#//me using tumblr mobile to get this shit down before i forget? yes

[themirokai]

I did my at-least-annual tradition of making my family’s chicken soup recipe on Sunday, and I took process photos, so I thought I’d share. Here’s what I have written down but for all its vagueness it’s still not accurate.

I think every generation has modified some stuff about the process and tweaked it for their particular tastes.

Instead of using a whole chicken, I use a split chicken breast (2 halves) plus a pack of chicken thighs (4). I like this better because the ratio of meat to fiddly bits is better and Surfski likes CHICKEN soup (lots of chicken per bowl). You could easily use half a breast or one or two fewer thighs, but I think the mix of white and dark meat is important for flavor.

Next is something I added to the recipe after reading Salt Fat Acid Heat. I salt my raw chicken and let it sit out for at least half an hour before I put it in the water. I think this helps the chicken hold flavor through the cooking.

While the chicken is sitting (so a change from the order of the recipe) I chop a large sweet onion plus the carrots, celery, and parsnips. I think I used 5 skinny stalks of celery, 4 carrots and 5 parsnips, but especially given the size variability you’ve got to judge this based on vibes. How much of each vegetable does your heart tell you that you need in your soup? The one exception to this is if you are not familiar with parsnips and you are considering skimping on them or leaving them out. That is not your heart. That is the devil and you must resist. Trust me on this and use about as many parsnips as carrots.

The next step was added by my great aunt who was a genius in the kitchen (also very good at refurbishing antiques but that’s less relevant). You heat up some butter and olive oil and sautee your vegetables in it. Yes it makes another pan to clean but it’s completely worth it. You don’t cook it for long! Just until the carrots and celery get bright and the onion is just starting to get translucent and everything is a tiny bit soft.

Ok, set the veg aside but I highly recommend snacking on some of the parsnips at this point. Every time I make chicken soup it always makes me want to make roast parsnips and I always forget when I’m meal planning.

Next it’s chicken time! Load your chicken into a big heavy pot and cover it with water. I just barely cover it because I’m going to need room for lots of veg.

Put that on your biggest burner and boil it. It will take a while to come up to a good boil. Once it’s boiling it will start to foam. This stuff.

Ick. Skim that off and throw it away.

Now, when the foaming is done, turn down the heat and dump in your veg. Mix it all in there then put your bunch of dill on top. Make sure you take off the twist tie or anything else holding the dill together.

My mom added this next step which she got from a friend of hers. It’s this shit called Better Than Bouillon.

You can use the plain chicken variety. Roast chicken is just what my grocery store had. I’m not 100% sure what it is but it really does add gorgeous flavor to the soup. I put one big spoonful in a big pot. This is what it looks like out of the jar.

Now you let everything cook together until the chicken is cooked. How long will that take? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Depends on the size of your chicken pieces and how high you have the heat, etc. When you think it might be done, pull out your biggest piece of chicken and poke it. It should be white and firm. If it is, pull the rest of the chicken out too and turn the heat way down but leave the veg and the dill in to simmer.

Now you walk away. Go scroll tumblr. Read a chapter of a book. Draw something. But you gotta let the chicken cool down.

Why? Because you’re going to shred that with your fingers and you don’t want to burn your fingerprints off. Or maybe you do. I don’t know your life.

Anyway, this is a good spot for me to stop and hit post because I’m on mobile and I’ll run up against the 10 image limit.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this so far! The rest of the recipe and the end product will be in a reblog.

[toameliiorate]

story bit before I forget: Nythiel, Aubrey's favored hired guard/assassin/whatever he asks of her, has minimal loyalty to him or his father. She doesn't exactly like, or know fully what they're up to, but they pay well. She's been spoon-fed propaganda of Ettaun since she was a child (she's about a century or so older than Aubrey), and almost raised into the role as she attended a more tactical-training type academy.

She is 7'0 and buff and big Butch energy and I love her.

[frestoniia]

What kind of advice would you give to first-time rp'ers on tumblr?

▹ Okay so full disclosure, there are probably people way more qualified to give this sort of advice than I am. I'm really kinda just makin this shit up as I go tbh. For general RP etiquette, I'd recommend reading this post here, since it explains the most important things a lot better than I could.

That being said, a lot of these are gonna boil down to mostly a personal preference, but I still think they're a good rule of thumb for most people to keep in mind, especially newbies.

Accessibility over Aesthetics. Now, 'accessibility' means different things to different people, so I'm not gonna pretend that there's a one-size-fits-all solution to this conundrum. However, when setting up your blog, it's important that everything is easy to find and easy to read. I'm not saying you shouldn't use fancy graphics or small fonts-- trust me, I totally get wanting everything to look aesthetically pleasing. But it's an rp blog, not a scavenger hunt. I find that having a mobile-friendly alternative to your important pages is a good compromise in this regard.

Try to make your rules clear and concise. By all means, elaborate on your rules as much as you need to. However, in my experience, people rarely read through the entirety of someone's rules page the first time, especially if it's super lengthy. I'm not saying long rules pages are bad, but I do think that being brief, yet comprehensive is a good way to ensure no important points are glossed over.

Try to have your pages set up before you start following people. This is really more of a personal preference, I think. Before I decide to follow a blog, I always make sure to read their pages (whether they're an oc or a canon character). But if there are no pages for me to read, not only will I not follow, but I'm definitely not gonna remember to go back and check again later. I'm not saying everything has to be 100% finished, but having the general information available from the get-go would be ideal.

Don't be pushy. I understand it can be disheartening when people won't follow you back, or don't show as much enthusiasm as you do. Trust me, I get it. And I know it's a lot easier to say 'just don't take it personally' than it is to actually not take it personally. But you won't be doing yourself any favors by pestering people or getting on their case about it. Don't unfollow and then re-follow to try and get their attention (admittedly I've done this in the past, but those were all accidents. My memory is just Bad and I sometimes forget whether or not I've already followed someone whoops), and accept that not everyone is going to want to write with you. Nor are you obligated to write with anyone you don't want to.

Don't be afraid to unfollow/block people. For any reason. Personally, I soft-block whenever I want to actually unfollow a mutual (blocking and then quickly un-blocking them so they're no longer following my blog), that way they know it was intentional. Goodness knows I've accidentally unfollowed people when I didn't mean to, thanks to tumblr's shitty layout. But yeah, you're allowed to block and/or unfollow people, and you don't owe anyone an explanation. Yes, it sucks when it happens to you, and it can leave you wondering what you did wrong. But the sooner you remember that we're all losers writing on the internet for fun and none of this shit actually matters, the happier you will be.

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Hello, hello! This week, we are going on a little:

Home Tour!

Notes: Answer the following with pictures (dialogue from your characters is optional!). Collages are highly encouraged if you want to answer a question with multiple pictures because tumblr mobile only allows 10 total pics. Otherwise, tumblr on a desktop lets you add multiple pictures (non-beta)!

For both:

What does the outside of the home look like? (Front/back yard, garden, pool, etc)

Living room and home office (if any)?

Kitchen and dining room?

Bedrooms? (Master, guest, others)

Other rooms?

Do you own your dream home? If not, what does that dream home look like?

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Super super late to this, because of my stupid exam but now we are here so let's go! 💃🏽🏠

A/N : I am placing this two years and seven months after the wedding, because I HC Ethan and Meera staying at Ethan's apartment for two years after the wedding and they only start house hunting when they have the baby talk and start trying for a baby. So technically not newlyweds anymore. Now let's get started! ✨

Meera opens the door and greets Bree.

Meera : Hii Bree, welcome to our humble abode.

Bree (chuckles) : This place is anything but humble. I hope I am not causing much trouble.

Meera : Absolutely not. Who else is going to make me feel like a youtuber?

Both laugh, Ethan joins and greets Bree.

Bree : Congratulations on the good news Dr. Ramsey. How far are y'all?

Ethan : Thank you Bree. It's been 3 months already.

Meera (cradling her small bump) : Yup one trimester down two more to go.

Ethan (kissing her forehead) : And then there will be a mini version of you running around these halls.

Meera : Nope it's gonna be a mini you.

The couple shares a look as if challenging each other.

Meera : Fine, Bree, whose team are you on? Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?

Bree : I am happy with either because at the end I'll be interviewing him or her too.

The three of them share a laugh.

Bree : Let's get started, shall we?

Ethan : Sure.

What does the outside of the home look like? (Front/back yard, garden, pool, etc)

Front :

Meera : We were looking for something modern yet chic, something that is totally us. I fell in love with the design whereas Ethan was in total awe of the open space and glass doors. Needless to say our heart was stuck on this no matter how many more houses we visited.

Backyard :

Ethan : The backyard also doubles up as the garden but it's not quite completed yet.

Meera : Yes it's been two months since we moved, and we haven't been able to work on the garden because of work and the pregnancy. Ethan : But we want to build a garden with a tree house and maybe some swings.

Meera (too excited) : Ohh swings! Yes please add it onto the list. Why didn't I think of it before?

Pool :

Meera : Definitely my favorite part!

Ethan : She is a water baby through and through so that's no surprise.

Meera : Don't act like you don't appreciate me in a swimsuit, Ramsey (winks)

Ethan : There is no denying that.

Living room and home office (if any)?

Living room :

Ethan : Meera was hell bent on having an L-shaped couch.

Meera : Those things are so bougie I had to have one because now I can finally afford one. But yeah the living room is so relaxing with a beautiful view of the outside.

Home office :

Meera : Honestly speaking, I do not understand the utility of a home office, I didn't understand back at his apartment neither do I understand now. If I am supposed to work from home I can do that on the couch or on my bed or even better on the daybeds by the pool.

Ethan (shaking his head) : You'll get it darling. When you start your maternity leave I'll see how you make zoom calls with the pool as your background.

Meera shrugs.

Kitchen and dining room?

Meera : This part was all Ethan so I'll let him do the talking.

Ethan (proudly) : A Poggenpohl kitchen with a granite-topped island adds an ultramodern touch. Glass shelves display colorful glassware convenient to the wet bar. A translucent sliding glass door below the shelves hides the more utilitarian gadgets. And finally playful mod pendant lights seem to levitate over the dining table, which is meant to resemble a river running through the woods.

Meera : You sure you didn't miss your true calling as an interior designer babe?

Ethan (smirks) : Nope, just the fact that I tend to excel at everything I do, Rookie.

Meera : And that makes you 10 times hotter!

Bedrooms? (Master, guest, others)

Master bedroom :

Meera : The bedroom has a different color scheme and tone from the rest of the house because I wanted it to stand out and break the monotone.

Ethan : Again the chandelier was Meera's opinion.

Meera : Finding common ground between his minimalistic taste and mine was difficult but we made it through.

Master Bathroom :

Ethan : Meera I don't think it was necessary to bring Bree in here.

Meera : It was absolutely necessary! Just look at this tub Bree! The bubbles and champagne dates we have here are a total hit.

Guest rooms :

Ethan : We have two guest rooms and both are styled the same way, but unfortunately we haven't had any guests yet. 

Meera : Is it unfortunate Dr. Ramsey? Bryce is just a call away from crashing here. 

Ethan (pinching the bridge of his nose) : Anyone but Lahela.

Meera : We haven't thought about the baby's room yet. But we have the nursery now. 

Ethan : Yes, maybe we'll turn the nursery into a bedroom or one of the guest rooms in a few years. Let's see.

Nursery : 

Meera : This was completed just yesterday hence the delay in the interview, Bree. 

Ethan : We decided to keep the gender of the baby a surprise so we went with a gender neutral nursery that matches the colour scheme of the house. 

Meera : Also because Ethan Ramsey would rather die than paint the walls of his house pink and blue. 

Ethan (rolls eyes) 

Other rooms?

Home library :

Meera (takes in the smell of books) : Better known as my safe haven. 

Ethan : This was absolutely non-negotiable for Meera. 

Meera : We both own a lot of books and the collection keeps on increasing now with the baby incoming. And look at this reading space. It's from my dreams. 

Ethan : This is tucked away in a far corner of the house and is the most serene place around here. Once, I returned home from the hospital and called out to Meera a hundred times, she didn't answer, I started panicking and then found her silently sitting here in her own world. 

Meera : If I ever go missing please check here before running to the police, because once I am in here I forget the existence of the world.

Bree picks up "Peppa pig's super noisy Sound Book" which was kept on a thick medical journal with a smile. 

Ethan feels embarrassed but Meera laughs. 

Meera : Yes these are the new ones in our collection. Ethan was reading it to the baby before you arrived. 

Home Bar : 

Ethan : The wine cellar grew into a home mini bar because we had this unused space left. 

Meera : He loves showing this and his collection off. 

Ethan : Excuse me! If I remember correctly your friends were very impressed as well. 

Meera : True that. Bryce went bat shit crazy during the housewarming party. He said he felt he got back his bartending days.

Ethan (proudly) : And Jackie's exact words for that evening's toast was "to hell with Donahue's" 

Meera : Yeah yeah, you did a great job honey. Also the more surfaces the better for us. 

Ethan : Keep it PG for the love of God. 

Meera (shrugs) : Pregnancy hormones. 

Bree (points) : And that? 

Ethan (facepalms) : The only thing that doesn't match with the vibe here.

Meera : Nonsense! It was a housewarming gift from my friends and I absolutely love it. Ethan just feels it is a cheaper and juvenile version of his favourite game, soccer. But don't worry Bree, I'll get him to play someday. 

Ethan (smirk) : I would very much like to see you try Dr. Ramsey-Bose.

Meera : And I'll see how you say no when your son asks. 

Ethan : It's gonna be a daughter. 

Meera : We'll see. 

Do you own your dream home? If not, what does that dream home look like?

Ethan : For the majority of my life home for me was a structure of bricks and cement with a ceiling but Meera was the one who brought all the love and light and showed me what a real home felt like. So for me, my home is where my heart is and for this lifetime it's kept safe with this gorgeous woman whom I fortunately call my wife. 

Silence lasts for a couple of minutes then Meera snorts. 

Meera (drying her eye) : Damn you pregnancy hormones, I am not even wearing waterproof mascara. It was super cheesy Ethan, a non pregnant me would have definitely called you out on your cheese but this pregnant Meera has to agree with you. Even a stable is my dream home if I have my dream husband with me. (she kisses Ethan) but I wouldn't mind a Jacuzzi, a home theatre, a game room (laughing)

Ethan (an easy smile on his face) : Always knew you were in it because of the money Bose. 

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Meera : The library. Just him reading to our unborn child like he isn't already the most perfect man in the world. 

Ethan (a very satisfied smile on his face) : First I am very surprised that you kept it PG. So the obvious answer is the bedroom but other than that, the patio, which is not a room though.

Ethan : Meera has a slight deficiency in vitamin D so to avoid complications, we spend a lot of time here in the sun. We play board games, read and even discuss work here sometimes.  

Meera : Ooh yes! This was another great investment and a great way to utilise the humongous outdoor space we have.  

Ethan : I hope you had fun Bree. Thank you so much for doing this. 

A quick shoutout to @a-crepusculo and @jamespotterthefirst who came to my rescue when  I couldn't add more than 10 pics. Also thank you Bree for doing this you are a star and an angel. 💜

Tagging my usual : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd  @shanzay44 @little-flowers-on-heaven @schnitzelbutterfingers  @coffeeheartaddict  @gryffindordaughterofathena @chemist-ana @adiehardfan @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @natureblooms24 @mainstreetreader @izzyourresidentlawyer @a-crepusculo @quixoticdreamer16 @starryeyedrookie @barbean

+ @openheartfanfics

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. And if you want to sit out only the answers to the ask games hit me up too. There won't be any hard feelings. I promise. 💜

[romioneficfest]

Put a sickle in the swear jar

Title: Put a Sickle in the Swear Jar Prompt/Day: Day 11- St Mungo’s Tumblr name:  Rating: PG Brief summary: Ron is having one of those days… (bit of a post-Hogwarts domestic day in the life) Any possible triggering/warning tags: one bad swear, blood, allusions to Ron and Hermione doing it.

Ron let their dog Chudley into the back garden, then collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. The shop had been unaccountably busy for a Thursday, and almost half their staff were out sick with Fwooper Flu, including George. He had a few investor meetings, a Ministry contractor for their Defense products, and had to simultaneously man the floor of their flagship shop so it wouldn’t be a complete disaster when his meetings convened.

As it always was when a shop was lean staffed, his work shift produced the worst customers in the world. Each was ‘talk to the manager’ types: high maintenance and generally unpleasant.

The very worst was a dad who had let his terror of a four-year-old go wild through the shop. He started his visit by setting off five decoy detonators in the potions aisle, then poured love potion into the pygmy puff enclosure, and ended it by licking the outside of the glass case full of sweets.

The kid’s dad had a ‘never tell your child the word no’ policy in place. He made quite a stink when Ron dared to use the dreaded word to his child when the blighter sprinted around the shop and nearly toppled a full display case of fart sprays. Ron was only lucky they had left the shop by the time his meetings started.

He had to do his meetings on the sales floor, but it gave him a chance to show off a new prototype. He set the Secrecy Spellorator down and it created a field about two meters wide where no one could hear them ‘plan mischief.’ It even turned the volume down to noises outside the field ‘so as not to distract you from your pranking plans.’ Ron explained its alternative uses for Defensive magic and overcrowded offices, and given the way their eyes lit up, Ron could tell the pitch had gone well.

Now all he wanted was some beer or a long nap, neither of which he had proper time for. He needed to pick Hugo up from school and figure out something for dinner. He languidly pulled his arm up to catch the time. Ugh, five minutes more and he might be late.

He slumped up the steps, changed from business robes into his much preferred Muggle clothes, and let the dog back in, before Apparating a few streets away from Hugo’s school. When he arrived, a few of the mothers were gathered and chatting about an upcoming event.

Maybe if he looked busy they wouldn’t try to rope him in… He fished in his pocket for his sporadically used mobile, but realized he’d forgotten it at home.

In moments he was surrounded.

��Ron! We were just talking about you! Weren’t we, Claire?”

“Yes!” she answered with an enthusiastic clap of her hands. Whenever they were talking about him it usually meant manual labour was needed. “We’re doing a school fundraiser the fifteenth and could use your help setting things up. Also, could you bring your bakewell buns? We’ve all been simply craving them since last year!”

His brain went horribly blank of excuses, but he was saved from having to answer by his son.

“Dad!” Hugo cried from across the schoolyard, a giant grin splitting his freckled face. Ron waved at him but blanched when Hugo started running. His overly large backpack wildly swang from one hand, while his puffy jacket flailed like a flag caught in the wind from his other. Ron could see disaster looming.

“Don’t run, Hugh!” Ron hollered. As if time had slowed he watched in horror as the strap of Hugo’s backpack caught his foot, sending the seven-year-old flailing. Normally Ron could have prevented a painful crash with his wand, but with all the mums about him he couldn’t pull his wand out in time.

Hugo face-planted straight into the ground, his giant thud pulling a chorus of high-pitched gasps from the mothers.

Ron sprinted to his son who was whimpering and not moving.

“Shhh now, you’re okay, little man,” Ron said, trying his best to sound calm as he removed the backpack from around Hugo’s ankle and turned him over.

“Oh shit!” Ron let out. His son’s large brown eyes filled with tears, and his mouth overflowed with blood. His chin looked to be split open as well. “Merlin! Er, okay, Hugh, we’re gonna get you to a healer, but I need to carry you ‘round the corner so the Muggle mums don’t see us Apparate, okay?”

