#the prize is knowing niche facts

[betweenlands]

my favorite thing to do when someone gets into aesop rock because of us is to send them a few of their favorite songs, get them hooked, and then go "oh yeah btw you've actually heard aesop rock before. no it wasn't the toxic/coffee mashup. he's somewhere even further into your past. you were an undertale fan, right?"

[cloudshuffle]

chikaidol au. yan!penacony

charming, skilled, and unafraid of doing fanservice, aventurine is easily the group's prized star. just bordering on breaking into the mainstream market, one could argue his life is much more comfortable than the average underground idol - and so what? he worked hard to get to where he is today, okay?

has a special love for doing livestreams where he's just chilling. on his bed. those always seem to pull in the most viewers... i wonder why.

veritas ratio comes in close as the next in popularity. something about the stoic, mean types really seems to get to fans going, and he's often the one picked to make quick-witted remarks and cutting observations on tv shows.

(not that he's complaining. out of all four of them, he's probably the one who gets to speak his mind the most often.)

you just know that sunday has pulled stints at butler cafes more often than not. he fills a really specific fan niche - the one with the loyal-to-the-death, obsessed ones who have their walls covered in unreleased photos of him. have they ignited fanwars more than once? well, for sure... but sunday is still grateful for their support regardless <3 after all, aren't they just showing their support for him in their own way?

boothill remains the most carefree, the most untouched by the cutthroat nature of the entertainment scene. in fact, people often wonder how he got into entertainment in the first place, but he just laughs it off and changes the topic.

boothill and his fans are the most universally liked around - it's common for people to say 'came for boothill, stayed for xxx'. hey, he's a sweetheart, okay?

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

OK, people were very nice to me yesterday about my latest absurdly niche blorbo: Guthláf of Rohan. I wrote a little story about him (it's below and it's only 500ish words). But I feel like I can't post it in isolation without explaining myself a little better first.

The fact that he's Théoden’s banner bearer is the only detail about Guthláf’s life in the canon. But just that by itself was enough to grab my interest because I took a class on ancient warfare in college, and one of my major takeaways was that the flag bearers were often the bravest and most selfless guys in a battle. They were highly visible, highly vulnerable, and highly prized as a target for the enemy. That's not an encouraging combo, and they had an appallingly high casualty rate. And yet, the ones who pursued it did so willingly and considered it an honor!

Although Guthláf's name literally means "battle survivor", he did not avoid the flag bearer’s usual fate. He’s listed among the fatalities at the Pelennor Fields (along with Halbarad, the only (?) other named flag bearer in the books). So I wrote the drabble-ish story below about Guthláf’s experience of his own terrifying job. (I also, of course, have a full head canon about his personal life—how he spoke Rohirric with a rural accent that stood out in Edoras, how the early loss of his family drove him toward recklessness, how he was maybe in love with fellow obscure blorbo Wídfara, etc.—if anyone is interested! And I decided that he's the tall, blonde drink of water on the left below, who I believe is otherwise unnamed and is too young to be Elfhelm or Erkenbrand.)

Anyway. Story (ish) here:

Alone among his éored, Guthláf carries no weapon. In his left hand, he holds his shield, his one and only means of protecting himself; in his right, he carries his banner, a charging white horse on a field of deep green that whips furiously in the cold wind above his head.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf does not strike blows. His war is fought not with strength of arms but with strength of spirit. He has only to keep himself going long enough to let his banner do its work. To signal the direction of the charge and mark the vanguard of the attack. To be the rallying point around which scattered troops coalesce. To lead the way, like a torch in the dark, so that those behind know where to follow. He has only to keep that banner flying, set high and stark against the cool blankness of the winter sky, so that every Rohirrim heart can see that they are yet unconquered, that victory still lies ahead.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf can never hide or blend in. His banner draws the eyes of foes just as easily as friends. His every move is visible. Noted. Tracked. Hunted. The hope he kindles in his fellow riders is equaled by the hatred he inspires in their enemies, and there is no greater blow such an enemy can strike than to bring him down, to achieve with the death of one man the turning of a tide that can change the fate of thousands.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf has no hope that he will survive unscathed to see old age. Banner bearers don’t last long in times of war, and Guthláf is his éored’s fourth bearer in five years. He has only to walk the streets of Edoras to be confronted with the reality of how the lucky banner bearers end their days–empty sleeves tied up where an arm used to be, angry red scars across unprotected faces and necks, canes and crutches that will never fully compensate for crushed legs, twisted spines, shattered hips. The unlucky ones end instead in hastily raised barrows, resting eternally in the sometimes distant and friendless lands where they finally slid from the saddle, bloodied and broken and desperately looking for a loyal hand into which they could pass the banner before everything went dark at last.

And yet, Guthláf wanted this job. He fought for this job. It means everything to him. Because even as he rides to his death, charging into battle on his gray warhorse with his banner streaming brilliantly in his wake, he has never felt more alive. He has never felt so much bigger than himself. When he carries his banner, he is no longer just Guthláf, son of Hulac. He is instead the spirit of Helm, and Eorl, and Frumgar and all the great warriors of old. He is the sound of thousands of hoofs thundering together across an open plain. He is the sight of the jagged white peaks towering over the lush green and gold grasses of the Mark. He is Rohan itself, not just a man but an idea. And an idea can never be slain. When he carries his banner, Guthláf becomes immortal.

[sgiandubh]

I want to ship SC, trust me I do and I love them together, but I just can’t fathom how far they stretch a fake relationship (her and T). Like for example the recent picture of them holding hands- now it’s not an insane gesture but definitely one we haven’t seen before. So maybe they truly are just a private couple. But in my heart of hearts I just love her and S together so much, and don’t know what to think because on one hand they are simply everything together and on the other it seems like she really is with T. I’m confused 🥲 what’s your take?

Dear Confused Anon,

I will be brutally honest: no, I do not trust you and I do not care about your crocodile tears. Not a single bit. In fact, once I will be done with my answer to you, you are most probably going to press CTRL+C, then CTRL +V. And run to the nearest Mordor sweatshop, in the hope one of the Three Sopranos will insult me again.

You see, to trust you, I would have to speak with at least a handle, not a coward in disguise. And then, even DMs are neither always safe, nor always honest - I have recently learned it the rough way, despite my best efforts, tried (and up until now failed) to forgive and will never forget.

By now, I suppose everyone got a good look at this splendiferous picture:

Take a long, quiet, hard look at it, Shire.

So organic it could kill a moth colony on the spot.

So heartfelt - she doesn't even look at him.

So sentimental - that icy smile of hers. A happy couple, indeed.

A general round of applause, all across the Nation.

You are very wrong: it is not the first time they are holding hands, I mean, sort of. The much touted London marathon pic immediately comes to mind - although you'd have to admit, I looked and looked and he seemed to be checking her pulse, rather than being lovey-dovey.

A real private couple would never stoop as low as a cheap, laborious retcon, in retaliation for a couple of thousand people speculating on a niche blogging platform.

It took four years, a month and four days after that Remarkable Week-end to see McSideburns clumsily try and claw her hand. Remarkable, indeed.

And are you trying to tell me the MC didn't shake your beliefs and this does?

This perfunctory, formulaic, scripted AF, blip?

Wow. I have no words, Anon.

That unkempt, bland person - for God's sake, mister, tuck that damn shirt in your pants! - looking like the elephant in the china shop at a carefully curated event celebrating the supreme form of French refinement?

This is insulting, to say the least. To her (and her prized image), to Chanel, to this fandom, to S and believe it or not, to himself, too. Granted, the Berluti shoes are showing some improvement and are now clean. Hmph.

So here is what I think, Anon (and I know people are going to shriek and guess what, I do not care, for once):

It's been at least one year this fandom has been asking for this specific pic and for this specific whiplash. A childish tantrum, as she is regularly throwing. Mind you, that doesn't even come close to the painfully slow, monumentally boring Flukenzie Floozy Saga and looks as staged as the Ochoa & S London sighting (ah, patterns!).

