#fine. not relevant to you all but folks who know me closely know that being firmly planted in reality has never really been-

[astradyke]

oh no talking about my own life again? on my blog? i should be stoned

[zombee]

I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.

This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.

First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.

Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.

(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)

The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.

ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.

Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.

THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!

Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.

(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)

So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.

And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.

I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes. 

So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.

Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends. 

…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.

Because it has happened to me before.

I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it. 

Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!

I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.

I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.

But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.

So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”

BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!

They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end  of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”

As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”

Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.

In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!

It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.

I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”

Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!

I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.

It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.

But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.

Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.

The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.

Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.

· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!

· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.

·        Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!

· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.

· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!

· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!

· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!

And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.

But.

Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.

I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.

[virginiathegray]

On Hardened Companions

I've seen some people wishing that Veilguard had more options to harden a character besides just Lucanis or Neve, so some thoughts: Firstly, I had this opinion while I was playing as well, so I absolutely see the appeal and why this belief occurs. However, after thinking about it more, I don't think it would have worked.

When I started thinking about how each companion could end up hardened, I went down the list and tried to figure out what plot-relevant things might achieve this...and I just kept coming up with events that already happen at the end of each companion quest.

Telling Harding to lean into her anger over the loss of the Titans? Making Emmrich a lich? Lucanis choosing to imprison his cousin even if Traviso was saved? Neve becoming Dock Town's Batman even if Minrathous is still standing? You get the idea.

Those seem like the more "hardened" options for those characters, but...are they? The whole point of those choices (to me) is that they are nuanced and don't have one right answer. Including a mechanic to incentivize one choice over another feels like it misses the point of why the choice is there.

I could go on about this forever, but ultimately let's move forward with the assumption that tying a hardened status to the companion quests would be dissatisfying and we're better off without it. If any other characters can be hardened, it has to come from the main story quests (as they did in the Traviso/Minrathous choice)

And I...can't really think of any?

I mean, I can, they just aren't very good. You could let the Dalish be sacrificed during the Venatori rally near the end of Act 2 and harden Bellara. I'm sure we could do something messed up regarding one of the many dragons in the game that pisses Taash off. Rook could tell Davin after Weisshaput that he's right actually, and he really SHOULD have died! Harding's could...involve the ritual site somehow? If we're a jerk about it or tell her to shut up about her powers? I don't know. I can't even begin to think of what main quest story could upset Emmrich to the point of being hardened, though. Peepaw's here for a good time.

Every above option teeters dangerously close to a total character assassination of Rook, in my view. These are not things Rook, in any of their many forms, would do. And truthfully, these things shouldn't make a companion hardened, they should make a companion leave your party. And that's not what this game is about.

Now, if you're one of those folks who wanted to be able to play evil, that's fine! There are games out there that will suit you better than this one. But at that point we get into the larger argument of what a Dragon Age game even is, and how playing an evil asshole was never actually on the table in the first place. If your script doctoring of the game involves a total rewrite that lets you kill Assan or kick Manfred in the shins, we might be at the juncture where we admit that this game isn't for you, and that's ok! Rook is not the protagonist you're looking for. They're a hero. Inexperienced and out of their depth, but a hero all the same. They will never knowingly make the choice to be cruel, which is why the sacrifices they DO make hit harder.

All this to say, the hardened feature works for Neve and Lucanis. It's fun that our choice of which city to save has consequences, and I empathize with the desire to have more of this mechanic in the game. I just...don't actually think the idea holds water once we dive into the narrative implications of implementing the mechanic on a wider scale. Rook DOES make many choices that affect the companions, but their effects aren't so easily spelled out as "softened or hardened" and tbh the game is all the better for it.

[soul-wanderer]

I just realized that one of the things that have been bothering me (apart from certain people in the Marina fandom lacking boundaries and moderation) is the fact that oftentimes Maya’s and Carina’s relationship is labeled as “relationship goals”, which is also kind of ironic, given the sheer hatred Maya keeps receiving for being traumatized and mentally ill.

The point is, I don’t think their relationship was ever meant to be anything close to perfect or have a role model function, which is why it is concerning to label it as such.

Both of them entered this relationship with a lot of emotional baggage, especially in regard to their own families (especially their fathers). On top of that, they both didn’t really talk about said emotional baggage for quite a while and refused to get professional help for it, too. And then we have the fact that they disagreed on topics that were highly relevant for their relationship: marriage and children. In the end, they still get married and Maya even agrees on having kids, but if this were a real relationship, this almost certainly would go wrong in the long run, and it’s just not realistic that Maya would change her mind so quickly, just like their wedding was extremely rushed. And that is not even taking into account that Maya cheated on Carina with Jack and that Carina still ends up being friends with Jack again.

Fast-forward to more recent struggles, and we once again see a lack of communication between the two of them. Carina preferred to talk to anyone but Maya about her marriage problems and Maya just completely shut off, which is understandable but doesn’t help their marriage at all.

And I am not saying that their entire marriage is completely dysfunctional, because there definitely are beautiful moments between them, but in the end my argument still stands that the writers weren’t going for a beautiful, picture perfect, functional relationship.

And that’s okay!

They decided to show a relationship that had a less than ideal start, with two people who come with a lot of baggage that they refuse to talk about and fail to resolve in healthy ways a lot of the time. They often need a metaphoric explosion before they come to their senses and realize they cannot go on like this. Their relationship is deeply flawed because they are deeply flawed. And that’s just what relationships are like, sometimes. But I still wouldn’t suggest that anyone take their relationship as an example for what to look for in a relationship, because in real life this would almost certainly fail or lead to some sort of toxic trauma bonding, and I’m not sure anyone would want that for their own relationship.

That being said: The main issue seems to be the discrepancy in what demographic this entire storyline was written for and the demographic that is a big part of the actual fandom. As someone who grew up with Callie and Arizona as the main queer couple on TV, I know what it’s like to see a dysfunctional relationship and overlook the dysfunctional parts because that’s just the little representation you get, after all. There’s a considerable gap in the positive and healthy representation of queer couples for younger folks, and it’s showing. I personally don’t need or want positive representation, because I am at an age (oh, here we go) where I quite enjoy messy and realistic representation. Because I know when things are messy and problematic.

However, that does not mean that there is no hope left for this relationship. If they both! go to therapy and make amends, they might as well find ways to a healthy relationship. It’s fine if they do, it’s fine if they don’t. Again, the writers have done a remarkable job at portraying a realistic relationship - and sometimes realistic does mean messy and dysfunctional and problematic, and I hope more people are able to acknowledge that in the future. And by the way, that doesn’t mean that you can’t ship problematic couples - heck, I do it all the time, but it does mean that sometimes we need to use our critical thinking skills and not sugarcoat behaviours that weren’t meant to be healthy in the first place. Thanks for coming to my ted talk about problematic relationships!

[kalira]

I was on an antidepressant you are absolutely not supposed to stop cold turkey when I was hospitalised as a teenager (due to another psychiatric medication, btw; I nearly died and had to have a major surgery because of it) (I saw a doctor the day I was hospitalised who sent me home saying I was fine and to try the medication again) (there was a major lawsuit over that medication/against the manufacturer later but I digress) and . . . I wasn't allowed to take my antidepressant, of course.

Naturally you can't just . . . take meds you bring with you from home, the hospital pharmacy has to have orders and the nurse bring your meds at the appropriate times (sidenote: I take meds every 4 hours these days, at my worst if they were 10-15 minutes late I would wind up barely able to swallow, or completely unable, among other things the medication fixed - hospitals give nurses an hour before or after the noted time to get the meds to a patient).

For the entire time I was hospitalised I was never allowed/okayed to take the antidepressant I'd been on for some time, was in all my records, that you should definitely never stop abruptly and also that was, you know, controlling my suicidal depression. I'm sure that certainly had no effect on my body or my mental health/reactions to being hospitalised and everything that came with it.

I do remind folks when it comes relevant of that emergency partial refill possibility; I've been fortunate enough not to need it myself, mainly because both I and my doctor are on top of those things. (IV meds . . . well. There's no such fallback for that. Unfortunately.) I've definitely had some major anxieties about my meds around holidays, though, especially ones like Christmas-New Year's which are whatever for me but lots of people and businesses close for or have unpredictable hours or-

psychiatrists: You can’t stop this medication cold turkey. You need to stay on your meds no matter what. If you don’t stay on your meds I won’t treat you as my patient anymore

psychiatrists when you need your meds refilled: yeah I can do that in about 10 business days. oh you need it right now? or you’re going to end up hospitalized? meh I don’t care. good luck idiot

[wigglebox]

I don’t go here but I’ve seen so much of the discourse on this Misha stuff on my dash that I’d like to chime in: I think what’s happened is that so many people have projected onto this actor so many incongruous things and applied to, again, this *actor* so much built up fan lore that every time reality comes crashing down, everything splinters for these fans creating a dissonance they can’t handle. “How could this ACTOR not live up to the projections and speculation I slapped on him, which he clearly has no way of possibly knowing!! He’s clearly terrible! Even though what I’m really mad at is a figment of a person I made up in my head because I have no idea who this actor is in real life!”

So much of it, respectfully, reads like that. It’s a huge trap I’ve seen fans fall into for years now- this building up a fantastical personality around someone they will never even meet, and then rock-bottom disappointment when it cracks.

It seems he does have a lot of interaction with fans through social media, but in this day and age actors, especially B-list actors, are almost required to maintain that stuff to get work and promote the jobs they get on- they kinda don’t have a choice. All social media for actors is part of their job- it’s not some sort of personal one-on-one time with anyone.

In these moments where the veneer seems to crack, I think it’s a good opportunity to adjust one’s self, as a fan, to tether back to reality. Grab onto the dissonance and let it ground you. As fans, folks do not actually know this person, nor will they ever. We don’t know him. He’s doing his job going to cons to make a little money until the next gig rolls around and bask in a little past glory hoping folks will stick around for what’s to come. It’s also a challenge keeping the balance of all that- which this incident seems to drill home. Marketing is hard, and as an actor expected to do it for yourself personally even harder. Sometimes you fuck it up a little. Ah well- live, apologize, learn, and do better next time.

Because he’s just an actor trying to keep himself relevant at the end of the day- it’s just his job. We aren’t perfect. It’s fine. Whatever.

I hope that makes sense. Please excuse the anon bc I respect how strong y’all are. Anyway, thank you for letting me write too much in your inbox.

Hey nonny! I agree with most of this, though I wouldn't characterize him interacting with us and talking to us as him just trying to make money or keep his job or just that it is his job -- if you're not in the fandom i guess maybe it's harder to see but he truly does care about his fans and gives us the time of day and actually pushes us to do better in our day to day lives and stuff.

i will say though i think this is a problem across all fandoms of people making these actors their personality, or just parasocializing a little too closely, or, in lieu of true support IRL, has latched onto him in a support kind of way. Which is fine I mean I'm a fan too -- but there does come a point we have to draw the line.