“You- you g-gotsta put a sssickle in the sssswear jar,” Hugo managed to lisp, before breaking into a wail as he saw the blood hit the ground.

Ron scooped up his son, somehow managing to hold the backpack and jacket as well.

The mums all had a variety of questions as he tore down the street, but he simply yelled over his shoulder that his car was round the corner. Checking about him, he Apparated them to St Mungo’s waiting room.

He vaguely recognized the lady behind the check-in desk. Her glare jogged his memory. He might’ve yelled at her a year or two prior…

“My- my son. He fell, and —”

Her glare softened after noticing Hugo’s cries and the blood soaking through Ron’s jacket. Cleared of blood by the healers Ron was infinitely grateful to not be Muggle. Chipped teeth, split lip and lacerated chin… The kid was a mess! Hugo was healed in just a few minutes, leaving him with only a small plaster for his chin he’d need with a topical ‘scar-begone’ potion for a few days.

“Do you have any plasters with brooms on them?” Hugo asked, feet kicking against the exam table.

The healer shook their head.

“Trains?”

“Just beige, I’m afraid,” the healer said with an apologetic smile.

“Dragons?”

“Hugo, we have some at home,” Ron said, knowing Hugo would continue to name things if he wasn’t stopped. “Plus we have some ice cream with your name on it!”

Hugo let out a cheer. They took the Floo home, as Ron was far too tired and rattled to be Apparating with his son.

Ron and Hugo were working on their second helpings of ice cream when Hermione arrived home via Floo.

“Hello boys,” she said, before stopping in her tracks. “Ice cream? Ron, it’s not even five-thirty!”

“We deserve it, believe me.”

“We deserve it, Mum!” Hugo repeated, with a chocolate smeared grin. “Believe me!”

Ron told her about the day they’d each had, and Hugo was happy to inform her how ‘Dad hadn’t put his sickle in the swear jar yet.’ He also was in dire need of a better plaster for his chin.

By the end of the tale she had a cautiously amused look on her face, and went to get their boxes of plasters.

“Okay, Hugo, looks like we have trains or dragons.”

“Both!”

“Choose one.”

“But Mum, I deseeeerve it, believe me!” Hugo said, a pleading look on his face.

She and Ron traded smiles over his curly head.

“Just today, because you were so brave at the hospital.”

“Gryffindor!” Hugo declared, before running after the dog, two plasters on his chin.

“How are you after all those adventures?” she asked, cuddling into Ron’s side.

“Better now that you’re home,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “You okay with ice cream for dinner?”

“Not my first choice, but I’ll manage.” She smiled at him. “Ginny should have Rose back from Quidditch practice soon.”

“Can I feed her ice cream too?” he moaned, closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to. She’s eating with Ginny and the kids.”

“Thank Merlin, because I feel like I’ve been pulled through a keyhole backwards.”

“Oh, I guess that means we can’t…” Hugo ran by and Hermione stopped herself. “Can’t ‘you know,’ tonight.”

“Can’t… Oh right! That!”

He felt a bit chagrined that they had to schedule it ahead, but the past few weeks hadn’t allowed for much spontaneity.

“Honestly…” he sighed, before looking sideways at his beautiful wife and slowly smiling. “I’ll manage.”

“We deserve it,” she grinned.

“It’ll be boring and passionless,” he teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her neck, lingering a bit too long.

She shivered in pleasure. “Of course.”

“You won’t even have to put a silencing spell up,” he said before kissing her more deeply. “Over in five minutes.”

“I’ll prepare myself for the disappointment,” she purred. “Twice.”

“Twice?” he asked with a disbelieving look. She stared at him quite seriously before she broke and began laughing.

“Can you imagine?” she giggled.

“After the day I had?”

“On a school night?”

“Twice?!” they repeated, laughing and snorting,

There came a great crash from the other room. Hugo shouted ‘I’m ok!’ while Chudley barked. Ron began to get up, but Hermione pulled him back down to the couch.

“Don’t forget to put a sickle in the swear jar,” she said as she rose, going to check on their chaotic son.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

H2o au, give me strength.

Aka guesswho just figured out how to do read mores in mobile and now tumblr is forever stuck with me rambling merfolk thoughts at 1am isnstead of my poor discord server

Tl;dr: why did they feed the Destroyer humans. Or, you know, just why did they feed the Destroyer. Period. I'm never letting this one go. If it's not a plot hole then the Eridians are so totally not-dead and so totally fucking with us for science.

Also let us team up with the Guardians to take down the Eridians instead of making both of us fight. We're in the same boat here. Let's team up.

I mean, okay, H2o au is slowly being enveloped into canon with every new content drop anyway, so...

Soon.

I guess.

So I am finally. Finally. Done with chappie 5.lovely shit. Means I finally get to work on the. Beyond. Which is just anything past the introductory phase of the black ops squad.

I know chapter 6 will be explaining Barnabas's role in the gang and also bringing Zane into the Black Ops squad that was abandoned by Dahl. And finally getting off Pandora. That's a big one. But after that I want to lead into the Obsidian Black (part 1) and Junpai-7 (with the Pandoran interlude between). But I also want to do the Venus Ambassador arc before both of those, just to solidify everyone as a team. Because it's a good story Brent.

The pronlem: my dumbshit idiot brain is like "OK. Good. But. Consider: Tannis."

Because Tannis is my life of course, I love that crazy binch. So instead of doing literally any of the stuff I need to do to get to rewriting Bl3 and beyond. My brain is: fumk it. You're gonna write beyond Bl3. The Eridian war. Team up the guardians"

Because I'm still kinda salty that the Guardians are just basic bitch mad at humanity. Instead of making the Eridians a parallel to the corporations in universe, and having the Guardians and humanity team up to take them down (which could enforce the whole 'don't get mad at the people the higher ups tell u to be mad at' dealio with corporations and all that. COMMENTARY!). like imagine. Humanity has these corporations. They test on their people. Humanity is a shit show. And then it is revealed that the Eridians are actually testing on humanity. Where is your God now, bitch.

So anyway. I've just been vibing with the Driver and Tannis for a bit. I wanna bring her to Sanc-III but I get the feeling Zane and Moze would both be VERY against that. Plus I don't even think she'd want to leave Junpai-7 since the planet is her testing zone. Her place of power. She's its unseen ruler at this point. Packing up and booking would probably have horrible consequences.

Context: the Driver was tasked with experimenting with new (or alternative) types of Guardians (like a handful of other smart Guardians across the universe were also tasked with). The Overseer tests those new types of Guardians, or pre-existing Guardians, to ensure they're up to the task. The Watcher was supposed to guard Eleseer and the Vault of the Sentinel and look for potential threats, then send the Guardians out to stop them.

I don't know how Scourge fits into this line, but I imagine he is some sort of strict rule follower who got way into his own head and defected from the others.

I mean, not to say the others haven't also corrupted from their thousands of years being stuck in the same mindless job over and over. But Scourge definitely went off the deep end with no new rules to adhere to, since the Eridians abandoned them (again! Think of the parallels, Gearbox! Eridians -> DAHL in BL1!!!). The Overseer is... On the edge, I think. She's definitely trying to escape the job she's stuck in. I think the Watcher is the most stable out of all of them, probably because she has the most 'free reign'.

The Driver is... Bored. Extremely bored. She began testing her limits, playing god with the people of Junpai-7. Using her experiments as her avatars when she could just to see, to get some form of interaction with the world around her. She sort of became like the Eridians in that sense, just on a smaller scale. Also, she'd been micromanaging the planet for so long she figured she had every variable in-check, but she didn't, and now she's obsessed with getting information regarding the things she can't control (friggen humanity).

I think if any one of the Guardians resembles the Eridians the most in this AU, it's her. And when she teams up with the gang to go against the council, they'll probably use that against her.

The difference is she was physically trapped doing her job for thousands of years due to her programming (thanks Eridians). The Eridians chose to do all of this and nobody forced them into this position. They just wanted to see what would happen. This is all an experiment for them to watch >:(. Mayhaps even entertainment.

I will say it 1 billion times: I do NOT trust the Eridians. No sir. Not after Nyriad talked about the Destroyer. Plot holes be damned, that set my alarm bells off so god damn fast. "we had to feed it. We had to feed it humans, specifically. Even though its hunger is endless and feeding it changes literally nothing. And if not feeding it would kill it, that'd be good because we want it dead. But no, let's fed it. Humans. The people we are now asking for help. Yes. Those humans. Even though there are hundreds of other life forms. And also plants. And if it's hunger is endless maybe it will eat rocks, too. All this sand everywhere. But no. Let's just feed it humans."

BULLSHIT. THEY'RE UP TO SOMETHING THOSE DAMN ERIDIANS.

I don't trust like that.

And all the humans depicted in statues and murals everywhere in Vaults that haven't been opened/explored since the Eridians vanished????? Nah. And THE FORGETTING that's completely brushed over??? Nah nah nah. I'M GOOD. these alien binches are so totally up to something.

I don't trust them at fucking all.

Even the Overseer hints at them not actually being fully gone.

So anyway.

H2o au is a way for me to have fun while fixing/rewriting lore and making more lore and also having merfolk in borderlands because. I need it ❤️. I also use it to answer lore questions I have and fix disappointing plot hooks. And it is being unintentionally (I fu king hope) incorporated into canon every time a new dlc drops and they reference something I've written about before.

Is weird.

Kthxbye.

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 7

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 5,009 for this chapter (30,147 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

quick question are you home

I am! Not for long tho. What's up?

Dan swears under his breath and hits the call button on his mobile, looking out the window so he doesn't have to feel the Uber driver's judgemental eyes on him.

"Hey!" Phil answers, bright and happy and god Dan is glad he's doing this.

"Hi," says Dan. He can't help the warmth in his own voice, the barely-suppressed enthusiasm at simply hearing Phil for the second time today. "Sorry I went radio silent for like an hour. I was actually on a plane."

There's a sound like a cupboard door closing, followed by the telltale pouring of either cereal or dog food. With Phil, it really could go either way.

"On a plane?" Phil asks. "Thought you were staying another night."

"I was supposed to," says Dan. His heart is pounding. He is only ten minutes from Phil's front door, if Phil wants him.

"Are you doing a bunk?" Phil laughs, the sound of it warming Dan from his ears to his toes. "Where did you go? Surely saying my name on the radio wasn't so awful that you had to flee the country?"

"It was," says Dan, barking a laugh of his own. "But, no, I'm... back in London. I'm practically round the corner, actually, if you wanna... grab dinner? Or something?"

What feels like an entire minute of silence follows Dan's awkward suggestion, but it's probably more like five seconds. It's enough time for his palms to start sweating, in any case. He's about to laugh and say 'gotcha!' and act like this was all a grand joke before going to a hotel to cry, when Phil responds.

"Oh, Dan," he says, apologetic, and Dan wonders how much he'd have to tip his Uber driver to plunge them both into the Thames.

"Sorry, it's stupid," says Dan. "I wasn't even -"

Phil interrupts him. "It's not stupid, don't be an idiot, I want to see you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," says Phil, "but I have dinner plans with my family. Mum and dad are flying out of Heathrow tomorrow for holiday and wanted to see us before they leave."

"Oh," Dan says again. He doesn't really see why that's an issue. Sure, they won't be able to Talk with a capital T or anything, but he still wants to see Phil so badly that it's going to give him a stomach ache. "Well, I can - I mean, if that's not too weird for you or whatever, I'd - if you want -"

"Are you going to finish one of those sentences?"

"Fuck off." Dan takes a deep, steadying breath. "What I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind meeting your family. Or I could just hang out with Thor until you get back, or whatever."

Another beat of silence, this one longer. Finally, Phil says, "You want to meet my family?", in such a skeptical tone of voice that Dan is offended despite not, in fact, being certain about it at all.

"Well, shit, I don't have to," says Dan, miffed. "You met mine, though."

"I met your coworkers, Dan."

"Yeah, and they're practically my family."

"This is literally my family," says Phil. He exhales, sounding for all the world like he's pinching his nose between his finger and thumb like an overdramatic librarian. "Dan, are you going to be a fucking brat if I say no?"

"Not if you don't really want me there," Dan mumbles. He's a little taken aback by how okay he is with Phil calling him a fucking brat. It hits him right on an edge of shame that could tumble way too easily into arousal if he were to let it.

Phil sighs again. "No, that's not it. I want you there. You wanna drop your stuff off at my place?"

"Yeah," Dan says sheepishly. "I'm almost there, just coming from the airport."

When Dan pulls up to the kerb outside the familiar row of narrow buildings, he sees Phil waiting for him with this resigned, amused sort of smile and his hands in his pockets. He's wearing a plaid shirt and a denim jacket with ripped jeans, looking for all the world like he's stepped out of a 90s grunge band.

He comes over to help Dan with his bags, laughing a bit. "You really came right here, huh? Hi."

"Told you I did," says Dan. On impulse, he wraps an arm around Phil's shoulders in a half-hug. He can smell Phil's cologne so strongly where his nose presses against Phil's neck, and it makes his head spin a bit. "Hi yourself."

It takes all of Dan's self control not to just kiss Phil here on the pavement in front of god and everyone, drag him downstairs by the lapels and make him forget everything that isn't Dan's name. It's very, very tempting, but Dan knows how much Phil loves his parents, how little they get to see each other, so. He pulls away from the hug without doing anything stupid and meets Phil's eyes with a little smile.

"Jaime and Patrick still in Dublin?" Phil asks, leading the way into his home and down the stairs.

The fact that his back is to Dan helps the ease of answering. "Yeah. I came back early because," he says, then pauses. "I missed London."

Phil grins over his shoulder as he gets the flat's door open. "London missed you."

Dan smiles back, wide and open. He's got no reason to hold back now. They don't have time to talk before they leave - Dan doesn't think he'll be able to go anywhere once he's allowed to put his hands on Phil - but that doesn't mean Dan can't already be obvious about why he's here.

The apartment is dimly lit tonight, all the candles blown out in anticipation of Phil leaving for a couple of hours and only a string of fairy lights and one lamp turned on.

Dan's luggage gets dropped unceremoniously in the entry, because both of them are suddenly busy with a very excited dog zooming around their ankles and threatening to trip them up. Dan laughs and sinks to the floor, letting Thor jump up on him and lick his face. He ends up flat on his back, again, giggling helplessly while Thor wiggles around on his chest.

"Why do you rile him up?" Phil asks, doing a very admirable job of sounding exasperated. His soft expression tells Dan how he's really feeling.

"He's cute," says Dan. He noses at one of Thor's ears. "And soft. And I like him."

"Seems like he feels the same way about you," says Phil.

"We're best friends, aren't we, Thor?" Dan coos, sitting up enough to shift Thor's weight to his lap. It's easier to give him pats like this. "Yes we are! We are! You're the cutest dog in the world!"

"That's true," says Phil. He crouches down beside them and scratches behind Thor's ear. His eyes meet Dan's, and they both smile.

This is exactly the kind of domestic fantasy Dan has decided to embrace. He holds himself back from leaning in for a kiss, but only because he knows they have places to be. It's nice to know that if he did lean forward, Phil would let him. He likes that calm certainty.

"Are we going somewhere nice?" Dan thinks to ask. "Should I change?"

"Nowhere fancy," says Phil. He reaches out and tugs at one of Dan's hoodie strings. "But maybe a different top layer, there."

"I don't want to dig through my shit," Dan says, totally aware of how obvious he's being. Whatever, Phil was worse about stealing his sweatpants. "Have you got something I could borrow?"

Phil rolls his eyes like he sees right through Dan and tugs at the other string, just to be a dick. "Yeah, alright, borrow. Sure. So if I can't find it next week, that's a coincidence?"

"I'm not responsible for you losing shit, mate."

"Fuck off," Phil says warmly. He stands up, wincing as his knees make a funny crick of a noise. "I'll be right back, but then we're leaving, okay? I don't want to be late. Get your puppy cuddles in now."

Dan grins down at Thor and gives him softer pats with both hands, trying to calm him down a bit. His fluffy fur is so soft and his ears are perked up so happily that Dan might actually start crying. He loves dogs, generally, and he loves this dog, specifically.

Kind of like how he likes London, generally, and this apartment, specifically. How he's into guys, generally. Phil, specifically.

Thor does calm down fairly easily once Dan stops matching his high energy. He rests his chin on Dan's thigh, half on Dan's lap and half on the floor, and just hangs out there until Phil comes back from the bedroom area of his flat. He's holding another denim jacket, something Dan doesn't even own but apparently Phil has several of.

"It's just from Topman," Phil says, grinning down at Dan and Thor. "But it's the only black jacket I've got that isn't, like, a blazer. Would you prefer a blazer?"

Dan snorts. "Absolutely not."

It hurts him a bit to dislodge Thor and stand up, but Thor happily trots back to his bed and starts gnawing on one of his toys. Phil grins wider and hands over the jacket, which isn't even black. It's a dark grey, distressed, and the collar is fuzzy. Dan is going to steal this for sure.

Dan tugs his hoodie off over his head and tosses it at Phil. He laughs at the affronted look on Phil's face.

"I'm not your butler," Phil says. He hangs the hoodie up next to Thor's leash, anyway. Dan likes the look of it there. "Are you ready? I'll get a car."

The jacket fits Dan well enough. When he glances at himself in the mirror by the door, he decides that he likes the way it looks on him, too. It doesn't smell like Phil, just some generic detergent, but Dan still likes it anyway. Besides, his Yeezy t-shirt still has the faint scent of Phil clinging desperately to it. Dan wonders what it would be like to live in a world where all his clothes smelled like Phil in some capacity.

"Yeah," he says, still looking at the easy way he fits in this jacket, this flat. "I'm ready."

--

"Did you warn your family that I'm coming?" Dan asks, coming to a sudden stop before they reach the door of the restaurant and taking Phil's wrist so he stops, too. If he's going to be a surprise tagalong, he ought to know.

Phil blinks, then smiles. "I texted them, yeah."

"And they're, like," says Dan, chewing on his lower lip, "okay with it?"

A quick, reassuring squeeze of Dan's hand before Phil pulls his own hand back. Dan imagines that he is all too aware that they're out on the pavement on a rather busy street. He likes to think that Phil would hold his hand properly if they were somewhere more private and comfortable.

"They're okay with it," Phil assures him. "You'll probably hate how okay with it they are once they start interrogating you."

"They're gonna interrogate me?"

"Probably, I don't really know." Phil stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks away from Dan, into the window of the restaurant. "I've never brought someone to meet them before."

Dan's heart skips a beat. Phil is so carefully not looking at him, his profile lit by the evening sun and streetlights, and Dan can't remember him ever needing to break eye contact to say something. Phil has been the calm, confident one since they met.

Maybe this means something to Phil that Dan hadn't considered. He swallows hard. "Hey. If this is - weird, or whatever, I don't need to be here."

"It's not weird to me," says Phil. "I'm happy to bring you, I just really didn't expect it from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dan asks.

Inviting himself to a family dinner just so he could spend more time with Phil was a bit cheeky of him, sure, but Dan doesn't know what the issue is, if Phil doesn't think it's weird.

Phil laughs softly, his eyes flickering back to Dan just for a moment. "You just keep... surprising me. You want me to tag you on Instagram, you want me to hang out with your friends, you want to meet my family. It's just not what I expected, I guess, since I know you're not, like, out."

"I - what?" Dan bleats, his blood rushing to his ears and making it harder to hear the surrounding din of London.

