn’t Winn, Winn insisted) “what would YOU say to Supergirl if you could?” And it was all downhill from there.

It begins with single tweets. “You’re doing great sweetie!” “Seriously, what’s your workout regimen??” “Can you take me flying, pretty please with a cherry on top?” Questions about Kryptonian physique and culture. Thanking her for being an inspiration to girls everywhere.

And then someone had a whole thread about it. They were a bit of a fan. They went a little overboard. All in the name of good fun! It was intentionally ridiculous. But they asked Supergirl hypothetically what she liked to do in her free time. It spiraled into “And that is how Supergirl became my girlfriend.”

It was pretty bad. People laughed. It became a meme. Whenever someone said something particularly outrageous, you could count on a teenager to reply with “Yeah, and that’s how Supergirl became my girlfriend”. It was great.

But then word started spiraling around that someone had written like, an actual Supergirl fanfiction. (“What do you mean actual?” Alex hissed, and Winn definitely did not consider jumping off CatCo’s roof.) and they had posted it online.

It was about becoming friends with Supergirl. People clicked on it hesitantly only to see that it was like, an actual comic. Short. Genuine. It truly captured her essence. It was very sweet and non-presumptuous and the writer, once tracked down, was offered a job by a prestigious comic company.

Well, the next person that wanted to write a story about Supergirl saving them wasn’t so platonic in their intentions. Nor could they draw. And then there was a page full of Supergirl fanfictions.

And then it grew.

A year after saving the plane, there were 1864 fanfictions and counting. They seemed to multiply every day. There was a special page dedicated to them, like AO3 but all for her.

Plenty were sweet and full of kid-obvious typos. Tons took a stab at what her day job would be and how she hid herself. Many guesses she just chilled at the Fortress of Solitude. There were hundreds of reveal fics, varying from “my best friend was secretly Supergirl the whole time” to “She took me to her house to interrogate me”. And those are just the ones on the safe for work page.

A DEO agent is tasked with reading them all before Winn writes an algorithm to make sure her identity is truly safe. This DEO agent oscillates between hating their job violently and cackling madly every time they see Supergirl do something that reminds them of a fic.

Alex refuses point-blank to look this agent in the eye unless she is threatening them.

[marvelmymarvel]

Hi just submitted a request and also I was just wondering if you have any tips for new writers on starting a blog and such?

Hello!! I got your request and I am excited to write it! It's very specific and if that means your 20th birthday is coming up then HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! Now for the tips... (Aka things I wish I knew before starting this blog!)

Long post ahead so read if you want to know how I set up my stuff and some advice for beginning a writing blog <3

Story Setup and Ideas:

When starting a writing blog, begin writing for one fandom that you are truly passionate about. For me, it was Band of Brothers at the time which is why my blog is heavy with it. Now, I am a multi-fandom blog and knew I would be when I began and if you would like to be multi one day as well don't be afraid of starting small. It's best to start small and with one fandom so you don't feel overwhelmed.

Now that you have your one fandom, find your favorite character or characters and write!! Heres how I write a story:

Figure out the idea, this can come from a moment with a friend, something I saw, or a song I heard. Once this idea is in your head write it down!! I have papers full of ideas and when I get in the mood I will refer back to them.

Figure out the pairing. This should come with the first part but sometimes I don't know exactly WHO I want it to about so play around with the scenes in your head. Who is the reader kissing? Who fits with this song??  Who would fit the feel of this scene? Those are some of the questions I ask myself if I don't know a pairing.

Set up the post. This is something I wish I did in the first part of my blog as it took a long time to fix every post so they look the same. Heres how I have them set up and feel free to use or take from this setup for yourself <3. With the Text Post option:

Title

Pairing (Bolded and with the header size)

Synopsis: It was a rainy day in the park but he kept her warm inside.

Trigger Warnings: Blood (This isn’t needed if you have no warnings but you can have it anyway and just put none)

Song: Song Title - Artist (Link: ---------) (Again, not needed unless you have a song that you wish for people to listen to)

A/n: (Finally the authors note, again, it's not needed but I like to talk a lot lol)

Gif/Banner/Etc (Heres where I add a gif of the character I’m writing for or something else that kicks off the story and drags people in. If it's not your gif, either credit the owner if you can find them or simply say its not your gif. I just now began doing this as I have a lot of gifs that I obviously didn’t create and I want to credit them)

Story (Here I like to put a keep reading after a paragraph that is sure to bring a reader in. Your goal is to make them click that ‘keep reading’ option)

Tags: (If you have people that want to be tagged, add them here) 

Hashtags: #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky Barnes imagine #bucky Barnes imagines (Basically for your hashtags at the end, make as many as you can but do not, I repeat DO NOT tag a character that is not important. For instance, if you are writing a story for bucky x reader and the reader has no important ties to steve do not include him. If there was a love triangle in which a reader will read both, then it is alright. Don't clickbait, that's all we ask ;) Adding to that, go ahead and just tag the character itself as well as the fandom!!)

That's how I set up my stories but I would like to let all the baby blogs know that Tumblr has this weird thing called an algorithm, and it sucks. You will not see your post show up on any of those tags for at least 48 hours. Once you post multiple things to that tag or they have ruled that you are not a bot then your stuff will show up. This was a stressor so I hope this knowledge calms you down :)

If you have a hard time with scenarios, ask for ideas!!!

Make rules if you are accepting ideas and don’t be afraid to turn down requests you don’t like/feel comfortable with. It will not alert the user that you deleted their ask so do not feel bad!

Stick to your rules and make sure your blog is a healthy and safe environment.

Once you are ready to move on to more fandoms, go ahead and try it out. If it becomes too much cut it back down. Also, don't be afraid to move away from the fandom you started in. Sadly, I am not as ‘intrigued’ with BOB like I once was. That doesn't mean you won't occasionally write for your beginning fandom but tastes change. 

Do what makes YOU happy.

MENTAL HEALTH SECTION:

Because mental health is real and I want all of my baby blogs to be happy, I’m going to let you know some tips and tricks to stay calm.

Remember, this is a blog and you are able to step away for as long as you need if things get stressful.

Remember that the faithful and caring followers will stick around and support you no matter what. You aren’t alone and you don’t owe anyone anything.

I have like 5 requests in my inbox and I know that those who requested know I will get to it but if I don't, I don't. They will not attack me. 

Any follower who attacks you should be reported and blocked immediately. Never let someone make you feel trapped.

When you feel burned out (we have all been there and I still am) do not push yourself. If you are only able to do one story a month then that's okay. Even one story a year is alright, just don't feel like you have to deliver. Your personal life and wellbeing come first. 

If you feel like one of your stories is shit, know that you are putting yourself down and do not delete it. I have one story that has 0 likes and never has that ever happened to me, but I refuse to take it down because I like it. 

Writing should be your escape, not your jail cell. (Something I had to tell myself a lot last year and I wish someone told me)

If you feel stressed and want your followers to know that you’re doing alright just need some time then post a lovely message to your Tumblr and call it good. Most likely, you’ll get messages and comments hoping that you feel better, those are the best followers.

