#i said i'd put reblogs in my queue and then didn't but i will

[quantumfeat72]

first meeting

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm going to be honest

I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.

I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.

It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.

I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.

It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.

Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.

Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.

First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.

I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.

So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.

I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.

I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.

So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.

I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.

I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.

I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.

There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.

I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.

Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.

I'm forcing it and I'm tired.

It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.

I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.

It's not you, it's me.

So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.

Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.

I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.

I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.

Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.

I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.

It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.

I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.

This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.

Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.

Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.

[loosesodamarble]

Hi Erika!

I think I somehow missed the moment you reblogged the OC ask game. Anyway if you're still taking asks could you answer 🤦‍♀️😊🤝 for Helia?

Thanks 💕

Hiya there Lola~! It's okay that you missed the reblog since I have my queue posting quite a few posts a day. And you were no doubt busy working hard on other stuff!

But not to worry, I'm still taking asks and I'd be happy to answer the questions you've got for me!

And these questions are for Helia~!

🤦‍♀️ - Something that continues to embarrass them to this day

Helia is a bit of a ditz and doesn't always think before she speaks. That leads to the chance of her putting her foot in her mouth, as she once did with Asta.

Back when Asta joined the Black Bulls and everyone learned that he was completely without magic, Helia's response to it was "oh so it's kinda like you're magically impotent?" The question embarrassed Asta thoroughly. Finral scolded Helia's remark while folks like Magna and Yami got a good chuckle out of it.

Asta never holds it against Helia and they get along great, practically like siblings. But if the topic of how they met ever comes up, Helia buries her face in her hands and Asta awkwardly tries to laugh away the subject. Solid and Nebra do eventually catch wind of Helia's awful phrasing and poke fun at her for it for the rest of the day.

(Also, Helia's comparison doesn't even make sense. She was probably looking to say "magically sterile" and not "impotent" but she didn't take the time to consider her phrasing and the implications of her words.)

😊 - Something that always makes them smile

Helia's day can always be brightened by a gift of flowers. It can be a full bouquet of many different flowers or it can just be a sprig of bluebells. Maybe it's because of her affinity or maybe it's just because flowers are something Helia associates with happiness but Helia can't feel down when she's got a bloom or two in her hands.

🤝 - Are they good with people? Are they able to get along with people and communicate effectively with the people around them?

Helia does amazingly with people! She's outgoing and a big extrovert! Helia thrives on the energy other people bring, especially if everyone is having a good time. As I said before, she doesn't think too much before she speaks. So while it means she can say things in a clumsy way at times, it also means she speaks in a direct way. It's pretty easy to communicate with her that way.

Not only that but Helia likes making people feel good, sharing compliments and positive thoughts as much as she can. That gets her in a lot of people's good sides. But being so complimentary towards people has also made her seem shallow and like a flatterer. Which... is a little true. But that doesn't stop Helia from being a genuine social butterfly.

[windslar]

i'm thinking of starting to tell sim stories on tumblr. what are some things you wish you'd known before starting that would have made your life easier as a creator? ps i am absolutely obsessed with you.

That's so sweet! Thank you, anon. Sorry if this got really long and out of hand, but apparently I'm quite passionate about this topic. Oop.

To be honest, I didn't think of myself as much of a sim storyteller. There are definitely simblrs out there telling elaborate stories with developed characters. Personally, my style is more gameplay-focused and then adding context. 95% of the time, I take random screenshots and build a story based on that. The only real planning involved is that I try to follow the rules of the legacy challenge I'm playing. That being said, I use it more as a guide for storytelling rather than a checklist of tasks I have to complete.

I've attempted focusing more on storytelling with Lightflower. I have a google doc plotting the scenes and dialogue, and linking to pose packs I want to use, but I've been on a slump with that particular save. Don't get me wrong, I love those sims but the idea of opening that save and posing them and coming up with dialogue is like pulling teeth for me (at this point, anyway). Motivation to play a save is huge. This is a hobby, and the last thing I want is for this to feel like work.

All that to say I wish I'd known NOT to put too much pressure on myself. I think, in the beginning, we all get inspired by other simblrs and we want to create great stories and original edits that get a ton of likes and reblogs. So we consciously or subconsciously emulate what's popular. It's one thing to be inspired and motivated by others, but it's another thing to feel like you have to measure up to popular simblrs with an established audience. With anything in life, if you compare yourself to others, it's not going to be an enjoyable experience.