But since you're not in the fandom or anything I will say that maybe Misha relied on us a little too much too, at least publically. That is to say, both sides kinda flew too close to the sun here but I feel like as a fandom it felt worse for us because there's so many of us.

I do think we were a comfortable place for him to chat about things -- not everything but he's chatted about personal things and shares with us his journeys when learning things or wanting people to understand something, politics, charities, etc etc.

but i do think it's always important to remember at the end of the day, be it a celebrity, actor, public figure or not, he's really just a person. and even if you think he should be held to a higher standard [a standard, i may add, he likely holds himself to as well], you still have to factor in he's still a human being prone to mistakes or prone to confusion or prone to attachment and emotions and everything. like just because he has to be held to some kind of higher standard doesn't erase human nature.

i find now, a full week since this started, fandom's problems right now are mostly with each other. the misha thing is like, the middle of it or the inciting incident but we were at each other's throats since Friday night, literally. and that's on us. not on him. the man got up there and was vulnerable and read his poems and talked with us and had no idea this was happening.

i think it would be good for fandom to take a collective breath, stop being mean to each other, stop being mean to him because he's never been mean to us before and has always been kind and when he misspoke or misstepped, he's apologized and we know it's sincere because he learns and he listens.

so yeah i disagree he just does social media and interacts with us because it's his job, because he's not just an actor with an acting career he does a lot of other things and he likes community and talking with people truly -- but i agree that sometimes fandoms, across the board not just us, can get a little too much sometimes or maybe demand too much perfection or demand too much or this or another. another human being can't read your mind or be everything you need them to be. that's too much pressure, even more so when it's thousands of people doing it.

[sorikkung]

【 hey, you wanna come in? 】

note: writing is on indefinite hiatus. if you want to know more abt why, read here.

welcome to where all the magic happens!

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ko-fi | ao3

↳ what goes on in neverland.

he/they transmasc!reader x stray kids, ateez, the boyz series | 58k+ (ongoing) | fluff, smut, angst, humour

the runaway renegades are an alt-punk band consisting of you, Mingi, Wooyoung, San, Kevin, Eric and Sunwoo; a clusterfuck of misfits and your closest friends. Close as in too close, probably - most friends probably don't kiss each other on the mouth or straight up fuck each other on the regular, but that's just what happens when 'kissing the homies goodnight' gets serious. You never gave a fuck about labels, anyway.

Stray Kids are an earnest rival band who wants to win - they want to win real bad, maybe even more than you do. Probably even more than you do. Definitely even more than you do. But that's precisely why you can't let them.

Totally nothing to do with how hot they are when they're mad. Totally.

You may have gotten into more than you bargained for.

↳ good boy gone bad

m!reader x tomorrow x together, stray kids, ateez social media au | ongoing | fluff, humour, suggestive, angst

What's more outrageous to a conservative family than one bad boy rebel boyfriend?

Five of them. Hell, why stop there?

Sick of pining over your childhood bestfriends and wanting to stick it to your old folks, you decide its time to find as many fake boyfriends as you can to bring along to your sister's wedding. If they're too good on their own, that's fine - you can make them a whole lot worse.

↳ of princes and princesses

princess!song mingi x trans!prince!reader x prince!jeong yunho one-shot | 16.7k | angst, romance, smut, queer identities

"Only princesses like princes," you were all told. Mingi figured that must make him a princess, because he knows he loves the Crown Prince of Choeya, Jeong Yunho.

"You're a princess," you've been told, but you know you're a prince - and if it takes recruiting the estranged princess of Reuji to help you prove that point on your last stand, so be it.

Yunho is throwing a gala between the three kingdoms to forge alliances, and has no idea just how successful he will be.

↳ baby bunny

gn!afab!reader x txt (soobin centric) one-shot | 13k | literally just straight up porn

soobin is a shy boy, you know this. but he wants to be a good boy for you - your perfect little baby bunny.

[demonslayedher]

Good day Buriko-senpai. So happy to see the box open! Though first i want to say thank you so much for the analysis on characters, places, names, as well as the posibilities canon could have taken without deviating from the original as much, and the awesome drawings you have made (as well as the fanfics!! The fanfics!!), they all bring me so much joy and if i keep on throwing so much praise i might never finish– I only had one question which was about Sabito. As much as I tried to look into him, I dont know what to make of his character, since, everyone always has some sort of meaning behind their names to their characters (even the minor ones like Makomo- Truth/Pure prob because of her personality. Kanae- mostly compared with Hana- Flower. Masachika- Save and near or close in time, as in he saved sanemi before.) But Sabito has the "rust" and "rabbit" on him and i dont know what to make on that, maybe the rust part yes like, hes weak and failed, but the rabbit? Was it to represent some kind of bunny meaning? Or a rabbit story in Japan? His clothes are fine (the turtle shell pattern I feel like it was more to represent Giyuu surving through it all ngl) since they have significance, but the weird hair color also throws me off, what even is his character? He has such a cool design and i have no idea what it means ಥ_ಥ. Anyways thank you for this long rant I am really sorry it was too long! And have a nice day! Again love your tumblr its so so great !

You read my fics... you read my fiiiiiics... (◕‿◕)♡ I'm so happy I had the Ask Box open long enough for you to slip in, I'm always so happy to hear that! They are the reason for all that analysis, haha XD (The art is usually an accident because I can't stop myself.)

So... Sabito. 錆兎. Rusty Rabbit. Pyon, pyon, watch him hop around with a sword. Hmm. Not very manly.

This is one of the more difficult names to grasp, especially with him being more closely identified with the fox theme than any other character who has used a fox mask in this series. However, while you'd be hard pressed to find personal names with references to foxes, you ca-a-a-n find names using "rabbit" for its 'to' or 'u' sound, and these names generally carry an element of mystery to them. They're endearing names, but also mystical. While I started by searching for any rabbit legends or associations I hadn't heard of (the White Hare of Inaba didn't feel relevant, and associations with the moon or medicine matchmaking also felt like a stretch, though I guess there's something vaguely moon-like about Sabito?? Just for like, being mysterious? I dunno??? Does he use his Water Breath to pull tides????), and the baby name advice websites I found myself on while searching for myths and legends wound up giving me the most food for thought, as well as a few general geomancy sites that say how the Rabbit, among the Twelve Animals of the sexagenary system, is associated with vitality and leaping into action. While the most obvious Japanese folk tale is the stupid, foolhardy White Hare who got its fur bit off because it couldn't keep its mouth shut about fooling sharks, there's a general sense in other stories that rabbits are kind creatures who are self-sacrificing for how willing they are to jump into danger if it means saving someone else.

What strikes me most about the name suggestions (all analyzed either for the gentleness of the rabbit or the rabbit's bravery in leaping into action) is how many of them are paired with glittery kanji, like "bright rabbit" (a moon reference), "jade rabbit" (another moon reference), or "rabbit moon" (...yeah, a moon reference).

"Rust" flies in the face of this. Whether this is in reference to the moon in shadow, the hue of the moon at the edge of shadow, or even in reference to how Sabito's vitality has tragically ended and how he is now stuck, who knows. (Gotouge knows. I do not.)

But if we could step back to Makomo a moment... "Makomo" (真菰) is a variety of black rice not used much nowadays (though it totally thrives in water cultivation... ha!), but it had a lot of influence in the Nara and Heian periods of Japan, referenced in a lot of classic poetry and thought to have name origins in mythology. Not to make a pun here, but we'd really be getting into the Kojiki weeds on it, so suffice to say it is a medicinal, sun-associated plant also associated with vitality.

Not only that, but it's a holy plant long since used in making shimenawa, the sacred ropes at Shinto shrines--especially at Hachiman shrines, dedicated to the god of war.

Dang it, Gotouge. DANG IT, GOTOUGE, PLEASE LET ME BORROW YOUR BRAIN FOR A DAY.

[stoneworldsimp]

what’s mine is not yours —a request

platonic senku x reader

warnings: swearing, anxiety, talk of insecurities and worries, gender dysphoria

your name!

your name!

YOUR NAME!

your hands slapped to your ears, eyes shut tight. i can’t take this so early in the morning.

the voices from your dream had lingered longer than you would have liked. it reminded you it was time to face another day, to endure another long long day and night of hearing the wrong things.

maybe if i went and lived on my own again…i wouldn’t have to deal with it—no. senku needs me. he needs me…what does he need me for again? you rolled onto your stomach; your pillow rustled as you flopped it on top of your head. he doesn’t need me. i’d rather be lonely than hear everyone say some bullshit about me.

everyone in the village knew you as a miss. yuzuriha made you more neutral clothes upon request, but everyone assumed you were tomboyish. luckily, no one read more into it; it was nice to dress comfortably, but it was like no one else understood. why were they still calling you a girl? and the older folks, you knew they meant well! but you couldn’t help but feel like their constant “sweet girl”s were making fun of you at this point.

i can’t do it, i can’t do it, they’re making fun of me right now, as i think. as i exist!

you felt a tear trickle down the side of your nose.

oh, you’re kidding. crying? again? is this—

a knock on your door halted your thoughts; you quickly flipped back and sat up in your bed on the ground of your hut, and wiped your face quickly. you lightly slapped your cheeks to stop yourself from continuing crying.

“yeah.”

“it’s me. can i come in?”

senku’s voice brought some sort of relief; personally you felt it was better for him to come in at such a time than anyone else.

you took a deep breath. “sure, but i just woke up. i’m staying under my blanket.”

senku laughed behind the door. a small shove was made and it opened, revealing a quite chipper senku. he liked to come early in the morning when the rest of the village was quiet.

his smirk faltered once he saw your face. you believed you hid your crying well; you didn’t think to check your red eyes or stinging cheeks.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his words much gentler than when he asked to come in.

damn. how could i not realize i was so obvious?

with a deep breath, you whispered, “senku.. we’re pretty good friends, right?”

he snickered. “of course we are, way more than that asshole gen.”

his voice was closer. you laughed as well, and wiped your eyes clear. he slowly walked over and sat down on the floor next to you. senku was looking at you, really looking at you; it was intense, almost if he was making sure his closeness or anything about his presence wasn’t bothering you.

“okay…i’m about to say a lot of stuff. let me know if you need me to explain more, or if i’m talking too much. or—“

your words halted as senku put a hand on your shoulder, a smile light on his face. “all ears.”

you smiled back softly. “okay. so—back in..our time,”you gestured between the two of you with your hands, “i told my family and friends i was, uhm… nonbinary. like i don’t feel male or female, i use they/them pronouns; all that good stuff. still feel that way now. and, for quite some time, they didn’t believe me. not in a direct ‘you’re lying’ way, but more of ‘i don’t understand it therefore you shouldn’t understand it’ type of thing. i got a lot of shit from people who weren’t my friends, too. but with my friends’ support and getting more confidence after coming out, my parents were able to kinda see it. but yeah, it took quite some time. probably like.. eight months? even then, i had to remind them constantly, ‘not a daughter. please don’t call me she or he. please don’t call me a woman.’ but we were getting there. and right when we got petrified, right when it happened, i saw the look on my mom’s face.