Personal Safety Section:

So my moms a correctional nurse (Aka a nurse at a jail) and she is very protective of me being on the internet. That being said here are some tips I have for you to be safe (Again feel free to ignore some or agree to all, these are just my beliefs and I do not shame anyone who doesn't follow them!):

DO NOT GIVE OUT YOUR REAL NAME UNLESS YOU KNOW YOU CAN TRUST SOMEONE. The name I have on my blog is VERY similar to my real name but for safety reasons, I don't go by my real name. Only like 2 followers know my real name and even then it took a while before I said it. 

DO NOT POST A PICTURE OF YOURSELF: God I sound like a boomer, but really you shouldn’t just up and post a picture of yourself unless you really want to. I have thought about posting a pic but thought “Yeah no...”

DO NOT GIVE OUT YOUR ADDRESS/CITY/STATE: I have only ever said on my blog that I am in the midwest of the US, but that's it. Never ever give anyone your address/city or your state. 

DO NOT GIVE OUT OTHER INFORMATION ABOUT YOURSELF: This can include your school, age (if below 18 because of predators), phone number (unless a friend that you trust), etc. 

BE CAREFUL. When someone messages you, don't be afraid to chat but if things feel fishy stop responding and block the person. 

Okay, my mother side is done ranting... Just be careful kiddos. As a certified adult, I can say that the internet is scary and that as a teenager (a whole year ago) I did stupid shit... So if you are a teen (Especially below 18) just be careful and think before posting anything personal. If you have any other questions or comments, go ahead and let me know. I am open ears. Also dear anon, please tell me this blog when you get started, I’d like to follow you :)

[olicitysecretsanta]

Worth Fighting For

This fluffy semi-canon fic is for you Liz @trippin-over-my-fandoms by @tangled23works!

It’s been a pleasure to write this story even though I’m sure it’s not exactly what you had in mind. I promise, however, there is a method to my madness. Hope you’ll enjoy it! Merry Christmas!

Summary : Oliver has a devious plan in order to charm his wife after a stupid fight. Meanwhile, Felicity may have been blind to the obvious.

Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

Word count : 2217

***

The fight had started innocently enough. Oliver had made a rather self-deprecating comment which Felicity now couldn’t even remember and she had exploded like a bomb. A year’s worth of repressed emotions and negative thoughts had violently burst out of her like a swollen river. She had blamed him for things that he had honestly thought they had put behind them with all the drama that happened last year. She had accused him of having one foot out the door, always thinking of ways to leave her like her father. That comparison had hurt him more than anything else. In other words, she had had a major freakout. In her loud voice. 

To top it all off, she had banished her poor husband out of the room. Oliver for his part had accepted her decision, looking stoic as always. His eyes, however, his beautiful, blue eyes that never failed to pull her in had given away his inner turmoil. In a calm and collected manner, he had obeyed her wishes and slept on the couch. 

The morning after, Felicity had woken up on the verge of tears. The huge Christmas tree in the empty living room seemed to mock her. William was still in Cambridge and she missed him terribly.

Feeling desolate and alone, she had made a cup of coffee and had been considering the best way to apologize to Oliver when her phone beeped. Sighing, she unlocked the screen thinking that it would probably be her husband checking on her when she noticed that he had sent her not a message but an email with an attached photo. Intrigued, she downloaded the attachment while shaking her head at the fact that Oliver was incapable of using imessage or messenger or any other app more advanced that good ol’ regular gmail. 

At first she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Did Oliver send her spam?

The moment she turned the device sideways, however, she figured it out. The sneaky vigilante knew that she had a thing for his arms so he had sent her a picture of him flexing his biceps. She couldn’t see his face but she figured out that he was training at the Foundry 2.0, shirtless. It took a few minutes of daydreaming about her husband’s arms around her, caging her in, protecting her before she realized what the photo meant. Oliver was fighting for her, for them, in his own weird way.

Felicity sighed again - a much more satisfied sigh this time - and poured her awful coffee down the sink. The thing had tasted like dirt. Well, she had actually never eaten dirt on purpose but the coffee was dry and stale, hence the dirt analogy. She looked into the empty mug, worriedly. It was as if someone had drowned a cigarette in there. The thought upset her stomach so much that she made sure to stay out of the kitchen and as far away from coffee as possible for the rest of the morning.

At 2 pm, her phone beeped again. Felicity almost tripped in her haste to reach it. Feeling restless and on edge, she opened the attachment and moaned out loud. Her devious husband was shirtless and glistening with sweat on this one. Granted, all she could see was his glorious, scarred back and muscular shoulders but it was enough to make her flush all over. She bit her lip and felt the need to literally fan herself. If he was trying to woo her he was doing a damn good job of it. She ended up woolgathering for a ridiculous amount of time considering that she usually had the actual man in front of her and could stare to her heart’s content, before an unwelcome thought hit her. She furiously typed one simple question.

Who took this picture Oliver? 

His reply came a few seconds later, though it felt like an eternity to her.

Dig. I promised that we would never EVER mention it to anyone. 

Felicity giggled like a freaking schoolgirl at the thought of big, mean Spartan taking candid photos of the fearsome Green Arrow to help him win his wife over.

I also had to give him my precious Starling Rockets vs New York Yankees tickets. 

Aww, you must really love me.

She added several heart emojis to the last message just to tease him. Oliver didn’t reply but she could picture him grumbling to Dig, complaining about her inability to share his love for the Rockets and baseball in general. Happy to miss the diatribe that would surely follow - her husband was surprisingly eloquent when it came to sports - Felicity focused on writing the algorithm for her new and improved security system. It had been a month since the last update and she had work to do.

She had created the system last year after the Lizard’s attack (she refused to call him the Dragon, it was a matter of principle) and she was proud of it. Apart from providing protection for her family, the system had made her famous among tech companies. Several of the biggest names in the tech world had hired her and decided to trust her technology in the months that followed. Including a certain Mr. Dennis, current CEO of PalmerTech, but Felicity had graciously declined that offer. 

She was deeply engrossed in coding the next time the phone beeped. Felicity took a deep breath and refused to hurry, stretching instead to relieve the pressure from her sore back. Let Oliver worry for a few minutes. He wanted to break her resistance but she would not give in that easily. He had to work harder to change her mind. Although to be honest if he was naked in this one, she would definitely fold like a cheap deck of cards. But there was no way that her husband would risk sending a naked pic online. Not with all the Green Arrow media frenzy that followed his every move. Surely she had taught him better than that. Right? Right? 

Okay, now she was officially freaking out.

Felicity grabbed the phone and considered it for a moment. This thing was a bigger threat to her sanity than evil doppelgangers from Earth X. It was more potent than any guilty pleasure she could ever dream of. More potent than molten lava chocolate cake, more compelling than Oliver’s authentic Italian tiramisu, more powerful than creamy raspberry cheesecake… Trying to focus, she stared at the damn device as if it was the enemy.