This is the reaction to our scriptwriting ineptitude.

This is also the reaction to some underground shenanigans, directly related to a birth certificate apparently being peddled around. I will not discuss this, yet know just that: this is a legal claptrap, right there. I can, and if needed I will prove it. With the cold, surgical precision Mordor is so afraid of.

But she is a mother, for Christ's sake!

A mother!

As I said, I am not a mother and never will be. I do not wish this trial on anyone. But if I know something about life, I can guarantee you a mother would do whatever it takes to protect her child(ren).

Including taking precisely this kind of sad and forgettable pic.

So, there's that. We choose and we choose now: we fall for it once more and let the playbook fiddle with our insecurities once more and post endless trails of old pics once more to soothe the searing indignation.... Or GROW THE FUCK UP and show to whom it may concern we're not buying this shit anymore.

I know what I'll do. You're on your own, Anon: my tough love took you only this far, down the road. Sorry for the length. It was needed.

For the moment, I just booked an appointment with Miss Fotoula (roughly Claire, hehe), my genius hairdresser. I will ask her to refresh my dirty blonde mane.

[lemmetreatya]

enemies to lovers but it's southern reiner and you're both prize winning cow farmers competing at the state fair ((u make out on the ferris wheel and bicker in front of the official 4-H judges))

oh this request is so mf goaatteeddd!! i just know you care me. you love me sooooo much. this is lifes greatest gift and you have literally bestowed it upon me. i kiss you witj open mouth!

It’s Everyone’s Game — Southern!Reiner x fem!Reader

word count: 3.2k+

content: enemies to lovers, happy ending, slight yan!reiner, reader is quite confrontational

Every single year, he did this — Without fail.

It’s been impossible to attend a peaceful Marley’s Grand State Fair without the most irksome competition known to man attending too.

He wasn’t fearless, or a nasty cheater, or even someone who paid behind door bribes. It was simply because he was just as competitive as you. And annoyingly, he chose your beloved niche to be competitive about.

“Betty’s definitely gonna beat yer Tyler II again this year. Your old boy ain’t got shit on us.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned around in a huff as you were met with none other than the notorious Four time MGSF winner — Reiner Braun.

“Quit ya talking, Braun. We don’t know jack for certain so we’ll let the judges be judge of that.”

A smirk that was as sweet as summertime honey graced Reiner’s face. He quickly spat the toothpick that was in his mouth and squeezed the crown of his hat before sizing you up. You definitely noticed how his frame was so immensely empowering over yours.

“Oh, don’t worry. I plan to let them judge because then it means I’m winning again.” He teased.

You opened your mouth to rebuttal but before you could, the man walked off.

With an annoyed clench of your hands you made a short and quiet scream.

It just wasn’t fair. For five years in a row, you had won the state fair’s competition for healthiest cow. Tyler the First used to be your breadwinner, until his son Tyler II surpassed him, but you didn’t mind because the competition was between you and yourself.

That was until, Reiner Braun came onto the scene with his Beloved Betty and started dominating each time after that.

If he won again this year then his title wins would be tied with yours — but you couldn’t have that, nor anymore losses or second places. This was the last year of Tyler II’s prime meaning it was probably also your last chance to become a six time champion — and youngest contestant in the history of Marley’s Grand State Fair to do so.

None of your other cattle were matching to Tyler II’s standard so it was all or nothing.

If only Reiner Braun and Betty weren’t in the goddamn way!

“I-it’s a tie.”

“What?!”

Both you and Reiner rose from your seats.

The judges looked towards the both of you with solemn faces. Each and every one of them have been judging long enough to know the feud the two of you had and that this decision was trouble.

“It’s a tie.” Another judge spoke up with a cleared throat. “Based on all the criteria, both Betty and Tyler II’s match neck and neck. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“That’s not fair!” You instantly object back.

There was a moment of silence as most of the people present were too stunned to speak but with a sigh, Reiner spoke up next.

“I hate to say this but I agree.” Everyone looked to the man in shock. Even you made a surprised face at him as you watched him fold his arms over his chest and shake his head.

“This ain’t no fair. There’s got to be an anomaly somewhere. There has to be a set winner.”

You were so close to agreeing with his statement but there was something in you that just wouldn’t let yourself be in harmony with him.

“Wait, what d’you mean ‘you hate to agree’ with me? What, you think I’m wrong all the time?!”

Turning in your direction with a nonchalant attitude, Reiner shrugged.

“Matter of fact, I do, yes.”

Squinting your eyes at him, your jaw dropped as you stepped into his personal space.

“Why, I oughta—”

“Either way!” The judge loudly spoke over you both as they stepped in again. “We’re not going back on our decision. We’ve decided to crown you both first place and that's final.”

“What happens to the prize then?” You ask.

“Well, we’ll split the money between you each and then you’d both have to share a free ride ticket at the state fair.”

"Share a ticket?" You question.

"As in, take a ride together?" Reiner finishes.

The judge nods accordingly, the resolute decision shown clearly on their face.

"Yes, exactly that."

Both you and Reiner look at each other in mild shock at the judgement. Could this really get any worse?

You really jinxed yourself with that one. This got so much worse.

It never occurred to you how little rides were available for two people who didn’t require to be sardined right against each other.

Upsettingly, the ferris wheel was one of the only rides which could accompany a shared yet distanced pair. It definitely wasn’t your first or favourite choice but at least it meant you got your ticket’s worth.

Right?

“God, can this ride go any slower?”

You moan out loud as your head hits the side of the ferris wheel frame. You can’t help but slouch in your position as your hand slides down the window.

Reiner on the other hand sat quietly on the opposite bench. He hadn’t said much the whole ride, only pensively have his macho arms folded over his burly chest. You would have found something to complain about, like how he was assertively manspreading or tapping his going-out timberlands against the metal floor board, but you weren’t in any better form yourself so you didn’t mention it.

“Maybe the slowness can get you to reflect on your behaviour.” He hummed.

With a surprised expression, more at the prospects those were his first words the whole ride, you quickly sat up in offence.

“I—What behaviour?! I’m pretty well behaved thank you very much.”

Reiner looked at you with a face of perplexity. Usually he’d bite back or say something to provoke you more, but for the first time, he didn’t.

A small sigh left the blonde’s mouth as he looked out the ferris wheel’s view. His hand came up to slightly pinch his hat by the front and tip it further of his eyes.

“Look, after today’s competition, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t we just call a truce? There’s no point fighting over this petty shit, it’s tiring.” He said in a low voice.

His words made you frown.

You know you weren’t the most receptive individual when it came to being the ‘bigger person’, but even this seemed bizarre for Reiner to address.

From the moment you met him, he was against you. There’s never been a good day of friendly fire between you — it’s always been fire and opposition. Like yes, he was a good looking guy, and you’re sure he was nice to everyone else — but that's just not the relationship you two had.

If this was a joke, it was a very distasteful one.

Sitting further back onto your side of the bench, you mirror his stature by folding your arms over your own chest. Only difference is that you folded your legs instead.

“I’m not in a laughing mood, Braun. This isn’t time for any’a these games of yours.”

Reiner shook his head as he shrugged.

“Okay, but I’m not pulling your leg, I’m being serious. We’re big enough adults, aren’t we? — I think we’re capable of calling a truce for the sake of peace.”

“Peace?” Your voice went an octave higher. “Between me and you?”

Reiner looked at you expectantly, his face unwavering. With how solid his resolve was, you knew he wasn’t joking and in all honesty, that truly and utterly confused you.

If you were in a any goofier mood, you would have laughed.

“Braun, last time I checked, you hated me — and quite vehemently, may I add. So tell me, why on God’s green earth would I suddenly call a truce?”

With a face of confusion and hands cupping his knees, Reiner bends forwards in his seat.