So my advice is to just do what you like, post what you enjoy, and share your excitement about your sims. Some days, I like to post slice of life screenshots of sims just living their lives on live mode. Other days, I like to pose my sims and add some more story elements to my gameplay. I don't limit myself to one thing or one style because I know I'd get bored with my save. This approach works for me, and it might be different for you. There's no one way to play this game.

I also don't limit myself to the game's narrow "personality" system. I like to explore why my sims have certain traits and how it motivates them to do certain things; it's stuff like that that makes sims more fleshed out and more memorable for people following your story or gameplay. If you sprinkle in some context or elaborate a little on your sims' personalities beyond "so-and-so has these three traits", it allows you to be more attached to your sims and less likely to burn out.

Oh, and maybe this is just me being a chronic queue-er who posts 99% of the screenshots I take, but stop second-guessing yourself because you think your post isn't good enough. I see it occasionally on the dash -- people being overly self-critical about their creations and choosing not to post or deciding to delete it because it didn't get the numbers they wanted. We all start from somewhere and we're all learning new things as we go. SHARE your stories and edits and WIPs. If you show you're enthused about something, it carries through in your work and you'll find that others will start caring about the stuff that you post.

[john-jonathy-jonathan-the-3rd]

Tags thingy

These, like this entire blog, are mainly cattered towards me, and I am only really putting them here so I dont forget them. They are stupid and arent really made to make sense, so I recommend that you ignore them (13.6.24)

(10.10.24) Alternatively I'd actually recommend searching my blog using some of these since it helps filter out a lot of my compulsive reblogging and get you whatever it is you came here for.

#not a reblog is for that rare smidge of original content

#good reblog for when I actually add something to a post (retired because it felt pretentious to label anything as a "good reblog" and I wound up never using it)

#favorite For something I particularly like

#favorite+ For favorite but ✨more✨

#favorite++ and so on, and so on. Youre smart. You get the gist.

#emotional is self explanatory

#that feel is purposely vage

#teehee ;)

#in a spire inspiring but said weirdly

#see again is for when past me would like to give a recommendation to future me that is more specific about being seen again than simply "favorite". Basically an @ future me

#a hole in some is for when the hole is some (wholesome)

#awww with 3 w

#laughed out loud for when I did in fact perform that particular action

#funny

#made me smile

#future me is kind of like #see again but different in vibes.

I'll add more as I see fit. I dont think I'll retroactively tag stuff

#cool art is specifically for art which I find cool, so if you came here for pretty art reblogs you can use this

#cool lore is for when the thing in question is intriguing or of conceptual quality

#cool stuff more general tag that includes the stuff the two above don't

#my drawings I draw, and enough of my art has been good enough recently to get posted, so now I'll tag it.

#art goals You ever look at a piece of art and think, "Man, I really want to be able to make something like that one day"? Well I do! This is what I'll tag that stuff with

#beautiful for stuff that I consider to be exactly that. The template for this is a pollution-less night sky or that particular half-dragon zelda.

#queue a queued post

10.10.24 I just wanted to mention that many variants of these have actually developed with my use of them. It's a sort of notation to mark stuff for myself. For example, #quality in a spire is something that inspires because of it's quality rather than it's content. Something to aspire to.

#fake queue a post that I didn't think was as important as the things I have rotating around the queue, but still has that "I would show this again to you at any given moment if I could" aspect

#previous mecore a post that accurately depicts/brings up something relating to the good things that used to be part of me. Feel free to ignore, it's even more specifically aimed at myself than every other part of this blog.

It's silly and not solidly based on anything but I am mentioning it because

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 23-24-25

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

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

AO3 Link

Buy me a Ko-fi?

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

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

Keep reading

TWENTY THREE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alkonost," he supplied.

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

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

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

"Safe from what?" he demanded restlessly.

"The man in black?" Eliot suggested.

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

"For me?"

"The museum!" Parker exclaimed in sudden realization.

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

"I did," the Russian admitted readily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eliot beamed at the man. "None taken."

I had to agree with both of them, honestly.

"What about Grandmother?"

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

Fedorov looked thoughtful. "Wizard."

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

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

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

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

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

"You are what I have."

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

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

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

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

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

TWENTY FOUR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I'll need my hands free."

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

"Fine."

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

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

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

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

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

Except for two things.

