#i just have some really neat people in my circles on tumblr and we don't really talk like at all but i really wanna get to know y'all :'')

[that-dreaming-dragon]

Origin Theory

Asking someone's origin feels like asking someone what's their assigned gender at birth. That's like, undermining who they are as a person, correct gender and all. Maybe there's value in knowing where one came from, but that's pretty personal.

At the least, the alterhuman community at large don't really hound on people for their origin from what I'd seen. It's a lot of people offering up their origin story. Is this a need to be validated due to all the past discourse surrounding spiritual vs psychological origin?

On the same vein, voluntariness. It's another form of origin theory that gets a little, I'm not sure redundant is the right word, but it takes away a lot of personal agency when dealing with something that's your own, one's identity.

With how vastly diverse and just generally limitlessness of alterhuman identities, having something so finite and restrained is so strange. Maybe for presentation towards the newcomer and orthohuman outside the community it's important to keep things simple--box labeled and everything organized like a file cabinet. But within the community? Conversation flows easier, as I observed, when people put not as much stock with the origin theory. Although it is still fun to talk about, speculating one's own "how I came about", it really shouldn't be the "oh no, I'm psychological/spiritual" then proceeds to panic. I donno, I fortunately haven't seen this. Though, I can't remember how it was when I first found the community roughly 5 or 6 years ago, I vaguely recall the emphasis on spirituality with implicitness of how much more important it is than psychological. I guess there is still that lingering around. Although I'd heard how in some circle, it's the reverse. This whole thing is just so dumb and really not cool. I don't have the right word here, but please hear my frustration.

A lot of things with alterhumanity by itself is fascinating. I like hearing about people contemplating whether they are spiritual, psychological, I love hearing the one alien that has a philosophical relationship with their alterhumanity, I know of a couple dragons who start their draconity as artistic expression of the self. These are really cool! And knowing for some the cause of their alterhumanity is from their neurodivergence made me think about myself. Knowing about people that have other lives, whether it's living in parallel with other universes, inside time loops, or having a identity because they will become that one day? That's all really neat.

We don't need to proof who we are within the community. Isn't that one of the point of having a community? We shouldn't need to validate ourselves to the folks who are suppose to be just like us, or at least understand what we are going through in some way.

I mentioned just now how some have identity that they become due to artistic expression, there is a implictness of the voluntariness in there. They are still who they are in the end. (do the end justified the mean? That's when on making decision to do something. not dealing with identity stuff) Personal journey such as alterhuman self discovery are, the whole thing would matter differently to people, some would care for the path they'd took, some only look at where they are, some care for every single moment, some just goes with the flow, and it is all perfectly okay! Because we are all unique individual experiencing our own thing.

I mean, if we are talking about explicitly intensionally created bond towards something, aka linking, that's something explicitly voluntary. Yet quoiluntary exists as a term for people's use, and there is a need for it! There's this focus on a linktype as something you can drop, but there's the concept Anteatype--a identify-as (kin/theriotype) that has been dropped, which makes the whole "something that can be pick up voluntarily and then drop as easily" as the definition people point to kind of null. It's the one post Poppy on tumblr had said

'Paratype' only tells you about the origin of the connection/identity, not its substance.

To me, “otherlinking” only tells me that it was from without, external, applied with a will, to actively create or strengthen a connection, preexisting or not. And then later on if someone feel the need to shift their terminology to better fit their experience, it's a option. Though it can be scary, the community is there to support.

I know at one point I myself also put emphasis on how much my origin is. I mean I did mention me finding that my hearttype is far more spiritual inclined than my kintype. I ascribe to the metaphoric in origin for my kintype these days though. It's not important a conversation, though I do like to ruminate on it myself for my own curiosity.

Course I wish we can completely move away from the need to define these boxes, but I suppose we can treat them like alterhuman identity training wheel. You can use them when you first found the whole concept, it might help to keep things simple and more concrete. Later on, when you are ready to fly, you can gently let them go, or pin them up on your pin board hoard, say "okay, I'd done that, now let's see what else there are". Be a little explorer, except the vast beyond is the little universe within your very self.

[mikeydykey]

my mutuals r so cool and i wanna be friends w each and every single one of them <3

[kerosene-saint]

what mutual am i (made by me cause I thought it would be fun) ASK GAME

[Picture ID: A drawing with 12 circles all different colors and labeled different things, bullet points follow under them.

the first circle is a deep purple with light purple glitter particles. It's labeled "purple glitter" and the bullet points under it say: "fabulous", "I love your aesthetic very much", "you do have an abnormal amount of microplastics in your blood though".

the second circle is a neon green with a lighter green wave around it. it's labeled radioactive. the bullet points for it are "some sort of creature", "you give bioluminessence vibes".

the third circle is a medium pink with dark green leave and a stem on the top. it's labeled starberry. the bullet points are "I think we should bake together", "flower crowns possibly".

the fourth circle is a light seafoam green labeled seafoam green. the bullet points are "maybe a little snobby", "calm yourself", "I don't know why I still follow you tbh", "Maybe I'm just reading you wrong".

the fith circle is multiple colors, in order from top to bottom: very light blue, sky blue, yellow, red, black, purple, pink, to light pink. it's labeled do you like the color of the sky. the bullet points are "you're always on tumblr", "hits post limit daily", "you should go watch some tumblr history videos if you haven't already".

circle number six is a brick pattern labeled throwing bricks. the bullet points are "you're my resource for all of the things happening in the world", "probably really punk or at least an Anarchist".

circle number seven is a red panda's facial fur pattern labeled red panda. the bullet points are "so soft", "very small", "you're so cute", "my favorite silly".

circle eight is a light off white color labeled cu- I mean creme. the bullet points are "Hey there", "I mean you wanted to-", "slash jay".

circle nine is a deep gold color with a light shine to it labeled stay gold. the bullet points are "book reader", "how do you read so many", "pretty cool", "also a nerd".

the tenth circle is a medium purple with a light purple heart in the center. it's labeled my favorite purple. the bullet points are "you're my favorite person on this hellsite", "why are you here, you're so nice", "are you a people pleaser".