“we were talking about me and my identity and it was like something had clicked in her brain. like, she knew exactly what i meant and how i felt when i said what it meant to be nonbinary. i don’t even remember what i said specifically, but i remember her expression as if she were standing in front of me right now. i was so hopeful i’d see her again, her expression got me through my petrification and even helped me break out of it. but of COURSE, i didn’t ever see her again after i woke up. and then i almost lost my own sense of self after being by myself for probably a year.. i was under the assumption i’d never meet another person again, so when i did run into your village—i had this gross feeling of dread. and i realized it was the same feeling that basically lived inside of me before i came out.”

you sat up straighter and looked away from senku. “it’s like, i have to rebuild my identity all over again. people always say you shouldn’t care about what other people say, but i can’t help it. i’m a sensitive person. i get hurt easily, no matter how hard i try to thicken my skin. they all, they all just use ‘she’ and ‘her’ and ‘that girl’ so often, it feels like they’re making fun of me, like they’re constantly telling me i’m not who i say i am. and i can’t tell them senku, being nonbinary was confusing for so many people in our time, i hardly believe they’ll understand it now. sure, my parents were fine, but it took a while before they got it. i can only imagine how long it’ll take for everyone here.”

senku was quiet. have you over explained yourself? was it too overbearing? in all honesty you’d only been good friends with senku a short while; you should have waited at least a little bit longer before letting him in on something so personal—

“it all, it all kind of makes sense now.”

huh?! “what?”

“what you told me, i think i get it now.”

you gave him a look up and down. it was possible, but you didn’t think there was much of a chance that senku would be so..cool with it. not right away. you expected some form of silent treatment for at least a day or two, so he could collect his own thoughts.

“i’m gonna say something, and i need you to listen. yeah?”

you stared at him like your brain short-circuited. what the fuck is he gonna say to me.. oh god, he doesn’t wanna be friends anymore. but he’ll be too nice to kick me out of the village. but it is his village—

“hey, hey…are you with me?” you both sat facing each other now, and his hands rested on your shoulders.

just hear him out. “yeah. all ears.”

he smoothed your shoulders with his thumb. “you���re just as valid as everyone out there. i know you’re scared, but believe me when i say they will not be mocking you in any way. sure, it might take a while for them to understand, but theyre not going to give up just because they dont get something right away. it took me a few months to fully convince this village i could help them, and even then, there were still a few who didn’t fully understand the experiments and contraptions i made until a while later. i know that isn’t the same as your situation… but what i’m trying to say is that they will try their best to know you, the real you. they aren’t going to mock you; if anything, they’ll have lots of questions to ask you.

“also, you have me, you have gen to help out in case you don’t have the capacity to answer everything yourself. i’ve a few things about gender before the stone world, and gen definitely knows a lot of things that are relevant to it as well.

“everyone here… they’re all so eager to learn, i highly doubt they’ll be unaccepting. they’ll be curious. and they’ll be happy you’re letting them in on something that is so important.”

tears had made their way down your face and on your clothes halfway through his mini-monologue; you didn’t notice him continuously wiping them away until he was finished. “it’s going to be okay. trust me.”

with a quiet sob, you pushed yourself into his arms for a hug.

“thank you.”

you knew he wasn’t particularly one for any type of physical contact, but he gladly accepted. for the occasion, he thought. his arms slowly wrapped around your slightly shaking body as you tried to calm down. neither of you spoke for a few minutes; only your soft sniffles were heard in the hut.

“senku, i think that was the most i’ve heard you talk about something that wasn’t directly related to science,” you laughed into his neck.

he laughed back. “i had a lot saved, since there were moments i could tell you were kind of uncomfortable. i didn’t want to force you into talking about it either, so i just waited. tried to figure out what i was going to say. it had to be good.. you are one of my closest friends, after all.”

both of you embraced each other a little tighter. “i hope all of this helped, i want you to live here with none of those worries. especially after so many months of having it bottled inside.”

you nodded in response.

today.. today will be the day i tell everyone not to use what they used to call me; that won’t do at all anymore.

today, i’ll tell everyone my name.

[writingwithcolor]

The White-Presenting Mixed Japanese Experience

@horse-faced-activist-gay​ said:

Hello! I have what I fear is probably a stupid question. I have a character whose great grandmother was Japanese. Everyone else in his family is white. Is he a poc? Not in a breaking him down to a percentage type of way, and there are other characters in the story who certainly are poc, and his mother was close to her grandmother's culture, he isn't so much. It just feels like I should know to capture him properly. Thank you!

Neither Japanese identity nor POC status can be assigned purely by blood quantums. There are a fair number of individuals in the US who identify as mixed/ Japanese/ Japanese-American who fit the above description. What is more relevant for the purposes of your story is how this character views their Japanese identity, how they interact with white culture in the US, and how both of these concepts affect their interactions with family and friends. Please research the concept of “white presenting” for further insight. 

- Marika.

While in some ways, sometimes, I am white presenting, I’ve been pretty connected to my culture since childhood, so I’m pretty solid on my own POC label. I’ve reached out to other white-presenting Japanese peers for their experiences! 

It’s a complicated relationship. My respondents were split on whether or not the POC label was right for them individually, although everyone identified as Japanese/Okinawan. The POC label is very much a matter of personal choice and how you want to be perceived. As Marika said, sometimes it’s less productive to talk about “who is POC” and more productive to consider how someone’s racial or ethnic identity changes how they interact with the world. 

One common thread was how quickly they were racialized or invalidated the moment they opened up about their heritage. 

A: [Regarding physical comments like “oh, I see it a bit now in your eyes”] I've always seen it as ego soothing, like “damn sorry I misread your ethnicity here's something.” In the Western mind Asian people have particular eyes. Either that or the way people look at me shifts when I mention my ethnicity.

B: I recently had an experience where a professor said I couldn't be a person of color because I was lighter than a paper bag and it caused a whole discussion that was frankly humiliating. I feel weird claiming the identity of POC because I can evade a lot of racism just based on looking white. I've noticed a lot of my experiences with racism are based on disclosure. I generally get treated as white until I mention being multiracial or Asian specifically, then people get weird.

Another common thread was feeling as though monoracial white people didn’t see the utility in identifying with the non-white culture at all, and pressured them to “embrace whiteness”: 

A: I never got put into the Other category by white people. To white people it's always been, “why are you so weird, just accept you're white and move on.” I'm stubborn so people pushing against me meant I pushed back harder. My identity as an Okinawan-American is much greater than my identity as a European-American these days.

C: [It] made me feel so off-put. “Embracing” my whiteness was all me, on my own terms, using my own realizations. I'm fairly fine to say that I feel like I was bullied out of saying I'm Japanese openly. 

They also noted that monoracial Asians also gate-kept them out of the community (an experience I share with A as well!). 

A: When I mention something about my ancestry [to someone in the Asian-American community] to connect as a fellow Asian-American, I always get like, "wow really? I couldn't tell, you must've taken more after your [white] Mom" or some shit. So it can be a sensitive topic for me. It does feel like the second I drop the fact that I'm Asian on another Asian person it's like a test, like they gotta measure my Asianess." 

On a more hopeful note, they mentioned that they’ve worked to find ways to connect with their heritage or find a supportive community, and that it’s been rewarding. 

A mentioned that the local Vietnamese-American community was welcoming, and also found that learning Japanese in university meant a lot for cultural connection. 

B found that taking Japanese classes, going to Japanese cultural events, and sharing Japanese food with friends helped them connect. 

C mentioned having a great time exploring traditional dress and kimono workshops, as well as buying old/vintage Japanese items to learn about them. 

All of them mentioned that online nikkei communities have also been a great space to connect with each other, although they said there was a certain je ne sais quoi about in-person interaction that they greatly missed. 

So, OP, I hope you can see from this that cultural connection and community are going to mean a lot to someone like your character, and you should represent that by giving him an interest in keeping up with his Japanese culture, even if it’s through the little things. 

Also from my wonderful respondents is this message to any white-presenting Japanese person struggling with their identity (and this can apply to other white-presenting mixed folks too!): 

C: I think you'll build some confidence as you get older and that confidence includes not just your personality, appearance, but who you are. I fought to get into those Asian student clubs (failed), went on dates with some Asian people (failed), tried to make friends with certain Asians on the basis we were both Asian (failed), went to Japan and tried to connect with people (failed). You shouldn't have to do all this to prove to others or yourself that you are who you are. All my Asian friends have entertained the "come over I want to make this recipe" or "let's go see this Japanese pottery shop." Find people who want to support you.

~Mod Rina White-presenting & mixed Japanese followers, please feel free to use this as a space to share your thoughts. Your experiences are very welcome here. 

[wanderingwomanwondering]

Thoughts on The Buddie Talk from 502

Other folks have looked at this conversation, but I wanted to get on my bullshit about it too. LOL.

So imho this whole conversation is about love and heart, specifically Eddie’s but with Buck’s heart added in. Line by line analysis and commentary. Let the BS begin. Here we go…

Buck: Hey are you sleeping, or just pretending?

Day and night/light and dark are strong themes throughout the episode. @benka79 did a meta on this theme. I think that by extension, awake vs asleep is meaningful in this scene. In matters of the heart, Eddie is trying to sleep or turn a blind eye, doing what he thinks is best for Chris rather than himself. This is exactly what Carla warned him against. But he knows. He knows that Carla is right but he’s ignoring her and trying to ignore Buck. He’s only pretending to be in the dark about his heart and his desires, at least to a degree.

Eddie: I was actually trying to until you interrupted.

Enter Buck, shaking shit up. Interrupting Eddie’s well-intentioned lie. Eddie knows there’s more than meets the eye and Buck is forcing him to open his eyes, wake up and see what’s really going on and reckon with himself and his true desires.

Buck: I’m exhausted. Uh, how are you feeling?

This line has been rattling around in my brain for what feels like a thousand years. Buck is NOT asleep, he’s not able to turn a blind eye. And being the only one willing to look directly at matters of the heart is wearing him out. Dude’s exhausted! He SEES that something is up with Eddie’s heart and he wants Eddie to tell him all about it.

Eddie: Hot. I’m sweating out of places I didn’t know I could.

During the blackout, AC isn’t working so everyone is sweating. Buck even has a thin layer of sweat in the scene. Sweating from the heat is normal and completely reasonable, but is that what’s being invoked here? We know that sweating is also a symptom of health issues (panic and heart problems not the least among them, and definitely symbolically relevant here). Eddie looks like he’s sweating for normal reasons but in the next line Buck questions that.

Buck: No uh like a cold sweat though, right? Uh, any chest pains?

Again, Buck is wide awake. He KNOWS something is wrong with Eddie’s heart/feelings and that Eddie is hiding it from him. He jumps to cold sweats, the kind that are most connected to health problems and are not about the actual temperature in the room. Then follows up with asking about chest pains. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Buck is paralleled with the cardiologist. She’s about Eddie’s literal heart but Eddie’s figurative heart is in Buck’s hands and Buck’s hands only. And my dude is assertively assessing the situation.