“Wait, you think I hate you?!”

That caught you off guard. So much so that your throat made a short circuiting noise.

You sure as hell hope this man wasn’t trying to gaslight you right now because now he’s even gotten you questioning every interaction you’ve had with him the whole five years you’ve known his sorry ass.

Holding your hands up in front of you, momentarily squeezed your eyes shut.

“I—Is that a trick question? Of course you hate me, Braun. You always have...”

A louder sigh than before left Reiner’s mouth. Leaning back, the man slowly removed his hat from his head, the other hand ruffling his blonde hairs.

All you could do was watch in shock as Reiner looked at you with eyes you've never seen him look at you with before. The man placed his hat down on the bench next to him before standing up with an exasperated expression. With his hands on his hips, he stood within the middle of the carriage and pensively looked out of the ferris wheel view.

Several seconds passed but they all felt like excruciating minutes. Something about this conversation, Reiner’s attitude, just all felt so off.

Looking up at his towering figure, you couldn’t help but let your expression sour. With his short sleeved muscle t-shirt and Levi jeans, the man looked healthy, but you couldn’t help but think he was sick in the head for pulling such a joke.

“Reiner, I asked you a question.” You tried to assert.

With a pained squint of his face, the blonde turned his face to the side.

“I know!” He almost whined. “Just… give me a second, alright? I’m tryna formulate what I wanna say.”

Your body language slumped against the bench but it was a mask for the suffocating feeling of your heart drumming hard against your chest — more than it has for any contest.

All of this felt so surreal right now. The outcome of the competition, the fact that you were in this stupid ferris wheel, whatever it was that was going on with Reiner — it just seemed like such an out of body experience but you knew you were present.

Pressing his hand up against the roof of the ferris wheel, Reiner sighed before looking down at you.

“Woman, I have never hated your guts for the life of me. If anything I envied you. You seem to do everything so flawlessly and effortlessly and I’m jealous of that. I gotta work real hard to get Betty to beat your boys, you know that? When I win, it feels good. Why? Because it means I’ve worked hard, not because it means I get to see you lookin’ all despondent.”

You thickly gulped as you looked up at the man and in return meet his eyes. There was so much more he wanted to say, you could just see it in the way his mouth twitched every time he looked to you.

But after hearing those words, the situation was becoming more clear. You didn’t care that Reiner thought you did things with no effort. Your whole life had been people thinking the exact same thing, so to you the presumption was uninflecting. But right now, you’re sworn enemy, was telling you how they never hated you or liked seeing you sad.

That he was jealous of you? Envious of you? Inspired to do better by you?

All of this could easily be used to power on rivalry but that’s not what Reiner was saying. Right now, this man was admitting to hating how winning made you sad — and how that, made him sadder.

“So…you saying you never had anything against me?”

You ask unsurely.

The blonde man made a hazy face as he twisted his hand to show contemplation.

“Aside from a lil friendly competition fire, I’ve never had anything against you. Well, at least nothing negative.”

He mumbled the last part but it didn’t go unheard by you. For such a life changing subject, you couldn’t afford to miss out on any information that could help you understand what this was about.

“That last bit, whaddyou mean by ‘at least nothing negative’?” You pointed at him.

Reiner looked as if he’d been caught off guard. He grumbles beneath his breath as he turns his head away from you again, but all it revealed to you was the tale-telling signs as the tips of his ears blushed rosy red.

“It’s nothing important.” He retorts.

“Doesn’t matter; repeat it. You’ve decided to lay everything out into the open so you might as well say what you mean.”

With a lethargic groan, Reiner wiped his hand over his face. You could tell whatever he was going to say was going to be deep considering the uncertain glance gave you.

However, when he let out a dry laugh and placed his hands onto his hips, you knew that was his ‘fuck it’ moment.

“Okay, fine. I didn’t have anything negative against you but I guess the only reason why I was so determined to win each year was because it’d at least mean you’d notice me and I wanted you to notice me because I had a silly crush on you. There. I said it. Happy now?”

His voice was so calm but you could tell he was nervous as hell due to how he spoke in one breath. The way his fingers flexed and his footing constantly swapped, he was anything but confident revealing what he just did. But you don’t blame him, confessing your feelings to someone would always feel daunting, regardless of age. You even felt nervous for him.

But alas, Reiner had taken courage to say what he’d been hiding for all this time. You guess the least you could do was take his ignited fire and turn it into a flame.

Clearing your throat, you patted the seat next to you as you scooched up closer towards the wall. Reiner instantly got the message and sat himself besides you.

The tall man downsized himself to be seated next to you. However, as soon as he sat down, your thighs were warmly touching. You tried to shuffle over but it was to no avail, you were already stuck to the wall. What was even worse was that Reiner’s arms had nowhere to rest. The both of you tried to squeeze each way to make more room but nothing worked.

“Damn, these things real tight.” He lowly joked and you couldn't help but laugh along.

Inevitably, the both of you tried to stick round it but it ended up with one of Reiner’s arms draped around your shoulders and one of your arms leaning on his thigh.

When you initially invited him down, you didn’t think the fitting would be that tight but you guess for a large man, most things weren’t tailored to his size. Imagine how bad it would have been if you chose a rollacoaster ride?!

“How long?”

After a minute or so of silence sat in that position, you spoke.

Reiner looked down at you once he heard you speak. He had his own head being tomb raided with so many thoughts already so he was glad you said something to finally break the cycle.

“How long for what?”

“That you’ve had a crush on me.” You reiterated.

“Since the day I first laid eyes on you.” Reiner instantaneously replied.

With an upset face you looked up at the man. You couldn’t help but notice how that phrase seem like he’d finally released a long breath he’d been holding. He must have felt that way for a long time.

Poking Reiner’s chest you jutted your lip out.

“All that time? How did you expect me to know you liked me? Especially with all that competition shit we had going on, it’d be impossible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Reiner looked away from you. Although that wasn’t for long because instantly he was back looking straight down at you with a face of admiration — blushes and all.

“Yeah, well I guess it’s my fault in a way. Makes sense you wouldn’t have known concerning how we always seemed at each other’s throats.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” You mumbled.

Although the air was thick with a new fodder of feelings, neither you nor Reiner were able to keep your eyes off of each other. If anything you’re not surprised; Even within these conditions, you were still going head to head to see who’d look away first.

“I know this’ll sound sudden but is it okay if I kiss you? It’s fine if you say no.”

Reiner eventually mumbles.

You knew it was coming because the way his thumb was soothing over your shoulder could only illicit to such things, but nevertheless, it still caught you off guard.

Blinking rapidly, you quickly glance out at the view behind him. You hadn’t noticed but the both of you were nearing the end of your ride.

“And what if I did say no?” You tease as your eyes glance back to him.

With a shrug, Reiner replied.

“Then I’d back up.”

“Without a fight?” You ask.

“Without question.”

You were glad Reiner had concern for how you felt. For now, it had only been him to confess his feelings so it was encouraging that he was still aware that you didn’t owe him anything.

But even whilst being slightly skeptical of these new revelations, you still wanted to indulge just this once.

With your hand on his thigh slowly inching towards the inner part of his leg, you looked up at Reiner from beneath your lashes.

“Don’t back up.” You whisper, your words feather light.

And that was all the access Reiner needed.

With a delicate swoop, the blonde bent down to softly press his lips against yours. His hand that wasn’t already behind your back came up to lightly press against your cheek, the kiss all consuming as the man practically sucked you up.

If you hadn’t believed Reiner had liked you for ages before, then you did now. The amount of desperate panting yet wholesome restraint in not to devour you then and there was so evident in how he kissed you.

Its not like you haven’t been kissed before, but the experience felt so new and fresh to you that it couldn’t help but feel like it was your first.

Your own hand tentatively came up to wrap around the nape of his neck and you couldn’t deny how hot the growl he made in you doing that, was.