the eleventh circle is a bright pink with pastel pink stars labeled barbie dream house. the bullet points are "nostalgia.", "do you live in the past I swear you do", "are those rose tinted glasses comfortable bub".

the final circle is a black color with a red blood splotch. it's labeled Gerard Way in the 2000s. the bullet points are "popular mutual", "I think you're pretty neat and also kind of scary", "probably really sweet but I'm still intimidated". /.End ID]

[personalpagan]

The Jotnär and Liminal Space:

Here is more UPG:

I could get into the historical accuracy of 'Utgarðr,' but to save time: there are people that ascribe to it, and people that don't. I am somewhere in the middle, as I usually take a firm stance on "we will never really know what the ancients believed.'' Essentially, I take all mythology with a grain of salt, use the big picture/metaphor to gain an understanding of the God(s) in question, and move along. However, I did want to delve deeper into the Utgarðr concept. Particularly after the rise of Liminal Space-core. Tiktok and Tumblr have seemed to latch onto the idea of Liminal space, or the Back Rooms, and unsurprisingly, that's made me think of the Jotnär.

The whole premise of Liminal Space is an unoccupied area that, for some reason, seems somewhat familiar but wholly unsettling. Some people even get a sense of nostalgia from certain images. The area doesn't have anything outright scary about it, but instinctually, you know something is wrong with it. There is an intrinsic gut feeling, a knowing that something bad could happen, and that people don't belong in this area. Liminal Space is essentially one big "DO NOT ENTER" sign. But humans possess morbid fascination, so we poke and prode at the feeling of fear, anxiety, and instinct.

Similarly, the Utgarðr has the same sign hanging on its metaphorical door. We know from a conglomeration of myths that the Jotnär occupy harsh lands—snow-capped mountains, the deep sea, the open air, even the space between Realms. This land is inhospitable to us, to even the Gods. It is primordial land that holds something in it that we, as a species, cannot understand. Something that the All-Father sought after ruthlessly in hopes of evading Ragnarök.

I suppose my interest/theory is that Jotnär are Liminal Space. At least, their home is—not neglecting that some Jotnär are, in fact, places. It's been my experience that the Jotnär exude this bizarre sort of feeling. When praying, meditating, and dreaming of them, they often come off as almost...uncomfortable. It's the uncanny, jarring feeling. And I think this genuinly makes sense when comparing to the literature. They are the primordial clan, and so, it would make sense that they occupy The Strange.

The Strange is what I am going to refer to this place/feeling as on this blog, for future reference. Just because I think that encapsulates this experience well; pure, intangible strangeness.

I suppose this could sometimes be applied to the Aesir and Vanir, but I hesitate on that for other literary and historical reasons. The Aesir in particular are Gods of society, in myth they represent human connection, human experiences, etc. Vanir could be considered agricultural Gods, but that is also a human invention, so they too represent key aspects of humanity. So, there is an aspect of familiarity there, which cuts through the uncanny, and destroys the key part in Liminal Space.

To circle back to the original point: Utgarðr is the intangible, the outside. A feeling that our ancestors felt, and so their myths reflected as much. Those myths, put to paper by Christian monks, might not be perfect in terms of accuracy and biased influence, but it gives us a solid idea, a sizable clue. I think it's neat that our ancestors felt that same strangeness.

[theoutsanityshoppe]

Hello! I have a fun story about how I found your blog! I have this OC that I really really love a lot, so I got myself a custom crochet doll of him off of etsy with some christmas money. And while i was searching for which artist to go with, i came across one who was using your little fire-headed detective guy as an example and i thought it was a really cute little design! i can't remember if i did end up going with that artist or a different one but his design really stuck out in my mind because i thought it was so neat. flash forward a bit and i see a commission advertising post from cubesona, who was using that same character as an example and i'm like "oh shit it's this guy again!". and because it was tax return season i got myself that cubesona commission of the same OC i'd gotten the doll of as a little treat for myself. and then we come to recently when i saw cubesona posting the drawing of my boy on his tumblr, and of course i went looking through the tags to see what people were saying about him. and i saw you had called him pretty and it made me really happy! so i go check the post and lo and behold i see the same little firey guy in your header! and i'm like "oh shit! it's all come full circle!!" so uh yeah neither of us knew it but i've kinda been following you for a little bit it seems alsdkjf

This is the single greatest story I could have heard this morning I FREAKING LOVE THIS.

I am suuuuuuuuuuper curious now if you went with the same etsy artist cuz I LOVE her stuff - I actually have two OC's by her and I plan on getting more later! That one, the crochet of Flint, was also the first doll I ever got of him! [I have four now hahahah I keep doing the same as you and every time I have a little extra saved money left over from things I use it to treat my self with more things of my boy] Otherwise that is just CRAZY that it went full circle like that!! I'm glad I have him in my header too since I post all my art to a secondary art blog ahhaha and yes!! your OC IS pretty!!! I loved his design and I absolutely want to know more about him! The one thing I wish cubesona did differently was put actual links/tags to us instead of just typing out our usernames cuz idk if that means the person is on tumblr, on twitter, on some other site... and I don't wanna search haha XD And also!! Thank you for the compliments on Flint~!!! It makes me very happy to hear he pops out to people when they see him adkfgjag I'm extremely proud of his design. ;v; I would be lying too if I said I wasn't saving screencaps of artist who use their art of my boy in their commission examples because it makes me INSANELY proud as an artist ksfdjgakjdfg

@kingkaibosh

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 23-24-25

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

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

AO3 Link

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

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Keep reading

TWENTY THREE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alkonost," he supplied.

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

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

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

"Safe from what?" he demanded restlessly.

"The man in black?" Eliot suggested.

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

"For me?"

"The museum!" Parker exclaimed in sudden realization.

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

"I did," the Russian admitted readily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eliot beamed at the man. "None taken."

I had to agree with both of them, honestly.

"What about Grandmother?"

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

Fedorov looked thoughtful. "Wizard."

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

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

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

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

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

"You are what I have."

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

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

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

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

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

TWENTY FOUR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I'll need my hands free."

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

"Fine."

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

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

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

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

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

Except for two things.

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

"You are missing things. Where are they?"

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

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

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

Everyone looked up. I just grinned at them.