Eddie: You don’t give up, do you? I’m fine, Buck.

Good ol’ Eddie, perfecting his avoidance and denial game. But he knows Buck. He does NOT ever give up and he especially doesn’t give up on the people he loves. Eddie recognized this and thanked Buck for it in 303. Buck didn’t give up on Christopher during the tsunami, or on Eddie in Eddie Begins or in Survivors. But that was about Chris and Eddie’s life. This scene in 502 is new in a way. Buck is refusing to give up on Eddie’s heart, his feelings. Now Buck is fighting for Eddie’s quality of life, for his happiness.

Buck: People who are fine don’t go and see cardiologists. You need to tell me if something is wrong.

Buck was so worried about Eddie in 501. Of course Eddie denied that anything was wrong but Buck isn’t stupid. In 501 he asked about the situation clearly and openly because he cares about Eddie and wants to help in any way he can, and Eddie pushed him away. So here in 502 he implicitly invokes the Will. He’s like fine if you won’t tell me as your friend who gives a shit about you, then tell me for Chris’s sake because thanks to the will, I actually fucking need to know if you’re going to drop dead.

Eddie: Alright, it was a panic attack, not a heart attack. A panic attack.

Eddie’s frustrated confession was solid gold. It laid my edges and raised my credit score. He knows that Buck’s persistence is harmless and comes from a genuine place of respect and care. Still, that doesn’t make it any less annoying for a man who’s trying to sleep, pretending his own heart isn’t breaking under the weight of his sense of duty to his son.

Buck: Since when do you panic?

My God, he knows him so well.

Eddie: That’s what I said. I don’t panic. Except I did.

Eddie accepting that this was absolutely a panic attack was huge. Before he had been pushing against the reality of it, but here in Buck’s loving care he could be honest with himself and with Buck that it was indeed panic.

Buck: Ok, well, what triggered it? I mean you did just get shot and almost killed by a sniper. I guess that could be considered an anxiety inducing-

Buck’s in full “cardiologist” mode. He’s paying forward all those years of therapy! What he’s doing here isn’t a replacement for my dude getting some real therapy but here’s Buck with his clipboard efficiently helping Eddie figure his emotional shit out. It’s perfection. It’s also good that he acknowledged the shooting. I think it’s super important that when Buck mentions it, he looks down and away from Eddie.

Buck, my dude, you are not over being covered in the blood of the love of your life. You can still feel his weight in your hands, muscle memory from lifting him above the spray of gasoline and bullets. Eddie may still be asleep on that front but, Buck, you are wide awake and exhausted by the heavy love you’re carrying.

Eddie: That wasn’t it. Ok, if I’m being honest with myself, I think it was Ana.

Oh this is fun. So you are capable of being real, you just choose not to be. Good to know.

Buck: Uh, I thought things were great with her.

Stop. Lying. You saw Eddie get squirrely when talking about the Christening. You saw Eddie get awkward af when A*a and Christopher came to the firehouse. You’ve seen these issues with your own eyeballs. Great? Really? Yeah, this just makes me think muh boy is oblivious and/or he really was expecting Eddie to come clean about issues related to the shooting, not his love life. This reiterates my point that Buck himself is not nearly done with processing the shooting.

Eddie: She’s been a godsend through all this - staying with Christopher - but I think that’s what’s causing the panic. Somehow it become a ready-made family and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

This portion of the conversation has been analyzed to bits by many brilliant others. I don’t have anything to add. I’m like, look dude, you already have a family with Buck and Christopher. A*a’s effin’ up your happy healthy family flow. It’s ok, just turn her loose.

Buck: So what are you gonna do?

Buck’s wisdom grows every frickin’ day. He knows this isn’t sustainable for Eddie. He knows that the heart matters. He knows that feelings are real and help us navigate toward a happy life. Action is needed and he’s nudging Eddie in that direction.

Eddie: I think I’m just gonna stick it out. Ana’s been the first woman I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since Shannon.

Oh dear, Eddie’s overblown sense of duty to everyone but himself strikes again. He can…tolerate… A*a. How romantic!

Buck: Stick it out? That’s not the way you talk about someone you’re in love with.

Um, no. Buck calls shenanigans. He’s not A*a’s bestie but he doesn’t feel any desire whatsoever to have her condemned to a loveless relationship.

Eddie: My kid loves her!

Always putting Christopher first but not realizing that if he isn’t truly happy, Christopher will know because he’s perceptive af. Plus the two haven’t discussed A*a on screen so I’m not convinced Chris loves her as much as Eddie wants to believe.

Buck: Is that enough? Eddie I have been Ana. I know what it’s like to be in love with someone who is not all the way in. Deep down you know it and it hurts. It hurts worse than the truth, so if you don’t want to hurt Ana, you owe it to her to be honest.

Buck is doing A LOT of work here to help Eddie see that his plan of inaction is not good. He centers Eddie asking him if staying for Chris is enough. When that doesn’t work, he realizes that Eddie doesn’t care about his own heart enough to leave so he changes strategies and puts himself in A*a’s place to invoke some empathy for A*a from Eddie. It’s super…interesting that Eddie doesn’t care enough for A*a to come to this conclusion on his own!!

Eddie: You know it just feels like a lot man.

Why, my dude?? Explain. Could it be that A*a is serving a purpose beyond Chris? Could it be that staying with her helps you avoid, allows you to pretend and be oblivious to deeper truths within your battered but still beating heart? Does she obscure the Buck shaped hole in your ticker?

Buck: Well, go to sleep. You don’t need to decide right now. It’s not like we’re going home anytime soon.

Buck is disappointed, exhausted, and frustrated and it has my dude slinging shade like morning hash. He’s like fine turn a blind eye, ignore your heart it’s cool *all the sarcasm* Then we get the reference to home and the fact that the two of them are far from it at this point and we all know how important home is as a Buddie theme. I wrote a little about it here.

Bonus: Eddie closed his eyes after Buck walked away, the he OPENED them again. He fully saw what Buck was saying. He can’t avoid the truth of his heart for much longer.

Y’all this has GOT to be the season that one or both of these idiots realize their feelings. Excuse me while I end.

[zombee]

i am now canyon public enemy #1 on Twitter for the Doug obituary. the buzzword of the day is bully, never mind I was screenshotted and swarmed (someone unblocked me to call me "a massive cunt." perhaps we have different definitions of the word bully!) I've also been called unsafe, because i guess writing a fake obituary that is at worst in poor taste is dangerous somehow.

i am so tired of the chokehold the canyon has on this fandom. we have been coddling them since day one. when the proto canyon ruined this character for me in early days, I quietly stopped writing him into my fics. I was careful not to be anti canyon or even izzy on main (BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT THE SAME THING). but after season 2, when dozens and dozens of canyonites came out to berate and harass David? nah. I stopped censoring myself. i still barely say fucking ANYTHING on main, but I don't ignore it anymore. the obituary wasn't even posted on my TL - it was in a reply!

but they still hate me, and do you know why? because after season 2 we weren't allowed to TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH WE LOVED THIS SHOW. because the canyon is such a loud fucking minority they made us feel bad! for loving the show! we all spent a year and a half collectively loving!!! so that's why I made my Hit Television Series Our Flag Means Death posts. I'm a believer in not qualifying your positivity - not, "i don't care what the haters say, I loved it!" just, "i loved it!" which is relevant because once again I was not even alluding to them!!! i was simply expressing joy and optimism about this amazing show.

so now here we are, close to a year of these fucking people dancing on the grave of this precious show, and I make one mean meme and I'm the bully. okay.

but i expect it from them. it's the folks who have been following me and my work for months and years that see one screenshot and say, oh, no. how terrible. what a bully. never mind two and a half years of positivity and seeing the measure of my character through my work, this is it.

and why?? to coddle THE CANYON??

and by the fucking way, if the original obituary was just cringe, if it just said "I'm sad, this isn't fun anymore, I'm out" then that would be fine! but it's NOT! what it actually says is, "David Jenkins et al are homophobic and those of you simpletons who like Ed and Stede are barely queer. the divide in this fandom that we did not cause, because we are the victims, have made things unsafe for us, a group based around liking a fictional character." BE SO FOR REAL!

so cool. i made one shitty meme and then instead of it being passed along in group chats and dms I was screenshotted, vilified, called names. one person said I was "punching down" because as we all know the canyon is an oppressed class. i was also kicked out of a canyon centric group chat for galaxycon Columbus (did NOT know it was when I joined, lol) which I expected. and the mods were genuinely very chill.... except when they tagged me by name and username on the announcement page 🥴 they did edit it, again they were chill, but if you are ostensibly ANTI BULLY AND ANTI DOXXING, perhaps fucking think about that! Jesus!

strictly by the numbers I am one of the biggest writers in this fandom. and I'm unapologetic about loving my work. if there's one thing miserable people hate, it's being popular and not humble enough about it, so I already had a target on my back. and for the ultimate crime of loving the hit television series our flag means death loudly and proudly i might actually have to leave ofmdtwt. I'm sick with it. fuck.

[queen-scribbles]

The Long-Burning Torch

For the @shepherds-of-haven​ Shepherds Summer event, the Ryn/Red muses latched onto 20′s Detective AU and would not let go. I’ve gone so deep down this rabbit hole there’s gonna be chapters, but the first piece works as a standalone. (title might change along the way, again bc chapters)

----

There were, in Xaeryn’s experience, two types of people who made use of her services. Both were driven by desperation, both tended to hit her doorstep late in the day. There were the belligerent ones, incensed they had to stoop to hiring her, a Mage, to solve their problem. From them she had to pull the pertinent facts of their case one begrudging sentences at a time. And there were the frantic ones, who had exhausted every other route and she was their last chance. Details poured so freely from them she had to pick through it to find what was actually relevant to the case.

The young man standing before her now, at the start of her day, appeared to fit neither of those groups. He’d knocked and entered without awaiting an invitation, seeming unperturbed by the eyebrow she arched at his arrival.

“May I help you?” Xaeryn asked, leaning forward to rest folded hands on her desk.

He shifted to fold his own hands over the head of a walking stick she’d wager he didn’t actually need and smiled dryly. “If your reputation is anything to go by, Miss Shrike, I certainly expect so.”

She gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. “Let’s find out, Mr...?”

“Riel Syndran,” he said, passing her a business card as he took the offered seat.

The card was hardly necessary, and Xaeryn set it on the desk with only a passing glance. “You run Whitestone Couriers, don’t you?”

There was the faintest twitch on the left side of his jaw. “The company is a guild venture.”

“And I wouldn’t be much of a snooper if I couldn’t figure out who truly ran a company as vital to the city of Haven as Whitestone Couriers, Mr. Syndran.”

He gave her a sharp smile. “Very good. I knew coming to you first was the right call, Miss Shrike.”