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

"You are missing things. Where are they?"

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

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

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

Everyone looked up. I just grinned at them.

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

He'd laced the glue with iron filings.

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

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

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

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

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

Passing out it was.

TWENTY FIVE

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

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

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

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

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

"I need two in his bedroom."

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

"We?"

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

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

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

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

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

The dog froze, and stepped back, whining.

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

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

Eliot followed. "Harry?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It'll evaporate to nothing soon!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are hurt," Eliot accused mildly.

"Leshy like to kick."

"Is anything broken?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He's a civilian, Nate."

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

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

"Can you teach him?"

"In what, two days?!"

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

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

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

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

"Does he?"

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

"I agree with Harry," Eliot added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[raincitygirl76]

@resipsaloquitace makes a very good point. I didn't interpret the addition from @sflow-er in that way, they made a distinction between explaining why August felt justified in the moment, and remembering that August was not in fact justified. But I agree that the original Anon confession was problematic and victim-blamey (presumably that's why it was on Anon). And that we do need to remember that fandoms in general often bend over backwards to excuse the bad and sometimes plain old kriminal behaviour of handsome cisgender white men with tragic backstories.

But I do think there should be a distinction drawn between explaining and excusing. Now, the Lines do often get blurred. One fan can explain August's criminal behaviour in order to excuse it, while another fan explains merely to provide context. August's decision to leak the video felt rational and proportionate to him, even though it absolutely wasn't.

I'd also Add that at least 24 hours passed in between August's humiliation at Wilhelm's hands and August taking revenge. This wasn't an impulsive decision made immediately after the Society found out about his money problems. The Society scene took place at night. Then all the Society boys "confessed" to the headmistress in daylight scenes. So depending how long it took Anette Lilja and the Hillerska board to decide to expel Alexander, there was either 24 or 48 hours cool down time in between Society humiliation and Lucia Night.

August was still enraged, but he had time to think it over before he decided to massively escalate his feud with Wilhelm. And he chose his time and place carefully to avoid detection. It was pure bad luck (from August's point of View) that Sara happened to forget her sash in her locker.

P.S. this was the original reply I wrote back when this discussion occurred, which I thought Tumblr had eaten. I then went back and rewrote much of what I said above, and reblogged it at the time. Only now did I discover the original reblog hiding in my queue.

I’d like to emphasize again that there’s a difference between explaining a character’s actions and excusing said actions. Explaining can (and often does) tip over into excusing, but not always. I found the reblog by @sflow-er helpful because they put themselves into August’s shoes. And explained the chain of reasoning that led him to somehow, bizarrely think posting the video on the internet was a good idea. But @sflow-er did not, to my mind, try to excuse or justify August’s criminal actions. Merely to see them from August’s point of view.

This is probably going to be a SUPER unpopular opinion but I have to get it off my chest. I can kind of see why August would want to get revenge on Wilhelm. Not saying it was okay for him to post the video or anything but Wilhelm was in the wrong for exposing his money issues to the whole society. So August wanting to get revenge on him makes sense to me. Idk I feel like not enough people talk about how Wilhelm wronged August before August had ever wronged him.

Or am I wrong? I know fans can be critical of Wilhelm but I have yet to see someone actually call him wrong for the whole Society financial issues thing that was the whole reason the video got uploaded in the first place.

[justasmallbloginabigklainefandom]

I posted 33,579 times in 2022

1,929 posts created (6%)

31,650 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thepondstogether

@cuddlycryptid

@feelschicken

@prideofyunmeng

@redvanillabee

I tagged 30,422 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#queue in a box - 22,832 posts

#zelda - 2,331 posts

#lb 2022 - 1,936 posts

#dw - 1,416 posts

#animal crossing - 1,193 posts

#meow - 1,060 posts

#acnh - 1,060 posts

#ofmd - 987 posts

#glee - 958 posts

#lb gaming - 942 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#also i'd say hollands nieuwe but i am southern and i never had it but i just dislike raw herring and unions so im p sure i'll hate hollands

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

old school gleeks and starkid fans HELP

I am looking for that one cracky fanvid that basically put Blaine’s speech in Never Been Kissed about his old school together with AVPM clips.

Blaine: I got taunted at my old school and it really pissed me off 

[cut to Dumbledore yelling "what that's stupid YOU'RE STUPID] 

etc.