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

He'd laced the glue with iron filings.

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

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

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

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

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

Passing out it was.

TWENTY FIVE

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

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

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

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

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

"I need two in his bedroom."

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

"We?"

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

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

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

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

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

The dog froze, and stepped back, whining.

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

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

Eliot followed. "Harry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It'll evaporate to nothing soon!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are hurt," Eliot accused mildly.

"Leshy like to kick."

"Is anything broken?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He's a civilian, Nate."

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

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

"Can you teach him?"

"In what, two days?!"

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

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

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

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

"Does he?"

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

"I agree with Harry," Eliot added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ophexis]

Hi! I'm alive! Let tell you about the

Elder Scrolls Cookbook!

Winner of the last poll! I know I'm under zero time constraints but sorry for taking a while lmao.

This is kind of going full circle for me, because when I joined tumblr, the very first thing I ever blogged about was my Skyrim playthroughs, not too long before I got into Saints Row and changed my life significantly. So this is kind of nostalgic for me lol. Anyway, onto the book!

The Elder Scrolls cookbook is a CLASSIC. Like I'm pretty sure it's not at all the first "nerdy" cookbook ever made, or even the first cookbook made for a specific franchise or anything, but when this came out it was kind of a big deal, probably because Skyrim was still a big deal lmao. I remember people trading the sweetrolls recipe around.

I kinda wonder if it's one of the first cookbook that tried to stay "in-universe". Because sometimes cookbooks really don't (there are a few Star Wars kids cookbooks that come to mind). But the Elder Scrolls cookbook is in-universe and has little lore snippets in each recipe, which I'm always a fan of.

The book is themed for The Elder Scrolls setting as a whole, but you can tell it came out at the height of Skyrim's popularity lol.

The book starts off with a chapter covering basics, from spice mixes to pie doughs to sauces, which I think is really cool. Not every cookbook has those, and they'll be used throughout the book so it's good to have a look through that chapter. Then the rest of the book is divided between sides, main meals, soups, breads, desserts and drinks. The recipes lean towards hearty recipes, perfect for surviving the harsh wilds of Tamriel.

The Nines know my poor fifth playthrough insomniac mage who I walked manually from Whiterun to the College of Winterhold would have needed it.

The cookbook has a photo for every recipe except one of the meads for some reasons lol. But I'll let that one slide because it's "just" a drink. It's not that hard to put a photo of food on recipes but man it is not standard and I'll complain about it forever. But the Skyrim cookbook has photos, thank the Nines.

I've cooked only one recipe from this book but what a recipe it is. Pictured above on the right, it's the orsimer venison, a sweet, slightly spicy, soy sauce meat recipe that is fuckin delicious and I've made it dozens of time (always with beef bc it's easier to find lol). On the left is the redguard rice, which is a current contender for the recipe I'll make from this for the poll (though I'm also looking at the Companion meatball recipe....which sounds funny said like that lmao). The redguard rice uses ground lamb, and I can't remember ever having lamb before! If I can find it I would definitely like to try.

We also, of course, have the Sweetroll recipe. I haven't made it yet but I recently and FINALLY found a small-sized fluted baking pan so I really want to make them soon.

Overall this is a really solid cookbook, it looks pretty, the photos are huge, there's a little bit of lore and story on every recipe. There are more fish-based recipes than I expected, which isn't as interesting for me but it adds variety. I kinda wish there were a few more main meals in there. I'm also torn on if I'd like the book to be divided by meal types as it is currently, or if it'd be neat to have the chapters be themed around cultures for extra lore flavor, like the DND cookbook. idk!

The recipes are pretty standard and don't tend to go for funky ingredients but I think that's fine. They do tend to go for venison and lamb for meat, which I think makes sense, thinking about Skyrim! (and yes the book is still very heavily focused on Skyrim, thought there are a few recipes from elsewhere) The recipes are hearty, using cheese, meats, lots of veggies and with a significant soup chapter and also lots of desserts. You'll be well fed as you travel Tamriel! Just watch your back for them Dark Brotherhood types.

Bonus themed images bc I feel like it: Some of the few surviving screenshots I had from Oblivion, when our computer couldn't run it well so my dad modded it to run at even lower specs and I'm pretty sure it turned off all the lighting. But I had such a great time.

My khajiit assassin at home uwu

And my main, in casual wear for some reason. She was a heavy armor build lol. And my outlet for making drow, without access to dnd.

ANYWAY hope this was mildly entertaining! I'll try to choose a recipe for this week, but I'm being forced to go into office more often so I can't garantee a time. Currently it's between the redguard rice and the companion meatballs.

Also check out Misohungrie's several few videos of him covering the cookbook and some extra recipes! I love his videos so you should check them out.

[gascon-en-exil]

I am almost never inclined to be political, but as yesterday was Québec Fête Nationale I've been having some more thoughts in their direction.

I have had friends in Montréal for around a decade now; I met two of them in the usual way when they came to visit New Orleans, and I've been a small part of their circle ever since. The more I've learned about Québécois politics from them, the more I've realized that, despite the differences in circumstances, they share many underlying similarities with Louisiana politics, and the political affiliations of the Louisianais in particular, i.e. as opposed to the non-French population of Louisiana, who consider themselves Americans and are politically dominated by the Bible Belt Anglos that control the north of the state. When Louisiana votes red or however you say it in US elections, those are the people to blame.

From what I've seen, Québécois politics are just as dramatic, and their interests defy neat categorization into conservative and liberal causes as defined by Canadian/US politics. A few months ago one of my friends and I discussed this similarity, and how it leads to Canadian/US conservatives calling us liberals and their liberals calling us conservatives - which inspired (in least for me) a moment of solidarity in feeling that no one will ever be on our side. Obviously the motivation behind this differs somewhat; the cause of Québec separatism has had real political weight and supporters and detractors from all across the spectrum, whereas New Orleans entices and reviles all because we are a city committed to the indulgence of every imaginable vice and to the fatalistic, apolitical allure of death. (Also there are the Cajuns, who trust no one outside their own communities and trust the US government even less.) Humorously this has even cropped up in my online life, as I've had trolls on Tumblr, YouTube, and a certain Discord calling me variously a hardline religious conservative or a delusional SJW liberal, according to whichever affiliation they hate.