"It's fine," says Phil, misinterpreting the question. "I don't mind taking things slow, but we've been on, like, three and a half dates and you haven't kissed me, but you wanted to come tonight. You can see where I got surprised."

As soon as the initial shock settles, it hits Dan all at once: Phil thinks they've been dating this entire time. He thinks Dan wants to meet his parents as someone who he's been casually seeing, not as a friend who's been gathering the courage to push himself into something less platonic.

Dan has to bite back some hysterical laughter. Phil probably thinks he's the most frigid guy in the fucking world.

He's glad that Phil isn't looking at him, doesn't have to see the shellshocked confusion and inappropriate amusement that he knows is being broadcast across his face.

"Three and a half?" Dan repeats. His voice sounds far too high to his own ears.

"I don't really count drinking with your coworkers as a date," Phil laughs. He turns back to Dan, and Dan uses every ounce of his training to bring his expression back to something less telling. "No need to look so worried. My family's nice."

Dan is sure they are. He considers fleeing for half a second before he remembers that he wants to be with Phil.

He doesn't think this is a conversation that needs to happen on the pavement while people are waiting for them inside, so. He'll let Phil take the lead on the conversation and summon all the acting chops he has to make Phil's parents like him. Then, when they're alone again, Dan will be honest about the misunderstanding.

On the bright side, he can absolutely pitch this concept to a Netflix producer as an oblivious lesbian romantic comedy. He's just annoyed at himself for making him live it.

This is ridiculous. He is in a ridiculous situation right now. Before he follows Phil inside, he texts Jaime a quick, ok so im in a romcom after all and in a shocking twist of events im also very very stupid.

WHAT DID YOU DO

Dan doesn't reply, because he has to get into role now as someone who totally knew that the coffee and the Chinese food and the hungover vegging out were Dates.

--

Phil's parents do seem nice, which is something of a relief. His mum is a tiny whirlwind of cheer, giving Phil a hug and a few kisses to his pink face before she turns to Dan and exclaims, "You must be Daniel!"

She hugs him, too. It's an odd sensation for Dan, but he awkwardly pats her on the back. "Yeah, uh, hi. Sorry for crashing your party."

"Nonsense," she says, with such feeling that Dan actually believes her.

"Dan, these are my parents," Phil says unnecessarily, sliding into the booth across from a quiet man with Phil's smile. "Kath and Nigel."

"Nice to meet you, Dan," Nigel says, taking the name cue from Phil. He shakes Dan's hand when he sits down next to Phil. It makes Dan a little emotional, seeing these people genuinely pleased to meet him, even though he's a man.

"Daniel, sir," Dan corrects him politely. He gives Phil a sidelong look. "Only this one calls me Dan."

Phil just shrugs, looking a little smug.

"Your brother should be here soon," Kath says, looking over the drink menu. "Any idea if he's bringing Cornelia? I have a scarf to give back to her."

"You could always just give it to Martyn," Phil suggests. They both laugh.

"Yeah, alright, love, if I want it to get lost on the way."

Dan bites his lip and looks at his own menu. Phil is so comfortable with his parents in a way that he doesn't know if he could ever be with his own. Even if he were to let them into his life and they were to accept him for it, he thinks it might be too late for them to really bond.

Now's not the time for this crisis on top of the one he's already having, though. He tunes back into the conversation, which is still on the whereabouts of Phil's brother.

Nigel notices him looking up from the table and gives him a smile that's all Phil, reassuring and a little sheepish. "So, Daniel, tell us about yourself. Phil hasn't told us anything but your name."

"Must be ashamed of us," Kath sniffles, overdramatic, and Dan decides he likes her.

"I'm just not that interesting," Dan laughs.

A little scoff comes from beside Dan. "Shut up," says Phil. "Dad, Dan is one of the stars of that Netflix show Heatwave. He's just being modest."

"Oh, yes," says Nigel, a spark of recognition going off. "It's been in our list for a while, hasn't it, dear?"

"It has," Kath agrees. She beams at Dan in a way that radiates pride, and he almost can't look at her. It's too sincere, too open. He wants to hide away from it. "That's lovely, Daniel, you must work very hard."

Luckily, Dan is saved from having to think of something appropriate to say instead of just crying on her shoulder by the arrival of a lanky man.

"Budge up," he tells Dan. He's got the same air of familiarity that Kath had, that Phil had back when they met. It occurs to Dan that he's been chalking that up to Phil's media training, and the real answer may just be that this is the way he was raised to act. He already feels more comfortable here than he has at a table of his own family members for many, many years.

Dan scoots over, closer to Phil. Their thighs press together through their tight jeans, and Dan wonders if Phil can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. He kind of expects Phil to shuffle along the bench, too, but he stays where he is.

"Manners," Kath scolds as he folds himself into the booth beside Dan.

"Oh, right," says Martyn. He grins and offers a hand for Dan to shake. He has a loose grip, like he doesn't care to make a specific impression. Dan likes that, so used to too-firm handshakes and weird manly pats on the back from the people he interacts with at work. "Alright, mate?"

"Alright," says Dan. "I'm Daniel. You must be Martyn, unless you're Cornelia and another tall man is joining us."

"Don't think we can fit another around this table," Martyn says easily. "Nah, Corn's at home. She's feeling a bit ill, sends her love." The last part is directed to Kath and Nigel, who nod in eerie synchronicity.

"I'll have to give her scarf back on our way back," says Kath.

Their waitress arrives then, and Dan finds it entertaining to watch as three Lesters subtly compete to make her laugh while she takes everybody's drink order. He catches Nigel's eye and they exchange a small grin. Dan has never considered himself particularly quiet - he's more like the local class clown, no matter how old he gets - but he's content to sit back and let Phil and Martyn argue around him while Kath asks the waitress about her day.

She looks almost prepared for it when she turns to Dan, so he dimples up at her and says, "I like your nail polish."

"Thank you," she says, still smiling but looking more and more like she wishes she'd given this table to someone else. Dan takes pity on her, doesn't try to drag out the joke longer like he normally would.

"Wish I could pull off that colour," he adds, his heart pounding even though Phil's family probably won't judge him for it. "And, uh, I'll have a mojito, if that's okay?"

"If that's okay?" Phil murmurs into Dan's ear, making him shiver.

"Shut up," Dan whispers back, stepping on Phil's foot under the table. Phil kicks him back lightly.

"Absolutely vile," Martyn says in the sort of easy tone that comes from chirping people you love. He doesn't sound at all like he means it. Dan's shoulders tense anyway. Phil's grin flickers, like he notices.

"Shut up, Mar," Phil suggests, mildly enough that his parents can't reprimand him for it if they were the type to.

Martyn shrugs and starts talking to his mum about something that Dan can't follow, so he doesn't try to. Now that nobody is paying attention to them, Dan drops his hand to Phil's knee and squeezes. It's a thank you and a reassurance that he's fine, all in one.

With a small smile curling at the corners of his lips, Phil puts a hand over Dan's and leaves it there. His palm has got a very slight chill to it, like Phil is somehow cold despite being pressed against Dan in the corner of a booth.

They're practically holding hands. Dan turns his own hand over and links their fingers together in a fit of desire to say that he is holding Phil's hand. Dan is holding a man's hand under a table in public, with that man's family chatting around them, and his heart is fucking pounding like he's trying to run a marathon. He hopes his palm isn't sweaty.

If it is, Phil shows no inclinations of pulling his hand back anyway.

As the evening goes on, Dan finds himself relaxing more and more. The Lesters are warm and funny people to be around, talking over each other comfortably and doing their best to include Dan in jokes. The food is good, too, which is always a core part of Dan's happiness.

But the fact that Phil hasn't let go of his hand this whole time is really what's making Dan feel at peace. Their dominant hands are free to eat with, so they just... don't pull away.

Dan has a silly thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he always wants to eat on Phil's left. The mental image of them trying to be pressed this close together on their dominant sides, elbows knocking while they try to eat, is enough to make Dan swallow a giggle.

Phil's family don't ask him too many questions, but Dan finds himself offering the information anyway. He finds that he wants to impress them, make them think that maybe he's good enough for their son.

"I went to uni in Manchester," he says when Nigel says he misses the city sometimes. "I - didn't finish, I moved to Chicago."

"That's quite a long way to move," says Kath. "Whatever drew you there, love?"

For a moment, Dan thinks about lying. Surely Phil's parents would like him more if he was responsible, followed a job or even a relationship to America, but Phil is looking at him so curiously that he has to tell them the truth.

"I wanted to pursue acting in America," says Dan. "And a friend in Chicago said I could stay in their spare room. Then they rented out the spare room before I got there and neglected to tell me, and I ended up couchsurfing for a bit until I could afford to go to L.A., which sucked."

"That's impressive, actually," Martyn says around a mouthful of pasta.

"Manners," Kath scolds again, reaching across the table to swat lightly at Martyn's wrist. She gives Dan a warm smile. "He's right, Daniel, that was very brave of you."

It hadn't felt brave or impressive while it was happening. Dan's early twenties had felt like he was constantly on the edge of a cliff and he was just trying to dig his nails in and pull himself up. The long bouts of depression didn't make it any easier, since Dan would end up isolating himself, not showing up to work, or doing stupid shit just to feel something.

Things didn't change for him in an instant. He didn't find overnight fame or anything like that. After years of staying on that cliff with small parts and long nights, he got lucky with a Netflix gig three years ago.

Still, he supposes it sounds impressive to people who don't know the full story, and it's certainly something to be proud of in any case. Broke on a stranger's sofa in a foreign country to doing a worldwide press tour in less than a decade isn't something Dan takes for granted.

Dan shrugs instead of voicing his internal thoughts, smiling a little. "I miss Manchester too, sometimes, and I was only there for a year. I can't imagine how y'all feel."

"We do miss it occasionally," Nigel says. "But we like where we are now, don't we, dear?"

"Oh, it's perfect for us," says Kath, beaming at him with such obvious affection that it makes Dan's heart clench. He can't remember his mum ever looking at his dad like that. "And so beautiful, too! You should see it in the winter, Daniel."

"The Isle of Man, right?" Dan asks for clarification, and he smiles when the table agrees in a chaotic overlap of each other.

"Mum's right, it's really pretty in the winter," says Phil. "I never want to leave after Christmas."

Martyn snorts. "Sure, it's the Manx views, not the mince pies."

"It can be both!"

"What do you do for Christmas, love?" Kath asks, and Dan startles a bit at the question. He's quiet for a beat too long, maybe, because Phil squeezes his hand and responds for him.

"Mum," he says, almost sounding embarrassed, "it's been two weeks, stop trying to invite him to holidays."

"Just thought I'd ask, Philip," says Kath. She's just as cheerful as she was at the beginning of the night, and Dan thinks her smile actually grows when he starts blushing. "It's not like you've ever introduced us to a boy before, we thought it must be rather serious."

Honestly, Dan would love it to be serious. But it hasn't even been the two weeks Phil thinks it's been. They aren't on the same page at all right now. Dan feels confident they'll get there, but he doesn't want Phil to feel put on the spot now.

He rubs his thumb over the back of Phil's hand in a comforting gesture and grins sheepishly. "Ah, that's my bad, Kath. I'm only in town til Sunday and didn't want to miss a minute, to be honest."

"Where d'you live?" Martyn asks, beautifully giving Dan an out from the Christmas topic.

"Atlanta," Phil answers for him. Dan wonders if Phil has always sounded so wistful when he says the name of Dan's city. The city that doesn't feel like home.

Martyn whistles low, through his teeth, and sympathetically says, "That sucks." It's that, more than anything, that makes Dan physically feel the ache of the Atlantic that's going to be between them. He leans a bit closer into Phil, like that'll help fill the gap that isn't there yet.

It does suck. Dan has finally figured out what he wants and who he wants it with, but his job is four thousand miles away.

Still, he knows what he wants. He knows that Phil, clearly, wants it too. That's a first step.

--

Dan is feeling warm and loose from the cocktails he'd had with dinner and the easy acceptance of Phil's family. He sways into Phil's personal space on the pavement while Phil waves down a taxi and murmurs, "We gotta talk when we get to your place."

"Okay," Phil says, slow. His brow is furrowed in confusion or anxiety or some combination of the two, and Dan longs to reach out and smooth the lines with his thumb.

He does remember where they are, though, and keeps his hands firmly in the pockets of his borrowed jacket.

The ride back to Phil's isn't very long, but it is quiet. Phil looks out his window the whole time, and Dan looks at Phil. He's so beautiful, it makes Dan's head spin that he could ever want the same thing as Dan.

Phil's family seemed to think Dan would be sticking around, in any case. Kath and Martyn both gave him hugs goodbye after they finished with Phil, and Nigel had squeezed his shoulder tightly in lieu of one. Dan can't believe how welcoming they were to the first man their son had ever brought home.

This certainty of how he feels, how he wants his life to go, is making Dan a bit stupid with bravery. He pulls out his phone and sends some very impulsive texts.

To Jaime, he says, nothing major im just stupid! we'll talk abt it when ur here. To his agent, he says, if HW is ending can we look for work that's in the uk? we should hear back from the producers soon. To his mum, he says, There's something I need to tell you and I don't know if you'll still want me to come over on Saturday. It's a long story, but. Basically I'm gay.

Dan's heart is in his throat. He turns off his phone before anyone can respond, refocusing on Phil's profile.

[nobodies-png]

OrgXIII playing with Reader’s hair [repost]

Since Tumblr mobile thanos s n a p p e d the previous Organization post, i’m posting it here under a read more so y’all can read it ! 

Xemnas :

Xemnas just goes for it. It happens during one of those rare moments where he can just properly c h i l l with you and walk around the castle - you’d ramble about whatever funny shit you saw Demyx do when s u r p r i s e, you feel the faintest of touches. Xemnas doesn’t even flinch when you turn around, surprised to see his hand still wandering through your locks. B u t he is super amused by your reaction.

His touch is so light and gentle you legit barely notice it. The b i g b o s s is just content with just feeling the soft texture of your locks and your scent, commiting them to memory.

Xigbar :

Xigbar probably uses his powers to sneakily play with your hair, giving you playful light tugs and touches here and there because it’s really fucking funny to see you turn around and look everywhere in confusion. When you manage to catch him and confront him about this, he’ll just shrug and give you some half-assed excuse. But the moment you say “well, you could’ve just a s k e d for permission”, Xigbar’s smile broadens, replying with a “so you’re saying I can? S w e e t.”

Okay, Xigbar is up for just giving you stupid hairdos, whether you have long or short hair. But he’s also down for teasing you as much as possible, like blowing air on your neck when you least expect it.

Xaldin :

Xaldin will try to find a good excuse cause he lowkey wants to try to be more a f f e c t i o n a t e with you without being toostraightforward - and he highkey doesn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite, with how protective and reluctant he is about letting others near his hair. So chances are he’ll give you random excuses like “oh wait, you got something in your hair”, trying to be subtle. And it kinda works the first few times, but after the 25th attempt, you’re n o t so sure.

Xaldin’s not used to being gentle, so it’s hard to miss the slight tremble and hesitation in his hand. You end up helping loosening up so he doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass.

Vexen :

Vexen has no problem asking you for permission, like come on he’s not a teenager in love. He’s curious about your hair so he’ll ask you if he can fiddle with it for a while, easy. But s u r p r i s e, it ain’t so easy. The more he thinks about it, the more he’ll overthink until he gets cold feet. Then he forgets about it. Then he’ll remember and r e p e a t the entire entire process. In the end, Vexen just goes for it so he can’t back off.

At first, he’s sort of rough, inspecting your hair more than playing with it. But as the conversation goes, he’d relax and end up just petting your head instead.

Lexaeus :

Lexaeus has enough braincells to know that he should just fucking ask you like a decent human being. So that’s exactly what he does. No overthinking, no bullshit. And since he’s a man of few words, you listen patiently to his explanation cause it’s rare to hear him talk - He thinks your hair is pretty and wants to play with it, but he understands if he’s overstepping any boundaries and will back off if necessary. Done. Boom. Easy.

You’d think Lexaeus would be afraid of hurting you but n a h b i h, he’s got his strength under control so no worries. You can basically f e e l the happiness radiating off him while he gives you little braids.

Zexion :

Oh Zexion’s c o n f l i c t e d. He wants to ask you directly because that’s the normal thing to do, but he finds that option way too embarrassing. What if you laugh at him ? Social interaction is already hard enough. After asking  Lexaeus and Vexen - who both give very contradicting advice, Zexion would most likely just have the castle Moogle pass you a note, asking you to meet him at the library. And after like, 40 minutes of idle chatter, he’d just awkwardly ask if you’d let him play with your hair.

Tension ease off his shoulders as he starts to relax. Zexion probably starts telling you a lot of stories about him as a kid pulling a lot of pranks on Vexen’s hair along with Isa and Lea.

Saix :

Saix goes for it. He knows the right thing to do is to ask for permission, but it’s just hair so it can’t be that bad if he just fiddled with it for a while, right? It’s not really a big deal for him - but if it’s a big deal for y o u, then he’ll openly explain that he just felt like touching your hair, with the most deadpan voice. Maybe even a smug faint grin. Depending on your reaction, he’ll either drop the subject entirely or properly ask you for permission.

Okay but knowing Saix, you just sort of expect him to be super stiff and cold about this entire thing. But s u r p r i s e, he gives you a ridiculous hairdo, knowing that no one will ever believe you if you tried accusing him.

Axel :

Axel is the type of guy to ask for permission w h i l e he’s doing the thing. His hand is already running gently through your scalp when he asks if he can play with your hair - since you two are close, he doesn’t think he should be so polite and proper around you. He ruffles his friends’ hair affectionately all the time, so you’re no different ! If you complain, he’ll back off but pout and insist for a bit. Like come on, i n d u l g e him.

Soft and gentle touches are reserved for intimate moments, so Axel ends up doing the same thing you’d do with his hair : trying every single possible hairstyle and getting way too invested.

Demyx :

Demyx doesn’t even have to do anything. By the looks he gives you - and specially your hair - while you two hang out, you can pretty much figure out what’s going on around his head. He thinks he’s subtle but s w e e t i e, tapping your chin and humming loudly while staring so openly is quite the o p p o s i t e of being subtle. When he finally makes up his mind to ask you for permission, you cut him off with a “yes, go ahead before we both die of old age”.

Demyx just marvels at the difference between his and your hair, wondering if he should get a similar style to yours. He tries to give you a total makeover and f a i l, resulting in both of you laughing your asses off at the final product.

Luxord :

As another gentleman, Luxord also asks you directly without any problems. He’s not a c a v e m a n like some o t h e r members so he’ll just approach you whenever it seems convenient and after some small talk, just bring the subject up. Maybe even offer another friendly game, like he usually does in legit every single situation lmao. You obvi let him just play with your hair cause it’s way easier than being defeated in some card game for the 342854th time.

It’s not a big deal for him. Luxord likes to just fiddle with your hair whenever you’re close while he reads or does other stuff. He thinks it’s super calming and loves seeing you slowly fall asleep next to him.

Marluxia :

Marluxia finds some excuse to play with your hair whenever he feels like it, mostly under the pretense of wanting to give you even more advice on how to take care of your appearance more. There’s no ill will in his words  though and you gotta admit the man has some g o o d tips. It becomes something so reocurring, he doesn’t even have to say anything - you just simply let him play with your hair. It’s not like he’s doing anything bad, so why not ?