No one could say for sure how long you two stayed like that. Especially not when the both of you were practically gasping for air when you pulled back.

With his lips blood and flushed pink — slick with a mix of both your spits — you couldn’t help but occasionally glance down at them as you spoke to Reiner with blown eyes.

“I’m starting to feel like you called a truce just so you could kiss me.”

A low chuckle left the man’s lips. He couldn’t help but to lean forwards and land another kiss to your lips before quickly pulling back.

“Oh, I’m planning to do much more than just that.”

He said whilst pulling you closer to tug you onto his lap.

Maybe, just maybe, coming joint first place wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

[blakenation1]

Dead Poets Society @ an orientation?!?!

I have my college orientation tomorrow and I'm so nervous it's not even funny. So! To cope I am thinking "What would the Dead Poets Society do?" Under the cut 🤔

Cameron is trying to be as productive as he can. He's going to every tent, asking every question that comes to mind, scheduling meetings with advisors that he probably doesn't even need, he's making as many friends as he can. Taking orientation serious AF.

Knox is so nervous bless his heart. He shows up to orientation prepared though. I can see him now (if it's a college orientation) with his little like casual outfit on, backpack on with whatever he will need in it, distressed look on his face, hands gripping his backpack straps like his backpack is gonna grow legs and run away. HELP HIM!!! He ends up having a good time and making a lot of friends though.

Neil is excited, literally calm down bby. He shows up and is talking to anyone and everyone. "Hey! I like your scarf! You know- I had this friend one time and he had this scarf-" literally him. I need Neil to come up to me and strike up a conversation with me at orientation. Please I'm so scared.

Charlie is having a blast, social anxiety is scared of him (and Neil, obvi). Probably flirting with some folks, I get it Charlie, lots of college folks are very pretty. Honestly, a lot like Neil. Running around making friends, getting to know campus life and all that jazz. Falls asleep during presentations been there done that.

Meeks is LOVING the campus landmarks, "oh look theres the [insert mascot here] statue. Did you know in 1932-" literally knows all kinds of random facts about whatever university he's going to. Talks it up big time with other people in his major study. "yeah back in school me and my friend made this radio and-" blah blah blah lots of smarty pants language. Im my mind, Pitts and Meeks ended up going to the same school i wish and they'd have lots of fun together. Eating lunch together, pointing out fun little things, "oh look at that funny looking car!" etc.

Pitts is nervous when he first gets there, but he ends up loosening up and maybe even trying a few new things. If they had games or something, I know he would really enjoy that. "Meeks, look! They're having a scavenger hunt, I'm gonna go win >:)" Yay for Pittsie, he had a lot of fun and maybe even brought home some prizes or something.

Todd is very nervous, maybe ready to go home, feeling overstimulated. I get it Todd, I get it. Why I'm bringing fidgets tomorrow so I have something to keep my hands busy. Anyway, Todd, majoring in English, ends up chatting with the poetry club, and maybe even a few new clubs, seeing what's around. After talking casually with a few other people in his major, I can see him feeling a lot better, and becoming more lively, now that he knows a few people.

Yay for Dead Poets Society!! Surviving orientation!! This is so niche but I feel less nervous I reckon!!

[trans-ralsei]

that i came this far was a surprise, even to me.

i mean, it wasn't unique. i'd interviewed at this specific broadcaster twice. people love my stupid CV with 'award-winning' (yes I won 2nd prize for my reporting some years back) and the name brand of the wire agency they all love.

but yeah. i came this far, again.

i've been thinking of this job in general. of seeing if i could still do it, the breaking news aspect of it all. the fact i quit to try to do something else and then Flunked Out of the something else is really jarring isn't it?

and then there's the unemployable stuff. i mean, i do community organising on the side. i do that pretty loudly too. in effect, my efforts have caused some change, at the domestic paper i worked for, and hopefully on the pan-Asian level. but yeah you wouldn't consider 'being trans' a value here. i can't put that on a resume because it outs me immediately

i should have dropped it. i shouldn't have picked up the second interview round at this broadcaster. i guess i wanted to see if i could still do it, four years after aspiring to be the best reporter from my batch at J-school and two years leaving my niche visual verification position.

if i spoke to my 24-year-old self, they'd have probably asked me why i wasn't on track to the goal we set out at the start. they'd probably have asked what we did in this time. they might be happy that I am a girl but they wouldn't be happy that I couldn't be a girl and an esteemed journalist at the same time. they might wonder why i felt overwhelmed. 'keep running', they might say.

they'd been full of energy then. they would be terrified about how the world was, but they were full of energy. to do things. to change things for the better.

i don't know what i'm supposed to be doing

[melodyofthevoid]

[ ○ Hi Mel sorry to bother you I came here again for questions about ocean idiots and so ]

1) if there are still races that we don't know? ( or are there only Centaurs, animal people, half man, half bird, mermaids, dragons)

2) how do you and your friends feel when some characters are confused with pronouns??

3) if there are some facts about ocean idiots?👀

4) what was the reaction of the characters of the Ocean idiots to the future (for example, to the modern world where phones, televisions, cars, airplanes and other technologies)

[○By the way, Mel, I want to say that you are the best writer in the world, I wish you happiness and health <3 ]

No, not really. We didn't want to overcomplicate things for ourselves. There are selkies but like. Idk. Mer offshoot. We're not super keen on over explaining everything? If that makes sense to you, I guess.

I won't lie to you it's really disheartening. Like on some level it's fine to have maybe an initial "oh oops" moment but we... don't need to know that? The comments towards Delta are especially heinous. Like "Oh I thought she was a man, maybe she should be more feminine". Constantly. Just- unending. Like it doesn't need to be a big deal! Most of our frustration stems from that. Again slip ups happen! I get it! But the comments are irritating. This latest video was much better thank christ.

Hmm… Well in terms of little niche facts that I’ve been working on, there’s a lot of little things that everyday folks use as a way to endear themselves to their patron god of choice! Wood bead bracelets are popular for farmers and followers of Dahlia, with more elaborate designs being highly prized. Obsidian jewelry is prized for Ebeko’s followers to the point where his cult has a monopoly on it. It doesn’t tend to leave the continent which makes any that does get out quite pricy. Shell bracelets/jewelry are standard for just about everyone although some sailors prefer rope (shells can be rather fragile). As for Larus, there’s some debate whether shiny gold jewelry will gain his favor or his ire. It’s neither, it’s his attention you may get and that… can really go either way.

I’ll be frank I don’t really know? Mariza would probably hate cruise ships (as should we all). Dahlia would probably go full poison ivy as she should? Larus would fucking love sky diving and all that shit like hell yeah he’ll share the skies. If Ebeko could play animal crossing I think that would heal him.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-06-03

Finicky little situations

Listening: I had a hankering for some Clark Powell and went looking through her Bandcamp, and listened to Labyrinth's Heart

This album is really interesting, in that a lot of it ends up in the Psycholonials soundtrack, almost all of it really. Forgotten is the basis for the interstitial chapter music and finale track, Misbegotten has the foundations for one of my favourites, Outlaw.

Clark's more recent stuff is this extremely chill pop-y sounding music, and through association with Psycholonials it is perfect hot summer day background music.

Oh also. Finished S4 of The Magnus Archives. Bold way to end the season, just blam hey hello we're ending the world. See you on the flipside!

I will say that I do not really get where John/Martin is really meant to go, and I know people did not like the last season that much, but I have found it pretty good. It is getting a little too close to exiting the Monster Of The Week mode that I prize so much, but it's still there.

Watching: DeviantOllam's extremely good long talk on fire safety code, ostensibly in the context of using it as a cover for breaking in to buildings but it is honestly mostly just a chance for a bunch of nerds to learn about extremely specialized tools and get more niche facts about the built environment. This is that four hour disney star wars talk for people who have NFC card reprogrammers.

DeviantOllam does some really great talks on a lot on physical security but is also just, very good at talking, he delivers things in a way that gets you invested in it even if you had no idea you would care.