If I were politically inclined and had the resources to do so, I could see myself moving to Montréal and helping the Québécois cause in what way I could, with an added eye for outreach toward Louisiana and connection with the organizations here dedicated to preserving the French languages and cultures of the state. It's just about the only cause* that I've ever really felt passionate about. Unfortunately I don't think that's ever going to be a feasible goal for me, for financial reasons if nothing else - but every once in a while I can dream of something beyond hedonistic cynicism.

*One might question why I don't feel the same passion about being queer, but as it happens being a gay French New Orleanian has always felt rather effortless - even expected in a way. Anglos, after all, think of French people as kinky pansexuals out to seduce their significant others with our irresistible Latin charm, and New Orleans has for centuries played host to crossdressing Carnival masquerades and drag performances in reputable establishments, to the point that the Pride initiated by New York City almost feels like a footnote here with the wild abandon of Mardi Gras on the one side and dark, raunchy Decadence on the other. It's taken considerably more active effort on my part to affirm myself as a Frenchman here: interested in the broader Francophonie, and invested in the fate - however grim and inevitable - of the Louisianais.

[cyle]

a lot of great replies on this already, thank you everyone!! i wanted to pick some and riff/respond to them (and this also highlights how inadequate our reply system is that i have to screenshot and do this).

yes, this is super important to me as well. the fact that the tags are unique per post/reblog means they're tied just to that person, they don't persist across like content does. there's no "inheritance" of someone else's tag choices.

hello @april, yes, but what would that overhaul look like?

that's the other side of this, yeah!! we added the visibility of tags to the notes view because it's so so so so cool to see what people are whispering to their followers........ but at the same time, it's not really meant to be shared...... that's a very strange dichotomy, and exactly why this is so difficult to navigate.

yeah, this is a great point. on tumblr, we actually used to have "tag moderators" who could control what ended up on tagged pages, and they could pull in or push out posts by modifying the tags on the post. that's a totally different, but equally valid, way of tackling the problem. the hard part, though, is that it doesn't scale very well to MILLIONS of posts PER DAY. honestly i don't know how Reddit does it. i know it can work, but we'd need a better system than just tags.

i'm curious how it could be used for bullying and harassment. if there's an option to "only show my reblog to my followers", do you mean that somebody could reblog my post, and say something awful, and i wouldn't see it? i think ultimately the post author should always be notified of reblogs, despite this setting, to ensure they could report people; it just wouldn't show up in a dashboard.

tagging the tags!! that's a neat idea but it's adding complexity on top of complexity. it's not totally crazy, though. i've thought that maybe we should have pages on tumblr that are "tags of tags".... meaning, you visit tumblr dot com slash game of thrones and it shows posts tagged #got and #game of thrones and #jon snow and whatever else, it "just knows" what tags are related. that's similar.

that's another interesting orthogonal strategy here: make posting on tumblr have more visibility control to certain groups, like livejournal or google circles. the problem with this, though, is how few people end up actually using it. it's a lot of work for something that isn't used a lot.

this is a neat idea, but it's too hard for people to discover and use. Peach (a very fun app and social media network attempt) had the idea of "magic words" you could use in your post to activate fun features. except... nobody could figure out what words unlocked what... so it kinda died before it could gain traction. i fear that trying to introduce a new paradigm of tags with prefix symbols would suffer the same fate.

thank you everyone! keep the feedback coming, if you have thoughts.

the problem of commentary in the tags

"talking in the tags" is a very tumblr-unique emergent usage of tags, and that's very cool. i love emergent behavior, tumblr's full of it. ("emergent" in the sense that folks are using features in ways that weren't intended, but aren't disallowed either.)

but "talking the tags" hurts tumblr's ability to use tags for its original intended function: sorting and organizing and surfacing content based on tags. tumblr really needs to get better at organizing and sorting based on tags, but it's really difficult to do with so much "noise" in the tags. with millions upon millions of posts and reblogs to organize and sift through, the number of tags that are actually "commentary" becomes pretty daunting, even for a complex algorithm to sort through.

and yeah, it's not really noise -- i get that people (myself included) use the tags field as a way of "whispering to followers", since traditionally the tags would only be seen by people viewing a post/reblog directly, like in their dashboard, not in the notes view. that's no longer true, of course -- we now have the option to see "comments and tags" by default in the new notes view.

with all of that in mind, how could we improve posting/reblogging on tumblr in such a way that would make folks use the tag field for tags and not "whispers"? do we need a new field in the post form for "whisper content" that doesn't show up anywhere but for followers? do we need a visibility setting for posts, so you can make it so only your followers will see the post in their dashboards, and on your blog, and not anyone in the notes view? how do we preserve all of this awesome unique behavior without stopping the viral spread of content through reblogs? 🤔

[liberty-barnes]

hellooo! i'm new here on tumblr and i was just wondering if you had any good blog recs that are larry-related? i'm noticing that people on here have way more info than on twitter (as well as just being overall less confusing haha) so i wanted to check out some blogs to just make my experience in the fandom a bit better. thank you so much!!

Me trying to decide between being helpful and gatekeeping my favourite blogs:

Alright, the helpful side won, damn my parents for raising me to share and be kind.

So first off, quick disclaimer: please try your best to follow Tumblr fandom rules when going to these people and don't be rude to them because they're amazing and I love them so if you mess with them I will track you down and make Hell look like an all-expenses-paid trip to Ibiza.

Now that that's out of the way, here are my favourite blogs, the ones I check every day and got me through the research stage when I actually started to get involved in all things fandom:

@twopoppies: queen of fic recs, always has good discourse, her anons can be very sus sometimes so we keep an eye out for those, perfect mix of kind and sassy, wrote this absolute masterpiece that everyone should read and I couldn't resist mentioning

@daisiesonafield-blog: our lord and saviour, her blog is so organised it can only be the work of a witch because no ordinary human has as much patience as she does to keep it all so neat, pretty much every resource you could need as a Larrie can be found on her blog, it's like having your mom give you a little pamphlet with the location of every single item in your house cause you always forget that the red shirt is in the bottom left drawer. As if that wasn't enough, she's also smart, kind, and runs the @larrytimelines blog, so that really just proves my theory that she isn't actually real, just a figment of our imagination

@indiaalphawhiskey: the Biggest of all the Brains, she puts things you only vaguely imagine into coherent words, just God Tier theories and discourse that blow my mind every time I read them. She also wrote Our Lives, Non-Fiction which is fairly well-known on Twitter, at least in my circles, although my personal favourite is Barefoot In Blue Jeans. Overall, if it has words, she's amazing at it.