You’d expect some fashion judgement coming from him, but surprisingly, Marluxia is pretty chill. He falls asleep while playing with your hair more often than he’d like to admit.

Larxene :

The thought of asking or coming up with an excuse doesn’t even cross Larxene’s mind, she just goes for it as soon as she realizes she wants to play with your hair. You don’t even have time to complain when she pulls you towards her with her usual sharp look and smirk, telling you to stay still and behave while she just does whatever she wants. And y’know how Larxene is, she can’t resist throwing in some unnecessary comment here and there.

Letting her play with your hair is kind of a game of chance : sometimes she’ll be nice and just relax, sometimes she’ll tug your strands “accidentally” just to get a reaction.

Roxas :

Like Axel, Roxas thinks he shouldn’t have to ask, you two are close after all ! B u t he also doesn’t want to make you mad on accident. He’d give you a lot of excuses, only to run away before doing anything. “Ah, your hair keeps getting in your face - here, let me get that for yo U ACTUALLY, I GOTTA LEAVE RIGHT NOW.” In the end, he’d confess that he was really nervous about this entire thing.

Your depression is instantly cured as soon as you see his expression of amazement, like he’s seeing a new world for the first time. Roxas has the time of his life playing with your hair and just chilling with you.

Xion :

After consulting Axel and Roxas a dozen times - and maybe other members of the organization as well - Xion f i n a l l y musters up the courage to ask you directly. She might stutter and stumble over her words at first, avoiding eye contact, but she’ll get it out eventually. Usually, she has no problem asking you stuff, but Xion kind of thinks this request might be odd and just really childish.

She’ll just kinda fiddle around, gasping and muttering under her breath like “oohh” and “ahhh”. But after testing the waters, Xion would try her best to give you a super fancy hairstyle.

[nadziejastar]

I’m pretty sure there might be parallels between Isa/Saïx and that anime doll in the Toy Story world. What tipped me off was the blue hair and green eyes, rabbit ears, and the cutscene afterwards stating it was possessed and attacked its fellow toys against its own will. Which makes it all the more jarring considering how much control Saïx and the other Norts all seem to have in KH3.

Angelic Amber

An unlucky denizen of Galaxy Toys that was possessed by a Marionette.Unpredictable and erratic, her moves made her a maddening foe to face. After Sora and his team freed her from the Marionette’s ill influence, she bore a melancholy expression.

I didn’t make the connection until you pointed it out, but you’re right. The doll does bear an uncanny resemblance to Isa, lol. The hair color, the eye color, the eye shape, nose and lips. Even the rabbit ears. I suppose gothic lolita fashion is the doll equivalent of Organization XIII robes, too. And I mean, hey. Yozora does look like Riku. The characters even admit it. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the doll was inspired by Isa as a reference to what he was supposed to be. Maybe as an inside joke on the part of the development team.Buzz was afraid they’d wind up like her. Forgetting themselves and attacking each other. Which he did.

“The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next.”

–Lewis Carroll

Ya know, now that I think about it, it’s very common to see Alice dressed up in that kinda gothic lolita fashion in anime art. Alice in Wonderland is often used as a literary example of a “Lower World” journey in shamanism: she fell down the rabbit hole and landed in a world full of mysterious creatures and strange experiences. If taken allegorically, all the elements a shaman might encounter in the Underworld are represented during her adventure; from puzzles, to transformations, to guides and guardians and the journey itself – finding the white rabbit. 

Alice: Oh, whatever am I going to do?

Sora: Something wrong?

Alice: Yes! I can’t remember anything–not even my name!

Sora: That’s awful! And strangely familiar… Have we met?

Alice: Oh, I do hope so! Then you can tell me my name.

Sora: Your name is… Alice!

Alice: Alice… Yes, yes, that’s it! Oh, thank you! Now, if only I could remember everything else…

All these elements represent the astral world she’s journeying through. It’s very similar to the Realm of Sleep. I think that’s why Wonderland was chosen as a world in 358/2 Days and Re:Coded. So it’s possible that the doll is not only based on Isa, but an “Alice in Wonderland” version of him. It mixes Alice, who is in a strange dream world, with the White Rabbit design.

Sora: What did you do to him!?

Young Xehanort: I thought I made it clear. I am testing the strength of their bonds. In this world, toys have hearts. And those hearts come from a powerful bond. So what happens when those bonds are stretched to their limit? When they are worlds apart, can cloth and plastic hold onto their hearts? All I needed was a wedge to widen the divide—someone like you to fill them with distrust and doubt. And that chasm you created can be filled with a vast darkness. Witness it for yourself.

The possessed version even has orange eyes. It’s kinda sad that this doll does a better job representing the whole idea behind Isa’s character than the canon depiction. Because that is exactly what Isa was turned into, like all vessels. A doll/puppet for Xehanort’s heart and mind. It’s SO stupid how they were all given free will in KH3. By far one of the worst plot decisions that game made IMO. It completely ruined all that was interesting about the Seekers of Darkness. Isa would have been the first successful vessel, other than Terra and Braig. Terra put up a fight, and Braig was willing. I think Isa was the first vessel he created by turning them into an empty shell without a sense of self first. So, the doll being designed like Isa would make perfect sense.

And I swear, for someone who was allegedly in complete control of himself, Saix sure does have some of the blankest expressions I’ve ever seen. He’s the only Organization member in that illustration who looks so…out of it. Like, his eyes look totally glazed over. It’s just like how Terra looked after he became a vessel. Like there’s nobody home. Even in the final battle, Isa just looks like he’s so unaware of himself. Which is actually what happens to berserker warriors. They are said to fight in a trance-like state. And when people are put under severe enough stress, their fight or flight mode kicks in, and they can enter a berserk state where the parts of the brain that control the sense of self shut down. But I’m doing a separate post on that. I think it’s relevant to the experiments.

Randall: But negative energy? Especially sadness? Give ‘em something that really breaks their little hearts, and they’ll stay sad forever. We’ll never have to worry about energy again.

It’s funny. All the Disney worlds in KH3 have such a strong thematic connection to the Xehanort Saga, but they still wound up feeling totally irrelevant. I think Nomura had all of these plans for how they would be connected to the actual story, but their implementation never amounted to anything more than half-baked ideas. You’ve got Young Xehanort who shows up in Galaxy Toys. And his interest in toys is because they are empty puppets, which is how he wants his vessels to be. And he’s experimenting on them, testing their bond.

Vanitas: My heart is made of just one thing. And the Unversed collected enough screams and sadness from those children to reconstruct it.

Then there’s Vanitas in Monstroplis, who was using negative emotions to build his heart. I found it really weird that there would be all of this talk about how the new Organization was figuring out the perfect way to get a heart to fall to darkness in the worlds of KH3. Which is what is necessary to create a vessel and presumably what Xehanort was trying to do. Yet, it wasn’t even necessary since there were so many people lining up to join the New Organization completely voluntarily. And how can anyone become a vessel for Xehanort’s heart and still be trying to atone? Like Vexen and Saix. You either have to fall to darkness yourself, or you have to have no sense of self to be a suitable vessel. If Saix and Vexen had altruistic intentions, then I highly doubt they’d have enough darkness to sustain Xehanort’s heart. Shit makes NO sense.

🦆🦢🦜Anyways, this is not in response to this question. Just something in general that doesn’t deserve its own post. I wish people would stop telling me to use “Read More” text breaks, LOL. I do! Apparently they don’t show up on certain mobile apps. Not my fault. Blame Tumblr. 🦉🦅🐦

[invelleity]

psst. be honest. all of the questions. go.

i can’t believe jeanette is tryina kill me in public and i’m still love her??? | not accepting anymoooore | @ltbroccoli​

cracks knuckles here we go ( odd numbers 1-9 are here )

2. Are aesthetics important to you? If they are, why?

Not very. It’s fun and cute and all, but I care a whole lot more about “clicking” with people and having fun writing with them.

Exception: If someone’s aesthetic is so overblown that I can’t even find the pages on the blog or read the text, I.....won’t interact with that tbh.

4. How do you explain rp to someone in the real world?

(kicks down my roommate’s door at 10pm) “OK so I’m writing— stop screaming, it’s me,— I’m writing a character in Security and you’re like a double black belt or some shit, can you explain how—”

( My roommates all know it’s a thing I do but I’ve never sent them a link or shown them any of the actual writing. They’ve met a bunch of y’all over like Rabbit streams and @rumdaydreams​ irl though so like.... They Know. )

More under the cut

6. Do you prefer writing male muses or female more? Why?

Ehhh, depends on my mood. I lean towards female muses in general ( definitely got a bigger chunk of ladies on my list, for sure for sure ) but I love my boys.

8. Name any three things about the rpc that bother you.

Uhhhh A) We’re all such dumb socially awkward blobs so it’s often hard to get to know new people.

B) The feel that if you have a good relationship with one person who writes a canon muse, it’s some kind of lowkey betrayal to write with other people who write the same muse??

C) How much I, a certified card-carrying dumbass, stress myself out about posting on a “regular” schedule. Does that count? Like I want the blogs to look “presentable” lmao and me@me Calm The Fuck Down.

10. Have you ever had a bad experience with commissions? As either someone who makes them or as someone who buys them?

N / A

11. What do you know now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started?

Uhhhh, when I first started was long enough ago and the community was so different a lot of those lessons no longer apply. I wish when I finally jumped over to Tumblr I’d realized quicker how the new like....basic ways of meeting people and posting and all worked, which was mostly just a “calm down and go with the flow more, let go of your stupid rigid old habits” lmaooo.

12. Have you been involved in drama? Do you regret it?

yES. Yeah. Hahaha ha h. 

But ummm, not usually. No. Most of my drama has been either A) me posting the very very softest, most diluted version of barely-touching on my politics and my real goddamn life and people being fuckin butthurt as hell about or B) cutting people who were toxic and draining out of my life. So.

13. Have you ever thought about leaving rp? What caused it? What changed your mind?

cw suicidal ideation ment

Yeah. Once I actually did — when I started college I just didn’t have the time, so I peaced from the larger community to just write with close friends for a while. I’ve also considered leaving the T.umblr RPC a few times, but really only because of long bad depressive episodes. Coming back and “not wanting to literally die irl ha Ha” and catching up with my drafts gets me back on track lmao. 

14. Do you think rp has had a positive or negative affect on your life or you as a person?

Positive! Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time wrapped up in fiction and miss my real life, but I’ve learned to keep my time more separate so now it’s just good to have a healthy hobby that makes me happy. Also I’m definitely a much better writer for it, and there a lot of networking skills I think translate to real workplace skills so it’s 👌

15. How has rp changed you personally?

See above, tbh. And it gives me a lot of good outlets for writing ideas that would otherwise stew in my head until I hated myself for never ever writing any lmao. It’s good.

16. If you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? Why?

Oh, I dunno. I wish I could post replies from mobile more easily, god. That’d keep me a lot more on top of my drafts lmao.

17. Have you ever sent a message to yourself on anon? Why?

Not on any of the rp blogs. ;^)

18. Have you ever sent hate to yourself on anon? Why? 

No, wtf

19. Do you delete anon hate or post and address it? Why?

Depends on the hate — things I feel need to be addressed or I want to be clear about not tolerating I’ll post. Personal hate and mean shit I delete.

Or if it’s stupid and makes me laugh I will definitely post that shit.

20. Have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren’t comfortable with?

Sometimes. If a partner is actually pressuring me I’m real good at saying uhhh hey, fuck off about that? but sometimes partners will perfectly-innocently be enthusiastic about things I’m not super comfortable with and that’s harder to bring up. So it’s..... more like I pressure myself, whoops.

21. Have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to?

Ehh. Not really. Sometimes I’ll follow a friend of a friend despite lack of interest just because, like.... My friends are smart and good, maybe I’m just not getting the right “vibe” from their blog as who really they are. Sometimes that just means we never click and I unfollow them later. Or sometimes @rumdaydreams​ drags me straight to mutual hell and we write 20,000 unfinished bullshit and meet irl and she actually talks me into wholeass new blogs and muses. So, you know. Mix bag.

22. What would make you block someone?

Red flags for manipulation and lowgrade emotional a.buse, especially ones I viscerally feel in my stomach from previous experiences. Obvious r.ight-leaning politics ( Weirdly, I’m not particularly comfortable around people who don’t think I or my friends deserve to be treated like human beings! A character quirk, haha! )

Also ngl sometimes I block people just to remind myself I’ve followed them before and I don’t wanna re-follow them six times and look like I’m trying to intentionally harass them. My memory is bad but the block button always knows, lmao. 😅

23. Have you ever stolen something from someone else?

Not intentionally — I try very hard not to steal hc from duplicates or take plots without asking. But, y’know, sometimes an idea sticks in your head and you eventually just forget where it originally came from.

24. Have you ever had something stolen from you? If so, how did you handle it?

Not that I’m aware of.

25. Are you open to duplicates? Why / why not?

Absolutely, for the most part! I like seeing other perspectives, and especially since @thewrongsorts​ is such a bigass multi it lowkey just makes my life easier.

There are a few exceptions — less because they’re duplicates and more because there are hc/fanon I just......dislike enough I don’t wanna write with them. Not a feeling that’s limited to duplicates tbh.

26. How do you feel about vague posting? 

Ehhh. It’s like not a great thing, but I get the appeal. I tend to unfollow if someone posts a lot of it because then they’re just passive-aggressive as a person, but the occasional vagueblog I don’t mind. Sometimes you gotta get shit off your chest but you don’t wanna make it a wholeass call-out, I get it.

27. Do you follow people even if they don’t follow you back?

Generally I unfollow. I’m here to write, if we’re not interacting it’s clogging my dash. ( Honestly I unfollow mutuals eventually if we never write.... ) But very occasionally someone’s got such good #takes and hc that I stick around just bc I stan.

28. Do you read people’s rules before following or interacting?

A l w a y s.

29. What is your opinion on “reblog karma” and do you practice it?

It’s nice! Like.... I wouldn’t require anyone to do it, but it makes people feel better about their blogs, it’s polite. I know I’m happier getting memes as well as passing them along. You know, be social. Connect with people. I always try to practice it, yeah.

30. How have you responded to popular slang used on tumblr? Do you use it in every day life? Do you use it at all?

Uhhh, yeah. My irl social circles are a lot of dumb gay millennials, we use a lot of dumb internet slang.

31. Is there something you don’t know the meaning of but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it’s supposed to be general knowledge?

Oh yeah! Joined Tumblr rpc ten years late with Starbucks! But also like.... I’m a web developer. 90% of my irl workskills are being good at Googlin’ shit. So I’ve pretty much always found the answer on my own, at least. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

32. Was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain? 

( See above. )

33. Have you ever experienced discrimination? 

Here or irl or....? I mean yes in any case, but much less often in the rpc specifically. This blog is a lot less outspoken ( both about politics or about who I....am....generally ) than most of my others or me irl.

Shoutout to that time I complained one (1) time about how copacetic the H.arry P.otter rpc is and an actual irl n.eon.azi jumped in my inbox lmaooooooo.

34. How do you feel about personal blogs following your rp blog?

Uhhh, I don’t love it? But if they mostly chill and don’t fuck with my actual threads I usually ignore them. ¯\_( ‘ ‘ )_/¯

35. Have you ever cried while writing a reply?

No. I’m not like......good at crying. 😐

36. Do you read other people’s threads or do you only read your own?

Depends on the blog. Some multis I follow are in fandoms I just like don’t even understand, so I don’t read those. Sometimes I just don’t got the energy. But I read a lot of my friends’ other threads or threads on blogs I stan.

Good writing is good shit and I’m.....a big 👀 bitch. Tbh.

37. What’s one thing that other people seem to hate that doesn’t bother you?

Call-out posts, bringing real life politics into rp, generally acknowledging that we have lives outside of the fictional world that affect how we read and interact with fiction.

( 👏 The O.rder 👏👏 of the 👏 P.hoenix 👏👏 is A.ntif.a 👏👏👏 )

I don’t want to ever push that onto other people though, definitely. (Especially people affected by terrifying irl politics and coming here for escapism. )

38. How do you feel about tagging triggers? Do you tag them? How do you determine what is triggering content and what isn’t?

Always 👏👏 tag 👏👏 fucking 👏 triggers 👏👏👏

I tag things that are common or obviously upsetting, and if someone asks I add whatever tags they need to my list — the “list” is mostly a mental tally so I occasionally fuck up, but god I feel strongly about triggers.

Let 👏 people 👏 who are hurting 👏👏 live. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

39. What advice would you give to someone new to rp?

Poking around to see how other people seem to “operate” and scrolling through posts about how to get started is so so so fucking helpful! Don’t be afraid to do it!

Also reach out to people as much as you can work up the spoons to. If they’re rude back to you, like..... They were never worth your time anyhow. You dodged a bullet.

( Value yourself 2k19 )

[inspiringwhilerespiring]

Yall know i love this survey shit<3

1. List 5 things you want to do before the year ends.

-finish 5 books

-lose 20 lbs

-produce more art

-travel out of the state & country

-heal my heart and love myself a lil more

2. What color are your pants?

not wearing any

3. Favorite motivational quote.

damn, there’s A L O T. prob something simple and to the point. I like “proud, but never satisfied” and “the distance between your dreams and reality is called action”

4. When was the last time you drank coffee?

yesterday; got a new french press for christmas<3

5. What was the last thing you ate?

lmao the weirdest shit. hot cheetos, some hummus, and a bar

6. Favorite animal.

soo many; always been fascinated by sharks. Elephants are up there too.

7. Favorite song.

currently anything Kid Cudi - he soothes my soul

8. Last movie you watched?

National Lampoon family vacation I think?

9. Any turn ons?

of course; im one of those gay people who gets turned on by having an emotional connection first and foremost; but if were strictly talking physical shit - any neck action is sexy af. or just taking breaks to make eye contact.

10. Any turn offs?

bad breath lol and just being a dick in general or inconsiderate

11. List 4 big words off of the top of your head.

cognizant; superfluous; compelling; anguished

12. What are some meaningful movies?

First ones that come to my mind that left an impact or a meaningful message are Shawshank Redemption, Avatar, Wall-E (lol), Forest Gump

13. 2 most important people in your life right now?

Myself honestly 

14. What are 3 things you want to do before the month ends?

Find a desk, order a blender, and form a morning routine

15. When was the last time you read a good book?

Currently reading Michelle Obama’s -Becoming; before that I read the Alchemist and it was good

16. How long do you study for usually, if you study?

I don’t

17. Do you have any nicknames?

Pollo, Hayls

18. Favorite kind of perfume? (fruity, alluring, etc.)

Viva la Juicy, but honestly all of them - been sticking to essential oils or all natural shit lately - anything with Amber is good.

19. Do you have any international friends / friends who live out of state?

yes<3

20. What is something unique that you do every single day?

lol shower? I dont really do anything special i dont think?

21. If there was a movie based on your life, what would it be called?

“Becoming” lol because I feel like I am always growing and changing and adapting and learning and ill never just be one thing

22. When was the last time you bought a gift for someone?

Recently - christmas time

23. Are you a shopaholic?

no - but i just got an amazon prime account and thats game changer fa real

24. What are some songs that always make you feel better?

Love - Kid Cudi, 

25. List 3 activities that you can only enjoy by yourself.

Sitting in the tub (otherwise that shit is too crowded lmao)

Reading a good book

Masturbating prob?