Does anyone know which one I am talking about and if so do you know where to find it????

30 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

#4

@pluviatrix ugh UR MIND

31 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#3

56 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

#2

There are a lot of little details in the Heartstopper show that are amazing, but one thing that really got me was Alice's cameo. Because I've watched Heartstopper grow a lot over the past few years. I remember regretting that I didn't back her Kickstarter campaign to publish volume one. I became a Patreon. Then Alice announced an actual book deal for Heartstopper. And later the idea of a TV got slowly announced, because hey, it wasn't certain, let's not get our hopes up. But then it was certain and it was on Netflix even. Alice got to work on her own show and the casting brought the characters to life and then they filmed it and now it's out in the world.

And it has been said many times that this TV show is an amazing adaption, that it's basically the pages coming to life on screen, as it should be. This isn't a loose adaption or 'based on' the original, no, it's Heartstopper on screen. Even in the stuff like the set and props, Alice's art is incorporated.

Then she's there. It's only a small moment, but she's there and she's sitting next to Nick and Charlie, two characters that have been with her since her teens, probably, since that's when she came up with Solitaire. They've been in her head for so long and now they're actually there in the flesh, and she's next to them. Her characters are there with Alice.

Long story short, I've never felt this emotional about a cameo.

85 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

262 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[glittertrail]

I was tagged by @aquafinha to do this (thank you Katie🥰💖)

1. Why did you choose your url?:

for a long time my personal brand was the friend that loved glitter vfx and makeup in general, ofc i would go all out and leave trails of glitter everywhere lmao also i like having a url that is recognizable but not fandom affiliated

2. Any side blogs?:

yes lmao so many but the active ones are only @ellavaday for rpdr stuff, @ccantaloup for cute animal videos food and reminders to be kind to yourself (it is where a lot of... not particularly good stuff used to be documented and instead of deleting it i decided to rebrand it and keep it as a reminder to myself) and @ateneawrites for fic writing (this one's a baby and it's brand new bc i haven't written for fun in a good 6 years, i'm rusty but definitely having fun at least)

3. How long have you been on tumblr?:

2010ish

4. Do you have a queue tag?:

nope, y'all gotta figure out if i'm online or not by yourselves lmao (it's not hard i usually blog a lot of things in a row when i'm online vs one post every half an hour when i'm not)

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?:

i had just moved to a new continent and didn't have many friends and was bored

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?:

because i lost my old one😭 i put a cute pic of a ghost for halloween and lost the one i had before of a bottle shaped like a heart that said poison 😔 the one i currently have just looked okay with the no header look i like on mobile

7. Why did you choose your header?:

i don't like the look of headers 😬

8. What’s your post with the most notes?:

in this blog? It's buried bc this blog is old as sin but it's either a post about leon orcot from psoh or effie trinket from thg, rn it's a screenshot of choriza may's last look on the rpdr runway because this might not be the drag race blog but the stickers of a peach with "chocho" written on it definitely belongs to this blog lmao

9. How many mutuals do you have?:

probably about a hundred-ish but i am not sure since the rpdr blog is quite more popular than my main

10. How many followers do you have?:

this blog has about 1.1k and the drag race blog has about 4.8k followers (which is absolutely insane but most of those have to be inactive by now tbh.. that sideblog exploded when i first made it bc of t&k), fully have no clue about the other ones but those are the ones i frequent the most

11. How many people do you follow?:

367

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?:

have i made anything but shitposts?

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?:

i started to check it daily again just recently, kind of left it abandoned in 2017 but i'm here probably more often than i should currently

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog once?:

never, the unfollow button is right there and blocking is not hard should that not suffice

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?:

same as katie, i get annoyed, it usually just ensures i ignore it, specially, no offense, if it's got to do with the us

16. Do you like tag games?:

love them

17. Do you like ask games?:

love those too!

my favorite thing is the mutuals that will send you things to your ask box unprompted too btw or play things like "assign me a time period in history" or a dessert (@msaudreyanne @woodswit @jackredfieldwasmyjacob are probably some of my favorite people to follow bc of those things)

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?:

depends on what we consider famous, i think some of them have got def more engagement than most, if that counts as famous then @woodswit @msaudreyanne and @legallybrunette1997 qualify

if we go by "people that represent their fandom" i think I'd be remiss not to add @goldenliartrash and @sapphicfolch to the list (hello ministericos how are we doing) and then @ellanainthetardis (or hayffie fanfiction god) and @junosjukebox and @veronicasanders (for rpdr fanfiction specifically)

