i'm-somewhere-in-here

Leaving.

I remember the day my sister suggested I’d make an ask blog as if it were yesterday.

She had already made her own ask blog earlier that day and her character inspired me to make @ask-red-robot-scout. I was already a huge fan of team fortress, but I’d never ran an ask blog before let alone use tumblr for anything.

it’s been an entire year since then and so much has happened. Many new people joined the fandom. A rainbow of teams now exist, monsters, aliens, ghosts and all kinds of mercenaries answer asks to this day. Asks were received on a daily basis. The community flourished and I saw so much creativity in such a short span of time.

I’ve never been more proud of people I’d never met before.

Of course we all know how this story ends; teams started dying off fast, members of the community left for a number of reasons, every last drop of inspiration was sucked dry from them. Very few blogs lasted more than a couple months.

I, however, wouldn’t give up. Spite, the need to please others, a friend’s encouragement and multiple promises kept me going, even when there were days of absolute silence, I refused to leave my blogs to die. I believed I was keeping the community alive but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Even then, I didn’t care, I had a valid reason to stay.

I’d made a ‘promise’ to be the last ONG standing, to make my followers happy, but now I know I can’t keep to my word. I’ve made so many promises in fact that I can’t possibly owe up to all of them. I’ve exhausted myself emotionally and physically time and time again trying to entertain everybody, I would skip meals and lose sleep making RP replies to the point where I would shake. When you guys told me to take a break, I felt stressed, like I was letting everybody down.

The point is, I’ve realized that I no longer have a reason to continue running this blog, it might even be beneficial to my health if I quit now. Whatever motivation I had for it before is long gone, I need to move on, for my own sake. I will always love the community and adore the game, and I’ll remember you all and never forget your kindness, your jokes, your silly asks and the interactions we’ve forced our poor muses to have with one another, but I think it’s time I go. I’m also sorry I have to drop our threads.

I wish you all the best,

auf wiedersehen.

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You can take my hand and I can take the lead.

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nitori aiichirou + his teammates

  • Me somewhere in the middle of a Leverage rant: Okay but can we talk about how Alec Hardison bought Eliot a brewpub because he knew Eliot would secretly love the challenge, and wanted to give Eliot a reason to stay with him and Parker beyond just their Robin Hood heists?

So I have started writing a fic about tea. Why? I don’t know, because my brain apparently wants me to be known as that person who writes SWTOR fanfic featuring food and beverages I guess. And as I try to describe the flavor of the tea (because if it’s going to be a feature you might as well be able to imagine the taste of the dang thing), I run up against a roadblock, namely, it’s really hard to describe spices (for you know, cooking) in the Star Wars universe without making everyone sound like a meth-head.

Whoever decided to make Spiceheads a thing in-universe had probably given all of the chefs and culinary world in general a giant headache:

“Tonight’s special is a lovely 5-spice roasted leg of gorak–”

“Just what kind of establishment do you think you’re running here?!”

“Sir, I–”

“I’m reporting you to the health inspector!”

“But it’s not–”

“And I’m giving you a two star rating on Galactic!Yelp!”

“Two stars?”

“Well, I did have a lovely Corellian vintage before I discovered I had walked into a Den of Iniquity…”

My husband once asked me why, when my period was late, I had to check every hour to see if it came. I had to wait several days before taking a pregnancy test anyway, so why did it consume me during that time? He didn’t mean to be rude; he genuinely didn’t understand and wanted to. I told him a story to illustrate.

Say you are stuck in some bunker. Maybe it’s wartime, maybe the zombie apocalypse is happening, who knows. Things are dangerous and you’re in a bunker. Every month, you have a friend come to you with supplies and news of the outside world. Occasionally he’s a little late, but only by a day, maybe two, but there is always the possibility that he won’t show up at all because he was eaten by zombies. It’s very important he survive, because without him, you will have to face the world of zombies. He gave you a machine that you can use to determine for sure if he’s dead, but it can be a little expensive and it might not even tell you until a week after he died and missed your appointment. It COULD tell you within a couple days, and then you would know for sure, but if not, you’ve wasted your machine. Every month that he is late, how often do you check your little windows in hope that you’ll see him strolling down the lane? Do you wait with your ears pricked for that knock on the door? How often do your eyes flicker to the machine, counting each hour as it becomes more likely you will have to use it?

This is what a pregnancy scare is like.

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Happy Mother’s Day