26. If you could live in any biome (and survive) which biome would you live in?

Tropical island

27. How do you like being roused in the morning?

cuddles and soft music (prob reggae) and if i aint got shit to do a bluntttt fam

28. How was your day? What did you do?

it was ok - fighting some inner demons lately and feeling really low :/ but i got a little bit done so im giving myself a break

29. What did your last text message say?

“bye”

30. Do you respond to texts quickly?

depends on who it is lol

31. Who was the last person you called?

my mom

32. List 5 things that are on your wish list.

i wanna learn another language

I wish to be able to see more things change for the better in our world

i wish to skydive

i wish to live in another country for a while

and i wish to love myself

33. If you were famous, what do you think you would be famous for?

maybe being a host of a talk show lol

34. Winter or summer?

both

35. What is a quality that all people should have?

empathy

36. If you could have a large collection of one item, what would that item be?

my inner white girl and materialistic ass says shoes - but idk i think it would also be cool to have a collection of books or photographs - ya know that sentimental shit i be on

37. What have you been thinking about lately?

wow so much - a lot of reflecting honestly about who i have been and how i’ve treated others and how i am trying to change myself - so ironically enough, i’ve also been thinking about the future and trying to focus on who i want to be and where i want to be

38. What is the secret to a happy life?

taking it day by day im sure

39. What are some phrases you say often?

“nice” lol to my clients a lot

40. Favorite food?

lately its been asian - like thai and vietnamese. fuck now i want some dumplings and curry and egg rollllz

41. List 3 wishes.

already fuckin diiiiiddd fam

42. What are some of your greatest fears?

memory loss, dying, losing others

43. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?

idk whats app prob

44. Most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen (in real life)? 

machu picchu

45. Spicy food:Like or dislike? 

LOVE

46. Scary movies:Like or dislike?

Depends

47. Do you like to travel?

Do you know me lol

48. Any regrets?

yeah always, but i try to live my life without any and honestly id never go back and change em

49. Do you like rain?

obsessed; fav weather actually

50. What do you spend most of your money on?

food

51. Would you rather visit the past or the future?

past bc im a sentimental person; future is exciting and i like surprises and the unknown and dreaming about that shit - id rather not know.

52. Favorite clothing store?

depends - urban outfitters is my style but i like goodwill just as much

53. What is the best advice you can give to those who are feeling down?

this too shall pass

54. How often do you think about your future? Does it scare you?

honestly not often enough, i try not to over think things or it tends to give me anxiety. why worry about things that are far out of our control? I just take shit day by day

55. What angers you the most?

ignorance. and rude ass people. when someone isnt being genuine

56. When was the last time you got majorly angry?

yesterday

57. When was the last time you got really sad?

today

58. Are you good at lying?

im sure everyone is to some degree

59. What foreign language would you like to learn?

spanish

60. How many languages can you speak and what are they?

just one - semi fluent in spanish

61. How often do you go to parties? If you don’t, what do you do instead?

lol 

62. What books do you plan to read this year?

not sure! I have a couple but we shall see

63. Do you have breakfast every morning?

yes i try to - its my fav meal

64. Tell us a secret.

then it wouldnt be a secret

65. How many concerts have you been to?

a few

66. Last hug?

wasnt long enough

67. Who knows you better than anyone else?

myself

68. Baths or showers?

ooooooh damn, depends

69. Do you think you’re ambitious?

i could be a little more

70. What song is stuck in your head?

lmaooo wake up in the sky by gucci mane and bruno - thats been my shit lately

71. Countries you’ve visited?

Peru, Canada, Mexico, Costa Rica, Jamaica, Caymans, Philippines

72. What do you most value in your friends?

Communication and laughter

73. What helps you to sleep better?

putting my got dang phone away from me

74. What is the most money you have ever held in your hand?

prob like 2 grand or some shit

75. What makes you nervous?

when i over book myself or take too much on and have a lot on my plate - so time management i suppose

76. What is the best advice you’ve ever been given?

to live in the present moment; and to take care of myself 

77. Is it easier to forgive or forget?

forgive for sure - i dont really ever forget

78. First mobile phone?

ayyy a flip phone and it was see thru and lit up and had a walkie talkie!

79. Strangest dream?

lmao ew no im so ashamed

80. Best dream?

flying or something

81. Who is the smartest person you know?

my grandpa it seems

82. Who is the prettiest person on tumblr?

idk

83. Do you miss anyone right now?

very much, always

84. Who do you love? Why?

everyone, because life is too damn short for hate

85. Do you like sharing?

yeah lol bc i expect ppl to share w me in return

86. What was the last picture you took with your phone?

idk actually

87. Is there a reason behind everything that happens?

yeah id like to think so

88. Favorite genre of music?

i was raised on hip hop so i feel like that is my go to but honestly i love reggae, alternative, a lil bit of electro chill shit, R&B, oldies, jazz, anything 

89. If you had one word to describe yourself, what would it be?

Understanding

90. Describe your life in 5 words.

roller coaster. fun. emotional. loving. growth.

91. Describe the world in 4 words.

crazy. beautiful. strong. vast.

92. Craziest thing you’ve ever done?

skinny dip?

93. First three songs in your favorite playlist?

cocaine model - zhu

is this love - bob marley

tadow - masego

94. Are you more creative or logical?

def without a doubt 100% creative/emotional/empath/sensative/does things based on feelings rather than reason type person lmao

95. Would you rather lie or hurt someone with the truth?

truth always

96. What are you most proud of?

my ability to communicate and understand people

97. What personality trait do you admire in other people?

strength/humility 

98. When you imagine yourself as really, really relaxed and happy, what are you doing?

smoking a fat ass blunt doing yoga on a sunny day while its 68 degrees out and im on a beach 

[italicwatches]

The Good Place - Season 2, Episode 01

Okay, so, we’ve got a few things to run down the line.

First and foremost, you might notice the lack of image. Real talk, I delayed this by two entire series, just trying to find a way to screenshot or screen grab or somehow get a fucking image out of Netflix on mobile.

I have, as you can see, failed to do so. There might be a way to force it that I haven’t figured out yet, and if any iOS or Android wizards are reading this and can help me figure out a way to do it, I’m all ears. Until that point, we are kicking this old school.

Secondly, if you are reading this on the RPGNet forums, you might know that we are about to undergo a mega upgrade that will put us on lockdown the whole weekend.

I am not stopping for that weekend. While posts will go up after, I also post these to a tumblr blog, Italic Watches. Check in and see what’s going on, follow, reblog, annoy your friends, click on anything bell-shaped, I think that’s how it works.

Oh, and thirdly, if you’re reading this on Tumblr…We’re about to super spoil this show’s first season, which I haven’t had a chance to get up here yet. Make sure you’re caught up first, got it?

With those things said, let’s get this show on the road. It’s The Good Place, season 2, episode 01! Here we GO!

-LAST SEASON on the Good Place. Eleanor died, woke up, was told she was in the Good Place, met Chidi, revealed she wasn’t intended for the Good Place. Met the couple Tahani and Jianyu, and Jianyu is really an idiot DJ named Jason from Florida. I am not fond of him having my name. She ultimately revealed that she was a liar…And then figured out that this was all an experiment by the Bad Place crew, and this WAS the Bad Place from the start! And so, the man in charge, Michael, realized the one answer was to reboot and start things over…And Eleanor had one single chance to hide a clue…

-Chapters 14 & 15.

In his office, Michael prepares for his latest meeting with his boss who I forget the name of. He’s made a bunch of little tweaks, like how now there’s no fresh coffee, it’s JUST pod machines. And new soulmates, trained actors. He won’t let you down! Yes you will. You most absolutely will fail, and be truly infamous for the next round of eternity.

-So Michael frantically has a company meeting with his staff crew. Various demons have lots of questions, including Vicky really wanting to get to play Real Eleanor again. Now she’s stuck playing Denise, and she doesn’t get Denise, and yeah there’s a lot of uncertainty…

-But, okay. Listen, guys. The opening salvo from version one was SOLID. They’re gonna re-use it. Get Eleanor drunk as hell at the welcome party, and then get her to make mistakes so they have material for the next morning’s chaos sequence! And he gets it, that humans with their mouths and elbows suck and are the worst. Sure, you’ll be tempted to do this the easy way, the old way. But this is going to work, and it’s going to be better. Now, say it with him. One, two, three, TORTURE!

-So hey, back with Eleanor, she’s trying to figure it out and also remember Janet’s name. Which is not working. But now she has a name. Chidi. But who, or what, is Chidi? Is that a type of soup? Okay, whatever it is, it’s gotta be in this town.

-Into the town! Where she meets Nina and Bart, soulmates, and tries to figure out how to find people…And also learns there’s no phones. No phones. At all. …Fork. So that didn’t work.

-And then she runs into ‘Jianyu’, silent monk, who passes her a sprocket…? Is, is he…?

-Cue Michael! Who quickly lets her know about Jianyu, the Taiwanese monk who never speaks. Might not be the first person you should get to know, what with a barrier that big. And look, they both know you’re not like everyone else here…

-S-She isn’t?

-Your work as an environmental activist was amazing, truly amazing! “Yes, well, I loved…Mushrooms. I can honestly say that.”

-Pop quiz do you think she’s referring to the ones other people put on pizza or the magic kind.

-So of course, Michael wants her to say a few words at the welcome party…By which he means an hour. And she gets a special little something to wear.

-A sash that declares her BEST PERSON. Which she has on at the party with her new man, whose heart is in the pope, his liver in the Dalai Lama, and his teeth are a necklace for a child king. And then he immediately ditches his tux to go get ripped. I kind of like his character. Very charming meathead.

-So who’s running this amazing manor, what with it no longer being Tahani? It’s Jessica, who wants to hear her big speech! And also she brought a very full glass of wine for Eleanor…Eleanor who tries to refuse, because can you imagine being drunk right before a big speech? “Getting kicked out of your niece’s christening…And only later, once you’ve sobered up, realizing you don’t even a niece? It’s like, who was that kid?”

-The whole party, of course, is full of people trying to offer her drinks, trying to line up that first shot. The problem is, it’s not working…She eventually tries to sneak a quick shot and a few shrimps, just trying to clear her head a little, and it’s looking like things might get back on track…

-Then she hears a woman arguing with a man.

-By the name.

-Of Chidi. SHE KNEW HE WASN’T A SOUP! Listen. They need to talk. Privately.

-Flashback to the moment Chidi awoke, rebooted. And learned that all of his heroes, all of the great philosophers, are in the Bad Place. Where they go naked to a class they’ve never been to on quiz day, every day. …And then they get smashed with hammers. That part’s not as clever as the rest. But you beat all of them at actually living by the principles you spoke of…

-And where things got interesting, is that Chidi was set up with multiple soulmates. See, normally, you get matched with one person. A perfect match to your core personality, the single best person across all things for you. But every so often, you get two paired matches. And so you have a choice!

-Here. Meet Pedro, Angelique, and Pevita. So, you four have a paired match. Any one of you, would be happy with any one of the other three. So all you have to do is someone has to make the call. Have fun! Chidi, did not have fun. He did not have fun with this at all. Because if you know Chidi, well, you know how badly this was gonna be for Chidi. The man who once had a moral panic attack at a make your own sundae bar.

-Sidenote, listen, buddy, the answer is simple. Chocolate pallet. Chocolate pallet, with creamy, and some of those little cheesecake bites.

-I’d fight somebody for some of those little cheesecake bites right now. Like, just so we’re clear.

-So he started trying to get to know them both, and an incredibly obvious answer was set before him with Angelique being so much more obviously better…But literally the instant he said that, Michael came racing in, and showing that there was a calculator error from one four-hour gap in mid-2003, and with that deviation taken into account, there was a deviation somewhere deep in the decimal points that DEFINITIVELY showed that Pedro should be with Angelique and Chidi with Pevita!

-…Shit. He’s good.

-And Chidi immediately buckled under the pressure and went with it instead of standing up for himself.

-So of course, they all ran into each other at the party. Which sent things even more sideways…Oh, and to make things even messier, right after he went to the bar to try and clear his head, up came ‘Denise’ to throw an additional wrinkle…I mean until Angelique stepped in.

-Basically what I am saying is that Chidi has had a very bad day.

-Which swings us back to the Now, and to Eleanor pulling Chidi aside to have a long, serious conversation. And she takes him to a side room, and shows him the note…At some point, before she woke up here, this note, in her handwriting, was in do-not-say-her-name’s mouth. And everyone’s been trying to ply her with liquor at this party.

-Something is not adding up. Her soulmate won’t spend more than two seconds with her. And a weird monk guy gave her THIS mysterious magic bracelet. …Eleanor now that I have a better look at that I am about 95% sure that is a bicycle gear, and most of the remaining 5% is taken up by the phrase Spacely Sprocket. She can’t hear me, this is linear fiction.

-…And then Chidi takes it all off the track because he is too consumed with his own shit to help her. And then, it’s speech time!

-Actually it’s time to get back to the start point. Tahani’s waking up. …And I’m just gonna add her name to the dictionary so I don’t get a super racist autocorrect error. And she gets to meet her soulmate, Tomás, whose medical work was ultimately funded by her tireless fundraising! Such perfect pairings you’d almost think some twisted, vindictive devil was setting it all up.

-Especially since Tomás here is about a head shorter than her. And it’s just getting from bad to worse, as we see her new house with him. It’s a…

-Actually shit I kind of love this place. It’s this little cottage out in the middle of nature, comfy and cozy and I’m getting real warm vibes off of it, good job lighting team on that one. Tomás then declares that they don’t need anywhere near all this space, so, bye-bye second floor! …Listen I know he’s playing a bit to dig under all of Tahani’s unexamined superiority issues but I would fucking love this cottage.

-…Oh fuck her sister’s paintings are all over the walls. Jesus, Michael, there’s torture and then there’s just cruelty. And Tomás is just gonna go in his usual digs to this swanky shindig, so…

-So that’s how Tahani ends up at the party in the inverse of her soulmate’s clothes. He’s in jeans and a green jacket, she’s in green pants and a denim jacket. And she’s really not handling it well. “I’m just not used to dressing like a plumber-ess!”

-You know, I’d feel bad, but literally everything Tomás’s character is presenting to fuck with her is kind of my jam so mostly I’m just rolling my eyes at her…her-ness.

-They are really digging in just how bad of a person Tahani is at the zero-point, though. …Also okay I will grant, I’m not a fan of Crocs unlike Tomás here. More of a flip flop man, comes with the Californian territory.

-So he’s off to the bar, and Tahani gets a chance to talk with Michael…And of course he puts the doubt in her head, reminding her that the system is Never Wrong. And if she wants, they can change the house! Do you want a mansion like this? Bigger? How about a moon? They can put you on a fucking moon Tahani, if that is how much space you need, to be in literal space. Is that what you need? Do you need your own personal moon, Tahani?

-Still not feeling bad for zero-point Tahani.

-Like, not even a little bit.

-So we get back to the encounter point, as Tahani ends up being the one left with Eleanor’s drinks when she races after Chidi…Just in time to run into another guy wearing the same green cargo pants as her. They’re cargo pants buddies! He was a garbage man in Winnipeg, what did you do in life? …Right, time to down them shots!

-And then it’s speech time. Eleanor gets up in front of the crowd, and tries to get to work on something akin to a speech, frazzled enough to actually be trying to take this seriously—

-. . .

-o o o

-I don’t know what I expected.

-But a drunk Tahani shoving her out of the way to vent about the bullshit of her first day, was not exactly at the top of my expectation list. So she’s…Not doing great. And Michael quietly tries to encourage Eleanor to get things back on track.

-Which is when Tahani is drunk enough to demand the mansion, and so Eleanor tries to take her aside to get some coffee and Tahani is not having it. “Is this your first time ever wearing a sash?!” …Well good job, Tahani, you made me sympathize with and feel bad for (nearly) zero-point Eleanor. That is not an easy task.

So that’s how Tahani…

-Um…

-…Oh boy.

-Oh dear.

-She rips the sash off of Eleanor. Stumbles back over the shrimp table. Knocks over a candelabra. And sets the curtains on fire.

-…Not a great day for Tahani.

-Back to the zero point, for our final man. ‘Jianyu’ woke up, and got handed his chance to just keep his mouth shut. And learned that his own soulmate connection was more deeply forged on a spiritual level than a romantic one. Which is how he met Luang, a fellow Buddhist monk. Binary souls, a perfect reflection of the other!

-And indeed, they spent all their time together, with lots of action mirroring, much to Jianyu’s frustration…Which led to that encounter with Eleanor. Right when he was taking the gear and wheels off of Luang’s bicycle to better ditch him. Which is how Eleanor ended up with that gear, right off the bike, before Jianyu rode off in a flash, finally on his own…

-Only to find Luang waiting for him back at their shared hut. Because of course.

-So to their point in the party, where Jianyu got introduced to the whole Janet situation. And got a pair of heaping glasses of yak’s milk. Jianyu did not do well with it, to say the least.

-So back into the Now, Tahani goes down hard as the fires burn furiously, and Jianyu books it, and right about when Tahani is sobbing about an excessive amount of pockets, Michael realizes shirt is off script.

-Back to his office, to the zero-point for him, and to all the lining up the details. Setting up Eleanor for the speech. Torturing Tahani in her little ways. Setting up Jianyu with the one character who would be of no help to him. Chidi’s hellish situation…And then ‘Denise’ pulling him aside.

-Vicky’s still not liking this situation one bit. Even if Denise runs the best pizza place in town and has a cat, and Michael insists those are pretty cool. …I mean, he’s not wrong there, but Vicky adored playing Real Eleanor! She got to break Chidi’s heart like 20 times, and really mess with him, but now Angelique is playing the game?! She’s a Ferrari stuck in the garage while some little Smart Car put-puts around!

-Listen, listen listen listen. You’ve got a great part coming up in just a few decades, and it includes Chidi. He’s gonna accidentally kill your cat. And it’ll TORTURE him. …Just give her a bigger part! A character bit! You know what, give her a limp! Just SOMETHING to act with!

-Which explains Denise’s whole circus-injury thing when she ‘ran into’ Chidi. I’m not gonna lie I might be more invested in Vicky the bristling actress than in a lot of the other hooks for the actual main characters.

-And things were starting to line up, as Michael checked in with some of the others…And learned that Eleanor wasn’t drinking. Eleanor, who snuck a flask into the car with her during her driving test. But okay, just start moving it forward, aim for the speech…

-And then, well, you know the rest of how that went. And Chidi pulls Eleanor aside, because he’s realizing things aren’t lining up. That note, it was on a page of a book he used to teach. He’s getting…Some kind of feeling off of her, one of those deja vu ‘swear I’ve met you before’ vibes. …Eleanor is pretty convinced that that’s some kind of pickup line. And she’s not entirely turning the idea down, either.

-You know, there was a lot of speculation on whether Eleanor might be bi or such given her attraction to Tahani bubbling up through the first season, but real talk I think she’s just horny.

-Anyways, Michael pulls some core cast into another room to talk, because things are off the rails. You can’t build a chaos sequence for Tahani because Tahani isn’t in here on the “mistaken identity” fiction! They need to get something going with Eleanor, where is she?

-…Good question, Michael.

-Great question.

-Superb question.

-Nobody knows.

-Also Chidi and Jay are also missing.

-Michael is…Shall we say…Displeased. And then Eleanor’s ‘soulmate’ comes to check in because it turns out he’s been claiming he’s off to the gym literally every time Eleanor tries to confess to him. So he really is a meathead.