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?:

a couple that i'm v good friends irl with now since i firmly believe in being a tiny bit in love with your friends 🥰

(no pressure) tags: @kindlichekaiserins @sapphicsupremacist @dykegoblins @amillcitygirl @gardenarcana @poliearbear @lissette @timelordsensate @katya-zamos @doumekiss @1-800-heller @papitati @stephanieschildren , any of the people i tagged before while answering this and anyone else who wishes to do this

[tentacle-stylograph]

(picture from here but by Holly Main)

okay, therapy homework. over the next 13 days (12 now), try to have at least ten days where i do at least one "self-love" thing and record what it is

shark picture 'cause i'm hoping i'll find a roll of stickers to mark the days i succeed, and those stickers have some sharks with party hats

__

T 1 Nov: successfully told myself to stop talking to myself so badly

W 2 Nov: was doing a character voice in my car and eventually said affirmations to myself as that character, as if he were talking to me

H 3 Nov: worked on fanart pic!! only did about 20 or 25 mins when i wanted to do 35, but i distracted myself hugely beforehand and also forgot / failed to put on any "am i doing what i want" timers

F 4 Nov: didn't take physical notes during speaker event tonight!! really, really pushed myself longer than i should have in my illustration class, so i needed the break.

second part to above: didn't take great memory palace "notes," but i'm not beating myself up about it. i told myself before the event, "hey, it's okay to not take notes on everything. sometimes it's okay to just LIVE what's happening. even if you remember very little from tonight, that's still okay."

A 5 Nov: talked to my brother about difficulties i've had communicating with him (but thanks to a friend who i asked for advice, and of course part of her advice was "if there's a real problem it's important to discuss what it is and how it can get better."

S 6 Nov: call with friend to help me with homework + DID SOME OF THE SCARY ZBRUSH STUFF + went out to the nearby Pokestop a few times when it was orange (Gimmighoul event thing?)

M 7 Nov: MORNING EXERCISES. I DID MY MORNING EXERCISES ON MY OWN YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH

T 8 Nov: GOING TO VOTE even though i didn't have every section checked out; i just didn't vote on everything

W 9 Nov: cleared my computer desktop. I'D BEEN WANTING TO FOR LITERALLY MONTHS -- THERE WERE SCREENSHOTS FROM AT LEAST SEPTEMBER AND THERE WERE OVER 100 ICONS -- so this was nice. took a while, but nice

H 10 Nov: fINALLY read some more of a digital One Piece zine i have! :D a good time. i took a bit to choose between my fanart project and the zine, but i settled on the zine 'cause (1) it'd be faster to get off my desktop and i like the organization and (2) i got a copy of the zine for a friend and it's nice to be able to talk about it together, if that's of interest

F 11 Nov:

A 12 Nov: not pushing stepdad's wheelchair whole time even tho i would have preferred to, in a way. but it would have been bad for my hands, and i would have been doing so mainly out of guilt. (it helped that he himself mentioned my hands without my prompting)

S 13 Nov:

M 14 Nov: typing up and queueing some posts before bedtime

__

something i've discovered with this exercise (already, on day one and two): i don't (always) consider my reblogging and Pokemon Go as self-care. they're more incidental / distractions / my workout a lot of the time.

'course if i'm using them as a break or 100% for fun they can be considered such, but i don't really feel like, in themselves, they are such. they can even be used as self-sabotage, e.g. procrastination (will, i knew that last part, but i didn't connect that to self-care/self-love before)

-> 2 Nov: i'd HOPED to work on a drawing after doing some school things, but i got distracted reblogging for so long that it was too late for that drawing. i remembered the positive self-talk, though, and, even though it wasn't planned and i didn't think that much of it at the time, it certainly was self-love, so it's fair to count it

[to-be-frank-i-dont-care]

thanks for the tag @totheglisteningeasternsea!

Why did you choose your url? because it sounded cool :) no. who am I kidding. I chose this url because I was thinking about what might happen if anyone ever put down one of my posts or left a mean ask; then I thought, well, if I had a username like to-be-frank-i-dont-care, then I could just say to that person, "You know what? Take a look at my url" and that would be my answer to any nasty people :). Unfortunately (did I say unfortunately? I meant fortunately)--I haven't had to use that answer yet.