Felicity huffed in annoyance. She was being utterly ridiculous and it was all her husband’s fault. She proceeded to download the photo and reminded herself that she was made of stronger stuff. She would not cave no matter what. 

“Oh my God!”

The good news was that Oliver was not naked. The bad news was that it was worse. Way worse. He was actually standing in front of the mirror, wearing his tuxedo (including the jacket and an unraveled bow tie) but he had left the shirt unbuttoned all the way down. The suspenders were hanging down making the whole outfit more sexy if that was possible. Adding insult to injury, he had taken a selfie. Not of his face. That would have been too kind. Of his gorgeous abs. 

Felicity enlarged the photo, staring at it, slack-jawed. The sight of his out of this world eight-pack abs caused her toes to curl like they described in romance novels.

“That’s it. I’m gonna kill him this time.”

She heard the front door open before she could finish plotting her nefarious revenge schemes. She couldn’t hear a sound but she knew who it was. There was only one person in Star City who could be so stealthy, moving silently like a ninja.

Felicity turned towards him steeling her spine. As soon as she came face to face with the source of her frustration though she felt her resolution crumble. He looked good enough to eat. Pun intended.

“You’re still wearing your tux!” she accused in a high-pitched voice.

“I know.”

He took one tiny step forward.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

Another step.

“Even if I’m not sure why.”

“I know.”

Another step.

“Oliver, I have no idea what’s going on with me. First, I get so mad that I want to throw stuff at you. Then, I get so horny I want to jump you as soon as you get home. And now, I feel…”

“What? Tell me, Felicity.”

He had almost reached her when he paused, waiting for her answer.

“I feel like crying. Which is unfair because I don’t know why I feel that way. And my coffee tastes like dirt and my back hurts and I’m miserable all the time,” she whined.

Felicity narrowed her eyes when she noticed her husband’s sly smile. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m smiling,” he corrected, “because I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You do?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded and another softer smile adorned his stupidly handsome face.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Why?”

“Because the moment I tell you, you’re gonna freak out. Because I’m worried you’re not ready for this. Felicity, I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you.”

It was her who covered the remaining distance in the end. 

“Oh, Oliver,” she whispered. “You’re not gonna lose me.”

He looked down, avoiding her gaze.

Felicity took his arms and placed them around her waist. She had to stand on her toes and lean her head back to meet his eyes but it was worth it.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I know I’m behaving like a hormone-crazed teenager at the moment but I swear that you’re not gonna lose me. No matter what.”

He shrugged and didn’t comment.

Felicity put her lips against his. Not kissing him, just that silly thing they sometimes did where they whispered their thoughts against each other’s lips.

“I’m glue, baby. Remember?”

His eyes lit up brighter than their Christmas tree at the reminder. 

“Hi,” he whispered, tenderly.

Felicity caressed the back of his neck adoring the way his scruff felt against her face. They had been through so much and they would probably go through a lot more in the future. But it was okay as long as they had each other. 

“Oliver?” she murmured.

He gave her a slow, wicked smile.

“Why are you wearing your tux? Is it because I got mad at you?”

“No.”

“Because it’s Christmas and you thought that I deserve a present?” she asked hopefully.

“You deserve all the presents. But no.”

“Then why? Are we celebrating anything today?”

She played with his hair while he mulled over his reply.

“Felicity,” he said at last, sounding gentle and unsure, “I think that you’re going to give me the best present of my life in a few months.”

Her eyes which had previously closed because of the safety of his warm embrace, flew open.

“No,” she denied.

Oliver stroked her back smoothly.

“Really?” she asked, unnerved.

“Yes.” 

“How can you know?” To say that she was feeling overwhelmed by the idea would be an understatement.

“Trust me. I know.”

The look in his eyes… In that moment, Felicity would have done anything to keep him looking at her like this forever. Like she was the one constant in his life that would never change. Like she was his anchor. Like she had wrapped the world and offered it to him as a gift.

And that was the thought that broke through her panic. Because Oliver was her anchor as well. He had given her the world from the first moment he had walked in her cubicle and trusted her with his life as the Hood. She might have doubted many things during the past year but she had never, not once, doubted his love for her. And she knew unequivocally, deep in her bones that he would always cherish their child.

“I trust you,” she breathed. 

To an outsider it might have seemed like she was replying to his earlier comment but Oliver understood. She was giving him back something she had kept locked since he had first lied to her about his son. She was giving him back a piece of her heart that she had desperately tried to keep safe.

They got lost in each other for a while, both misty-eyed but beaming.

“Do you think we’ll be good parents?” he said out of the blue. “I mean, William is already a teenager but with the life we lead, it might not always be possible for us to be there for this little one.”

“Then our child will grow up knowing that we did everything we could to protect him. He’ll know that his parents loved him even if we’re not there to show him.”

“Her,” he corrected.

Felicity tried to raise an eyebrow and failed.

“Her?”

“She’s a girl,” he announced in what Felicity called ‘his mayoral voice’. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

She shook her head in amusement. Girl or boy she had no doubt that her child would grow up loved.

“Best Christmas ever,” she declared, feeling happiness suffuse every molecule of her being.

And as Felicity rested her head on her husband’s chest, she realized that they were slow dancing without music.

[wanderingandfound]

Suicide cw (I'm fine I just can't sleep, cw is about somebody else).

Meant to go to bed at 10 and let this be a day I did pretty much nothing but feel sick.

Was on track to go to bed at midnight and opened up the package from the new-ish mail pharmacy to see a fucking ad about portion control. Went to unsubscribe from ads and the site glitches. I'm mad now. Take my meds at 12:11.

I'm mad so I try to distract myself by playing Two Dots and listening to the newest episode of F@tT. Admit that this is not helping me sleep.

Try reading some one shot fic in a fandom I don't really care about. Finish that one and try to find another but I'm not really feeling it. (The search features a canonically suicidal character and the attempts come up in the fic. I don't think this is going to affect me.)

It's 1 AM.

Get some half-remembeted lyrics stuck in my head. Look them up, get the band. Put that band and another and "sleep" into 8tracks. Scroll through and choose one that isn't labeled "SAD SAD SAD" or depressed or heartbreak. The first song so happens to be the one in my head, what a neat coincidence/stroke of fate. The next song starts playing. I shut it off. I'm thinking of someone I was *briefly* Twitter mutuals with and later found out they ended their life. I'm thinking of them. Before we were mutuals they had purged their AO3 of everything they had written and all the comments they had left and deleted their Twitter account. They created a new Twitter account and I followed them there and they followed me back and we talked about our fandom a couple of times. I didn't realize they had deactivated until much later. They may have come back and deactivated again I don't remember. Found out many months later from another Twitter mutual that they had taken their life. I barely barely knew them but it still makes me so sad. (I don't know if they ever had a tumblr. When you search their name here one secret santa gift comes up. If you go to that person's blog you see other secret santa works from that year in that fandom. One of these is an 8tracks mix. Probably because I refuse to update the app and get ads, my 8tracks app forgets my recent history. And has my last played mix as that one from the secret santa event.)