“Flattered as I am by your confidence” --and she was; she was typically the last resort, being first was something of a novelty-- “why don’t you tell me what or who you need found, and we can discover if said confidence is warranted.”

“I’m certain it is,” Syndran said, his gaze briefly dropping to the Shrike Investigations placard on the edge of her desk. “But you are correct. To business.”

And business, as he explained it, ran thus: Whitestone Couriers had been contracted to transport a collection of artefacts, originally from all parts of Blest, from their previous temporary home at the Conte-by-the-Sea museum to Haven’s Hall of History and Culture.

”How well-known was your being contracted?” Xaeryn interjected.

“It was something of a secret,” Syndran replied, flicking invisible dust off his sleeve. “Some of the pieces are quite valuable, so it was largely in hopes of avoiding theft.”

Hopes that had proven vain. They’d had an uneventful journey--blessed with good weather, even--made it through city customs upon arriving at Haven (checked everything after making it through and found nothing amiss), and proceeded to the museum. Upon unpacking the artefacts, however, it was discovered one was missing.

(Of course.)

The missing piece--an obsidian and bronze pendent thought to belong to a ruler in the Jalis desert pre-Autarchy--had limited monetary value, especially compared to some of the other items in the collection. (Those, of course, had been more closely watched.) Its worth was largely historical and religious.

“Enchantments?”

“None so far as we know.”

“I’ll look into it for you,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She loved mind-twisters like this. “I’ll need to talk to your people, as well as the museum staff, so it would be helpful if you let them know I’m coming. Otherwise my kind” --a twitch of her fingers set energy dancing above them briefly-- “aren’t usually given the time of day.”

“Of course. I shall do so.” Syndran stood and bowed. “I thank you for taking my case, Miss Shrike, and look forward to your success.”

“Two things, Mr. Syndran,” she spoke up as he turned toward the door. She waited until he paused and looked back to continue. “I will, of course, endeavor to find this relic on my own, but should I require an expert’s... knowledge of its history, say, is outside help acceptable?”

His nose wrinkled briefly. “If you must. But as few others as possible, and only those you trust to keep it in strictest confidence.”

“Understood.”

“And the second thing, Miss Shrike?”

She smiled. “One third estimated payment is due upfront.”

“Oh, obviously.” He returned the smile and pulled out his checkbook.

----

She made some good progress between that afternoon and the next day. Interviews with the caravan guards and those responsible for the artefact collection gave insight to their procedures--which were indeed top-notch; it was impressive someone had managed to find a weakness--and how long the pieces were out of their sight coming through city customs.

“Don’t see why that matters,” the pink-haired courier who’d been in charge of the caravan commented. “We checked them all when we got through; made sure everything was still there. Standard procedure.”

“When you say you checked, is this a thorough examination or just a glance to make sure it’s still there?” Xaeryn asked, glancing at the notepad balanced on her knee.

“There’s no fine-tooth comb involved,” came the somewhat tart and harried reply, “but we do look to confirm it’s there and undamaged so nothing undeserved can later be blamed on us. The company has a sterling reputation for a reason, Miss Shrike, and the guild would very much like to keep it that way.”

“Hence your boss coming to me instead of the police.” Xaeryn tapped her pen against her chin and skimmed over her notes. “I think I have everything I need, Miss Aerin. Thank you for your time.”

Aerin gave a sharp nod. “Of course. Anything to get this cleared up and the artefact found as quickly as possible.” She flicked a worried glance toward the notebook as Xaeryn slipped it in her handbag. “How much did you write down? A lot of our procedures are trade secrets; if someone should see...”

Xaeryn laughed and withdrew the notepad again, flipping it open to show the other woman the symbols that filled the pages. “Never fear, your secrets are safe with me. An added bonus of my own shorthand; no one else can read my notes.”

“Smart.” A brief hesitation. “No one? You’re sure?”

“Well, perhaps the friend who helped develop it initially, but I’ve tweaked it since then.” She flipped the pad closed and stowed it in her bag. “I think it would take a little work even for him. We worked it out to take faster notes in class, but taking faster notes also come in handy in my line of work.”

Aerin relaxed and nodded again. “I’m sure it does. Thank you for the reassurance, Miss Shrike.”

“Of course. Have a good day.”

“You as well.”

With the last of the days’ intended interviews behind her, Xaeryn headed back to her office. Now to review what she’d learned from all the sources together. She was confident she had plenty to give herself at least a couple leads worth pursuing, even if there wasn’t enough for a scry.

---

It took a day and a half of running herself off her feet for Xaeryn to burn through the leads she’d found without much to show for it. She’d been unable to track down the specific guard who checked that portion of the shipment, but his supervisor assured her such an important collection would have been treated with utmost care, seeming miffed at the insinuation otherwise. None of the drivers or other courier employees had noticed anything unusual once they passed through customs, no interruptions or suspicious folks in the streets.

Even scrying had fizzled out without so much as a vague semblance of where it might be.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Xaeryn dug her fingers into her short hair and glowered at the photographs of the pendent Mr. Syndran had given her. It was so small. So easily concealed. And so simple it would hardly draw attention unless you knew what it was.

She’d been forced to grudgingly admit her minimal progress to Mr. Syndran when he called for an update and it had her in a foul mood. This sort of baloney was not how she kept the lights on. It was time for a new tack.

If she couldn’t (yet) trace where the pendent vanished from, perhaps it would work better to learn more about it; figure where it might be going and get a solid enough knowledge of it she could successfully scry its location. Who would want it badly enough for the hassle of stealing from Whitestone Couriers to be worth their while? Looking into the pendent’s history and provenance seemed the next logical course. Just because Mr. Syndran had told her it was on loan to the collection from the “proper” owners did not mean said owners had told him everything, or indeed, that they’d told the truth. She needed an expert and knew just where to find one.

It had been long enough since her time at Solhadur Academy Xaeryn actually had to look up the telephone number before calling. As she listened to the line ringing, she wondered absently how much of a gentle scolding Headmaster Tevanti would give her for her first contact in more than a decade being to ask for something rather than merely catching up. She’d always been the type not to bother people unless she had to. That was, after all, what she preferred. And her self-reliance had carried her through quite a bit. But she was aware most people would differ from her on that point; Tevanti especially was fond of jawing, so he would surely have words for her long silence.

She let it go to ten rings before giving up. Revelation came with a glance at the clock; it was late enough there was likely no one around to answer. No matter. She could drive out tomorrow. The Academy was in Capra, that wasn’t terribly far. (Not for business, anyway.) Headmaster Tevanti wouldn’t mind one of his favorite students dropping in for an hour or so to discuss a relic from one of his favorite historical periods. She’d even engage in small talk, if he wanted.

Xaeryn smiled to herself and locked both the photographs and her notepad in one of the desk drawers. If that was her plan for tomorrow, she should turn in early, make sure she was well-rested. Time for a trip down memory lane.

---

The morning was uneventful, aside from the troublesome discovery she’d left her office unlocked all night. She was normally more attentive than that, even being on a higher floor. But nothing was disturbed or missing, so Xaeryn shrugged it off and got on with her day.

If she selected her wardrobe with a more critical eye than usual, well, she wanted to look professional. Headmaster Tevanti had been a wonderful mentor, and she wanted to show how far his encouragements about using her bright mind and sharp eye had carried her.

(She wondered, briefly, as she pulled on the royal blue skirt and its matching blouse, accented in deep golden-yellow, if she would see any other familiar faces. But she shook off the warmth of the thought; they’d all scattered to the winds after graduation. Getting to see Tevanti would be enough.)

Satisfied with her ensemble, and needing to fill some time before she left, Xaeryn sat at her desk with her notepad and transcribed everything she knew about the missing pendent(not much), along with questions to ask. She picked out the best of the photographs from Mr. Syndran, just in case, and sighed as she looked at the clock. She’d still be a tad early for it to be polite, especially just dropping in out of the blue, if she left now.

So I’ll drive at a leisurely pace, she argued to herself. Take my time. Allowing a buffer in case there’s trouble along the way is only wise. God in heaven, she wished she could figure why she had worse jitters about this than some dates she’d gone on. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered to the empty office.

She locked the remaining photographs back in her desk, slipped the chosen one and her notepad in her handbag. After a moment’s internal debate, she slipped one of her stiletto knives down in her boot as well. Solhadur was far from dangerous, but it was prudent to have some measure of protection when traveling alone. She grabbed a hat on her way out the door--which she made certain to lock this time--and had it securely on her head by the time she reached the car.

----

Despite her efforts to make it a leisurely drive out to Capra, and weather that was perfect for that goal, Xaeryn still found herself standing in the entrance hall of Solhadur Academy at an earlier hour than would usually be considered polite for impromptu business meetings. She debated walking the grounds for a while, revisiting some memories from her time here, but decided simply apologizing for her early arrival was the better course of action.

With a final steadying breath and running one hand down her blouse and skirt to chase away wrinkles, Xaeryn headed for the reception desk. She smiled at the young woman behind it. “Good morning.”

The receptionist blinked, seeming mildly taken aback by how far up she had to look to meet her visitor’s eyes. “Morning, miss. Office hours don’t start until ten-”

“Oh, I’m not a student here,” Xaeryn said with a laugh. “At least, not anymore. And I do apologize for the early appearance, the drive out went much faster than anticipated.”

A brow twitched at that. “And what is it that brings you to Solhadur, miss...?”

“I’m doing research on a selection of artefacts and haven’t been able to turn up much on one.” It was barely a lie; she had read a bit on the other exhibition pieces, even if the pendent was the only one she needed to go deeper. “It’s from a period I know is of particular interest to the headmaster, so I was hoping to speak to him for a while, see if he could help.”

The receptionist pursed her lips. “Former student, you say?”

Xaeryn nodded. “If he’s busy first thing, I don’t mind waiting.”

““No, actually, being early is smart,” the receptionist said with a light laugh. “His hours are more full at the later end of things. This would be the best opportunity if you want some of his time.” She glanced over Xaeryn once more, then nodded. “You can go up. Third door--”

“On the left. I remember,” Xaeryn finished. “Thank you.”

“You might actually beat him there,” the receptionist laughed. “He isn’t always punctual.”

“I remember that, too,” Xaeryn returned with a grin. “Like I said, I don’t mind waiting. It’ll be good to see him again, few more minutes won’t hurt.” She toyed with one of her earrings as she headed up the stairs, steps lingering and heavy with nostalgia.

It was almost exactly as she remembered. A few portraits replaced or rearranged, new photographs from after she left. New name placards outside the doors she passed. The headmaster’s office door was closed, and a light inquiring rap of her knuckles brought no response.

Looks like she was right, Xaeryn thought with a smile, leaning against the chair outside the office to wait. Her gaze drifted to the high ceiling, following the details of familiar carvings to the scenes painted on the ceiling itself. Slightly faded from what she remembered, but that was to be expected after a decade--

“Xaeryn?!” The voice, still familiar even after years apart, sounded like he’d seen a ghost.