Reading: A little shy of halfway through The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman, the second book in the new trilogy The Secret Commonwealth, which started with La Belle Sauvage. I read La Belle Sauvage a few years ago and had to go refresh on a synopsis.

Philip Pullman is a truly great writer, and now that he has killed god in this universe he can focus on more interesting things, like philosophy of the soul when some (or potentially all) of your soul is also a kitty cat.

Jumping us forward to 20-year old Lyra is a bit of an adjustment. You get so used to thinking over her as the very specific like 12 year old that she is throughout His Dark Materials. She says fuck now! It's also exceedingly funny that she appears to have fallen in with The Rationalists in a world with witches and magic. I guess spoilers?

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Every now and again I remember how impossibly heartbreaking the end of Amber Spyglass is and I'm like holy shit he really did that to his readers. I think it took me about a week to pick up a different book after I finished that.

Playing: Beat dark souls! More extensive talk about that in the #dark souls tag.

The story is of course homeopathic. Like Pyre, the game takes place after all the interesting stuff, but unlike Pyre, there isn't really a strong core of characters to watch through the aftermath. I'm not entirely clear why we were trying to link the flame, other than that the guy in the Asylum told us it was a legend.

Ultimately, unimportant, the gameplay is mostly great! The final bosses are a little weird, they feel weak and their areas all feel like they're missing something, but I quite liked Nito and the Four Kings, and Seath was mostly fine. Hey wait, the furtive pygmy! I forgot about the furtive pygmy, just like they said! Nevermind fuck everything I just said, best game in history.

I will go back and try to NG+, also some people mentioned the DLC which I have no idea how to access, but I will look that up probably. It sounds like there's some good bosses in there.

The combat really is fun, although I maintain that there are lot of combat issues that are really more like UI issues than actual game design issues, things like the parry mechanic being so fiddly and the upgrade system being inscrutable.

Making: LuaLED has me in a hole because I have to do Web Shit and I do not know how to do Web Shit. This is a me issue not a Web issue, I just never really put the time into learning more than the basics of HTML and HTTP.

Tools and Equipment: aerc is a simple email client for the terminal.

I have used various Mail clients over the years and I always find myself gravitating back towards just using whatever web client my provider has because I don't give a shit and I don't get that many emails, but I have recently wanted to handle my work emails from the terminal for reasons, and I tried out aerc. I've previously used Mutt but setting up Mutt is a huge pain in the ass and it has one billion controls that mean nothing if you're not doing mailbox stuff, because it's from ten thousand years ago.

aerc is stripped down and optimized for a few specific use cases, one of the big ones being "handling emailed git patches" which I don't do much but do do sometimes. It's also a pretty nice general text mail client, it's easy to set up and it lets you get into using it very easily.

[gardenerian]

tag game! tag game! it's time for a tag game! ty @heymacy @energievie @deedala @mmmichyyy @sxltburn for the tags ❤️ i smooch you all!

name: mel

age: wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?

your time zone: edt babey

what do you do for work? suffer academia

do you have any pets? sebastian, the dumbest of all dumb baby cats

what first drew you to this fandom? i watched the show off and on while it was airing, then gave up after a while. rewatched the entire thing juuuust before the pandemic after i saw a video clip here on the tumbles. i dipped my toe into the fandom then, but once quarantine really started my brain was all in! and i met the loves of my entire life - it's been the best thing!

are you a morning person or a night owl? hoot hoot

what are your hobbies? mmmm! niche history things, writing, readin books, Consuming Media aklsfh, walks and being outside, goofing around with my pals

how tall are you? 5'3 🤏🏻

if you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? west of ireland

favorite color? some days it's blue, some days it's green

favorite book? *knocks on your door* hello, do you have a moment to talk about how to build a boat by elaine feeney and how it was SNUBBED by the booker prize committee?

favorite movie? the royal tenenbaums orrr bright star ✨

favorite fic? restoration 🛠

favorite musical artist: petey, future islands, baby queen

what is your average screen time so far this week? i refuse to look at this lmao

what's the first app you open in the morning? depending on the day, it's email (everybody say booooo) or discord (everybody say yaaaaaaay)

how long have you been on tumblr? oh my god lol FOURTEEN YEARS i will die here 😇

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: my due date was april 26 but i said fuck that and arrived in february and i remain convinced that this dictates my entire personality I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SPRING BABY 😤

feelin tag shy but if you are reading this i am tagging you! if you want! i love you!

[metalandmagi]

I'm re-watching High School Musical the Musical The Series (again) and even though I love this silly show so much, I'm compiling a list of things I would change for my own sanity. Get ready for some of the most niche nitpicks you can imagine!

Give the poor background kid who plays Ryan in HSM during season 1 his part back. We only ever see this kid during the "Status Quo" dance. He's not even in "Bop to the Top." I love Seb, but dang it, Sharpay and Ryan are an iconic duo.😞

Figure out what to do with EJ from the beginning. He is such a good character at his core, but the writers fumbled the bag with him so many times.

Ashlyn or Seb should have gotten offered a spot at the Youth Actors Conservatory instead of Nini. You know they carried that musical, and then we could have avoided the entire YAC arc.

More Natalie Bagley (the stage manager). She's hilarious and has a good voice.

More Kaden (background guy with bleached blond hair). Idk I just like him for some reason 😅

Make Seb the Beast in season 2. Justice for Seb!!!!!

The award that they want to win in season 2 not only has a cash prize, but a scholarship too! If the wildcats won, that scholarship could have seriously changed someone's life!

Lily seems like the type of person who would let the Wildcats perform The Rose Song and let them get disqualified without telling them about the rule. Just saying...

Why are the Wildcats ordered to stop production on Beauty and the Beast for going to North High and literally not doing anything, while a North High teacher stole their property and yet doesn't get punished? Also, why do they just drop this plot point later? I don't remember seeing it get resolved.

Ditch Ashlyn's "make way for Belle" attitude at the beginning of season 3. Seriously, what's up with that? Do the writers know her at all?

WE NEVER GET TO SEE JET ACTUALLY PLAY HANS!? WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?

We never find out what Carlos was aiming to do by changing the Frozen cast list. Who did he want to play?🤔

This is going to be an unpopular opinion, but I didn't need Maddox and Ashlyn to get together. We could keep the arc about Ashlyn (and Big Red) discovering she's bi at camp, but I just don't feel the same chemistry as I do between her and Big Red. They're fine together; there's nothing really wrong with the ship. I just didn't like the way Ashlyn and Big Red broke up. And it felt a little like both Ashlyn and Big Red had to end up with people of the same gender to somehow "validate" the fact that they're both bi. (Yes it's a funny reveal at the end with the fake French kid revealing that he likes Big Red, but the point still stands). Again, Ashlyn and Maddox isn't a bad ship at all, I just feel like everything between these 3 could have been handled better.

Get rid of Dani is season 4. I'm sorry, but she doesn't add anything to the show (even though she gets chiller by the end). Nothing against her, she's just a nothing character.

BRING BIG RED AND SEB BACK FOR THE ENTIRE LAST SEASON! And scrap the cheating plotline. I don't have the patience for this nonsense.

I love Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara being end game (they're just like Luke and Lorelai from Gilmore Girls!!!!!), but there has to be a better reason to break up with Ricky's dad. It felt so rushed.

Where the hell were all the extras that end up in the musical when Miss Jenn needed eight people to show up to the rehearsal? The main characters ditching that important rehearsal already annoyed me, but you'd think she'd get some of the ensemble to show up. Even if they said that most of them are doing the movie, some of them could have showed up, considering how big the ensemble is in the end.

Also in season 4, they talk about Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara's first meeting, but don't we see their first meeting back in season 1? Like...isn't it completely different?

As much as I love Miss Jenn wanting to continue teaching, I feel like she should have gotten her Broadway moment, at least for a little while. She was born to play Glinda.