Write this all up on tumblr. Now it's 1:30 AM. So fucking late.

I need to put my phone down and sleep but I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. I found out the Twitter mutual died quite some time ago, but I'm still so sad. And long before they took their life they purged the art the created and the conversations they had from the intenet.

I've never been good with the ephemeral.

Ff.net is dying. Twitter has been sabotaged. People are deleting their art from DeviantArt due to AI. An algorithm came through Tumblr and purged it of so much stuff deemed adult. Tumblr loses millions of dollars every year.

[thelittlepalmtree]

I feel like so often I'm just living a completely different existence from other people. Because like I am chronically online in that I spend a ton of my life online. But also I go to a lot of effort to expose myself two opinions that are outside of my like algorithm. Like I'm very curious about what other people are saying and I watch popular things that I don't really like all the time because I love hate watching things. So like I saw a ton of Southpark even though I hate it. I've seen a ton of Family Guy even though I hate it. Which I know a lot of people are like well that's not exactly news and I do look at news that I consider to be reliable but it is a little bit more on the the New York Times and stuff like that. But I think in exposing myself to popular culture that I don't agree with I get a lot of different opinions. And then on top of that I do exist in the real world and a lot of the people in my job because I work in education are what I think of as like the most normal people on the planet. Like I don't know how to describe this but like teachers are incredibly normal. Except for some of us. I feel like if you wanted to understand what US citizens are thinking you would just need to Pole teachers about any issues other than education.

But by that same token there are also a ton of things that I just refuse to be interested in because for whatever reason is just not my thing. Like I avoid most dramas unless they are based on historical events because I hate the format of Dramas are so frustrating to me. And I don't read fanfiction because I have a lot of trouble actually focusing long enough to read or not letting a piece of writing take over my entire life for a couple of days until I finish it. So fanfiction is kind of like if it's bad I'm never going to get through it and if it's good I'm never going to be able to put it down and then I'm going to neglect my life. So generally I just don't start it. And I do read books in that I listen to audiobooks but I also don't do that very often so when I do pick a book I want it to be worth my time and investment so I'm less likely to be able to just like read a terrible book for the sake of reading it. Which means I almost never read books by male authors I think the only male author that I read consistently is Neil Gaiman. If I'm looking into a new book it's definitely going to be a female author. If it's boring or if the audiobook isn't good I will have to stop reading it because I'm never going to be able to get through it.

And I would say my most toxic trait is that I love drama is specially when I have no idea who the people in the situation are. Like I have never followed the beauty Community or the YouTube Community in my entire life like I watch Jenna Marbles in high school but other than that I don't really use YouTube that often. But I follow so much YouTube drama I have no idea what these people are posting I don't have any interest in them at all. But if Tricia said something about Jeffrey I need to know. And it's the same thing about other communities I am so interested in analysis A fanfiction but I don't really read fanfiction I haven't read fanfiction a long time. I want to know what's going down in the Supernatural fandom I haven't been in Supernatural since I was in high school. Whenever I see a call Outpost I'm like freaking Sherlock Holmes trying to figure out if this is legit and whose side I need to be on I don't know who these people are. So like I get all of this adjacent Knowledge from my love of drama.

And I feel like that creates a perfect storm of like me not finding a lot of people's annoyances really relatable. Because I feel like a lot of people are in the same cloud and I'm like in all these different clouds and there are some clouds that I'm never in that other people are always in. And then sometimes I'm like sitting outside the cloud listening in picking some things up but I'm not actually in that cloud.

Maybe I'm not different and maybe this is something that a lot of people think about themselves. But I just feel like I'm not really indoctrinated in any particular thing and I'm not really extreme on any particular beliefs or opinions. I'm passionate but I'm not extreme. And so it's kind of like I'm always sort of taking things back a step. And if you look at some of my like most contentious posts it telling somebody else to like take it back a notch because what they're saying is not really true. Even if I agree with them on the overall issue I'll be like yes we should have a b and c but also like that thing that you said is not true and you shouldn't be spreading that. Like the thing that worries me the most is how blindly devoted people are these days to a certain way of thinking and then the ethics of like the information you're spreading to prove your point becomes nonexistent. Like this came up a lot when the 2020 election was happening and I was telling everybody that they need to vote and a lot of people are like what I'm not going to vote because our country is awful and I don't believe in borders and the government isn't legitimate. And it was like okay you can believe that the country was founded on racism in imperialism but also take material action to make it better and this is like the most effective way to do that. And I'm hoping that in swing states there are less people like that because I live in a blue State and I think ultimately a lot of the people I was talking to know that whether or not they vote the potentially right outcome is going to happen. But that level of extremism really made me uncomfortable that people were like well racism so I'm just not going to participate. And I can talk more about how like you are participating whether you realize it or not. But I also think there's a huge problem with like not stepping out of your own algorithm in your own cloud because you refused to listen to anyone who even slightly disagrees with you. Where is like personally I go to Great Lengths to listen to those people even though they annoy me because I want to tell them that they're wrong and counter their points.

And I feel like it also helps me to see where other people's implicit biases I'm not saying that I don't have a bias but I'm saying like I can spot someone else's pretty well. Like I'm definitely a person who argues the premise. I got so frustrated and philosophy courses because part of what I was taught was that you had to just like agree with the premise and I never did I was like your whole argument is nothing because your premises are all wrong. So I just feel like a lot of what gets put out there even if I agree with the overall idea that is being supported is just wrong. Like our entire way of thinking about political action especially on the left is to me just straight-up bonkers. And methods and material action are so often neglected it's crazy. Because people are so indoctrinated in this idea of like right and wrong that they've created for themselves on the internet. And it makes it impossible for you to like experience anything outside of that very limited moral View. And unfortunately this is a big problem in fandom as well because you have all of this moral judgment on everyone and this is literally an amoral situation. Like there are things that are morally neutral and fandom is usually one of them. And you see how blindly people are willing to condemn something because it mentions or doesn't completely conform to a morality that exist almost completely online. And I think that just like anger is me more than anything else because I just don't see things that way because I find like myself in all these different groups. And I like to start a flit around without Judgment of all these other things and every time you try to go somewhere you end up in a judgemental space. And people are justifying all of these horrible things that they say to other human beings over literally the least important shit in the universe.