-How. Many. Times. Have you claimed you were going to go to the gym, or work out, or otherwise used exercise to escape. “Five…No, nine!” Listen, he liked his old job! It was simple! He was a twister! People came in, he twisted them until they snapped in half, he moved on to the next person! But this job is weird! It’s all talking, and emotions, and nobody’s getting twisted! Now he’s REALLY going to the gym!

-Okay. Okay. Deep breath. They need the four humans so they can get back on track. …MOVE YOU IDIOTS! MOVE!

-Cut over to Chidi and Eleanor, who’ve caught up, and Chidi’s…Not handling it well. They clearly met before. But not in life. But she’s not supposed to be here. And this is their first day here. Is he also not supposed to be here?! Did they meet in the Bad Place, or some other cosmic metaphor?!

-And what do they DO?! Eleanor has no idea, but they need to figure it out…!

-Late at night, all on his own, Jay calls up Janet. And in need of someone to talk to, confesses you know everything he’s confessing. So Janet listens, and Jay just wants to be less confused and lonely…And so Janet has somewhere he can go, and so he hugs her, as their ship starts to build back up.

-Back at Eleanor’s place, Chidi’s…Well he’s gotten it to two possibilities. This book this is from is not exactly a 101 text. It’s something he taught at the grad-school level. So, they must have had a lot of time to discuss and study the material…Or, you know, you just tore it out of the first book you found. But still, it’s something.

-And that’s when Michael finds them! Here to apologize for the commotion at the party, and to escort Chidi back home. Which is when Tahani drops by to return the sash after everything that happened…And she’s feeling things aren’t right!

-And that’s when Tomás finds them, and also Pevita. And Janet brings Jay on by and Eleanor is still convinced that that bicycle gear is a magic amulet and Luang comes to get Jianyu and…

-…And Jay breaks character openly and in front of everyone and then Eleanor’s man shows up and, seeing things are off the rails, he just rips his suit off once again to go back to the gym. Again.

-And Eleanor can tell you one thing right here. This is NOT what Michael there’s saying it is. This is NOT the Good Place. This is some…Some prank show! And then she reveals the note, and Michael can’t help but laugh. Very clever, Eleanor! This does explain how things went off-script immediately. But okay, another loop, and without any tricks or built-up materials this time!

-Tahani tries to talk to his boss and SNAP

-Fresh meeting with the crew. You know the human saying, third time’s the charm, right folks? Listen, it was a false start, but Eleanor has no note…He calls up Janet, and checks her internals all the way shoulder deep. …Hey, Michael, did you check with Shawn the boss-man? Of course! And he thought it was very funny and is very supportive and don’t call him he’s a busy man.

-Any other questions? Vicky has one! Michael is not acknowledging it. At all. Then it’s back to his office, where…Shawn calls in and what is going on, Michael? And Michael just starts lying through his god damned teeth about how attempt number 2 is going. You will not be getting an attempt number three if this goes awry, Michael. …Riiiight. Right right right.

-Credits!

…Well that did not go how I expected.

[justsomebucky]

Everything

Summary: AU. Reader rushes to her ex-boyfriend’s side when he’s in an accident.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,733

Warnings: language, angst, referenced car accident/motorcycle accident, hospital, doctors, injury, fluff, more angst, more fluff, drunk driving mention, nothing gory, I’m not a damn doctor okay? Shonda Rhimes taught me this shit.

A/N: This is my last submission for the lovely Erin’s ( @theassetseyeliner) writing challenge. My prompt was #28. “I got into a car crash and you’re still my emergency contact even though you’re my ex.”  Special thanks to @denialanderror and @soldatbarnes for talking me down from the ledge. Gif credit to @whump-they-it-is since tumblr is dumb and it wouldn’t show up in search even though it was perfect. Thank you!

Phone calls are made for all sorts of reasons, even in the era of texting. They bring sad news, happy news, good news, and bad news…

There are also those sorts of calls that change your life, for better or worse. You were in a meeting with Tony Stark and Happy Hogan when you got that sort of call.

Naturally, you didn’t answer.

There were, of course, three valid reasons why you didn’t answer.

The first is that you were in the meeting and didn’t want to be disrespectful. You had just been promoted to Mr. Hogan’s team lead. It was a highly sought-after position since he was Mr. Stark’s top advisor. You weren’t sure it was exactly what you wanted to do, but it was a start.

The second reason was that you didn’t recognize the number. It was bad enough that you used caller ID to screen people you actually knew (even sometimes your family, which you were a little ashamed to admit). Why would you even bother with a total stranger?

The third was probably worst of all, but it was most applicable: you hated talking on the phone. You spent a lot of your time on a phone as it was for business purposes, so personal calls were put on the back-burner. Why call when you could text?

Why text when that person could just leave you alone, you know?

Anyway, you didn’t answer the first time. There was too much at stake during the meeting.

You had worked hard to get where you were. You’d sacrificed so much, you could finally relate to that girl in The Devil Wears Prada (though Happy and Tony were far nicer than her boss). There were missed appointments, disappointed family members at holiday gatherings, and of course the biggest hit to your life…The Breakup.

You were officially alone again, after a year-long relationship came crashing to the ground about six months ago.

Anyway.

The phone rang a second time when you were walking out of the boardroom with the official company timelines in your hands for the construction and completion of a new facility upstate.

You weren’t in charge of these ventures, but you had to be prepared in case Mr. Hogan became indisposed on some other project, which happened a lot at Stark Industries. If Mr. Stark ever had sudden inspiration for something, you better believe Mr. Hogan and Ms. Potts were right there with him, pulled away from everything else they were working on.

You wanted to be that person, too. You wanted the responsibility, the ‘in’ with Tony Stark…you wanted to be worthwhile to the company since you didn’t feel worthwhile anywhere else.

It wasn’t until you were in the quiet safety of your own office that you answered the call on the third attempt. Whoever it was, they were persistent.

You shrugged off your jacket, switching your phone to your other ear as you accepted the call. “Y/N speaking.”

“Hello, this is Dr. Palmer from Memorial Hospital. I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name?”

Memorial Hospital? What the hell?

“It’s Y/N Y/L/N. How can I help you, Dr. Palmer?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, I’ve been trying to reach you because you are listed as the emergency contact for James Barnes. You do know him?”

You froze in your seat, eyes wide as you tried to digest what she just said. That was a name you’d been trying to forget.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Please,” you said softly. “Call me Y/N. Is he…is James okay?”

“I don’t typically like to discuss emergency cases over the phone. I –“

“I get it, Doctor. I’ve been through this before. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You pressed end on the call and stood up, grabbing the jacket you’d just placed on the back of your chair to fend off the chilly air.

Mr. Hogan’s secretary Maria looked up at you as you rushed past. “Where are you going? You have another meeting in three hours!”

“I know,” you called back. “It’s an emergency. I’ll be back!”

Her confused face is the last thing you saw before the elevator doors shut.

“Yes, hi, I’m looking for Dr. Palmer?” You leaned over the information desk in the emergency room, trying not to crawl over it and find the information yourself. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were in a freakin’ hurry.

“Which one?” a nurse whose name tag read Scott Lang asked you. “There’s actually several –“

You shook your head at him. “It was a woman in the ER! She took the case for my boyf- my friend James Barnes. Can you look it up that way?”

“Sure I can.” Scott typed for a second, then furrowed his brows at the computer. “I have a Barnes here, but he’s listed as being in the morgue…oh.” He looked up at you. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that.”

You reeled at his words, taking a few steps back and feeling a little faint. Your limbs felt like jelly.

Was Bucky really…gone?

“Oh wait,” Scott continued, typing again. “That said Barnabes. Sorry, my fault. James Barnes has been moved to a private room on the third floor. You could probably find Dr. Palmer there.”

“Oh my god,” you shouted, seething with anger. A few people passing by stopped to stare at you, but you couldn’t help yourself right now. “You can’t just tell people that their loved ones are dead and then say ‘my fault!’”

“Look, lady, I’m sorry. This is my first day. I screwed up, okay? Please don’t tell my supervisor, I’ve got a kid at home,” Scott pleaded. “I really am sorry.”

It took a second or two, but you managed to get your breathing under control enough to speak at a normal volume. “Fine. What is the room number?”

“Three-ten.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “I won’t say anything, Mr. Lang. But please be a little more careful.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way to the third floor.

Nurses and doctors were rushing around, some with worry etched on their faces, and some laughing and joking with each other. How could so many different emotions be taking place in one building?

Babies were being born just as others were dying mere floors away. It was truly insane to think about.

You slowed down when you got close to his room, and as you peered in you realized no one was in there with him.

But Bucky…

He was laying there on the crisp white hospital sheets with about ten different wires and gadgets attached to him. You glanced up to the heart monitor, where the signal showed a steady, strong beat.

For that you were so very grateful.

You moved closer to the bed, careful not to disturb anything as your eyes raked over him. He had scrapes all over his face and arms, and butterfly bandages over several cuts on his chin and forehead.

“What happened to you?” you whispered, reaching out to brush a strand of his long brown hair back.

“He was in a motorcycle accident.”

Your hand recoiled as you looked up at Dr. Palmer. Either you’d been too focused on Bucky to notice her, or she was super stealthy.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said, reaching her hand out to shake yours.

You felt a little mortified at the fact that you still didn’t quite have full strength back from the little information desk episode. Your hand was clammy and shaking.

“Nice to meet you, too, Dr. Palmer.”

“Please, call me Christine.”

You nodded. “So, an accident? Is he okay?”

Christine flipped a page on the chart. “James is- “

“Bucky,” you interrupted. “He prefers to be called Bucky. It’s a, uh..it’s a nickname.”

“Bucky,” she repeated. “Okay, good to know. Bucky is asleep. We gave him some powerful painkillers after he complained of severe abdomen pain upon arriving at the ER. He’s got some lacerations, contusions, and three bruised ribs. He’s going to have limited mobility for a while. Little things like lifting heavy objects, reaching for things, and vigorous physical activities are not going to be possible until he heals a little.”

You nodded again. “But he’s okay? I mean, no permanent damage, no brain trauma, nothing like that?”

The doctor pressed her lips in a straight line while she glanced over more of the chart. “Actually, when the EMT asked him his name, he remembered, but he also got the date wrong. He thought it was six months ago.”

“Amnesia? Is it permanent?” The thought of Bucky forgetting any part of his life made you nauseated.

“It’s most likely temporary. I’ve seen it before, especially after a quick trauma like this. Could be hours, could be days…maybe more, but not likely. We’re going to have to wait until he wakes back up to determine if there’s any residual effects from a potential concussion.”

“Why would he be allowed to sleep if you thought there might be a concussion?” you asked, frowning at the doctor. “I’ve had them, and the first thing they told me was to not go to sleep.”

“And the first thing you did was?”

“Sleep,” you admitted.

Christine nodded. “The body knows how to heal itself in most cases, Y/N. We didn’t believe there was any major brain trauma when he was brought in, and his first scans showed no signs of swelling or bleeding. He had been wearing his helmet thankfully. So, we wait until he wakes up.”

“What exactly happened in the accident? In case he can’t remember but wants to know?”

“The police said a drunk driver ran a red light,” she explained. “They knocked him off his motorcycle onto the hood of their car. He’s lucky that was all. If he had landed on the pavement or been thrown elsewhere, we’d be discussing a situation way worse than this.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes flickered back to Bucky’s sleeping form. “So with those injuries, how long will he be kept here?”

“Probably just overnight, to be honest.”

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you tried to process all of this. Bucky could have died.

He could have died.

Christine started walking backwards toward the door. “I have other patients to see, but if you need me just press the call button.”

“Thank you.”

You grabbed one of the chairs from the corner and dragged it closer to the bed, sitting still for a moment while you stared at his face. The sound of him breathing with oxygen tubes up his nose was sort of weird. It reminded you of how deeply he used to sleep when he was beside you at night.

“Your hair’s longer,” you murmured, leaning forward. “And you need a shave, Buck.”

The realization that he could wake up at any second and find you here fawning over him made you a little bit uncomfortable, but when would you get another opportunity to say what you were thinking without him arguing back?

“I have no idea why you kept me on as your emergency contact. In fact, you probably forgot all about it. I don’t think you’d want me here…not after everything we said to each other. We argued about everything…money…schedules…we found a way to be angry. It wasn’t healthy.”

You sighed, shifting back in your seat a little as you let your eyes drift to the ceiling. “Maybe it’s for the best that we broke up. I only seemed to make you miserable.”

Little patterns of grey and white speckled the ceiling tiles. You hated that Bucky would wake up and the first thing he’d look at would be these ugly tiles. He should be home, safe in bed…not here.

“I know I put work first a lot. It’s dumb but…Bucky, you’re so successful, you know? You worked hard to get where you are and I didn’t want to be the one leeching from you. I wanted to establish myself…”

The whirring sound of the air being circulated was your only response.

This was actually really therapeutic for you. Maybe the two of you could have made it had you bothered to stop yelling and actually listen. You were just as much at fault about that as Bucky was.

Oh well.

“Was it worth it? I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, your voice catching a little. “I feel like the breakup made me wake up a little, you know? I feel like…it’s that old stupid saying, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

Being honest and vulnerable wasn’t really your thing. That’s probably why this was easier with Bucky asleep.

“I thought that working even more hours and distracting myself would help, but it hasn’t. I still love you, after all…I loved you then. I wanted to be with you. I assumed I was doing enough, and we broke up anyway.”

Good thing he was a heavy sleeper.

“I didn’t want to lose you. It’s my fault.” Your voice had gone down to a whisper again, eyes filling with tears as you finally said it out loud. The ugly ceiling tiles blurred into one big ugly blob. You blinked a few times, causing the tears to roll from your eyes down your cheeks, where you wiped them away quickly.

No one needed to see that.

“I guess, if I had to say something to you without you knowing, it would be that I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Your eyes widened and you sat back up at the sound of Bucky’s soft, raspy voice. His eyes were still closed and his brow was furrowed.

“How long were you awake?” you asked, your tone more accusatory than you intended.

“Long enough.” Bucky’s blue-grey eyes struggled to open from his medicated haze. He blinked a few times, focusing on the awful wallpaper across from him, then shifted his gaze to you.

You wanted to hide from him. You felt stupid for assuming he was sleeping this whole time, stupid for revealing your deepest thoughts to the one person who should have heard them six months ago, long before the two of you ended things.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Your leg started shaking involuntarily and you tried to shift to a more comfortable position, as if there was one. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Don’t go back in your little shell. I get that you- “

You watched with wide eyes as he grimaced in pain. “Should I get a nurse?”

Bucky turned his head slightly. “Not yet. Can I get- is there water?”

There was a little pink pitcher and plastic cup sitting on the table beside his head, so you stood up and poured a half-glass of water for him, holding it to his lips as he took a sip.

“Thank you.”

Since you were already up, maybe now was the time to exit. “They told me that you had to stay overnight, Buck, so I should probably go. I’ve got another meeting to get to, and I…” Your voice trailed off as you realized he was chuckling.

“Oh, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that. Your ribs are bruised.”

“It’s just too classic, Y/N. You running out on me for work. Give Mr. Stark my regards.”

Your mouth dropped open. “You want to do this here? Bucky, you nearly died today. I don’t want to fight.”

“Then sit down and finish telling me what you tried to when you thought I was asleep.”

The two of you had a stare down for a second, but you eventually relented, sitting back in the uncomfortable chair.

“What did you hear?” you asked again.

“That you didn’t want to lose me, and that you were sorry. But even the doctor said that I wasn’t really hurt, you know. You aren’t gonna lose me. Close call or not, I’m still kicking.”

He thought you meant lose him to death.

Well, that too, but…what a silly man.

“I didn’t mean lose you specifically today, though that would have been…let’s not even talk about that. I meant lose you back then, six months ago when we broke up. And I am sorry, by the way. I did mean that sincerely.”

Bucky looked confused. “What are you talking about? None of this makes sense…I thought I was the one who bumped my head?”

Dr. Palmer’s words about possible amnesia as a side effect of a concussion came back to you.

“Bucky, what is today’s date?”

He made a face at you. “They already asked me that in the ER. It’s May something. I was always bad with dates.”

“It’s November, Buck,” you murmured, frowning at him. “I need to find the doctor.”

Steve Rogers enveloped you in a big hug the second he laid eyes on you in the waiting room. “How’s Bucky?”

You pulled back, letting your arms fall to your sides. “He’s got some cuts and bruises…he bruised three ribs. He seems to have a concussion.”

“Wow, he got lucky,” he commented, leaning against the wall.

The two of you were standing outside the waiting room door, far enough out of earshot of Bucky’s room that you could discuss things freely.

You had to tell Steve the truth.

“The doctor said he’s got a bit of temporary amnesia.” You looked at Steve, concentrating on his bright, warm eyes to stop from crying again. “At least, they think it’s temporary.”

Steve’s face fell. “Oh, no. How long of a time frame has he forgotten?”

“Six months.”

Understanding flashed in his eyes. “So he doesn’t remember that the two of you broke up, does he?”

“No,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. “It could be from a concussion, could be from the meds they gave…a specialist is with him now.”

“How are you holding up, Y/N?”

You glanced back up at him. “I’m supposed to be back at work here in about twenty minutes. Do you think you could sit with him through dinner?”

“Sure, I don’t mind at all.”

“I’m surprised you weren’t his emergency contact.”

Steve gave you a look. “I’m not.”

When you didn’t reply, he kept talking.

“Y/N, Bucky never does anything without good reason. So that means there’s a good reason why he left you on the call list.”

“But we broke –“

“It doesn’t matter. That love doesn’t just disappear,” he told you gently, reaching up to brush an errant tear off your cheek. “He still had hope that the two of you would reconcile.”

You turned away from Steve, glancing down the hallway toward room three-ten. “Does it matter? If all we were was angry, does it matter?”

“I think it does. You both were hurt, and learning together how to be in a mature partnership. You’ve grown a lot since this, haven’t you?”

“I- I guess?”

Steve’s mouth lifted a little. “Come on. Give yourself some credit. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t, knowing full well that it could lead to something uncomfortable. You can’t tell that the thought of reconciling didn’t cross your mind, at least since you spoke with him?”

Well, when he put it that way…

“And Bucky’s grown, that I’m sure of,” he continued. “He’s tried to become better at listening. He’s working on himself, too.”

“That’s…that’s good.”

“It is.” Steve reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “He’ll remember eventually, and the two of you can talk it out at the very least. But you’re here, Y/N, and that says everything in my opinion.”

You nodded, pulling Steve in for another hug. “Why are you so smart all the time?”

“I’m just observant,” he replied, kissing the top of your head gently. He pulled back and gave you a little push down the hallway. “Now go to your meeting. We’ll be fine.”

Happy and Tony kept you longer than you expected, though Pepper was missing in action for the first half of the meeting.

When she walked in, the first thing she did was sit beside you and offer you a smile. There was something in her eyes that you’d never seen directed at you before, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“So Y/N, when do you think you can make the trip upstate?”

“The, uh…the trip?” You were confused; no one had ever mentioned you taking a work trip.

“Yes,” Happy said, sounding a little irritated. “It’s in the itinerary on your desk. I take it you never made it back to your office from your emergency?”

“I didn’t tell Maria to put it on her desk,” Pepper spoke up, pushing a file in front of you. “And she isn’t going upstate, Happy, that’s currently your job if I remember correctly. I was nosy and read over Y/N’s proposals from the beginning of the year, and I loved almost all of them. There are a few I want to get started on right away. She’d waste away on some construction site upstate.”