@awesomefringey: the nicest person I've ever had the pleasure of interacting with, and I sincerely admire her patience. Leading expert in all things thirst over Larry, but scrolling through her blog will also cause you breakdowns 9/10 times cause she's always putting Larry gifs on our dash. She's the dramatic aunt at family gatherings that'll sneak you vodka when your parents aren't looking while also offering to get you to bed when you inevitably get smashed.

@lesbianslovelouis: the SASSIEST and we LOVE IT, she says things like they are, no filtering, no bullshit, just so genuine and honest you can't help but love her. Also at the start of some very important discussions such as Louis' very soft elbows, the Broli secret relationship, and the "Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a cat" ongoing investigation. quick disclaimer tho, if you want to go to her blog, you better follow Tumblr rules and not be an obnoxious and entitled dick otherwise she'll eat you alive and I'll enjoy every second of it

@skepticalarrie: yet another one with a super-organised blog (seriously which demon did you make a pact with to keep it that nice? I don't understand how). Smart, smart, smart, I've been going through some of her lyric analysis from HS3 lately and it's just so well-done, it makes you see things you maybe hadn't noticed before but make SO MUCH SENSE. Also has a bunch of explanations for things that make us scratch our heads like the "Louis and Harry are mortal enemies" narrative

@genuinemusic: my go-to for all things HS3. Her analysis of AIW is an absolute masterpiece and I can't wait for the rest. Also so cool to read her first listens to the album cause you're already getting a taste for the analysis and I'm nothing if not a whore for deep thinking, it's the English student in me.

@cuethetommo: business queen, the best blog to go to for anything ticket-related, whenever I'm sad I just go through her ASK ME WHY I LOVE HARRY STYLES and MOST BEAUTIFUL BOY tags and then I'm good again. Also has a really organised blog, and her HARRY MERCH tag always makes me feel better when I get angry that Harry's merch honestly sucks

@hellolovers13: my big sister loml, they have the greatest fics (we beta each other's fics too so they're a big part of mine), number 1 niall fan, also a big taylor fan so obviously we love. just overall an amazing person that everyone should follow. they keep me updated on pretty much all things fandom bc I've been very out of touch lately lmao

@lovingstheantidote: literally an amazing blog, joins me sabine and co for thirst time, always has very good opinions and thoughts, and just such a sweet and lovely person (except for when we're thirsting in which case it's time to sin). 10/10 blog, love it

@ladychlo: another amazing blog that I check on the daily because they're just hilarious really and if they're not making posts that make me smash the reblog button, they're reblogging them themselves which makes for a very nice dash for me. a must-have, I would say

as for update accounts, the only two you need are @dailytomlinsonson and @stylesnews which also happen to be the larry love story of tumblr, we ship them so hard as we fucking should tbh

Those are the ones I keep up with the most, even tho there's tons of good people out there that you should definitely check out, so don't be afraid to just branch out on your own, check out random blogs, see if their blog is something you could keep up with.

Since you're from Twitter, there's one main thing you should know about this: NO ONE CARES ABOUT FOLLOWERS. We believe in curating your experience, so follow whoever you want, unfollow whoever you want, and don't worry about saying the wrong thing cause it won't bring in more followers. Tumblr is the best place for you to just be yourself without the fear of being judged or cancelled.

Edit: here is a list of general Tumblr guidelines, and here is a list more catered to the 1D/Larry side of things, I recommend reading both.

[nohitinnings]

okay no literally i just started having chronic migraines this past like eighteen months and also just started really heavily following the flyers this year (i've been like a casual fan since i started watching hockey but they were one of the only teams i could stream like legally that i didn't hate so i watched a LOT of them this season) and like at first i was like obviously sucks he went through that but like it's always neat to like have a public figure you like that you know is going through what your are and then i got on here and everyone was like "he didn't use pride tape cause it would give him migraine 🥺😔" "that's probably why he isn't on social media much cause seeing what people were saying about him made him stressed and made it worse" like ????? please stop pathologizing someone you don't knows behavior based off a list of causes and symptoms you read on webmd????? and also maybe talk to someone about your parasocial relationships

sorry for the late response, ironically enough i woke up with a migraine haha.

i've suffered from headaches my entire life and chronic migraines for about six years now. things that trigger them: lack of sleep, adrenaline, dehydration, etc. things that do not trigger them: pride tape, social media comments, the city of los vegas.

when nolan patrick was diagnosed with a migraine disorder, i absolutely wasn't happy, but i sort of collect players with headaches the way i collect hockey cards. i wrote an entire commentary for my sports literature class about his migraines and the response to them. i've defended him a lot due to my very real, lived experience as a person with headaches.

that being said, some people on this site have no grip over what migraines are like. everyone's experience is unique and different, but just because lights can trigger them doesn't mean that exposure to the las vegas strip is going to pulverize his brain. i don't know nolan patrick and neither does pretty much anyone on this site. at the end of the day, we can't make decisions about how things are going to affect him because we just don't know.

what we do know is that he is a grown man with the medical team of a professional sports league at his disposal. he will be fine and the wack-ass infantilization of him in hockey tumblr circles is problematic at best and downright awful at worse.

tl;dr: please talk to people with migraines before posting.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a great day. We did so much! I did not sleep well so I was worried I would be foggy all day but I was fine. I feel tired now but also just really happy.

My allergies were just really really bad last night and I didn't breathe great. So when I woke up I felt horrible. I just laid there for a long time. But I just felt so bad. It sucked. I was not having fun.

James came and held my hand. We scrolled through tumblr together. And eventually, I did get up.

I shook off my sleepiness pretty fast all things considered. I felt very cute today. It was surprisingly cold out so I had to be a little bundled. James made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast and I did some styling until about 11.