[cosmosogler]

i just made myself sick from holding in laughter. good times. ninja sex party always gets me right here.

ok so after ping’s delightful impromptu 5-am door-slamming and yodeling concert i barely got any sleep and i had the kind of dreams i get when i nap for too long. which is to say, terrifying and horrible in every way.

at the end i was... on a coaster i end up at sometimes. usually it’s a gentle enough ride that my gramma rides it for some reason, even though it tends to dump you out in a field of tall dead grass and you have to hike back to a wooden structure. when you try to climb the structure the people on the platforms try to push you back down by kicking you in the face.

but this time the coaster was super off. i didn’t like it. and the tracks were made of like, sinew. it was still pink and bloody. then the tracks just ended and i crashed straight into the ground with my face. i got mad but i wasn’t hurt too bad. that happened next!!! the operator appeared. for some reason i got really strange and really strong deja vu. then everyone started melting. i watched the girl next to me explode into goop. then my arm fell off. then the rest. i screamed.

i ended up getting up late again... but still 20 minutes earlier than yesterday. despite going to bed an hour earlier. cool!!!!!

i got over to campus on time though. josie and i waited for our classmates to get out of class, but then nobody came to the “lounge,” so we just went to eat tacos by ourselves. it was cinco de mayo so they had margarita deals. we didn’t drink alcohol though. i paid for josie’s meal because she was broke. i had a good time. we talked about The Gay and depression and stuff.

then i hung out in the department for another two-ish hours. i wanted to talk to dr. cole, but he was teaching and then left. and there was an alum who wanted to talk to him so i let him go instead. and i talked to michael, who is doing well. he replaced me as the si for the intro physics course. these past few months would have been a lot more guilt-ridden and miserable if he hadn’t stepped in for me. i am impressed and grateful that he took on so much work.

i gave bradley the rest of my burrito (since i only managed half as usual) and went to sort out my tuition refund. the guy gave me paperwork and answered a bunch of questions. i’m gonna have to get doctors’ notes so i will start with my physician when i see her sometime next week. he said i got until 2018 to complete and turn it in so it is less stressful now.

then i went home because no one was in the lounge and i was tired. i watched adventure time for a while. i assume the next series of steven universe episodes got leaked because my youtube suggestions were FILLED WITH SPOILERS. EVERYWHERE!!! i had to mark all of them as “not interested” so hopefully youtube’s algorithm would get the hint. at least it stopped recommending family guy finally.

and i made my veggie bacon for dinner. i didn’t figure out how to cook it in a way that didn’t turn it to charcoal until the last few pieces but that was ok. it made me kind of ill. i watched some pokemon videos until maranda got back. that’s why i wasn’t laughing out loud. 

i keep looking at adventure time clips trying to find one that could get asher interested in the show. but i know that won’t happen and i shouldn’t try to have everything in common with one friend. i just really want someone to talk to about it that i already know because talking to random strangers about tv shows i like is stressful. it’s harder to get a read on their interest. and starting a new network of friends based around one common interest is difficult and time consuming for me, with no guaranteed payoff. at least with people i used to hang out with because of one shared interest i already know now so like, it’s not like getting to know an entire new group. and meeting friends of friends, at least i got some kind of lifeline, so it’s a little less awkward to introduce myself. it’s not out of the blue “let’s launch into a detailed analysis of this tv show, whoever you are!”

when i tried to join the homestuck fandom as a regular poster, my dog died like a week later, and i was too depressed to strengthen those relationships and they disintegrated extremely quickly. i think that was about when i withdrew from fandoms altogether. 

i guess... if asher or one of my other friends was super into adventure time, at least as much as i am, it wouldn’t feel like i’m wasting their time when i start talking about it because i can’t hold my thoughts in my head any more. they fall out and it doesn’t matter who’s around. i was telling my mom’s friend about it one summer because i was spending a lot of time around the office she worked at. 

i don’t like having that little control over what i talk about. like while i was so excited about one thing, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t relevant to the person i was talking to. what happens if i feel like that around my parents? is that why i got dad to watch the show in the first place? i know he likes it NOW, and i thought he would like it, but... 

did i expect to be able to talk about it with him? the one time i tried to bring up some theme analysis to him he said he doesn’t look that much into it so i stopped and just made references to the jokes sometimes instead. he seems to like that better. the last episode we watched was “you forgot your floaties” which is really plot heavy and dad actually got bored. and commented that it wasn’t very funny. i haven’t shown him another episode since, even though season 7 gets really good again and season 8 has been actually my favorite so far i think. season 6 is the low point for the show and we got right to the end of it and i stopped asking to watch it... and he never ever brings it up himself. i guess it would be easier to get a handle on his enthusiasm if he asked to watch it even like once a month. but these last few months i’ve been so unhappy with him that i just don’t want to sit and enjoy something we both like with him any more. and at the times i would usually ask he’s busy screaming at league now so i don’t feel comfortable even being in the room. because he likes to swear and punch his desk before he looks at me if i say hi or need to ask a question while he’s playing.

i don’t know... i liked having that thing in common with dad. the only cartoons he liked before that were, like, transformers and family guy. and old voltron i guess, he talked about it once when he heard about the remake. and he buys me jake shirts sometimes. but now i don’t like having it in common with him i guess? i have made no effort to be on better terms with him since he told me i needed to get a job before i was even feeling any better back in february. mostly because it was redundant and all it actually told me was that he thought i was being a bum when i literally couldn’t eat solids.

he and mom are always on about, “if you’re sick, you shouldn’t do anything you enjoy or else you’re faking being sick. when you’re sick all you’re allowed to do is rest and do nothing.” except when you’re not allowed to rest any more (regardless of whether or not you are still sick). 

i guess. feeling entitled to positive encouragement is a flaw of mine. my parents are the “if you’re doing your job then no one needs to comment. if you’re not doing your job you should get fired” types. and also “if you have one luxury item/are not devoting all hours of every day to improving your situation (regardless of whether or not the situation is actually improving) you are not really in need of help.”

but there’s... a difference between being entitled to the “everyone gets a trophy” idea and being positivity-starved. even big achievements, like placing well in the statewide math competition in grade school or getting all a’s, are brushed aside as “you did the job you were supposed to so it should be invisible and smooth.” i started doing competitions without any aids or tools that we were allowed to use because anything other than just you and your brain was “cheap.” i placed very badly in those competitions. then i lost my confidence and my grades also dropped.

if i got a single b it would be time for a serious discussion and grounding from any socialization until my grade improved. so there was only fear motivating me.

i mean, it’s not technically “necessary” to motivate with the guaranteed reward/punishment. it’s just, my reward was usually “you are allowed to talk to your friends” or “here is dinner. you have to eat it all or else you will sit here for hours until the plate is clean.” and sometimes my parents would prepare a “surprise reward” for me and then take it away upon getting home and finding out i had messed up in some way, when i didn’t know they were even planning on ever getting the thing i had asked for. they would do that with car trips too. pack me and my sister in the car whether or not we wanted to go anywhere and not tell us where we were going. and then when i got frustrated they would take away the “surprise reward.” 

i mean yeah, one time i messed up really bad watching my brother 10 years ago because he said some really hurtful things and i refused to interact with him while my parents were out one day. then he did a bunch of dangerous stuff while i wasn’t looking because i was busy crying.

hnngnngnghhhhg. i was trying to explore why i don’t feel close to dad any more and why feeling close to him in the first place was a mistake. i only ever felt nostalgia before i went to high school. the moment i realized my life sucked, and had always sucked, i never wished for “simpler times” or “the good old days.” 