Her heart lurched in her chest and she’d spun around before the impulse to do so had even fully registered, his name tumbling from her lips unprompted in return. “Red?!”

He crossed the remaining distance between them in just a few strides(God, he’d gotten taller, how was that even possible?), barely remembered to set the books he carried on the chair before wrapping her in a hug.

Xaeryn didn’t even flinch, and only just managed to keep her grip on her handbag as she hugged him back. He still smelled of old books and ink and sunshine and she smiled at the memories it stirred.

Liefred Antiqua, her seatmate in any classes they shared and best friend regardless of how many they didn’t for the entirely of her time at Solhadur. Friendly, charming, and just as fond of books as he was people. (The nights they’d spent pressed shoulder to shoulder reading in the library were still among her favorite memories.) Between his warm nature and classic good looks, he’d had half the student body swooning  after him, and yet despite the sharp contrast to Xaeryn’s more reserved and self-reliant bent, they’d still spent most of their time together. Their friendship was the strongest of the few she’d formed at Solhadur, and Xaeryn valued it immensely.

(Too much to risk on anything like admitting when the sight of his smile sent something that was definitely not friendship fluttering in her chest. It was just a crush, it would go away.)

( And then it didn’t.)

They’d both had plans to travel after graduation, and she couldn’t count on all her fingers combined the number of times she’d almost suggested they do it together. But in this one thing, she never could quite summon the nerve. And before she knew it, her departure date had arrived and they were hugging farewell, and come with me wouldn’t unstick from her throat. After a few months’ silence stretched between them--both traveling and unsure where the other might be, obviously--she’d resigned herself to their paths never crossing again, much as the thought hurt.

And yet here he was.

All the memories flew through her mind in the few seconds their hug lasted, and had a lump starting in her throat by the time they parted.

“Wonderful as it is to see you,” Red began as he stepped back to reclaim his books and run a glance over her, “what are you doing here?”

Xaeryn cleared her throat as she returned the apprising glance with one of her own. He still looked practically the same. A few inches taller, shoulders a bit more broad, and an attempt had been made to tame his bright red hair. It had only achieved partial success, and combined with the warm glint in his green eyes, he still was the same Red she knew. (The same Red she’d been more than a little in love with, even if she’d never dared the risk of admitting it.)

“I’m doing research,” she said, reaching up to tug the back brim of her hat as she glanced at the office door. “Into some artefacts. I wanted to ask Headmaster Tevanti about one in particular that’s being difficult.”

Red grimaced and fumbled his books. “Did you not hear, Xaer?” His voice went soft on the nickname, despite them being alone. Voices did carry in these halls, as they very well knew. “Tevanti died.”

She blinked, shock and sorrow curling in her chest. “Wh- How? When?”

“Not long after you left, actually,” he said, raking his free hand through his hair and tousling it out of respectability. “You know he’d been having problems with his heart. It gave out a few months after you left.” His brow furrowed. “I’m surprised you weren’t told when you set an appointment.”

“I didn’t so much set an appointment as show up looking to talk,” Xaeryn admitted with a soft, wry snort. “And I did simply say the headmaster when speaking to the receptionist.” She cocked her head. “Who would that be, now?”

Red smiled sheepishly, half-bit his lower lip. “Me, actually.” He shifted the books to one arm and opened the office door. Slightly nonplussed by two such major revelations in a row, Xaeryn was silent as she followed him in.

“I thought you wanted to travel,” was the first thought to pop in her head and then out her mouth as she looked around the office. It was spacious, lined with jam-packed bookshelves(He must be in heaven), and in a state of... corralled disarray that was so very Red it made her smile despite the news about Tevanti.

“I did,” Red replied, setting the books on his desk. “And I got to, at least a bit.” He tucked a handful of papers inside an open tome occupying one of the chairs, flipped the book closed, and set it on a side table so he could offer her a seat.  “I’d already left when he passed, so Professor Rumi and some others kept things going until I got back.” Rather than sit in the chair behind the desk, he shuffled a small stack of books onto the floor and sat in the one next to Xaeryn’s as he continued. “He’d... wanted me as his successor, Xaeryn.”

“That makes sense.” The words were out  before she could weigh them, spurred by the disbelief in his hesitation. “You’re brilliant, charming, and have a history with the school.” Her face warmed in the wake of being so candid, and Xaeryn glanced over at the large painting of Tevanti that hung on the wall between two bookshelves. He knew what he was doing. “You’re a logical choice.”

Red laughed warmly. “High praise from the smartest student in our class.”

“But far from the most charming,” she countered with a wry smile.

The warmth of his gaze didn’t abate. “I’ve always appreciated your-”

“Bluntness?”

“Straight-forwardness,” Red substituted, and was smiling when she looked his way. “An ability to cut to the heart of the subject is an invaluable skill.”

Xaeryn gave a faint shake of her head. “As is your kindness. But speaking of the heart of the matter...”

“Ah, right. You came here for a reason.” He pushed his unbuttoned shirtsleeves up toward his elbows. “I can’t promise to know as much as Tevanti would have, but I’ll certainly do my best to help.”

“Actually...” She snapped open her handbag to pull out the photograph and her notepad. “You’ve done a lot of research on pre-Autarchy history, so you might be able to help more than you think.” She set the photograph on the desk and Red cocked his head to look at it.

“Solimer’s torch...” he murmured, turning the photograph for a better look as his gaze gained that focus of a niche interest being whetted. (Which, for Red, meant she was about to hear everything he knew about the pendent’s history in too much detail to called a summary, and Xaeryn found herself leaning forward slightly in anticipation.) He glanced up at her. “Isn’t this one of the pieces in that exhibit about to open in Haven?”

She nodded. “That’s why I’m researching it.” She bit her lip but barely hesitated on the gamble of her next words. ‘Those you trust’, Mr. Syndran had said, and there was no one she trusted more than Liefred Antiqua. “It was stolen, and I was hired to find.”

His head came up, derailed from the growing ramble on the pendent’s history.  “Oh?”

“I’m a detective,” Xaeryn said, playing with one of her earrings. She laughed softly. “Scrying does give a considerable leg up to finding things. Or people. But that only works when--”

“You know enough about them,” Red nodded. “So this visit is for business, rather than personal.”

“Mostly, yes,” she conceded, resting one hand on his knee. I didn’t know you’d be here.  “But I was more than willing to chat with Tevanti” --there was a pang in her chest--”which most definitely extends to you as well, Headmaster Antiqua.”

His neck and ears went faintly pink as he laughed. “Surely we don’t need to be quite so formal, Detective Shrike?”

“Just ‘Miss’,” she returned with a laugh of her own, withdrawing her hand to instead fiddle with her notepad. “I work for myself, not the cops.” There might’ve been a little pride in her voice at the words, but it was well-earned.

“I thought you wanted to travel,” Red said, turning her own remark back on her.

“And travel I did,” Xaeryn said lightly. “For quite a while, even. But a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one,” he teased. “All kidding aside, Miss Shrike, I’m sure you’re a brilliant investigator.”

She smiled, chuckling at the playful glint in his eye even as her ears warmed at the praise. “Thank you. And on that note, what can you tell me about the pendent?”

“Right, right. You’re here on business.” Amusement lingered in Red’s eyes even as he turned back to the photograph. His sleeves started to slide and he shoved them back up again. Xaeryn very deliberately kept her focus on the photograph, not his arms--or hands--as he tapped one finger at the center of the obsidian pendent. “This was a protection...  charm, I suppose you’d call it, worn by the head of the Solimer tribe ages ago. Literal ages. Without refreshing my memory, all I can tell you is they were one of the few tribes whose wanderings regularly took them through the heart of the Jalis desert, and yet they always fared better on those journeys than the other tribes, which was credited to this pendent.”

“So it is magical?” Xaeryn leaned closer to look over the piece again, not that a photograph could do it full justice. This was a familiar position; the two of them bent over a shared project, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that moment.

“Possibly?” Red shifted and his shoulder bumped hers. “ The story goes that on their first attempt to journey through, they saw a light, like a torch, keeping pace with them. It only showed up at night, and seemed far enough away from their caravan the chief felt it was too dangerous to let anyone go after it to see what it was. Their wariness at its presence, however, kept them vigilant enough they were able to see and fend off any wild animals that came after them, and it did nothing except travel their same path, so they let it be. 

“A couple weeks into their journey, as their supplies were starting to run low, the chieftain’s wife was out hunting and strayed far enough in search of food that the sun started setting while she was out. As the skies grew dim she could see the Torch, much larger than they usually did from the caravan, though it was floating away. Seized by good old-fashioned curiosity” --he paused to wink at her and Xaeryn bit back a smile-- “she followed the light rather than work her way back to camp. She kept after it long enough night had nearly fallen when it crested a ridge and disappeared. She hastened after it, and when she made it over the ridge, found herself standing by a waterspring the likes of which they’d never seen. When she looked around for the light she’d followed, there was no sign of it, save a black rock that lay at her feet. There were no other rocks anywhere nearby, so she decided this must be what had caused the torch-like light her tribe had seen. 

“She carried it with her when she returned to the tribe with news of water, and the Solimer took it as a sign of the gods’ favor. The chieftain had it bound in bronze” --he traced a finger along the lines of the coiled setting-- “to be worn as a way to hold that favor. It was passed from leader to leader and from all accounts they had far better luck surviving the desert than the other tribes for a long time.”

“Was that not likely just them knowing better how to handle themselves? If they traveled those portions of the desert more frequently, of course they were better prepared.”

“Maybe.” Red shrugged. “We have no firsthand written records from any of these tribes, just legends and history relayed orally. And a lot of the second-hand ones were... lost when the Autarchy came to power. From the way the stories run, after generation of favor from the pendent, it was lost when the Solimer were defeated in a skirmish over resources with another tribe. Their next several trips went so poorly it cost over half their number, and they wound up assimilated into other tribes within the next couple decades just to survive.”

“Sad,” Xaeryn murmured, though she wondered if the pendent’s loss had become a self-fulfilling prophecy if they believed in it that strongly. “And what happened to the pendent after that?”

“That’s all I know off the top of my head,” Red said sheepishly as he sat back, running a hand through his hair. “Anything more I’d have to research. To refresh my memory.”

“Oh, that’s all? Tsk, tsk, Liefred, you’re slipping,” she teased, then snorted a wry chuckle. “Of course, it’s more than I had.” She showed him the scant lines on a single page of her small notepad.

Red smiled at the sight of the shorthand and let the playful ribbing slide as he ran a finger over the page. “You tweaked it.”

“A bit, to make it jive better with detective work.” Xaeryn tucked the pad back in her handbag. She’d been so caught up listening to him talk she’d not taken a single note. “I’m certain you could work it out with a little time.”

“Oh, time-” Red’s gaze flew to the clock at the same moment there was a knock and muffled “Headmaster?” at the door. “Damn. Forgot I have a meeting.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Tribulations of being in charge. Just a minute!” he called toward the door, then, to Xaeryn, “I can look into this more in my free time, if you’d like.”