We left here and went to put gas in the car. James took us out to the parkway to get the shell gas since we get money off from groceries. And then it was time to get downtown for our venue visit.

We were a little early so we walked around the block and read the history of the venue. I didn't realize it used to be a museum. They actually left some of the museum infrastructures in the ball rooms, like fake streets and store fronts, and murrals. So that was neat.

We spoke to someone in the neighborhood who said she sees beautiful weddings there all the time. And I agree it is a beautiful space.

When we started the actual tour our guide was very nice but I couldn't help to feel that everything felt very dated. The courtyard was lovely, and my favorite part. But the actual hotel, breakfast rooms, etc, were just so heavily dropped that they felt incredibly old-fashioned. Not vintage, not even period accurate. But heavy and old. I felt like often there were places that were covered in fabric just to hide things and it just wast my favorite. For being the most expensive site I don't think I love it.

But the outside spaces were so great. After the tour we sat down and looked at pictures of how things were styled and such. And they all looked beautiful. But I just don't think it will be right for us. They were really nice though and I am glad we went.

Me and James got back to the car and we got excited for our next thing of the day. While we were waiting for our tour to start we decided to go to a pumpkin patch in the afternoon. We had tickets for Maize Quest, which is just over the boarder in PA at 245. So we went home to grab my camera and change shoes and James grabbed their coffee and we went off.

We were going to get lunch at a grille out there but we couldn't find it in the end. So instead we went to five guys and honestly Im glad we did. It was better for the timing and was the perfect amount of food.

We had a nice little lunch and drove out to the farm. It was so much fun.

The maize was the main thing. I was surprised how much of a production it was. We had gotten the slightly more expensive ticket so we could also go on the big slide. It was actually only $2 more which was exactly what we wanted. But the main attraction was the maize.

Which was INTENSE. We had to watch a video first with rules and then we were off. We spent like a half hour trying to find our way out using the photo of the map I took. We had to find clues and stuff and it was so cute. I was a little overheated but the rain held off and so I didn't mind being a little warm. I was having a great time.

Eventually, though I was a little to tired of wandering in a circle so I used their website and they had a GPS tracker that lets you follow along on the map. And while it didn't give the answer it did orient us and it was great. We would run into the same people a few times and had some laughs. It was a lot of fun.

The whole maze took about 45 minutes. And then it was slide time!

James went on the bigger one, I went on the one with less of an intense drop. But it was fun! I am glad we did it. Then it was time for pumpkins.

We waited in the line and a nice girl told me she really liked my hair. What a sweetheart. The actual hayride was a little scary because of the side moving, but it was good.

We found our pumpkin pretty fast. We decided to just get one bumpy one. And I am very pleased with the pumpkin we got.. And it was like $5. So that was nice. The ride back was a little sillier, with a family who wanted to be everyone's friends. They were nice enough. But it was nice to get off the ride.

We paid for our pumpkin and went to our car. Drove to the other side of the farm to go to the market. We got to get a few free heritage apples, which I always love. Love a weird apple. And we each got a pastry. James got pumpkin fritters and I got apple glazed donuts. And we got a cider to share.

The drive home was nice. We listened to a podcast. And were home in an hour. I was very tired. But it was still a nice drive.

We got back here and James went for a little bike ride. I laid down for a little before I took my nail polish off to redo.

And now Im going to get washed up and ready to go to bed. Today was lovely. I am in a great mood and I feel really happy. I hope you are too. Goodnight everyone. Take care of each other.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Art reposting etiquette

I see art theft happen a lot, and whether or not it's true or has just been happening more frequently in the circles I follow I can't help but at least feel like it's becoming more and more of a problem.

To be clear, "reposting" is downloading art from a website that you did not make or own, and uploading it as a separate post, regardless of where and how it's presented - with notable exception of header and profile pictures assuming they are not trying to imitate the artist. Not all art theft is reposting, but all improper reposting is art theft.

As cut and dry as "stop art theft it's bad, don't repost art" posts make it sound, there are several benevolent reasons people may want to repost such as:

Believing they are spreading the artist's influence around the internet

Adding intrigue or a visual aid to a fanfiction

Sharing some neat art they thought was really cool

Just to name a few

Assuming the best in people, these are not necessarily bad reasons and DON'T MAKE PEOPLE BAD, but many often don't understand there's a dark side to the reposting issue.

People who may want more art may be unable to find the original creator

People may not realize that the artist makes rent with the very artwork you're enjoying and they may be looking at stolen premium content meant to put food on the table

People take art and further edit it so that it becomes even harder to trace back to the original

Malicious websites and bots find popular fanart and illegally use it to produce bootleg merch. This has a double-whammy effect when someone sees the merch IRL when out and about and wants it because it's cool art of their favorite character but don't realize the artist is actively being robbed.

Reposting art makes it harder for the artist to track down the thief and take legal action as well as actively funnels traffic away from their business. By and large it should always be assumed that reposting for any reason is damaging to the artist's wellbeing; and frankly, if you don't care you're actively hurting someone, it makes you the asshole, not me for calling you out.

But, that isn't to say reposting is NEVER allowed, but ONLY UNDER EXTREMELY SPECIFIC CIRCUMSTANCES. That's the point of this post.

Before you can decide if you should even attempt to repost art, check these things first:

If it says directly on the art "do not repost" don't waste your time. They are not going to make an exception for you.

Check to see if the art is already on the platform you're planning to upload to (especially here on Tumblr). Often, artists make it a point to put their work in very specific locations for their own reasons. They may not want their work on your website at all and you need to respect that.

Gain the artist's explicit permission after explaining where you want to repost their work, which work you want to repost, and why with how you plan to credit them. If you gain permission, keep a copy of the conversation for your own protection. If you do not gain permission, don't repost at all.