come to think of it, i don’t feel close to a lot of people any more, and i should not have been close with them in the first place in all honesty. i didn’t have a lot of options. i have slightly more options now, provided i got the energy to spare. i got lucky with this physics department. i only actively disliked, like, two of my classmates. one of them was a creepazoid and the other one is kind of unfair to her. she ain’t done nothing to me. i just think she’s a little obnoxious. which is pretty rich, coming from me!!!

ok i am tired. and maranda has gone to bed, which means that if i stay up too much longer she will come out and yell at me for having the kitchen light on.

the same maranda that kept me up every night for the last 5 semesters watching the office/parks and rec/psyche over and over and over. when she finished a show, she’d go back to the beginning and start over. when i hear dad watching the office i get subconsciously annoyed and it takes me a minute to figure out why.

i mean, i could have kept asking her to turn the volume down. but when you get a sharp “no” the first time it gets really intimidating. and i couldn’t close the door because ping would just open it.

mom and maranda’s mom are coming up at 10 tomorrow. my aunt will also show up at some point to put my furniture in her pickup truck to get it down to phoenix for us. and the department picnic is at noon. mom wants me to stay at the hotel with her and dawn. i don’t really want to, it’ll be harder to stay up obnoxiously late, but the alternative is to sleep here on the floor. which is even more miserable than trying to sleep in the bed thanks to ping’s concerts the moment he gets bored of everyone around him sleeping.

i did everything i needed to do today. tomorrow i just gotta be present. i hope i can manage that. if i lose out on sleep again tonight i might die though.

i am putting off going to bed... i am out of things to talk about but i want to keep typing. i have been super restless the last few nights. i can’t figure out why. i have been getting, not enough exercise necessarily, but more than usual, and enough that i am tired by the time i get back to my apartment. and the lack of sleep makes me not want to move at all. my brain is wiped. but my legs keep saying “YEAH LET’S GO LET’S DO IT COME ON LET’S GO!!!”

anyway, i’m gonna get ready for bed before maranda yells at me. i will try to think about what is bothering me so much tonight that i don’t want to sleep. if i find out i will try to remember to share it.

the mold, by the way, is a non-issue. it causes respiratory problems and exacerbates already-existing conditions like migraines. those are not the symptoms i am currently experiencing.

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story)- Chapter Fourteen: Past Perfect

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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Chapter Fourteen: Past Perfect

“I’m not sure I understand.” She glances down at Lana, at her anxious face and the tension lines at the corners of her eyes. “Not that kind of… you did want to, correct? Finding a new fleet captain will be tedious, but if I need to go kill Koth for you-”

“What? Stars, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all.” Though she hasn’t even moved Lana’s hand reaches up, wraps around her wrist as if holding her in place. “No killing. Not Koth, at least.”

“Spoilsport. But then I suppose I still don’t quite follow.”

With a sigh, she lets go, opening her eyes again. “If I knew how to explain, Nine, it wouldn’t have been such a problem. I knew he trusted me after that, and I think that was what I’d been missing. I missed-” she gestures helplessly, her expression softening- “I missed something like this, I suppose. I wanted a friend, not a bed partner.”

(She smiles at that. They are friends, when it comes down to it, not something she ever thought she’d say about a Sith Lord who used to be her boss, the outsider who was handed the gutted corpse of Imperial Intelligence and told to resurrect it as a puppet of the Council. She was used to treating Sith in the same way one would treat a serpent- kept safely at arm’s length, a knife behind your back to take the head off quickly when, inevitably, the fangs came out.

Lana, to put it mildly, had been a surprise.)

“Did you tell him that?”  

“Yes and no.” She sits up, reaching for one of the biscuits still sitting on the forgotten tray. “The next morning I told him it wasn’t going to happen again. He asked if he’d done something wrong, which was ridiculous- it was perfectly nice, honestly, but-”

Nine stops short, her own hand halfway to the plate- they may as well both eat; she’s still starving- and winces. “You didn’t actually use the word ‘nice,’ I hope.”

Shrugging, Lana mumbles around a mouthful of crumbs. “I might have. What’s wrong with nice?”

She oughtn’t laugh- it isn’t funny, except she can picture the face Koth must have made- so she shoves half a sandwich into her mouth and turns away, nominally chewing but mostly composing herself. After a moment, her expression settled back into neutrality, she rotates back to face her. “Let’s put it this way. Imagine you’ve given me a gift, then asked me if I liked it. If I told you I thought it was nice…”

“I’d think you hated it, but you were being polite to spare my- oh.” Lana pales. “Oh, hell.”

“Myself, I used to default to ‘lovely.’ I generally save ‘nice’ for when I still have to be diplomatic but the sex was egregiously bad.”

“I should have said something else.” She flops backward, settling back onto the pillow, covering her eyes with her hands. “I should have said anything else. But it was- I don’t know. It wasn’t him. I-”

In that moment, she thinks she finally understands.

She leans over, smooths a stray piece of hair down over Lana’s forehead. “That just isn’t your kind of lonely at all, is it?”

“No. Not really.” Lana rubs at the bridge of her nose, lets her hands fall to her chest with fingers interlaced. “On Korriban it was an advantage, if anything. I saw too many other acolytes die at lovers’ hands to have any interest in romance, and frankly I preferred the library.”

“I can imagine. I had a few bad breakups in my own school days, and unlike you we weren’t being actively encouraged to kill each other.”

Lana laughs, a little, at that. “Yes, well, there was that. But then, even later-” she shrugs again. “I’m really quite fond of Koth, despite his obstinacy, and in the moment I thought perhaps… but nothing. Always nothing. And I couldn’t make him understand. He still thought it was him.”

If there’s a right way to respond to that she’s not sure what it is. I’m sorry seems wrong, somehow, placating the wrong part of the problem assuming it was ever really a problem at all, which isn’t for her to say. Instead, she lets the quiet settle around them, the only noises their breath and the occasional shout from the corridor beyond her closed door.

“You weren’t even in the records,” Lana says after a few minutes of silence. “It didn’t even matter, in the end, everything we’d done on Arron Prime. You weren’t in prison. We still had no idea where you were, whether you were alive or dead, and Koth started second-guessing the whole thing once he’d realized you were the woman who’d allegedly killed the Immortal Emperor.”

“I wish I had. Shot him clean through the heart, not that he has one-”

(Now, now, he says inside her head, and her temples throb with pressure like a tightening vise, that’s a terrible thing to say.)

She hisses- ah, that hurts; Lana tenses and sits up again, one hand on her shoulder. “Was that him? I could feel it, I think.”

“Yes.” She thinks of walls, solid walls made of stone and steel and wound around with thorns as long as her hand, until she feels his presence retreat from her conscious mind. “He tends to like to interject his opinion when he’s the topic of conversation.”