What free time? she almost asked, looking at the stacks of books and papers everywhere. But she swallowed that in favor of, “That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

“Any specific information you need?” Red asked as they stood.

“Anything you can find is welcome, but specifically.... What happened to the pendent after the Solimer lost it, who would have claim of ownership, if ownership is contested... anything like that. I want to find it, but part of that may very well lie in figuring out who would have most reason to steal it in the first place.” Xaeryn pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “So I don’t wind up nagging you,” she laughed. “You can call when you find something. The telephone’s in my office, but I live adjacent, so I’ll always hear it.”

Red nodded and slipped the card in his pocket. “I’ll try not to take too long.”

“Much appreciated. Also...” She grimaced slightly. “This is something of a secret; the Couriers don’t want it being common knowledge.”

“Understandable,” he said as they started toward the door. “Oh, don’t you need this?” He reached back for the photograph and held it out to her.

“Yes, thanks.” Xaeryn smiled and tried not to let the flutter in her chest when their fingers brushed as she took it gain purchase. She slipped the photograph back in her handbag as Red opened the door. Given the student waiting in the hall, she was the picture of professionalism--aside from the twinkle in her eye--as she nodded farewell. “Thank you for your time, Headmaster.”

Several things flashed through Red’s eyes, the brief desire to strangle her, a loud burst of laughter, an eyeroll, but he settled on a warm smile, wide enough his dimples just started to show. “Happy to help, Miss Shrike.”

She was still fighting a grin as she turned to descend the stairs, heart practically singing with warmth. Of all the lovely surprises... Regardless of whether she succeeded or failed, this case was already among the most worthwhile she’d ever taken, simply for bringing him back into her life.

[slashmebois]

Exhausted

“Hi !

If it's okay may I please have Bo sinclair x reader? Just reader been up for like two days straight because they're super busy but also super exhausted and they end up passing out? Like how would Bo react?” (Anon)

Oh my goodness, of course you can. Dirty garage man lives in my head rent free. Hope this is close-ish to what you were expecting Nonny!

Living in Ambrose was generally a quiet life, save for the occasional visitors. But even their noisy presence was quickly snuffed out and put on display. You had grown accustomed to the lazy days and the hard graft of luring people in and helping to move their bodies after Vincent or Bo dealt with them.

As much as you loved helping Bo with his passion project, it didn’t pay for the food on your table. There was a little money in visitor’s pockets here and there, but most people carried cards these days. So, when someone from your old life messaged with the offer of a paid remote research position you felt you would be an idiot to refuse. You just didn’t realise how much work it would be.

Bo had scrunched his nose up when you told him you needed to stay home for a week or two, and asked, “what’s wrong with the garage?”, but he hadn’t pushed you to come with him. Vincent was downstairs in the basement all day and Lester was waiting for hapless folks to show up, so your days were pretty lonely, but you told yourself that was good for your focus.

The first day went pretty well, you found what you thought were relevant articles and went into some critical evaluation before sending them over to the project manager. The second day got off to a worse start, your manager had sent the articles back telling you they were irrelevant because of something or other. You groaned in frustration and went about finding articles that fit their very niche description. From there on out it became a back and forth of you finding articles and evaluating them, and your manager being a hard-ass, or as you preferably thought of them A DICK. You were staying up later and later, eventually resulting in you forgoing sleep altogether. You would get in bed with Bo, using your crappy laptop, and as soon as he fell asleep you would sneak away to the kitchen table to continue your work.

Vincent was the first to notice your dark and baggy eyes, putting a hand on your shoulder one morning and cocking his head, “I’m fine Vinny, just not sleeping great, don’t worry”. He stood there a moment longer, looking uncertain before walking away to make breakfast, and you felt a pang of guilt. You weren’t exactly lying; you just didn’t want any of them to worry. They were all so good to you. And you knew that if Vincent got too worried, he would tell Bo, and that would not go well for sure.

Slowly but surely your manager started to give better responses to the articles you sent, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The nightmare was nearly over, you could start typing up the research into a document. With renewed inspiration and a lot of caffeine you set to work writing it up. Bo came home from work that evening and was surprised by you actually greeting him.

“You’re in a good mood y/n”

“Sure am, got a good chunk of work done. How about we celebrate on the weekend? Grab a couple beers, watch a trashy movie?”

His smile made your heart flutter, “I’d love that y/n. Don’t stay up too late now. Now come give your man a kiss”

You jump to your feet, tripping on the laptop cord in the process. You fall forwards and Bo catches you, smirking.

“You falling for me again baby?”

Your cheeks flush, “Always, you know me, just clumsy”

He grasps your hair and presses his lips to your head, inhaling, “For real, don’t stay up too late though, bed feels empty if I ain’t got you next to me. And well, feels like I’m waking up to an empty bed in the morning a lot recently.”

You smiled up at him, “I’ll be up as soon, promise”, Unfortunately, it was a promise you had to break.

Around 2am, your laptop cut out. The plug had pulled away from the wall when you tripped. But you hadn’t noticed.

You stared blankly at your reflection in the screen, numbness welling up inside you. When was the last time you saved? You couldn’t remember. What was the point? You put your heart and soul into it, but it was all crumbling to ash in your hands. You sat still as a rock for a moment before slowly raising yourself up and plugging your laptop back in. The rest of your night is spent catching up, as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

A voice is calling you. You can hear it faintly as you monotonously type a letter at a time. It isn’t until a hand is waved in front of your face you blink back to reality and look up to a concerned looking Bo.

“Y/n. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve been trying to get your attention for 5 minutes”

“Wha- Uh, sorry. Was really focused on this…um…this thing”

“I can tell, it was your turn to cook, remember?”

Your brain slowly ticks, as you look over to the clock. Fuck, he’s right. And you’re making him late for work.

“Oh god, Bo. I’m so sorry. I’ll just whip something up real-“

You feel your legs fall from under you as you stand and see Bo’s eyebrows knit together as he lurches towards you. And then your vision blurs out to black.

You feel very warm. It’s like there’s an all-encompassing glow surrounding you. You try to remember what came before but it’s just so comfortable here. You were at the kitchen table. And you were having breakfast? No. You fell and Bo…

You gasp awake, looking around to ascertain your surroundings. You’re in your bedroom, Bo’s metal band posters adorning the walls, and the little plants you keep on every surface. You also see Jonesy curled up on the bed, her ears perking up as she sees you rouse. You eyes come to rest on Bo who is sat on the edge of the bed staring at you.

“Hey Bo”

His lips firm up, before he lets out a sigh, “Hey.”, it’s short and curt. Fuck, he’s mad at you.

“I uh, I fell huh?”

“You could say that”

The silence is palpable.

“Look I’m real sor-“

“Don’t. You must have known you were being an idiot. I sure did. I thought you were just getting up earlier, getting less sleep. But fuck. You weren’t sleeping at all were you? All for what, some goddamn fucking job?!” His voice starts at a steady volume and rises.

You can feel yourself choking up, “It ain’t just some job. I, I just wanted to help. I thought if I made some money I could help out, get some groceries, cook a nice meal”

“WOULDN’T FUCKING MATTER IF YOU’RE DEAD Y/N” he yells, throwing his cap from his head across the floor, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SCARED I WAS. I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKIN’ DEAD LIKE MAMA” he swipes angrily at his eyes, and his hoarse voice trembles out, “I don’t wanna lose the best thing to happen to me. Just please, we can handle money. I want you here with me, chatting shit with me in the garage, sharing dinner with all of us, cuddling up at the end of the day.” He faces away from you, and you can see the tension in his back.

You let the tears flow freely from your eyes, “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll do better. I’ll set myself hours and stick to them. And if that’s not good enough, I’ll quit.” You kneel on the bed and reach your arms over his shoulders, he tenses a little more and then relaxes back into you. “I’ll be better Bo”, your hand comes to his face and he allows you to guide him to your lips. He kisses you deeply, reaching around to grab you tight.

This. This is where you belong. In Bo’s arms. Fuck everything else.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hello! So, I mean, this might be out of the blue, ambiguous and crazy to answer (but it's something I think about a lot, and you touched upon it in a previous ask and would love your further perspective on!) but let's say, at the end of The Return of The King, Grima lived! What do you personally think his journey and path would look like from there?

Grima asks are never out of the blue - I always want them <3 Thank you so much for asking!!

--

man ok - well Grima at the end of ROTK is in a really dark place. Frodo, Gandalf et al first run into Grima and Saruman on the road near the misty mountains as the make their slow return journey from Gondor. 

As they (Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf) came out again into the open country at sundown they overtook an old man leaning on a staff, and he was clothed in rags of grey or dirty white, and at his heels went another beggar, slouching and whining. 

[...]

‘Get up you idiot!’ he (Saruman) shouted to the other beggar, who had sat down on the ground; and he struck him with his staff. ‘Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I’ll give you no crust for your supper!’ 

The beggar turned and slouched past whimpering: ‘Poor old Grima! Poor old Grima! Always beaten and cursed. How I hate him! I wish I could leave him!’ 

‘Then leave him!’ said Gandalf. 

a man who has never been in an abusive situation in his life, clearly. 

‘One thief deserves another,’ said Saruman (to Merry), and turned his back on Merry, and kicked Wormtongue, and went away towards the wood. 

Great guy, Saruman. 

And the famous scouring of the Shire bit that everyone on here misremembers when it comes to Grima’s whole situation: 

But Frodo said: (...) But I will not have him (Saruman) slain. It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing. Go Saruman, by the speediest way!’ 

‘Worm! Worm!’ Saruman called; and out of a nearby hut came Wormtongue, crawling, almost like a dog. ‘To the road again, Worm!’ Said Saruman. ‘These fine fellows and lordlings are turning us adrift again. Come along!’ 

[Saruman tries to stab Frodo as he leaves and Sam gets ready to shank a bitch. Frodo stops him saying: ‘...He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us; but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it.’ ...]

He (Saruman) walked away, and the hobbits made a lane for him to pass; but their knuckles whitened as they gripped on their weapons. Wormtongue hesitated, and then followed his master. 

‘Wormtongue!’ called Frodo. ‘You need not follow him. I know of no evil you have done to me. You can rest and food here a while, until you are stronger and can go your own ways.’ 

Wormtongue halted and looked back at him, half prepared to stay. Saruman turned. ‘No evil?’ he cackled. ‘Oh no! Even when he sneaks out at night it is only to look at the stars. But did I hear someone ask where poor Lotho is hiding? You know, don’t you Worm? Will you tell them?’ 

Wormtongue cowered down and whimpered: ‘No, no!’

‘Then I will,’ said Saruman. ‘Worm killed your chief, poor little fellow, your nice little Boss. Didn’t you, Worm? Stabbed him in his sleep, I believe. Buried him, I hope; though Worm has been very hungry lately. No, Worm is not really nice. You had better leave him to me.’ 