If you gain permission to repost art, these things are an absolute necessity:

Mention of the artist's name

THEIR main platform of choice

link to the original piece used

It would likely look something like this:

Artwork uploaded with express permission by @[artist] on [website], found here - (hyperlinked to original piece)

Bonus information to include:

Additional social media handles of the artist

Link to the artist's Patreon and/or Ko-Fi if available

Link to artist's store if available

Hyperlinking the image itself so other users can just click it to find the work/artist

Remember reposting should be about the artist, NOT YOU. You didn't create the work, and even if you supported them via Patreon it still doesn't belong to you, nor are you entitled to it. A commission you personally paid for is the only piece of work of that artist's creation you are ever entitled to unless otherwise stated in a contract when you bought it.

To continue to cover my bases I'm going to address some stances that may pop up about the issue:

"I didn't know reposting was that bad!"

It's okay. That's why I made this post. In general, as a supportive fan and consumer you should try to learn how artists are rewarded for their work on different platforms. YouTube is different from Instagram is different from Facebook is different from Tumblr. Learn which best ways to support your favorite artists in the ways that are most beneficial to them, even if all they ask for is respect and a little appreciation. And do take down any art you may have reposted. It can continue to do damage by remaining up, but removing it almost always mitigates any future harm and genuinely helps. Now you know better and can be better moving forward!

"I can't get ahold of the artist for permission."

Don't repost it then. Remember, at the end of the day reposting is only good for the reposter in fake internet points or actual money/intellectual property stolen but always tangibly hurts the artist. It sucks, but they have a right to determine where and how their hard work is displayed.

"Whatever, I'll do what I want. Lol"

Enjoy your takedown. Hey, artists, did you know you can find each website's terms of service and figure out how to submit a report with the offending post and user, and they're usually good about getting it down within days?! Look for "misappropriation" that's your ticket! 😊

But seriously, repeat offenders can get permanently banned from sites and even sued for actual real-world money and damages over your precious fake internet points. It actually pays to not be an ass!

"But I just want to support the artist and reposting is so easy!"

You know what's even easier?

It's literally only one or two clicks to support the artist or tell them how much you love their work! Most other platforms make supporting content creators just as easy, and some platforms even PAY the creators based on them or enable them to grasp opportunities to be paid!

"But I don't want to bog down my followers with a huge reblog dump of one person's stuff."

Put it in queue to space it out, then.

"I don't have money to support the artist so I repost instead to give them exposure."

Time and time again it's been proven that reposting actively funnels money AWAY from them. You don't have to monetarily support them with much. Buy one thing from their store or give them $1 on Ko-Fi. If you can't even do that, tell them you love their stuff and shout to the rooftops where someone else can pay them; but don't make it harder for them to get paid. Too many artists "die of exposure."

"Why do you even care?"

I AM an artist. I currently support artists with real money monthly because I love their work. I only ever make money off my own art on commissions, and that relies on people being able to find me. I'm not even the one supporting my two children, husband, pet, and medical expenses with only this option to pay for it, and you bet your butt I still would be pissed if I ever found out my art had been misappropriated. Some people do this to SURVIVE and I want to see that those who do have as little unnecessary struggle with it as possible.

"It's fanart/fan content put on the internet for free I can do whatever I want with it!"

At least in North America the law says you can't. Did you know that the way laws are currently written, if someone takes a picture of you and finds a way to make money off that photo they don't owe you a dime? They hold the copyright to it. When art is displayed publicly, that copyright is not surrendered and is automatically afforded to the artist by virtue of it being their specific expression and work. By being their work, they can actually sue you for stealing their property.

Ask Disney, they're really good at it.

And to close this out I want to say one more thing: the internet has changed a LOT in the time I started browsing from the early 2000's. Rules are different, cultures are different, and for younger people especially you may not understand how some have had to (and still do) fight tooth and nail over this internet space and still make it.

If you didn't know all this, THAT'S OKAY! You're learning, and the internet is more or less a wild west right now. That means it's equal opportunity to be a killing field or a place we can lift up and support each other. Reposting is just one corner of the bad things that can come of it, but now you know how to help and even start reversing the damage.

Learn about how people who upload free content make money. When you find misappropriated work, report them to the site and try to inform the artist - don't even acknowledge the thief, just slap a ticket on them and move on. Teach others how and why reposting is bad and what they can do to help.

If you love free content, show respect and protect it. Otherwise, artists will have to put it behind a paywall and that content you loved will disappear over time. Respect will get you a much greater return than entitlement.

[dungeons-and-danis]

Oh, neat! If you don't mind me asking, how did you meet your players? I know you said at a convention, but i'm just wondering about the details. It's always nice to hear how dnd teams meet.

Well I have five players right now, and we’re all sort of connected in a way! This is gonna be a bit of a long one just becos i love them so much and i want yall to know the weird string of events that lead to us all playing dnd together lol. So you’re invited to visit my lil story time beneath the cut!

The first one of my players that I met was Taylor at an anime convention in like… 2013 or 2014 i think. We were around 14-15 years old at the time. I met her because I was the first person in my city’s cosplay community to cosplay titan annie from attack on titan (literally 2 weeks or so after the episode first came out) and all the AoT cosplayers literally flocked to me, including Taylor who was cosplaying Armin. We later followed each other on tumblr and started hanging out casually maybe a year later.

Then, I hung out with and became mildly acquainted with some of Taylor’s friends at another anime convention in maybe spring 2015 when I was cosplaying the witch from L4D. It was there that I met Tayler (yes we have a tayler and a taylor. yes they are two different people lol) amongst the group I was hanging out with. But we didn’t really talk that much after that.

In the summer of 2015, I met Sam at yet ANOTHER convention (i know… i was a con fiend back in my teens) where I was cosplaying Queen Beryl from Sailor Moon and Gogo from Big Hero Six, also met via Taylor. Again, we didn’t really talk that much at the time.

It was toward the end of 2015, during my senior year in high school where I was having an incredibly rough time emotionally and academically. The first girl I ever dated broke up with me, my friends were treating me poorly, and I was barely going to school. I was posting on my personal tumblr about how miserable I was, when Taylor sent me a text inviting me to her ugly-sweater-themed Christmas party.

I. Hated. Parties. I didn’t want to go at all because all I knew parties to be was obnoxious, loud, annoying, and full of boys who would hit on me. But my mom saw how much I was suffering and managed to convince me to go anyways. I was so nervous, but when I knocked on her door that night, I was invited into one of the most loving, caring, and kind friendship groups i’ve ever come to know. Taylor, Tayler, and Sam were there, as well as my other players Madisen and Christine who I met for the first time right there.