“Senya, Sana-Rae and I are still looking at possible solutions. There was a Dark Council member who might have been of help- Darth Nox was her name, and by all accounts she was a master at spirit binding, but the war took her. I haven’t heard from her in years.” A pause, then, a finger brushing above her upper lip. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“That’s the usual outcome. Beats a lightsaber through the gut, I suppose.” She vaults over the back of the couch, crossing  the room to the ‘fresher and grabbing a clean cloth off the towel bar, presses it to her nose and pinches, hard, across the bridge. “It’ll stop in a minute or two.”

Lana rises, too, reaching out. “Here. May I?“

“Thought you weren’t a healer.” She leans in anyway, toward her outstretched hands, and a faint warmth blossoms across her face as Lana concentrates.

“I’m diversifying. Someone’s got to keep the rest of you alive,” she says, “and the techniques are fascinating, actually. The different applications of energy-”  

Her eyes glaze over about ten seconds in; Lana could go on for ages about the Force, and it probably is really interesting stuff except that she doesn’t understand a single word of it, like listening to Watcher Two discuss algorithms or Doctor Lokin break down chemical formulae. She can feel the flow of blood slowing, though, so she’ll take the lecture.

“-but the Zakuulan philosophy suggests that- I’m talking too much and you’re going cross-eyed. Sorry.” She pulls her hands away. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you.” Wadding up the cloth after wiping away a few stray drops of blood, she throws it back through the open door to the refresher. “It’s a shame Koth didn’t see this. It might finally convince him that the Emperor isn’t what he believes.”

“I doubt very much that it would be enough.”

Something in Lana’s voice makes her turn around; when she does, Lana’s still standing on the far side of the couch, her hands clenched tight.

“We fought constantly in the weeks after Arron Prime- about you, about Arcann, about what our next steps should be, about everything except what we were actually fighting about. Vitiate, especially. Always Vitiate, Valkorion, however you want to call him. Even when we thought he was gone for good, damn him, he still ruined everything.”

She comes back around beside her, rummages under the little table for the bottle she’s pretty sure ended up there last night (she knows they didn’t finish the whole thing, she and Theron, before their attention turned elsewhere) until her fingers close around its neck.

“That was my second mistake. I thought if I showed him,” Lana looks at her, grabs the bottle from her hand, pulls the cork and takes a long sip before she can reach for a glass- she never does that, not ever- “if I showed Koth the terrible things Vitiate had done, I could make him see.”

“Lana.” She knows in her gut what the answer’s going to be. Of all the terrible things the Emperor did there is one that they cannot forget, one place where they stood and watched a world die, but she needs to hear her say it. “Lana, what did you do?”

It’s almost a laugh, but for the way it pitches upward at the end. “I took him to Ziost.”

“And-”

“Have you been back to the surface? Since it happened?”

“Yes. Once. Never again.”

Lana takes another long sip from the bottle, then hands it back to her. “You know, then, what it’s like.”

“Yes.” She needs a drink, too, to wash out the memory. Thankfully, it’s only half-gone. “Koth didn’t take it well, I assume.”

“He refused to speak to me for three days. We were halfway back to Asylum before he’d even look at me. As I said, I’m not sure he’s quite forgiven me even now, and on some level… you’ve hear him. He still doesn’t quite believe it was real.”

“But he stayed. Koth’s deserted once already-” Lana raises a hand to object that that, but she waves her down- “not that it wasn’t warranted, but the point stands. If he hadn’t believed in what you were doing, Emperor or no, he’d be gone by now.”

“I suppose, but-”

Her holotransmitter, set up on the table in the far corner, starts to ring, and she turns to check the display; she hasn’t got any meetings tonight, as far as she can remember, but in their ever-growing Alliance there are always a hundred fires to put out and some burn hot, even in the middle of the night.

Incoming call: Theron Shan.

Lana peeks over her shoulder at the call display. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Commander. I’ll just-”

“Oh, sit down, would you? Unless it’s an emergency he can wait- transmitter, answer call- and if you call me Commander again I will give you the longest title that I can think of and insist that every single person on this base use it in its entirety every time they so much as mention your name.”

The holo flickers to life. Theron’s sitting in what looks to be the pilot’s chair of his shuttle, feet propped up on the instrument panel and arms folded across his chest, and to judge by the wrinkles across his forehead he’s desperately trying not to laugh. “Hey, you. And Lana, I’m guessing. No one else hates titles that much.”

“Hello, Theron.” Sinking back into the corner of the couch, surrounded by a pile of pillows, Lana waves backward over her shoulder at the transmitter camera.

He quirks an eyebrow; she passes the bottle into her left hand, raising her right index finger to her lips, and he nods, spelling out a question. Koth?

She inclines her head to the right- later. “Hey, yourself. Is something the matter, or did you just miss me?”

“Mostly the latter.” He grins. “And much as I like Tee-Seven, I can only listen to binary for so long. Nothing wrong, just a few contact updates a little too sensitive to write down. But those can wait if I’m interrupting.”

“I’ve got the hour set aside as designated ‘drink and discuss the many ways in which men are inferior’ time, sorry. No boys allowed.”

At that, Lana reaches across to steal the bottle back.

“Really, though,” she says, “are you on your way to bed? I can ring back later, or in the morning-”

“Oh, I’ll be awake.” Theron stretches, arms over his head, as the astromech wheels by in the background with a cheerful chirrup of greeting. “I never sleep well shipboard. If I’m not paying attention just keep calling until I pick up.”

Should’ve taken me with you, she signs where Lana can’t see. Your fault for traveling alone.  

He smirks.

“I will. Talk to you soon, then.” Careful, neutral words, for others’ ears. Always careful.

“Yup.” The channel clicks off.

Lana chuckles. “I really should learn smugglers’ cant. I always feel as though you’re talking about me.”

“We weren’t.” It’s mostly not a lie, and she won’t tell Theron everything in any case- some things aren’t meant to be shared. “Just teasing him a bit, is all.”

“It’s funny, really. The first time you two met, on Manaan, I was sure you loathed each other.”

“Oh, we did.” She sits back down beside her, laughing. “We actually talked about that once. I believe the consensus was that he thought I was entirely amoral and completely incapable of being serious and I thought he was a humorless prude. Cute, but humorless: standard SIS field operative. They’re fun to play with, until one gets bored.”

With a toss of her head, Lana runs her fingers through her hair, working out the last few plaits. “It did rather remind me of a cat toying with a mouse. What happened in between, though? By Yavin he hated me for what happened on Rishi, but as you’ll recall-” her cheeks flush, ever so slightly- “I know more than I care to of what happened between the two of you. You can’t expect me to believe all of that was play.”

“Serves you right for reading my mind. But no, it wasn’t- only at first, and even then not all of it.” She grins at the memory. “Honestly? I flirted with Theron because I thought it’d piss you off.”

***

15 ATC. Manaan.

This was a stupid idea, she thinks to herself. This was a really stupid idea.  