I need to see Emmy become Natalie Bagley's protégé. They deserve to rule the world.

We needed an Olivia cameo at the end of the series. It could have been her face-timing the Wildcats. It could have been the camera zooming out when the rest of them were singing "Born to be Brave" to have her watching the video. Something! Anything!

[thomasschabot]

find myself running home to you

thomas chabot x fem!reader

for thomas, big wins don’t always have to be celebrated in flashy ways

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cursing

a/n: first fic in almost five months, what’s good? this is extremely niche content but i simply do not care 😌

⭑⭒⭑

Ottawa offers enveloping anonymity and you love it. 

It’s a city with too much going on governmentally for people to care about hockey all that much, but the loyal handfuls still respect the privacy of those in the organization and leave them alone, save for the rare time a child asks to take a picture with their favourite player. You’re thankful this is where your roots are extending, settling into the suburbs and occasionally winding their way down Dalhousie into the heart of the Market for a night out. No one bothers you, even when you’re out with Thomas, and it’s the thing that will keep you from ever leaving. The future of a professional athlete is unpredictable, you know, but you’ll fight your boyfriend tooth and nail if he ever wants to move somewhere else unless they’re offering him millions of more dollars and the same opportunity to live your lives publicly and without incident.

The fact that no one cares who you are allows you to sit in your favourite spot at the Canadian Tire Centre — a seat in the 300s directly across from the home bench so you can see everything Thomas experiences. He’s not particularly skilled at hiding his emotions, but you adore him because of it. Even when the two of you are arguing you know exactly how he feels, and it often leads to quicker resolutions because neither of you are afraid of communicating. 

As you slide into your seat far away from the friends and family box, where many other significant others and their families are enjoying the game, the person sitting next to you gives a smile. 

“Right choice of jersey there, eh?” the older gentleman laughs, gesturing to his back to show you’re wearing the same jersey. 

It’s a Giroux reverse retro, with all the trimmings that made the 2007 cup run so spectacular even if G wasn’t anywhere near Ottawa, and it’s your most prized possession. Thomas had gifted it to you one random Sunday, and simply shrugged when you asked why. The smallest detail on the back is what makes it so special — a signature is on the bottom of the eight, along with a little smiley face. 

“I like to think so,” you reply, smiling wide at the fact this man either doesn’t know who you are or doesn’t care. “And I think the boys are going to come out guns-a-blazing.”

You know this, of course, because the energy flowing through your home and the homes of other Senators has been electric through the holiday break, but you aren’t going to spill that secret. The man returns your grin tenfold. “I certainly hope so. I didn’t come all the way across the province in a snowstorm to watch them lose.”

⭒⭑⭒

Lose they do not. The Sens play their hearts out, keeping up with the slightly sloppy hockey Boston played. New teammates are becoming more and more like brothers as the seasons plods along, and it’s beginning to show — every single line has undeniable chemistry that’s palpable everywhere in the arena, including the press box. It’s all the beat reporters can write about, and the public can’t get enough of the content, allowing the guys to focus on playing hockey, which is what they do best. 

The game is scoreless through a period and a half, and then the floodgates open. It’s a constant flip-flop of goals being scored, with neither team ever eeking ahead to grab a hold of the lead. Thomas continues to be the playmaker he is, passing when the time is right, connecting on clean hits, and eventually bagging an assist. It’s a relatively quiet third period, with most of the action happening in the neutral zone, but you’re on the edge of your seat as the clock winds down. Regulation ends with a tie, and you bounce your leg up and down rapidly while Thomas gets instructions from the coaching staff on how he should proceed through the first shift of overtime.

“Nervous?”

It’s your seat neighbour, eyes holding a look of fond curiosity. He’s showing no obvious signs of concern of distress, and truly looks like he’s going to enjoy what’s coming. “You look like you might puke.”

A small laugh bubbles from your throat. “I loathe OT,” you explain, “It’s so nerve wracking.”

“If you’re going to hurl, please try not to get it on my shoes. My daughter bought them for me as a Christmas gift with her first pay cheque.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, to assure him you won’t actually be sick despite the clamminess creeping into your skin, because the puck drops and the clock starts counting down. Five minutes is an awfully long time when there’s only three players a side and changes happen less frequently. Thomas is on the ice for nearly two minutes before he’s able to come off — somehow he has the puck more than anyone else, taking the occasional shot but mostly keeping it away from the rapidly tiring Boston forwards. You watch with bated breath, bracing yourself for the overwhelming emotions of elation or despair, depending on which net the puck lands in. To the surprise of almost everyone, Talbot stops every shot that comes his way, and the overtime period yields no results. 

Before your friend for the night can even open his mouth you’re firing words out of your mouth so quickly they almost don’t make sense. “I fucking hate shootouts and they better win or lose before Chabby has to go up.”

It’s common knowledge that Thomas isn’t confident in shootout situations, and though he’s actively working on it, they only happen every-so-often. He can’t seem to muster the swagger of Brady or the pure skill of Tim, and opposing goalies can read him from miles away. You hope he doesn’t have to step up to the plate because you know if he’s the reason the team loses Thomas will hold it on his shoulders for weeks. 

“Looks like it’ll be DeBrincat, Stütlze, and Batherson.” You barely hear what’s being said to you, ears ringing so loud it’s almost unbearable. 

No air leaves your lungs as you watch Alex get ready. It’s only once his puck buries itself in the back of the net do you exhale, and even then it’s shallow — the lead could be nullified in a matter of seconds. Luckily it’s not, and you slowly return to your normal breathing pattern. Tim misses, but so does DeBrusk, and when Batherson narrowly misses victory is so close you can almost taste it. Never in your life have you wanted Patrice Bergeron to fumble so badly, and there’s a prick in your heart for wishing ill on one of Thomas’s friends, but you need the Senators to win. The team needs the confidence boost of beating the team with the best record in the entire league. 

The ten seconds of Bergeron’s attempt pass in slow motion, and when Talbot closes his glove around the puck you’re out of your seat, jumping up and down and screaming at the top of your lungs. You can’t believe the team pulled it off, and you cheers the people around you with an empty water bottle you’ve been holding on to since the second intermission. As your boyfriend skates towards centre ice to celebrate with his teammates he raises his stick in your general direction — not knowing exactly where you are but knowing you’ll know who the gesture was for.

People don’t linger for long, wanting to try and beat the traffic, so you wish the man who kept you company safe travels as he sneaks past and watch the crowd disperse. You stay until the stars of the game take to the ice and chuckle when DeBrincat nearly trips over the bench on his way to the dressing room corridor. With a rapidly depopulating section and a clear pathway to the corridor that takes you down to ice level, you gather your jacket and walk at a leisurely pace. No one will bother you anyways if they do recognize your face from the occasional social media post, and you silently thank the late Bryan Murray for drafting Thomas to a city with such a respect for privacy. 

Once you’re safely in the hallway outside the dressing room a small group of children swarm you. A couple of seasons ago you became the unofficial team sitter, offering your house up when exhausted parents needed a break, and the baby senators adore you. You pick them up and spin them around one at a time before giving a quick hug and suggesting they find their families so they can go home. There’s no sign of Thomas, but you don’t expect there to be, so you busy yourself by firing off a few texts to those who might want an update on your evening. 

Wish you could have come! You send to your grandfather, who was supposed to make the journey up but came down with the flu. 

Your mom gets Waiting to say goodnight to Tom before going home and calling it a night. The stress of all that extra time drained me lol!

Friends get some variation of Were you watching??! Holy shit and a few even get gifs that encapsulate your pride. 

The shadow of your boyfriend appears from the doorway, and the tired smile that rises on his features at the sight of you makes your heart melt. Fresh out of the shower, Thomas smells like home, and you’re glad you decided to wait him out before travelling across the suburb to the house you’ve shared for nearly half a decade. Your arms find his waist and you hold him close, letting him place a kiss on your temple before pulling back to talk to him for the first time in hours. 