Do you have any side blogs? Heh, yep! @skyward-children is my Skyward Sword blog, aaaaaand @ask-skipper-of-the-sandship is my...uh...LoZ ask blog I guess. This one is just a random collection of whatever the heck I feel like posting/reblogging (as most tumblr blogs are).

How long have you been on tumblr? wow um....let me check hehe....ok, since November of 2020! wow it hasn't been that long

Do you have a queue tag? Not...really? I mean, I have used "do queue hear the people sing" on another account of mine, but I've only used it once. On this one, I have no idea.

Why did you start your blog in the first place? I originally started it as a fandom blog, and then it morphed into a Big Hero 6 blog, and then, as suddenly as I had entered the fandom, I kinda lost interest in it and stopped updating it. Then I got tired of people tagging me or following me when I couldn't reblog the tag post or post anything new for them to see, so I scrapped the Big Hero 6 element, and it turned into a I-will-post-whatever-the-heck-I-want-even-if-it's-stupid blog.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? *cough* it's...it's Edmund...I mean... *cough* sorry, there seems to be something in my throat...he's a really awesome character and besides *coughing turns to wheezing* he's very cute and I would die for him ok

Why did you choose your header? It's Merry and Pippin! Being the idiots they usually are! (Well actually "idiot" usually falls on Pippin more than Merry. Merry has a good head on his shoulders in the book). But anyway, as I said, it's Merry and Pippin. What other explanation do you need?

What’s your post with the most notes? oh dang I have no idea. and I'm too lazy to wade back through my hundreds of posts to find out. :3

How many followers do you have? a very nice number and I love them all dearly (I'm looking at you, the Council of Frukeblor)

How many people do you follow? 588!

Have you ever made a shitpost? When have I not?

How often do you use tumblr? idk....I'd rather not remind myself either. It's too much to think about. *sweats nervously*

Did you have a fight with another blog once? Who won? well I had a one-sided fight with an idiot who had stopped using the blog and who therefore couldn't answer my arguments. She was saying that one of my favorite characters of all time was STUPID AND DUMB AND DESERVED TO BE ABUSED because the character CRIED in front of her friends. THE CHARACTER HAD LITERALLY JUST HAD HER SOUL SUCKED OUT AND ALMOST LOST HER BEST FRIEND AND IF THAT HAPPENED TO SOMEONE AND THEY DIDN'T CRY I WOULD BE CONCERNED. Anyway I'm getting worked up, gonna move on

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? So annoying

Do you like tag games? I LOVE TAG GAMES SO MUCH IT'S SUCH A LOVELY IDEA TO HAVE A CHAIN OF PEOPLE DOING LITTLE PICREWS OF THEMSELVES OR ANSWERING DUMB LITTLE QUESTIONS AKLJSKLAJKLS

Do you like ask games? YEAAAH THEY'RE SO FUN

Which one of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I know a lot of famous tumblr mutuals honestly; everyone on the Council of Frukeblor, and probably all the rest of my followers too

Do you have a crush on a mutual? hmm...mayyybe :)

Tags? @warrenwaskilledbyadeer @all-things-tolkien @thewhiteladyofrohan @justmemyselfandthefridge @zalie @i-am-darth-feanor @bonesinmoss @elvish-sky and anybody else who wants to!

hi !! got tagged by: @224-12 thank u darling !!

Why did you choose your url? i choose this url a long time ago and i guess at that time i thought it was cute? i don’t remember a specific reason for it. it’s still kinda cute now though haha

Do you have any side blogs? yes! one about kpop and one about movies, tv series, celebs etc. they’re nothing special though and i mostly just use them so i can find stuff back lol

How long have you been on tumblr? i think since 2011 u_u

Do you have a queue tag? nope, i never queue things.

Why did you start your blog in the first place? a girl i was talking to on this forum kept sending me cool gifs and photos and i asked her where she got them from. she told me about tumblr, i made a blog and here we are >u<

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? simply because i like this photo and the colours of it. i haven’t changed it in years 

Why did you choose your header? a mutual of mine used to have a narnia blog too and she made this for me !! it’s the prettiest thing ever !!

What’s your post with the most notes? the ‘’edmund lowkey looking like boyfriend material’’ one HAHA. 