When Lana called her the last time, she should have said no. This isn’t Intelligence, not anymore, where she had to jump every time some self-important Sith Lord snapped her fingers, but she hates being made a fool of and she has to admit it’s looking more and more like Darok and Arkous played them all like a Void-damned orchestra. She still can’t figure out why, either. She’s got no idea what their end game is and it’s driving her crazy.

So when Lana called, she answered, following her all the way to Manaan. Apparently they’ve got an ally now; she won’t tell her who it is, which is both annoying and worrisome. With no name she couldn’t pull a dossier before arriving. It could be anyone. It could be a Jedi.

It had better not be a Jedi.

Not that it matters now. She let Jakarro kill the scientist- all the files they need will be on the lab terminal anyway, and hopefully it’ll keep the Wookiee from ripping her arms off before they can make it back to the surface- but that kept them occupied just long enough to let her quarry escape. As she watches, their submersible pulls away from the docking tube, taking off toward the surface and-

“Um, boss?” Kaliyo points toward the door they came through, now sealed shut behind them, as a half-dozen explosions rock the station and freezing water pours in through a crack in one of the viewports. “I can’t swim. Thought now might be a good time to mention that.”

Shit.

There must be escape pods, but she doesn’t have a map of the facility either. “Lana?” She opens the channel as they run toward the far passage. “I need an exit, and you need to pull as much intel off the network here as fast as you can. They bugged out and blew the seals.”

“I’m sending a shuttle down your way.” A voice in her ear, definitely not Lana. Definitely male, Coruscanti accent. Not Imperial. “Keep heading down that hallway toward the cargo bay. It’s about ten minutes out, but you should have time.”

“This is a private channel,” she says, ducking back around a corner as two of Gorima’s engineered soldiers launch a volley of rifle fire in her direction. “If you’re there with Lana, put her on. Otherwise, get the fuck off my line.”

“She’s here. But she’s meditating, trying to track Darok and Arkous. I’m working on that data-” the accent’s not entirely Coruscanti, now that she’s heard a little more; there’s a softness to the consonants, less emphasis on the hard k. Whoever he is, she’d guess he was raised elsewhere- “but I’ll try to talk you through at the same time.“

The water here’s already up to her ankles, freezing cold even through boots and thick socks, and as they run she catches a whiff of wet fur as Jakarro charges past her into the next room. “You must be the mysterious ally, then. Do you have a name, mysterious ally?”  

“We’ll do names topside. Too many potential ears.”

“We do know how to secure a channel, you know.”

He snorts. “Maybe, maybe not. Once you cross this room there’s one more hallway before the cargo bay. I’ll- um. Hang on. There’s something-” the channel cuts out for a second.

Kaliyo looks at her. “That doesn’t sound good.”

She hands her an extra stim, an extra kolto syringe, and her last two grenades. “Let the Wookiee take point. If it gets that bad, run for the docking tube.”

Before Kaliyo answers, Mysterious Ally’s in her ear again. “Gorima had a pet project- a cyborg prototype. Shielded. It’s loose in the cargo bay.”

“Can we bypass? Dock the shuttle somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else.”

She sighs, ducking as a dead Selkath goes flying overhead. “I’m not equipped for cyborgs. I was expecting a Sith and a meat shield.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, “Lana said you were tough.”

(now that is disappointing, hunter says.

she’s curled up on the floor of the nar shaddaa safehouse, hunter called her back after hoth- she thought it was just to get her away from temple, to threaten her again, but that wasn’t it. she doesn’t know what was in the syringe; it could have been glitterstim or etching acid and she would have had to stick it in her arm anyway when hunter told her to. her nerve endings burn and it hurts it hurts it hurts and-

one finger up the back of her neck. it feels like her skin’s splitting. i thought you were tough.)

“You-” the doors to Cargo slide open and it’s standing in the center of the room, easily ten feet tall and studded with metal where it isn’t armored which is almost everywhere; that is the biggest Selkath she’s ever seen- “have no fucking idea.”

Five minutes until compression failure. The synthesized voice rings through the overhead speakers. Five minutes until compression failure. Please proceed to the nearest escape pod for immediate evacuation.

She kills the creature in three.

The decontamination jets helped, to be fair, but dead’s dead and dead and on fire’s better. She lets Kaliyo patch up Jakarro as she activates the console beside the docking chamber. “Alright, Mysterious. Where’s my shuttle?”

“Docking now. Hold on.”

The projector activates, and- oh. He’s cute.

“Well. Hello, ‘pub.” Not a Jedi, but there’s no mistaking it, looking at him- dark hair and eyes, tanned skin above a leather jacket that definitely isn’t standard-issue and cranial implants that definitely are - SIS. She’d bet good credits he’s SIS. She licks her lips. “Now I see why Lana’s been keeping you all to herself.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I’m with the Republic. I’m also saving you. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, no. I can play nice.”

“Good. Door should be opening-” as he says it, the seals hiss and the panels slide open, revealing a little shuttle beyond- “now.”

“Looks cozy.” She signals, waving her team onward. “And here I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to ride anything Republic-issue.”

Oh, he’s a blusher. This is going to be delightful. “Oh, for-”

She hangs up on him. Time to go.

(Was that really what you said? Lana buries her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. He did look flustered when I came out of meditation.

She tries, unsuccessfully, to look innocent.)

By the time they get back to the meeting room she’s gotten the water out of her boots and most of the blood off her face, and rearranged her hair to cover the scorched bits.

“Everyone, this is Jakarro, our new friend and import/export specialist, and his colleague C2-D4, formerly of Onderon. Jakarro, Cee-Two, this is Lana Beniko-” Lana, polite, nods her head- “and Mysterious Ally who won’t tell me his name except in person.”

He’s got his nose buried in a datapad, but at least he looks up when she speaks. “Theron Shan, Republic SIS. Hi.”

She knew it . “Hello, Theron Shan. Lana, have you introduced me?”

“I thought I’d let you do the honors.”  

“I see.” She turns toward him with a mocking little bow as he looks her up and down, tracks his eyes as they flick toward her weapons, her armor, lingering on her face. “Cipher Nine, formerly of Imperial Intelligence. I do hope my reputation precedes me.”

To his credit, he only goes a little pale. Good. “I hear Imperial Intelligence isn’t much to speak of these days.”

“We got tired of winning all the time, so we figured we’d let you see what it feels like for once.” She shrugs, her smile wide. “It was getting boring, really.”

“And we will all,” Lana sighs irritably, “be working together for the near future, so if you would please keep the sniping to a minimum-”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” She winks at him. “We’re only playing, aren’t we, Theron?”

He looks back down at his datapad as Lana, eyes narrowed, mouths a single word in her direction- Behave.

(I seem to recall hearing that a lot, that year, she says.

Well, you did deserve it. She curls into the cushions as Lana ruffles her hair. I suppose I did.)

***

Up next- Legacies, in which Rakata Prime is a learning experience, going to ground is less fun than it used to be, and Nine gets a taste of her own medicine as our flashback continues.