“Hell of a game, eh?”

“Yeah,” Thomas smiles, “It was. Where did you sit today?”

“Near the front of 324,” you reply before reaching up to brush a stray hair behind his ear. “I’m beat. All that excitement gave me a few premature greys and zapped all my energy. Just wanted to say goodnight before I left since I can guarantee I’ll be asleep when you get home.”

He laughs, and you know it came from his stomach because it’s loud and strong. “You can’t wait up an extra thirty minutes for me? I just have a short media slot and then I’m out of here.”

Stubbornly you shake your head. “Go out and celebrate with the boys! You all deserve to relish the win and unwind a little. I think I overheard some of the girls say they wanted to make the trip downtown to Earl of Sussex once more before it closes.” 

Thomas shakes his head almost feverishly, as if he’s afraid being casual won’t convey his distaste for being anywhere you aren’t. He places a chaste kiss to your lips before beginning to walk away, knowing Brady is going to give him shit for being late to their interview.

“I’ll see you at home sweetheart.”

⭑⭒⭑

You’re tucked away in the upstairs bathroom brushing your teeth when the door unlocks. It’s scary how fast Thomas got home, exactly thirty-five minutes after you left the arena, and you have no doubt speed limits were ignored. 

“Tommy?” you call down the dimly lit staircase, “Can you bring me a glass of water when you come up?”

There’s no reply, but you hear the lightswitch in the kitchen flip on and the faucet running. Lights periodically turn on and off as he moves around the first floor, placing things in their proper spots and making sure the rooms remain tidy. If there’s one thing your boyfriend is, it’s someone who needs order and cleanliness. Footsteps finally pad up the stairs, muffled by the socks still on his feet, just as you’re pulling back the covers to slip under. It still takes Thomas a minute or two to enter the bedroom because he stops to use the washroom and hangs his suit with the growing collection in the hall closet that needs to go to the dry cleaners. 

Head in a crossword puzzle and the glasses you only wear in the house slipping down the bridge of your nose, you offer a gentle smile when Thomas pulls the pyjama bottoms he’s worn for the past few nights out from under his pillow. Neither of you speak while he settles in beside you, grabbing the crime novel you got him for Christmas from his nightstand and tucking you into his side. Your head rests on his chest, and you hold the pen in your mouth when not filling in spaces so you can keep a chilled hand on his bare stomach because he’s the human embodiment of a furnace and you need to feel your fingers.

The dull hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house beside the pair of you breathing in tandem. Occasionally there’s the sound of a page flipping, but Thomas reads at a slower pace than you and he keeps getting distracted by your grumbling about how the clues don’t make any sense. 

“I think it’s agape,” Thomas offers with a shrug. “Nothing else fits.”

You shake your head a few too many times and end up knocking it on his shoulder. “I’ve tried but it doesn’t fit.” To demonstrate your point you ghost the pen over the blank boxes, not leaving a mark.

A laugh erupts from the body propping you up, and you feel it trickle down your spine. “That would be because you’re spelling it wrong.”

“Fuck.”

“You must be really tired.”

Instead of responding you let out a yawn, and it forces Thomas to follow. Without a word, you both put away your respective nighttime activities and turn off the lamps illuminating the room. Bathed in darkness you’re able to bury into the mountain of pillows you sleep with and close your eyes. The soft thumps of your boyfriend fluffing his pillows lets you know he’ll also be in deep slumber soon enough, and you don’t feel guilty about not extending the cuddle session. Sleep is a solo sport, and while you love Thomas to death you don’t want him constricting your movements in the night because his arms are too tight around you — luckily he agrees, and almost every night ends with a sweet kiss before you turn in your respective directions for the night.

As hell settles in for a night of deep rest, with the option to sleep in given a later call time for the travel to Washington, Thomas mumbles into the darkness, “Goodnight, mon chou.”

The term of endearment makes your stomach flutter for a split second before it rests there, blooming like a garden and warming your insides. 

“Night, Tom. I love you.”

He’s already dozing off, and you doubt he comprehended what you said. You follow shortly after, a smile on your face as the realization sinks in that no matter how much of a high Thomas is running on with his career, he’d rather spend the downtime quietly with you than with anyone else.

⭒⭑⭒

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3

[evwritesgames]

Species of Starjourn: Reneans

Reneans are a cephalopod species that evolved on a large, swampy, tectonically active moon with no oceans. Instead, their homeworld features massive expanses of low, brackish wetlands between large, dry continents. Life evolved to fill niches within the abundant wetlands and is far more scarce in the dry, dusty regions which are prone to devastating sandstorms.

Reneans have hardly changed physiologically over their evolution, retaining certain abilities such as extreme flexibility in spite of their tendency to hold their bodies in a rigid shape. Reneans are essentially one big muscle and as such are disproportionately strong for their size.Their skin is also capable of mimicking almost any texture or color and they enjoy a total degree of mental control over their bodies. They have four fleshy tentacles but can fill air pockets located throughout their bodies in order to adjust to different shapes, including the humanoid shape they are most commonly seen in.

Another trait they have retained over millennia is a form of spiritualism that periodically gestated into esoteric cults, religious movements, and attempts at theocratic governance. Reneans believe that a race of Outsider Gods exists beyond conventional space and consider space and the universe to be something like a sacred vessel but subject to the needs of a higher reality that they acknowledge cannot be known or understood by creatures bound to the universe as they, and other sapient species, know it. Reneans are known for being curious and tolerant of other beliefs but are also famous for a tendency to circle everything they learn back to their own gods and mythos. 

The Reneans are extremely social and do not have separate communities. Their folklore indicates that their civilization has always been one with their shared beliefs allowing them an unprecedented degree of cooperation and social harmony. To this day, Reneans prize communications technologies beyond all others and are the leaders in this field.

Reneans face a challenge in acclimating to TENOR and other human-led organizations due to how they are structured and organized to include long departures from “home”. Reneans have special dispensation to furlough home for regular visits. At one time, Reneans who joined groups like TENOR were considered unusual as most Reneans prefer not to deal with things as individuals though they are cognitively individual and have a personal, subjective perspective. They simply feel better facing almost any situation with a few more Reneans close by, but they will settle for non-Reneans in a pinch. 

A fun fact about Reneans is that they are the premiere social organizers and party planners among the ALTO species. This is because they are far more adept at considering the needs of large numbers of sensitive, emotional beings than most other species which evolved to cooperate in smaller numbers and/or separate, often competitive communities.

Perhaps more than other members, being part of ALTO has changed Renean culture. It has become more individualistic and diasporic with younger Reneans often clamoring for a faster rate of adoption of outside customs and technology as well as greater enthusiasm for pursuing lives beyond their homeworld. Most Reneans consider these changes necessary adaptations to life in a much bigger pond. They are encouraged to look at it as an opportunity to grow their huge “family” and many are enthusiastic about including visitors and colonists in Renean communities. Reneans have little trouble forming close bonds with non-Reneans, at least from their perspective, and do not exclude other species. Some non-Reneans are more guarded and will meet Renean suggestions that they are “best buds” with skepticism.

Unfortunately, most non-Reneans find it difficult to adapt to the realities of the lives enjoyed by Reneans at home. One sticking point, for example, is privacy. Reneans are only selectively private. Their tendency to accommodate the emotional needs of others can lead some non-Reneans to feel attended to but always separate in spite of the Reneans’ best efforts to include them. For some, not being able to live like them more directly (as part of their collective community in all respects) is an insurmountable obstacle. Konigiri immigrants have had more success than any at adapting to settlement on the Renean homeworld, as they are able to live both in the wetlands and the drylands, and the two species have become close through ALTO membership. 