He looked completely baffled. “But –“

“No buts, you heard her,” Tony said, clearly enjoying himself. He grinned at Happy. “Better get packing, pal.”

Happy grumbled to himself the entire time from the chair, to the doorway, and all the way down the hall from what you could hear.

“So uh, what’s the word?”

Your eyes flitted back to Tony’s. “I’m sorry?”

“The person in the ER. He okay?”

Pepper gave you an apologetic smile. “I called to have flowers sent after Maria told me. She was worried about you. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “He’s not that bad off. Cuts and bruises, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Tony said, glancing at Pepper.

“Tony’s been in a lot of accidents,” she told you, rubbing your back. “He seems to think he’s invincible.”

“Incredible is the word you’re looking for, darling.”

Pepper chose to ignore him. “Listen, we discussed it and we want you to take some time off. Go be with him until he’s well again.”

“But he’s…but what about –“

“Happy’s taking over the projects permanently, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tony interrupted, pushing his glasses up his nose. “He’s going to be upstate for the remainder of the construction and development. I’m reassigning you to Pepper’s team, where your hours won’t be nearly as long because she’s a bleeding heart softy.”

What the what?

“That means I’m your new boss,” Pepper added, smirking at Tony before giving you a warm smile. “And I say take all the time you need. When you come back, we’re gonna start on some of the projects you had in mind, okay?”

Was this real life?

“Thank you.” You tried not to get too excited and emotional. “I can’t even begin to thank you both enough.”

“Actually, you can,” Tony countered, giving a little shrug. “By coming back and kicking some major ass.”

You were full-on grinning now. “That I can definitely do.”

Four hours had gone by. It had been four hours since you left Steve to sit with Bucky.

By the time you got back to the hospital, you felt like you had entered the Twilight Zone or something. Nothing was making sense, but you weren’t about to question your sudden good fortune at work.

And you weren’t about to squander this second chance they’d given you to make things right, even if it just meant repairing your friendship.

Steve was still sitting in the chair beside Bucky, though you could tell he was tired and wanted to leave.

“Go home to Nat,” you said, giving him a smile. “I’ve got this.”

He said goodnight to you both and took off, leaving you alone with your ex-boyfriend.

“So, while you were gone, a funny thing happened.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, as if waiting for you to guess.

You didn’t need more than one guess. With a knowing sigh, you flopped into that wonderfully uncomfortable chair once again. “Your memory came back?”

Bucky nodded. “Steve mentioned something to me that sounded familiar but not. Ever have that happen? Where you can practically feel the answer on the tip of your tongue but you aren’t quite there?”

“I guess?”

“Anyways, he brought up maybe asking Natasha to marry him. And I thought to myself, wait a minute…they just met, didn’t they? Turns out, they met about a year ago, halfway through our relationship.”

You waited for the hammer to fall.

Bucky looked down at his hands for a second. There was something in his palm, something he was turning over and over.

When he looked back up at you, he also held up the object.

It was a diamond ring.

“I’m confused,” you said, unable to tear your eyes away from the ring. “Is that for Natasha? Why do you have it?”

“Y/N, if this was truly six months ago like my brain tried to tell me, I’d have given you this by now.” He turned the ring a little so you could see it better. “They found it after the accident, still stuck in my wallet where I’ve been keeping it all this time.”

“What?” you whispered, feeling your own hands started to shake. This was all news to you.

Holy shit…what a mess.

“Yeah, I found it in this bag of my personal effects over there on the nightstand,” he said, nodding to the table where his water cup sat. “I stared at it for a minute. And after that, I remembered everything.”

Your eyes met his again, unsure of how to react.

“Say something,” he pleaded, lowering his hand and gripping the ring in his palm again.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” Your eyes filled with those damned tears again, something that happened more today than it had since the week you broke up. “I fucked up.”

“I fucked up, too, Y/N. We both had issues.”

You nodded, looking down while tears slipped off your chin and landed on your jeans.

“I feel like this is a second chance for us, though,” Bucky added in a softer tone. “Don’t you?”

This time when you met his gaze, and all the fight…the walls he put back up…all of it was gone. It was just Bucky, your Bucky, with a hopeful light in his eyes.

“Bucky,” you began, feeling your resolve slip a little. “We fought before. What makes you think we won’t now?”

“Maybe we just had to grow up a little.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and the hand not clutching the ring reached for yours.

You let him grasp your hand, giving his a little squeeze in return. “Maybe.”

“And you can’t tell me you didn’t miss me, Y/N. I mean, you rushed here, worried about me, and it wasn’t because we’re friends.”

“No,” you admitted, trying and failing to hide your own smile. “It wasn’t that.”

“So we try again. This time, we stop to listen to each other. This time we work things out before letting it escalate to anger and resentment. I’m guilty of it, too, and…well, if you wanted to try, I promise I’d try harder.”

“Can I ask you…why did you leave me on as your emergency contact?” You bit your lip, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

He probably just forgot.

Bucky gave you a big smile. “You think I’d want Steve’s mug to be the first one I see after something like this?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling at his joke. Even when he was in pain, he was always trying to make someone else laugh.

His smile faded as he watched you. “No, seriously, Y/N. In a real emergency, I can’t think of anyone I’d want to be here with me more than you. And that…”

Now Bucky was blinking rapidly, trying to keep his composure. You didn’t need to hear the end of his sentence to understand his sentiment.

You stood and leaned over, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips.

That was everything.

That’s what Bucky had been about to say.

You understood, because that’s how you felt, too.

“Hold on to that ring, then,” you instructed, giving him a bright smile. “Because if we’re giving this another go, I’m not letting you get away this time.”

His eyes were mischievous again. “Did you learn how to get what you want from Tony Stark?“

“Pepper Potts, actually.”

You shut him up with another kiss.

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (8/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.) 

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and also will accompany later chapters. Thanks to the CSBB mods (@sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 8

The sound of softly beeping machines reached Emma’s ears as she walked into Killian’s hospital room. He wore a light blue hospital gown and was tucked in securely under a plain white blanket. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes casting shadows across his cheeks, but as soon as she neared the bedside he opened his eyes and smiled.

“What’s the news, Swan?”

“Doctor Whale tells me other than the cracked ribs and a few bruises, you’re in decent shape for a man who was hit by a car.” She pulled a chair over and sat down at his side.

“I’m a survivor. Nothing can keep me down for long.” He tried to wink at her.

“Seriously, Killian, I can’t thank you enough for what you did back there. If you hadn’t pushed Henry out of the way—”

“Anyone would have done the same, had they been close enough. I was just in the right place at the right time.” He pulled his arms out from under the covers and tried to lever himself into more of a sitting position, wincing in pain as he did so.

“Ugh, Killian, stop.” Emma picked up the bed controller and pushed the button to elevate the head of the bed. “I don’t think anyone would have done the same.”

“Well,” he said, flashing her a wicked smile and bringing his finger to his lower lip. “Perhaps gratitude is in order now.”

Emma laughed. “How about when you’re feeling better, I take you out for coffee?”

His face fell a little bit. “I’m only joking, Swan; you don’t owe me anything, and I certainly wouldn’t want you to go out with me out of a sense of obligation.”

“I’m not. I just….want to. Is that okay?”

“As soon as I’m mobile again, yes. But allow me to plan the date.”

“I know how to plan a date!” she protested, frowning.

“You know how to chase bad guys. I know how to plan an evening out.”

“Okay whatever, Casanova.” She pointed to his forearm. “What’s the tattoo?” He’d briefly turned his arm and she’d caught sight of a heart with a dagger through it, along with a name.

He hid his arm under the blanket self-consciously, not letting her get a better look. “Just a memorial to an old love, darling. Nothing more.” He shifted in the bed, wincing in pain again. “Bloody hell, that hurts.”

Standing up, Emma awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “You think you’re in pain; I have to go back to the sheriff’s station now and write up an accident report for all of this. Did they say when they’re releasing you?”

“Tomorrow, most likely.”

“That’s good news.” She hesitated before leaving him. “Feel better, Killian.”

He raised his prosthetic hand. “See you later, Swan.”

She let the door swing shut behind her, standing there in the hospital hallway and trying not to think too hard about the fact that she’d arranged to go on a date with Killian Jones. She had absolutely sworn to herself that she had no interest in him romantically (yeah right, Emma), had sworn that getting involved with him was a terrible idea. It was. It was a terrible idea. So why was she biting her lip to suppress the smile that was threatening to burst out over her face?

“Sheriff Swan, how are you?”

Blinking, she looked up and saw Archie, Henry’s therapist.

“Hey, Archie.”

“You here because of Mr. Jones?” he asked, indicating the door.

“Yeah, he pushed Henry out of the way of a car this afternoon, and… wait, are you here for Killian?”

“I was called in for a psych consult. The emergency room doctors reported he exhibited a high level of anxiety when they brought him in. Said some things that concerned them.”

Emma frowned. “What kind of things?”

“I’m afraid I can’t go into any detail,” Archie said, and it occurred to her that he’d probably said way more than he should have anyway.

“Well, he got hit by a car, wouldn’t that make anybody anxious?” Emma said, feeling defensive on Killian’s behalf.

“I’m sure it won’t do him any harm for me to at least talk to him,” Archie said.

“Yeah. Actually, now that you mention it, he has mentioned insomnia and nightmares to me.” Perhaps seeing a psychologist wasn’t the worst idea, she thought. Maybe Killian could even get a handle on his drinking if he got into therapy.

“Just now?” Archie asked.

“No, another time.” She shrugged. “A few days ago.”

“Thank you for the insight, Emma. I truly appreciate it.” Emma stepped out of the way, and Archie pushed his way through the door into Killian’s room.

~*~

“This is a waste of time. It’s been two months since the murder.” Emma kicked at the dead leaves on the ground. “I’ve combed over this part of the forest so often at this point, I’ve got it memorized. If there were any more clues, I’d have found them before now.” They’d been going over the scene of the crime for almost half an hour. Her nose and ears were numb with the cold, and it was making her grouchy.

David was crouched down where Emma had indicated the body had once lain, scrutinizing the forest floor. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He gave her a half-smile. “You just looked like you needed to get out of the office.”

She sighed. “Maybe. Not that it helps me with my latest Regina problem.”

“Regina problem?” He dug around under the leafy ground cover, his gloved hand getting muddy in the process. The ground was damp with recently melted snow.

“As soon as she heard that Henry had been with me when he almost got hit by a car, she demanded that I never see him again.”

“Hasn’t she said stuff like that before?” David asked. Off of her raised eyebrow, he admitted, “Mary Margaret may have mentioned it.”

“I’m not sure you guys are making the best use of your stolen moments together, talking about me and my problems. And yeah she has, but this time she really means it. She’s picking him up directly from school every day, so I can’t meet him at Granny’s for an afternoon snack anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Emma. Not getting to spend time with your child — I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

Emma jammed her hands in her pockets, prodded a tree root with her foot and shrugged. “I gave him up, David, and she’s legally his mother. I don’t know what I can do.” She watched as the toe of her boot sank into the rich soil.

He stood up. “I should probably give Killian a call, see if he wants me to pick him up something to eat.”

Whirling on him, Emma’s eyes widened. “How’s, um… how’s he doing? He came home from the hospital yesterday, right?”

David nodded. “He’s in a fair amount of pain, but otherwise I think he’s okay.”

“Will you tell him I was thinking about him?” she said, then blushed and shook her head. “No, don’t say that. Don’t tell him anything. Forget I said that.”

He smirked. “Do you want me to pass him a note in fourth period?”

“Shut up.” She kicked the tree root again more forcefully, or she tried to, but she missed and her toe collided with the tree trunk itself.

“Ow, fuck,” she said, hopping a little on her good foot.

David walked over and patted the tree gently. “She didn’t mean it, tree. She’s just cranky.” Then something appeared to catch his eye in the leaves piled on the ground, and he bent over. “What the hell?”

Emma limped over and looked at what David had picked up: a silver ring on a broken chain. “I wonder where that came from?”

He shrugged. “I happened to see a glimpse of it, buried in the leaves.”

Taking the chain from him, she examined the broken ends, the way the tiny links had been ripped apart. “You don’t think this could have come from our murderer? Ripped off in a struggle with Gold?”

“Could be. I don’t know if there’s any way to tell.”

Emma pocketed it. “Maybe I can find a way to use it, if I can ever get an actual suspect. Let’s head back to the station.”

They started to make their way to Gold’s cabin where the cruiser was parked. Emma winced at the sharp pain in her toe, trying not to limp so that David would notice.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you limping,” he said.

Shit. “I’m fine.”

He ignored that, putting an arm around her and steering her over to a fallen log. “Sit down and let me take a look.”

“No, David, let’s get back to the car. We’re almost there.”

He met her gaze, calm and impassive and brooking no argument. “Sit down, and let me take a look.”

Emma huffed. “Fine.” She gingerly settled herself on the log and stuck her booted foot out for him. He knelt down, easing the boot off and murmuring an apology when she hissed in pain.

“Wiggle your toes for me,” he said. Emma did as he asked. “How badly does that hurt?”

“Not too bad,” she said, her eyes gazing off into the forest. She could see the edge of the clearing where Gold’s cabin was, and beyond it— “What the hell is that?”

“Do you feel a scraping inside your toe?” David said, his face etched with worry. “Because that—”

“No, not my toe. That.” She pointed. From her vantage point, she could see a part of the dirt track that led between the main road and Gold’s cabin, and in the midst of a cluster of shrubbery, she could make out what looked like part of a car bumper.

“Is that a car?” David asked.

“Put my boot back on and let’s check it out.”

“I’m not done—”

“My toe is fine; I’ve had a broken toe before and this one isn’t. Put my boot back on,” Emma said.

Once David had done as she instructed, they made their way toward the car; carefully in case anyone was around. But it very quickly became clear that the car had been there for a long time. “This is Tom Clark’s car,” Emma said as she pushed the low branches aside to reveal more of the hidden vehicle.

“What?”

“Mr. Clark reported his car stolen the day after Graham died. It hasn’t exactly been my top priority, to be honest, but it was another open case. And now here it is, hidden near Gold’s cabin.”

David made a face. “You don’t think… Tom murdered Gold?”

Emma couldn’t help it; she burst into giggles. “I mean, I’m not ruling it out, but…” She opened the driver’s door and knelt down, holding up the wires that had been ripped out from underneath the dash and were hanging down. “No, someone hotwired this car, probably to follow Gold out here, and then abandoned it.” She stood up and brushed off her jeans.

“We’re getting closer, Emma. I know you’ve had your doubts, but I really believe you’re going to solve this thing.”

Emma grinned, the pain in her toe barely noticeable now. “Me too.”

~*~

Juggling a large pizza box and a six-pack of beer, Emma knocked on the door, then immediately felt guilty and opened the door a crack. “I can let myself in, you don’t have to get up!” she called out.

Killian came shuffling into view, dressed in a thin long-sleeved t-shirt and track pants, his feet bare. “It’s fine, Swan, it’s better if I move around a little bit.” He took the beer from her and motioned for her to come into the apartment. “As I said on the phone, you really didn’t have to bring me food.”

She set the pizza down on his small kitchen table. “I know I didn’t have to, but David mentioned he was bringing you something to eat yesterday and I thought…” She shrugged. “Shit, you probably can’t drink with the painkillers you’re taking, can you?”

He moved gingerly to the refrigerator, setting the beer inside and then pulling two bottles out. “I’ve stopped taking them, so the beer is fine.” He handed her one of the bottles, then popped the cap off of his with an old-fashioned bottle opener that was mounted on the wall. The cap dropped into a little bucket below with Coca-Cola inscribed on it in flowing and familiar cursive.

“You’ve stopped taking them? Isn’t it too soon to stop taking them?” Emma popped the top off her own bottle, stepping close to Killian to do so. She could feel the heat from his body as she brought the bottle to her lips. Fuck, she thought, she’d been in his presence a grand total of one minute and her body was already humming like a live wire.

Killian shrugged. “They were making my nightmares worse.” He took a drink, the muscles of his neck moving as he swallowed. It was infuriatingly distracting, and Emma took a step backward, out of his personal space. “It’s hardly the worst pain I’ve experienced,” he said, lifting his prosthetic hand.

“No, I guess not,” Emma said, trying not to imagine what losing a hand would feel like. “Probably not as bad as childbirth either.”

With a chuckle, Killian turned to the cabinet and got down plates. “I very much doubt it.” She could see his teeth clench in pain as he moved.

“Let me get that,” Emma said, reaching to take the plates, her fingers brushing against his as she did so. “Should we take the pizza to the sofa? Where would you be most comfortable?”

Killian visibly relaxed a little. “Yeah, the sofa would be good.”

Emma put a couple of slices on each plate and followed him into his living room. There was a collection of water glasses and mugs of half-finished tea on his coffee table, along with a haphazard stack of books, and Emma resolved to help him clean up before she left.

Killian sat down with an audible groan. “Bugger.”

She handed him his pizza, sitting as far away from him as the sofa allowed. “I wish I could do something to make you feel better,” and then immediately blushed as a dirty grin unfurled on his face. “How about we forget I said that.”

“Your company is a balm to my wounds, love. No additional favors are required.”

The sincerity on his face filled her chest with a bloom of warmth, and Emma felt herself smiling. She took a bite of her pizza. “So how long will it be before your ribs are healed?”

“Four to six weeks is what the doctor told me. In the meantime, I’m supposed to stay active but not lift anything heavy. And I’m supposed to breathe as deeply as I can, even though it hurts like the dickens to do so.”

Emma frowned in confusion. “Why do you have to breathe deeply?”

“It prevents lung infection, apparently.”

“Oh.” She sipped her beer. “Listen, Henry feels terrible about what happened. So do I. If I hadn’t upset him, then he wouldn’t—”

“Children make mistakes, Swan. I assure you, I hold no ill will against either of you. I’m just glad I was there.” He took a bite of his slice and smiled. “But I won’t say no to free food,” he mumbled.

They ate in silence for a while, Emma realizing that it was probably a good thing he wasn’t healthy enough for sex (hearing that last part in a pharmaceutical commercial announcer voice), because otherwise she’d be tempted to jump him right here on his sofa.

“Can I get you more pizza?” she asked when his plate was empty.

“No, I’m fine, love.” He set the plate on his overflowing coffee table and reclined back, still nursing his beer. “So tell me a story, Emma Swan.”

She laughed. “A story? Like ‘Once upon a time…’”

“No, something about yourself.” He pointed to the side of his chest. “Tell me about your most dramatic injury.”

“Well, I don’t have anything to rival getting hit by a car, and I still have all my limbs, so…”

“Come on, Swan,” he whined. “I’m in pain; entertain me.”

She sighed. “Okay. When I was eight, I broke my arm.”

“How did you do that?”

“I was on the swings on the school playground, swinging by myself. Pumping my legs to go higher and higher. And when I got as high as I thought I could possibly go, right as I got to the top of the… you know—” She mimed the path of a swing with her hand.

“The arc?”

“Yeah. Right at the top, I jumped.”

Killian’s eyes widened. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I don’t know, I think I thought I would—”

“Fly?” he asked with a smirk.

“No, not fly, but I thought I would… I don’t know, follow this graceful path to the ground.” She laughed. “It wasn’t graceful. I landed on my arm and heard this snapping sound. I’ll never forget that sound.” She shuddered. “So I got a cast which no one signed, and my foster family was pissed at me for getting hurt because it cost them money.”