How many followers do you have? a lot <3

How many people do you follow? 123

Have you ever made a shitpost? unfortunatly lmao

How often do you use tumblr? it depends on how busy i am. i usually check it everyday though when i have time.

Did you have a fight with another blog once? Who won? not that i can remember…

How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts? idc. sometimes i read them but i reblog things that i want to reblog, not cuz a post told me to lol

Do you like tag games? yea sure why not !!

Do you like ask games? ofc !!

Which one of your mutual do you think is tumblr famous? oh i have no idea. i don’t know about the amount of followers my mutuals have

Do you have a crush on a mutual? no haha

Tags? @lucypcvensie @leondaltons @narnianfarmer @clarkesplaylist @wujuhour @imjustdreamingig @trumpkinhotboy @peveinsie (i saw you in my notes a while back sam !! i know you are there!!!)

[kari-izumi2-electric-boogaloo]

From what I gather, this is just to help cover costs as they grow. The free beta is slated for next year, and there's talk of bringing back icon purchases like LJ had to cover costs for this exact reason.

For me, it's worth it to:

Have a functioning website

The option to turn off reblogs and make mutural-only posts. Not that I've had to do that as of yet because the community so far are LJ expats who never got into Tumblr to begin with.

Actual mature conversation instead of pissing matches. I realize that will inevitably change open beta goes live, but after the last year and a half since I finally came here kicking and screaming once LJ sold out to Russian I'd rather have a lower traffic site with actual discussion than fifty reblogs of noise

A functional website

A good block feature (unless said person you're blocking is the mod of a community you're a part of, which is understandable)

Speaking of which, there are moderated spaces there! No more having to be afraid to ship what you fucking want and getting reported over some Shiro/Pidge platonic hug pic you liked 👍because if someone comes showing their ass, they can be shown the door!

It also helps for if you don't want to flood your main blog with stuff most of your other muturals won't care about (like shitty car mods, in my case)

The site works!

Unlike the Writscrib fiasco, the creators there are taking their time to make the interface user friendly and working before opening the floodgates. That's part of what the $5 and staggered sign up schedule is for

Neat feature: reblogging the post only. Like LJ you can comment below the post , but there's no more having to repost five miles of chain blogging to have a conversation only two other ppl care about.

They're actively recruiting volunteers to help work on the site (particularly those familiar with Ruby on Rails, which IIRC is what AO3 uses too) and have a comm specifically for suggestions and bugs that need fixing.

No intrusive ads as of yet

Did I mention the site actually has a great degree of fuctionality? Cuz it does. It's not perfect (I hate that mobile doesn't display the quote block text on my phone in comments), but most of what it doesn't have--like a queue/save draft feature, no ability to upload video directly or GIFs over 1 MB and a somewhat wonky way to view reblogs and likes--are more nitpicks that I except will be resolved in the future once there's a server capable of hosting such things.

The cool thing is PF just offered a risk-free trial of the site not that long ago that allowed ppl to check it out with a full refund if they weren't happy after three weeks....but they do have a demo log-in that has access to most of the site features so you're able to look at how it works before making a financial commitment.

That's ultimately what got me sold: the level of dedication to a user-friendly set up.

I don't know how deep you are into fandom, but Tumblr was never designed for that purpose, or for anyone who doesn't want every waking thought being broadcast into the air. If you're an artist, this site works (unless you post tagged NSFW, evidently 😐). But like I said, I personally never loved this place to begin with, so its pretty easy for me to walk away from here and the other blog I had that was mostly reblogs which got purged. I fully expected to get scrapped cuz of my pro-shipper stance anyway eventually.

But frankly, I can't trust a site that didn't put the most minimal amount of effort to clean up an issue that's been going on since I've been here (and probably longer than that) to put any effort into doing right by anyone who sticks around after this. I've already been there, done that with FF.net, LJ and countless message boards before that and just like in all four remakes of A Star is Born, the ending is exactly the same.

So… 

Someone tell me.

Is pillowfort truly worth paying for?

I just have a deep aversion to paying for personal blog space. It’s been less than a year since something that required a fee would have completely excluded me, and I do not like the idea of a fandom space that shuts some people out–especially people for whom fandom might be the one happy spot in a stressful time of their life.

Yes, really. Five dollars would have been too much. I’m still struggling to grasp that I can afford that now. 

I’m just not fully onboard with this idea, but on the other hand, I don’t want to be left alone here, either.