This party was like nothing I ever experienced, yall. These girls were so nice and kind and had similar worldviews as me. This was the first friend circle I ever had where almost everyone was gay like me as well. So that was a huge comfort after struggling with my sexuality in high school and feeling isolated. Ever since this party, we became the best of friends throughout the years.

Cut to spring of 2018 when I finally broke up with my last ex girlfriend. I was in a terrible mood and crying my eyes out, when Madisen and Taylor decided to come over and bring me some comfort and a shoulder to cry on. While we talked about my breakup and my feelings and all that sappy stuff, I remember seeing my little D&D starter set on my desk that I had gotten from Christmas a few months prior. And I’m not sure how, but I kind of just got around to mentioning how I wish I could still play dnd (cos i played it with my ex a lot) but that I had nobody to play with. And they were ON IT. They immediately said they’d LOVE to play a game DM’ed by me, which is something i’d also mentioned wanting to do previously. I texted our group chat to see if the rest of them would be interested, and they were all ecstatic about it. So give or take a couple months of preparation, and we finally started our first game in August of 2018 with Madisen, Tayler, Taylor, and Sam.

A few months later, Christine (who hadnt yet become SUPER close with our circle yet) came to me saying she’d really love to join our campaign and thus, I gave her a heroic entrance into our campaign on a night in which the rest of the players thought she was simply present to spectate. She also joined our group chat and we’ve all gotten to be closer than we ever were before.

All in all, I would give the world for my players who are also coincidentally my best friends. They make me so super happy and D&D has allowed us to bond even more than we once did. I love working closely with each one of them on their characters and also being able to incorporate my love of writing and fiction and share that joy with my best friends who react so wonderfully to my stories. It’s truly the biggest blessing thats ever been laid upon me. I thank the stars every day for my friends and for D&D!

TL;DR: I met most of my players through anime conventions, and became much closer to them after a christmas party in december of 2015. I love them more than anything and also im really sappy and gross abt it toward the end.

[storytravelled]

Helpppp I love your confidence with approaching ppl to become moots 😭😭😭😭 I wish I had that confidence lol, any advice on approaching ppl ? <3

aw you're so sweet ty! i'm actually not that confident and barely interact with the mutuals i get and kind of just collect them which makes me super sad but i'm not confident enough to do anything about it,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

but i've also been here for a short while now and have some tips!

join groups! i found my first and dearest mutuals (who i ACTUALLY talk to) after joining my first discord server. we've got a few mutual interests (some that we've gotten into together) and we can get each other into stuff. honestly, tumblr isn't my favorite messaging platform and i prefer discord a lot, which is why you won't see a lot of interactions on here from me. i have a ton of mutuals now from making writing and rp blogs and finding spaces where others did the same- my ayaka blog made me mutuals with a ton of big genshin people, and joining interwoven fates did that for a ton of smaller genshin people that add just as much to my dash and daily interactions

this kind of goes with #1, but pay attention to events! i joined the aforementioned first discord server because of an event, and i've gotten to know quite a few people from either joining or following genshin extreme bias games. I've joined fanfiction and collaboration events hosted by blogs that are larger than mine, giving my work publicity and also giving me an opportunity to talk to other participants and the host as well as some talking points to use

interact with people! i know this is kind of useless and vague, but it is really easy to just send someone an ask off anon asking if they wanted to talk about something or contributing to something they're talking about. make sure to ALWAYS have at least three different talking points to use. they can be coherent with each other or not, but you need backup plans in case your conversations hit a dead end. however, the talking point strategy applies much better on discord and in pms than on asks. still, make sure to have backup plans. i recommend that if someone continually interacts with your posts or work, go talk to them! i remember the first person to send me interactions on my writing blog- he sent an ask off anon and i went to clarify with him and now we're super close! to go with this, it's generally easier to get people like that to go with you into groups. that way, you're not alone, and they can help you get more acquainted with a larger circle if you're not confident in your own interaction skills. i know @unkownknowledge, who i'm speaking about, mentions a lot that he's happy to help others who are intimidated about speaking to mutuals, and i am as well.

find multiple avenues! i created my sideblogs for fun, but they've become great ways to meet people. sideblogs are just more roads into more fandoms, so i highly recommend making some exclusively for some interests to get a concentrated topic in the people that follow you. to go with that, always make sure to properly tag your content so people will actually see it, even if it's a reblog. blog organization looks really professional too, although it doesn't really matter if you use it or if you tag reblogs as reblogs so it looks like you do. it's a neat trick and i don't think anyone really notices it, because it becomes a subconscious thing.

be yourself, be patient, and have fun! i know i said a lot of this with an undertone of "be super strategic and use all your angles and manipulate people into seeing and caring about you" but, in the end, what helped me most was finding what parts of myself were truest and amplifying those. be genuine and be yourself, and it'll be genuinely less tiring to talk to people. this is tumblr, where it's incredibly easy to find when someone's being fake because we're all insane and ridiculous here. please remember not to take things here too seriously. we're all just clowns in different circuses. the worst that can happen to you is that someone will politely reject you, delete your ask, or impolitely reject you. polite rejections will generally assure you that it's not your fault and they have a reason for doing what they do. deleting your ask means that you can let go of that person. don't worry too much about them, but i generally assume if they're answering asks regularly about their posts in a timely manner, about three days of them responding to proveably recent asks and ignoring yours generally signifies for me that they deleted it. in this scenario, you should forget about them. they don't matter that much, and you'll be okay without them seeing your url once ever and doing nothing, i promise. i'll help comfort/distract you, if you want. if they impolitely reject you, tell me and i'll take care of you darling don't worry about that. if you don't have many mutuals yet, you won't have much of a support system on this app. but that's what i'm here for! i'm going to help you in any way i can. this whole thing is solely for the purpose of having fun, so please keep everything lighthearted and don't worry too much about a lot.

ask literally everyone if they want to be mutuals. this is less a tip and more of a way for me to offer to you my mutualship because i genuinely like you. let's be friends, anon! i'd love to know more about you