A look of wild hate came into Wormtongue’s red eyes. ‘You told me to; you made me do it,’ he hissed. 

Saruman laughed. ‘You do what Sharkey says, always, don’t you, Worm? Well, now he says: follow!’ He kicked Wormtongue in the face as he grovelled, and turned and made off. But at that something snapped: suddenly Wormtongue rose up, drawing a hidden knife, and then with a snarl like a dog he sprang on Saruman’s back, jerked his head back, cut his throat, and with a yell ran off down the lane. Before Frodo could recover or speak a word, three hobbit-bows twanged and Wormtongue fell dead. 

A sad end to a very sad life. 

-

So that’s the canon ending, obviously. A very neat, pat ending where all the baddies are dead, everyone who is broken will disappear into an asylum and/or die take a boat to the grey havens and life will move on. 

How nice. 

-

Alright, now for the speculation! My favourite thing. 

Assuming Grima lived, god knows what his journey afterwards would look like. He’s mentally (and physically) in a bad way after having been physically (and emotionally) abused and starved by Saruman for the last year/two years. Saruman may have lost his powers, but he’s still terrifying force to be reckoned with. I don’t know how much Grima would be capable of on his own in terms of survival. 

That said, Grima’s made it this far. He’s clearly got something in him that’s keeping him alive. Something in him wants to live. It might not know how to go about doing that, but it’s there, and that’s important. 

So he’s stabbed Saruman, A+ work. The hobbits don’t shoot him. The question is then: does he take up Frodo’s offer or does his fuck off into the wilderness. 

I can see him going either direction, honestly. But I suspect, given that he’s starving and in a bad way physically, I suspect he’d stay for a time. Now, considering what’s happened to him in the general vicinity of Bagend, I’m not sure how long Grima will stay, but I do think he’d rest there for a short while. Get a proper meal or two in him. Take a bath. That sort of thing. 

From there he could go to somewhere like Bree or Dale, take up a new name/new life and try and move on, as much as a person can in a world that has absolutely no support networks for people who have gone through bad shit. 

If he stayed for a longer period with Frodo? I could see Sam putting him to work. 

‘I need someone to help me garden.’ 

‘...I know about horses?’

‘Plants are easier, trust me.’ 

‘....Are they though?’ 

Considering the fact that Grima has been dehumanized (Worm; like a dog; cur) and treated as worthless/unworthy by one of the more powerful beings in Middle Earth - and one who was once Great! Who was once wise and wonderful! I suspect he’s going to have a difficult time accepting kindness? 

Frodo, of course, would be generous and understanding, because it’s Frodo and that’s the measure of man he is. Truly one of the nicest and most forgiving and tender people in the series. 

Aragorn said of Grima that if he walked out of Orthanc alive it would be too good for him. 

(Everyone is a lot meaner in the books. Funnier, yes, but also meaner. Then there’s the weird Faramir moment where he’s all up on that “Numenorian Blood Quantum Is Important” nonsense (tell that to your brother who has no blood of the Westernese in him...) There’s a lot of Oooof moments). 

Frodo, though, Frodo is one of the genuinely kind and loving people who would never think such cruel things about anyone. 

But back to Grima, I think the line Gillian Flynn wrote about how when you’re weaned on poison, it makes kindness seem like a cruelty is very relevant here. The first step to healing is allowing yourself to admit that you deserve to be healed, that you deserve love. That’s a very hard thing to allow, to acknowledge is something you are worthy of having. 

And so it would be difficult, for him, to accept kindness and gentleness from Frodo, or anyone else. But if he was doing something to “earn” it, that might make it more palatable. 

Which is a shame, since if there is anyone who understands the power and allure of the dark lord/Saruman etc. and how that can mess you up and contort you into someone you don’t recognize anymore, it’s Frodo.

-

Would Grima go back to Rohan? I don’t think so. Unless there were some wild, unexpected circumstances that brought him there, I truly don’t see him returning home. He’s torched that bridge pretty successfully - at least, I’m sure that’s how he sees it. 

Now if he did. If something Bat Shit happened - and he went back. It would be wild and very emotional.  

A Rider of Rohan, lost in the shire: I’m looking for a Mr Baggins? I understand he might know where Gandalf is? We sort of need some magic help in Rohan. 

Hobbit: Turn left at the end of the lane, go past Grubby Harold’s llama farm, stop at the intersection with the red sign, take the third exit of the roundabout, turn right, turn left, turn left again, take the second switch back up the hill, at the crest of the hill, take the path that turns left at the big tree that someone carved Fuck Lobelia into and that should get you close. 

Rider: 

Rider: Right. 

Rider eventually shows up, Grima’s out front updating Sam on some shit that Pansy Fielding said to Fardulf Braceblower, an ongoing war that has existed since the Dawn of Time. Sam is like “Please never stop telling me all the gossip, I live for this shit.”

Frodo: How did you hear about this? 

Grima: I might have set up an informant’s network but it’s solely to trawl for entertaining gossip.  

Rider approaches: Oh dear gods. 

Grima: 

Grima: Go get fucked, Gundahar. 

Sam: Friend? 

Grima & Gundahar: No. 

Anyway. The rider tells Frodo that he’s after Gandalf because XYZ is happening in Rohan and Eomer-king is annoyed and “wants it dealt with, preferably yesterday”. Grima knows what’s up because you know, resident Spook Master also he was spending a lot of time around a lore-filled Wizard. Might as well get something for the years of mistreatment. 

Gundahar: He’s not coming back to Rohan. 

Frodo: We’re going on a road trip, Sam. Let’s get packed. 

Sam: I’m so ready for this. 

Grima: But I’m not going back to Rohan. 

Gundahar: He’s not coming back to Rohan. 

Frodo: Too late, he’s coming with us. Neither of us can be left alone for too long or we go weird in the head. 

Merry: Oh we’re going to Rohan? Well, as a member of the royal court I’m coming. 

Gundahar: .... How is this happening? 

Grima: Hobbits, they move in herds. 

Pippin: WAIT FOR ME! 

Gandalf is UPSET that he has to travel with Grima. Grima says it’s mutual. He doesn’t like wizards. Especially wizards in white. He gets weird about hoarding food when Gandalf is around. 

Grima then has to visit Theoden’s grave and have a lot of emotions about everything and it’s a Lot.

I don’t think he’d stay, though. Either he’d go back with Frodo or he might go on to Gondor or out east or something. Travel for a while. 

- 

I’ve gone off on some tangents here. Ahem. 

But in general, I see his journey going in one of two directions: one where he fucks off after murdering Saruman and takes up a life somewhere else like Bree, or wherever, probably drinks too much and is miserable until he dies. 

The other is where he accepts Frodo’s offer and either just chills in the Shire being the resident gossip-monger and mischief maker (Frodo: NO MISCHIEF. Grima: we can make a little mischief .., as a treat?) or he accepts the offer, stays for a while to get back on his feet and shake off some of the darkness, then goes off to travel around. Maybe he settles somewhere, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless if he stays or goes, it is a better ending to his life than he probably hoped for or expected. 

And it shows the power and importance of kindness and love. Healing only happens if there is love and gentleness. And it’s terrifying - of course it is - but it’s so necessary. 

-

Ok I am so sorry for my dissertation on Grima. I love talking about him so much.  

Thank you!! <3 <3 

[sparrowminder]

Any advice for setting up Discord roleplays (Warrior Cat ones) so that they're successful once launched? O:

I’ve only really participated in the setting up of SoTC, and none of us expected it to get nearly as huge as it is. I’ve been in a couple rp servers that I haven’t been a part of running, but I didn’t really stick with them for long. When I was younger, I also set up a bunch of rp forums, and all of them flopped. But here’s some things that sounds like good advice that I think contribute to the success we’re having with SoTC, and are things that I look at on the occasion I join other rp servers.

1. Identify your hook. What makes the server interesting and unique that’ll set it apart from others? I love seeing people’s fanclans, but these days just having a set of good fanclans with a bit of worldbuilding is not enough to draw me in. There needs to be a hook, either a plot hook or a systems hook, to draw people in. With SoTC, our hook is our clan assignment system, so secrets get revealed in character rather than everyone knowing everything, and our skills/dice system, which is complex under the hood but still easy to use because of our use of custom commands. We also have fun plots, but those are not our main draw. 2. Identify your core audience. The server may be 13+ in rating, but are you aiming it mainly at that age group, or is it really intended for experienced rpers and you just want to leave it open to younger and newer folks? We ended up changing SoTC to 15+ because, while we all knew some 13 year olds who were fine, we had a lot of them coming in and not understanding our systems or having no prior experience rping in paragraph format. You don’t need to do this, but it is helpful to know who the rp is for. While it’s nice if it can be accessible to people who are outside of that audience, you don’t need to bend over backward to accommodate everyone. 3. Strive to make the channels easy to navigate and information easy to find. Categories should be ten channels max, preferably fewer if you don’t need that many. Pin relevant information. Name channels clearly. Use emojis (sparingly) to make categories and important channels easy to identify visually. I see more and more rps having a separate website (tumblr, carrd, etc) for information that doesn’t fit well in Discord, but make it crystal clear if you do this that there is important information there. 4. For goodness sake, be ready to moderate. Be as clear as possible about your expectations for members so you can let people know when they are breaking them. I’ve stepped in a couple servers that had really specific rules and systems regarding in character stuff but very minimal rules about being respectful to other members. Unless the server is intentionally a small, semi-closed community (I consider Feline Fiction to be one, for example, as we rarely have folks join and they’re usually invited by existing members), you cannot expect “be nice” to be enough. 4a. This is a rule that I penned and later introduced to SoTC, that I highly recommend if you want to be able to keep everyone feeling safe and like...generally not doing the uncool stuff that I did when I was a clueless 13 year old on rp forums. I am ok with people taking this particular rule because I personally wrote it and have used it in multiple servers now, and I think it is really important to have something like this to foster a safe community.

“If the mods feel you are playing a disabled, mentally ill, or LGBTQ+ character disrespectfully, we’ll have a chat with you first, but if you don’t fix it this constitutes a warning and the character will need to be changed. Remember, LGBTQ+ cats are allowed and wholly supported! They are also accepted in-character so please no homophobic/transphobic cats.” In SoTC we also have rules where you shouldn’t play a mental illness unless you have personal experience with it (as in, you actually have it) and roleplaying abuse is banned. These, and the no in character -phobia clause, may not be necessary rules if you are specifically dealing with mature/darker themes, but that will be something you’ll need to be ready to moderate. 5. Have an advertisement plan. Disboard is a simple and effective method, but the more you can do the better. Many rp servers do partnerships, the adapted version of forum advertisement, where selected partner servers are allowed to post blurbs and updates in specified ad channels. Tumblr doesn’t hurt, if you can post updates semi-regularly. Make your hook clear everywhere so that people can immediately tell whether the concept interests them. Other folks, feel free to add what makes you interested or uninterested in an rp!