The Reneans are considered the most hospitable people in all of ALTO, perhaps in the entire galaxy, and a great many work in tourism and recreation across ALTO space. Tourism is their largest industry as they prefer their colonies to be similar to home and have a concept similar to coziness or Swedish “hugen” that is an organizing principle for community planning -- this means their cities are paradises of diversion, social opportunity, entertainment, hospitality, and relaxation compared to equivalent cities elsewhere. This is especially true of colonies and destinations specifically set up to accommodate non-Reneans. The average experience of a non-Renean tourist is that every special need they happen to have is already predicted and accounted for with both kindness and precision. Many non-Reneans in ALTO retire to Renean worlds.

[thesilversun]

Via open tag from @omgpurplefattie

If you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog

Although I don't work in it now, I have degree in Archaeology. My somewhat niche interest area? cereal crops - especially Rivet wheat - the one that sits between Spelt and modern bread wheats in what was commonly grown in UK and is all but forgotten.

2. The longest ferry journey I took was longer than all the times i've been on a plane added together. (20 hours on one ferry crossing versus 18 hours across 4 flights)

3. I once won first prize for Blackberry jam at the village show with berries I'd picked from hedgerows around the village. I was probably the youngest winner by several decades as i'd have been about 12 and just about all the other ladies taking part were retired.

Also leaving an open tag for whoever wants to do it

[kuwdora]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @deerna and @jawanaka !

How many works do you have on A03? 110 - but this would probably be +200 if I had been crossposting my fanvids there. I still remember when video embeds did not work on AO3 pages. But that was ages ago. And I’m terrible at crossposting. Especially when I have so many to crosspost at this point.

What's your total A03 word count? 280,783

What fandoms do you write for? In the past it was Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, Heroes and Sanctuary and a lovely romp with Being Human UK. Star Trek. These days I’m still on The Witcher, with the occasional fleeting non-witcher stuff I manage to finish.

What are your top five fics by kudos? I can see through you, The Witcher Netflix. My Geralt and Jaskier role reversal thing. More like a role inversion.

Surface Tension, The Witcher Netflix. soft very established relationship Geralt/Yen/Jaskier smut.

Papa’s Got a Brand New Suit, Star Trek: Deep Space 9. Julian/Garak PWP. From ye olde porn battle days. Learning Curve, The Witcher Netflix. Yen/Jaskier, post-season 2 soft feelings and sex with an emphasis on all of Yennefer's pain.

Heart Tap, The Witcher Netflix. Leshen Eskel(/Geralt). My first story about what it could be like for Eskel to live with his transformation into a monster. I'm actually surprised this is in my top 5 kudos considering how niche it is but man I love my tree boyfriend and have so many more thoughts about him that I haven't gotten out yet...

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I try to respond to comments when I can. Sometimes it takes forever and sometimes I do forget to respond to comments but man I love rolling around in them.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My angstiest endings are for fic that I haven’t finished or posted on AO3 yet for more of my witcher fixations. But for posted things?? Hmm. I do have an old Heroes fic called Code of Hammurabi that is Peter/Sylar time travel AU that’s particularly angsty and gave me the chance to rummage around in the way Peter would endure in a very very messy situation.

Oh, my Doctor Sleep ficlet is also pretty angsty. Danny reflecting on his time with Billy when Billy's ghost shows up. I'm smiling upside down is the name of that ficlet.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh that’s probably my smutty fluffy thing for Being Human. PWP. Moon Mambo, Hal/Tom.

Do you get hate on fics? No, but I sense that’s only a matter of time before someone directs their hate at me.

Do you write smut? Yup.

Do you write crossovers? Yes, but not for a very long time. I have a “Ciri collects all the young girl protagonists from sci-fi/fantasy books for a group project” crossover idea but my focus is too scattered to get that going. I did start it with a Nona-meets-Ciri Locked Tomb/witcher crossover here: Call to Adventure.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I think my stuff is far too niche and self-indulgent for that kind of thing but who knows. The internet is a smaller place these days but people seem to find new ways to steal. Alternatively: I did learn that someone submitted one of my Stargate SG-1 vids to a Creation Con fanvid contest that had prize money in it. That was very upsetting to learn well after the fact.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, not co-written. But I do love rolling around with my beta and workshopping my fic into better shape and a lot of my stuff ends up way better as a result of my betas. And I also love doing the same with folks who ask me for beta. It’s a fun kind of collaboration.

What's your all-time favourite ship? Agh this one is so hard. Don’t make me pick just one. Aeryn/John from Farscape. Fraser/Ray(s) from due South. I don’t write a lot of book Yennefer/Geralt but they also are It for me.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh my god, definitely my TWN Leshkel canonical divergence AU thing. I have something like a whole season 2 (not a fix-it) outlined, with lots of stuff focusing on Ciri and Leshy Eskel, and Leshy Eskel with Triss. With more stuff about witcher-and-leshen biology and Wolf School disappearing, Kaer Morhen becoming a magical greenhouse where a mythical Swallow is rumored to visit every 6 years.

What are your writing strengths? Description, maybe characterizations. Theme and tone.

What are your writing weaknesses? Too much description, comma splices. Slow pacing.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it’s fun to do but it can be a lot to read and I definitely will overthink the writing and both the reading. If it suits the characterization and context clues within the text, I think that’s cool. But I think it’s fine to go without con-lang or other languages in fic. It’s just a matter of texture and color that adds to the scene, you know?

First fandom you wrote for? Stargate SG-1.

Favourite fic you've ever written? Ever??? It’s so hard to pick just one. Hang on, I got several of those ‘rec 5 of your favorite fics’ asks in my inbox. Lemme see if I can pick 5 for that.

[the-golden-ghost]

For OCverse asks: 8, 12, 16, 25?

8.) what inspired your world building, if anything?

Okay so I KNOW this does exist, but I was just kinda thinking... why does so much fantasy either take place in Medieval England (Europe) Lite (but not even a very historically-accurate version of it) OR Just The Modern Day But There's Magic? Like there's SO many time periods I'd love to see covered in a fantasy-verse that are criminally underused. Even medieval-based ones are less Truly inspired by the middle ages and are more just direct ripoffs of Tolkien.

In any case, I picked the (19)20s although I've been debating whether it's really the right way to go. It's definitely going to be US-centric just cause... well, I'm from there. I thought for a ghost story too, the culture of the 20s where they're recovering from a world war and massive epidemic and still spiraling into even worse events to come would be kind of on the nose. I guess it hits home a bit with the modern day, too.

It's not intended to be a bleak story, though. Just a little dark.

12.) okay be honest. pick a favorite oc from this ocverse.

DIFFICULT it changes? I usually say Faith, she became the protagonist after being cast as the antagonist in the last variation for a reason - I just love her a lot.

But Davy grows on me sometimes. He's probably the closest one I have to a self-insert which means sometimes I don't especially like him because we're just too similar, but he's got Vibes. Occasionally he overthrows Faith in my brain for Favorite.

16.) imagine the entire story takes place but in the meantime the characters all also have tumblr. what kind of (terrible) tumblr posts would happen?

Faith is DESPERATELY trying to Do Numbers as a Tumblr Funnyman and it isn't working. Every carefully-crafted shitpost she makes gets 10 notes or less. She doesn't seem to realize that there's no prize for getting famous on here and it's in fact a hindrance.

Davy has a main blog but he doesn't post and gets reported as a bot a lot. He also has a sideblog he runs where he posts as Smudge and it has 50k followers

Lilah has a decent if somewhat niche following and does mostly music recs, songs she's working on, life advice, and aesthetic photos. She has a few fandom blogs as well and has to be careful not to post on main cause it'd be embrassing.

Sam is dead and posts glitchy illegible posts into the void. His blog cannot be followed, but the posts will show up on your dash anyway, somehow. None of them have visible notes.

25. best scene you havent yet written, but have an idea for?

Faith and Davy re(?)union at the beginning hell yeah! I have two separate ideas depending on whether to make them Childhood Friends (the standard) or strangers (new idea, playing around with it)