Killian’s expression turned sad. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to unearth a unhappy memory.”

Emma waved off his concern. “It’s no big deal. Most of my childhood memories are sad, to be honest.” She searched for something to lighten the mood and came up empty. “So, what do they do with broken ribs? Do you have, like, a brace on or something?”

Shaking his head, Killian lifted his shirt. Her eyes were greeted with a Rorschach test of bruising on the side of his chest, but it was easy to look beyond that to see the nice shape of his muscles and the line of hair down his abdomen. “Apparently they don’t do that anymore,” he said, and then committed the crime of dropping his shirt back down into place. Emma swallowed on a suddenly dry throat and gulped down the rest of her beer.

“Can I get you another one?” Killian asked.

“No,” she jumped up. “I should probably get going and let you rest.” Gesturing toward the kitchen, she added, “I’ll wrap up the rest of the pizza for you and put it away.”

Killian followed her to the kitchen, getting a roll of foil out and handing it to her. “If you haven’t thought better of going on a date with me, I should be mended enough the weekend after this coming to make a go of it, if you want.” His attempt at nonchalance was poor, and Emma smiled, her back turned as she wrapped up the pizza slices.

“I haven’t thought better of it. Are you sure that’s not too soon for your ribs, though?”

“As long as I don’t have to pick you up and carry you somewhere, Swan, I should be able to manage.”

She stuck the pizza in the fridge and then went out to the living room to gather up all the dirty dishes from his coffee table. “You don’t have to do that,” he said, a pained expression on his face.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s a small thing. Just shut up and let me help you.”

“Yes, your highness.”

~*~

“I didn’t even know Storybrooke had a restaurant this nice,” Emma said as they followed the host to their table. In truth, it wasn’t anything that special: checkered table clothes and ordinary pasta dishes with cheap bottles of Chianti, or so it appeared; it certainly didn’t compare to the upscale places she’d seen in Boston. But it was a huge improvement over Granny’s, and right now that was really all she cared about.

“I told you I know how to plan a date,” Killian said, his hand resting lightly on her back as she was ushered to her seat. She watched as he removed his leather jacket and slung it over the back of his chair before sitting down gingerly, a little twinge of pain flashing across his face the only evidence of his injury. He’d assured her that while his ribs were still healing, he was certainly capable of sitting in a chair and eating a meal with her.

Killian’s usual long-sleeved black t-shirt and blue jeans had been replaced with a nice button-down shirt and a vest, and he wore new-looking black jeans instead of the usual faded denim. Also, he smelled good, and Emma caught herself staring as he sat down, the sudden image of burying her nose in the crook of his neck making her shift in her seat.

Mary Margaret had been entirely too excited about Emma’s date, offering her a pale pink dress to borrow which Emma had stuck her tongue out in distaste at. She’d opted for her usual jeans and boots, but topped it with a slightly more feminine sweater than she usually wore, although its scooped neckline was making her a bit uncomfortable now, her hand drifting to her own neck to fidget with the charm on her necklace as she studied the menu and tried to think of something to say.

“I don’t really do this,” she said.

“Order food in restaurants?”

“Date.”

“Present evidence to the contrary.” He slid down in his seat, elbow on the table and his face propped against one finger. “You mentioned that to me before, that you don’t date. Why is that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s seemed… pointless most of the time, I guess.”

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked.

“Wow, extremely personal questions right off the bat, then,” Emma muttered. The waiter approached them. “Can I get an old fashioned, please?” Killian also ordered a drink, and the waiter nodded and left them alone once again.

“Well?” he asked.

Emma huffed. “Why don’t you tell me if you’ve ever been in love?”

“Yes, I have,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

“With the woman whose name is on your arm? Your tattoo?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. Milah.” He took a sip of water. “She died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He gave her a tight smile. “It was a long time ago.”

“What happened?”

“An accident.”

“The same accident where you lost your hand?” she blurted out, then grimaced. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay, Swan. Yes, it was the same accident.”

The waiter arrived with their drinks, and they placed their orders. Silence settled.

“So, okay. Yes, maybe I’ve been in love.” She took a sip of her drink. “Once.”

“Henry’s father?” Killian asked. She narrowed her eyes, looking for a hint of judgment: there was always judgment when people discussed her teenage pregnancy. She saw none.

“Yeah. His name was Neal.” She couldn’t believe she was telling this story before the entrees even arrived. “We met when I tried to steal his car with him sleeping inside it.”

Killian laughed. “I thought there might be a little bit of pirate in you, Swan.”

“Also it was a car he’d stolen, so it was a match made in hell or something. We ran around together for a while, stealing to get by, and I think I was in love.”

Killian rolled a measure of rum around in his mouth before swallowing it. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

She considered lying to him, but it felt good to unburden herself for some reason. “He’d stolen some watches, and I agreed to pick them up for him, and I got caught. Ended up in prison for almost a year. That’s where I was when I found out I was pregnant.”

Killian’s eyes were wide. “Surely if he had taken responsibility for the watches, you would have gone free.”

She chuckled darkly. “He set me up to take the fall. I never saw him again.”

“My God, Swan.”

“Yeah, and that’s just one of the shitty stories of my shitty life.” She raised her glass in a mock toast. “He doesn’t know Henry even exists, which is a small relief.”

“Does Henry know?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I mean, he knows I was in jail when he was born, thanks to the newspaper. But no, he doesn’t know that his father was a deadbeat who left me literally holding the bag.” She grimaced. “I told him his dad was a firefighter and a hero.”

Killian reached across the table and put his hand over hers. “Sometimes lying is the kindest thing you can do.”

Emma looked into his too-blue eyes, felt herself drowning a little bit in them. “Yeah, I guess.”

The conversation turned lighter after that, as the alcohol and the sharing of secrets relaxed them. The dinner seemed to pass in a flash, and Emma would have been hard-pressed to remember what she ate. Everything was him and his smile and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The way he drummed his fingers on the table and the little thatch of chest hair she could see above his unbuttoned shirt collar.

He walked her home; the slow, meandering walk of people who didn’t particularly want to get where they were going. She walked on his left side, and when he stuck his elbow out in a ridiculously chivalrous gesture, she linked her arm with his. The chill of the evening gave her an excuse to press herself against his warm, solid presence.

“Well, not bad,” she said as they climbed the stairs to her apartment. “You actually managed to make me forget that there’s a murderer on the loose.” Emma turned to face Killian at the door.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said, smiling shyly at her.

“I’d invite you in for coffee, but Mary Margaret is home, so…” She was somehow simultaneously disappointed and relieved by that fact. It was probably for the best, taking any temptation to invite him into her apartment off the table. The way she was feeling tonight, there was no telling what she would do.

“That’s quite all right. I suppose we’ll have to wait until next time.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Next time? I don’t remember asking,” she said, aware of how rapidly her heart was beating.

Killian stepped closer, close enough that she could almost feel his breath on her face. “That’s because it’s my turn. Will you go out with me again?”

A part of her wanted to say no, because Emma Swan didn’t date, and Emma Swan definitely didn’t date seductive, mysterious guys who drank too much and slept too little. A part of her wanted to say yes, because he was charming and funny and very possibly the sexiest man that she’d ever stood this close to. All of her wanted to kiss him. So that’s what she did.

Her mouth gravitated toward his, pulled in before she had consciously made the decision to kiss him. She felt his head tilt, felt the brush of his nose against the apple of her cheek, and then his lips were on hers, slow and gentle. She opened her mouth enough to pull at his bottom lip, and felt a rush of heat as he responded, as his fingers carefully touched the back of her neck and his other arm wrapped around her to pull her closer.

Emma had always liked kissing, liked the feeling of another pair of soft lips against her own, liked the wetness of it and infinite variations of the way it could go, with tongues and lips and teeth. Liked the way it could take a tiny ember of desire and fan it into a roaring fire. But as Killian’s tongue worked against hers, as she felt her face flush and her knees weaken under this onslaught of sensation, she started to wonder if she’d ever been kissed quite like this before. His back was firm under her hands, and the way he kissed made her wonder if he’d be as good at other things he could do with his mouth as he was at kissing. She started to keenly regret that Mary Margaret was on the other side of her apartment door.

The kiss gradually slowed, and Emma was embarrassed at how breathless she was, although it seemed he was the same, the way he panted against her mouth as they stood there, not quite ready to get out of each other’s personal space. Reluctantly, she finally pulled away, taking in the bloom of color high on Killian’s cheeks.

“That was…”

Emma couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah.” She reached for the doorknob. “Goodnight, Killian.”

“Goodnight.”

Chapter 9

[arawynnsrpblog]

FAQ

1) Why don’t you continue the RP?

There are several reasons I might not continue our RP within some minutes. Some reasons (might be added):

I went to bed after my last answer because in my timezone it’s bedtime.

I’m not at Tumblr because of several reasons (food, chatting with my family, grocery shopping, appointments etc.)

I’m thinking about what to write to continue - sometimes it’s difficult to figure out how to continue.

I’ve got problems to clothe my imaginated continuation in words (english is my second language, it sometimes gets in the way...)

I’m not happy with what I’ve written until now so I take some time without looking at it to gain enough distance so I can properly edit it. (I have high expectations and want to produce good content so you have a good basis to start from)

I haven’t had the time for it yet (I’m working at a full-time job, including lunch break and travel-time I’m out of the house 11 hours a day.)

I’m on my mobile (traveling). I don’t like writing on a touch keybord and once more - second language so you’ll have to wait until I have a proper keybord again.

Somebody else I also RP with has continued our RP before you did and I try to proceed that plot. I want to handle the RPs as chronologically as possible in order not to forget anybody.

My migraine is acting up so I’m not able to write properly/I don’t want to write some crappy shit while having an attack.

I simply have no idea how to continue our rp at the moment and need some time to come up with a proper idea.

Tumblr ate the note that you answered. We all know how hungry this site is for all kinds of notes.

I’m having a writer’s rush for one of my fanfics and want to enjoy/use it as long as it lasts.

I have more than one idea how to continue and try to figure out which one I’ll write. Or if there’s a way to use both.

Either my internet or Tumblr aren’t working. I’ll try to let you know if this happens.

I don’t have a pc/laptop right now. I hate writing on touch keybords so I won’t continue a rp with it. I’ll let you know how long this forced hiatus will probably last.

I’m on vacation. Once again - I will let you know beforehand.

I simply don’t feel like rping. (I’m sure everyone of us has one of those days.)

I’m upset/angry etc. I tend to back down from conversations in this case, especially in the internet because I know the inhibition level to say hurtful comments is lower here and I don’t want to lash out at you.

I simply forgot/overlooked the note/post. I won’t mind if you send me an ask about it, but please give me one or two days, yes?

NOT REASONS I DON’T RP WITH YOU:

I don’t want to rp with you anymore.

I hate you.

Your muse is boring/stupid whatever else.

I only started to RP with you out of pity.

You are a terrible writer/at rp’ing. (Please note: If you write longer/more detailed rp-parts it’s easier to answer/work with it for me BUT that doesn’t mean I rate short(er) answers as bad!)

2) What are you not going to rp?

Anything that contains sex or fandoms I’m unfamiliar with. Unfamiliar means I never watched the movie/tv show or never read the book(s) / never played the game(s). I want to know the fandom I’m rping in. If you are unsure if I rp in a certain fandom, just ask me, I don’t bite.

Fandoms I likely won’t join:

Supernatural

Game of Thrones

3) Are you only playing with mutuals?

NO. I’m willing to rp with anyone who wants to rp with me. We can become mutuals as well. That’s exactly how I joined the rp-community. I started a rp with somebody (I was rather unsure about it as well, so don’t worry) and it kind of expanded.

4) I want to rp with you but I’m too shy to do it. 

First of all - I won’t bite you. And I wont judge you for being shy. I can be pretty shy as well.

You can always start with an anon ask. Just drop a starter in my inbox. (And since I’ll have more than one muse, please mention which one you want to rp with. Otherways I’ll simply assume you want to rp with my main muse.) 

If you don’t want to let me know your url, there are two ways for you to stay (more or less) anonymous.

Keep sending me anonymous asks to continue our rp.

Create a secondary blog for rps. You don’t need to mention the connection between the blogs. You only need to pay attention that you reblog the rps with the right blog.

5) Our rp takes a course I’m not comfortable with. What can I do?

Please please please tell me. I won’t judge you. I won’t get mad at you. We can find a way to solve this. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about our rp.

I will also tell you if I am uncomfortable with our rp.

6) You’ve posted/reblogged a set of rp starters and I’ve got an idea for a backstory/twist etc. Can I add it?

Yes please! That’s what gives rps extra somethings!

7) Where do you live / what timezone do you live in?

I live in Germany which means my timezone is UTC + 1. (And yes, we have the change between standart time and summer time...it sucks.)

8) I have no idea/motivation to continue our rp...

First of all: I know that pretty well. It happened to me a few times already. I know that creativity and inspiration can disappear pretty fast. I won’t be mad at you because of this but please tell me. We can try to start a new rp if you don’t want to stop rping completely.

I’ll do the same if it’s the other way round.

9) Why did you tag me in our rp?

Because I assume Tumblr ate the note that I answered it. I usually wait two or three days (or more) because I know we all have a live and I understand when some of the reasons I listed above apply to you.

10) Do you prefer rping with OC or canonic muses?

I don’t prefer OCs or canonic muses per se. And I definitely rp with both.

I’ve started rping with OCs (not on Tumblr, I’ve been doing this before joining this site). Just because they are OCs doesn’t mean they’re bad/not worth to rp with. 

There are people that spend TONS of time, afford and imagination to create their muses.

Playing with canonic muses is also fun because let’s be honest - who wouldn’t want to interact with their favourite characters?

[aceofaces20]

What would be a valid thing to submit as evidence for adhd? I feel like my teachers never noticed anything, all it ever says on my report is 'quiet', and im in the uk and you need school reports for diagnosis, and i feel like i wont be taken seriously cos they dont say 'bouncing off the walls' or something

I feel you, nonny. I wasn’t diagnosed until college because I was just “quiet.”

Odds are, if a lot of the symptoms add up enough to make you SUSPECT you have ADHD, you probably have it. But more research is always good!

So like many things, ADHD is a spectrum. The two ends of it are Inattentive to Hyperactive- and then you have people like me, in the middle, with the Combined version. Some people have more Inattentive than Hyperactive, some have more Hyperactive than Inattentive. Everyone who has ADHD experiences the symptoms a little differently.

You can find about six thousand symptoms lists online, but here I’ll tell you things that usually don’t end up on those lists that my therapist told me a lot of her patients ended up experiencing aside from listed symptoms.

(Note: Initially I tried to keep these short. Yeah, that didn’t work. I bolded the important parts.)

1. Insomnia, or at least a super screwy sleep schedule. No joke, this can be super detrimental and will only serve to exacerbate your symptoms. “Just set a sleep schedule!! You’ll feel better!” they all say- Thanks Barbara if I had any control over when my brain chooses to sleep at all I wouldn’t have this issue, ok?

-a solution to this is to, in all actuality, condition yourself. Start ONLY using your bed for sleep. Get a little chair or something in your room if you’re also a hermit like I was growing up (mushroom chairs are gr9) and once you get out of bed, don’t let yourself get back on it for more than a few minutes unless you’re going to sleep.

Some nights it’s not enough, but in general for me personally this has been an actual lifesaver- I can go from being not tired to exhausted at the drop of a hat in normal life anyway (another symptom they don’t usually tell you about) so it’s nice to be able to make it work for me for once- I get into bed, maybe spend 30 minutes restless and then I’m out.

2. On the subject of sleep. You kids ever heard of the sleep of the dead? Because guess what, I have ignored literal fire alarms in dorms because of it. About 1-2 hours into my sleep I enter a state akin to a bear hibernating. I have slept through wake-up alarms, slept through emergency alerts, slept through FIRE alarms, slept though friends and family attempting to wake me… you get the picture.

3. On the note of the hibernating bear. You constantly wake up angry (or at least disgruntled) at the universe and take a really, really long time to power on. No, I’m not talking “a case of the mornings.” I’m talking it takes me until noon some days to actually feel somewhat alert. I’m talking feeling nothing but seething rage at anyone who tries to engage you in higher brain function before you’re fully awake.-the seething rage is more personal to me, but, every single last one of my friends who’s ADHD has issues getting up in the morning. There’s hating mornings, and then there’s hating mornings.

4. About mornings. You’re constantly late to anything in the morning because you just couldn’t “get going.” i.e., you knew and 100% wanted to get up and get moving but your brain said “nah, let’s just sit here on tumblr mobile for a while k?”-it’s very difficult to describe this part of executive dysfunction with words, because it comes off as laziness to a lot of neurotypicals. It’s not laziness. It’s having the motivation and and will and the drive to do something and not forgetting about it and it still doesn’t get done.

“Why didn’t you do x?” they’ll ask. And you just sit there thinking shit, you meant to, really, honest to god meant to, it was on your brain to do and yet all you could actually do that day was sit around and watch terrible TV. And then you feel terrible because YOU think you’re lazy.It’s not laziness. It’s executive dysfunction.

5. Another not so well known EXDYF fact: Mental math or memorization for you will always be the literal bane of your existence. Teachers always told me I was a “smart kid” in school (I am, but not the point) and then they’d wonder why I couldn’t memorize a five line poem.

Or I’d start off with a 60 on a math test, until my teacher would comb through my work by hand (only useful math teacher I ever had in high school tbh) and I’d end up with a 92 because nearly all of my mistakes involved basic arithmetic errors. Even though I was able to use a calculator on the test.

(One time I decided 21-19=14. To this day 8 years later I still do not know from what abyss my brain pulled that info from.)

“You’re smart! Just focus!” I can’t choose what my brain decides to focus on that easily, Sharon, not without a lot of crying and panicking.

6. But wait! You say. I have really obscure information from a fandom that I can infodump on someone at a moment’s notice! Surely that means I’m just Lazy and Unmotivated, right? I guess I just can’t be bothered to memorize the important stuff.

*Loud buzzer noise* Stop right there. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

I will take you by the shoulders and look deep into your eyes and make you realize that guess what? If you have an ADHD brain, you have NO control over telling your brain what is important and what is not. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Your brain decides, and you usually get no say in the matter.

This sounds bad, I know. And in terms of school, birthdays, appointments, it’s terrible. But you’re not helpless. It sounds trite, but, get a good goddamn calendar app on your phone and use the hell out of it for appointments and birthdays. And for school? Find those fandoms and use mnemonics. No, seriously.

7. Also on school: You procrastinate the hell out of everything. And I’m not talking normal “haha I’ll do it later!” procrastination. I’m talking serious, problematic, REPEATED “why the fuck can’t I just do it on time like a normal person” procrastination where you start blaming yourself for not doing it sooner like a neurotypical.

Listen, buddy ol’ pal (or however that goes), you’re not neurotypical. But listen- there’s actually a medical reason why you do this.

So everyone’s brains have reward systems, right? Your brain gives you the feel good when you do something you think you should. And later, a brain remembers that it got the feel good for doing the thingy thing.

In a brain with ADHD, that reward system malfunctions. Sometimes critically. Your brain chucks so much stuff it deems “unnecessary” out the window it chucked out that feel good you got when you turned in that homework on time, or cleaned out your car, or did some pilates for 30 minutes.

8. You want to know what doesn’t help with number 7 there? Another thing that won���t show up on symptom lists but that virtually everyone I know with ADHD (quite a few, actually. Turns out we hang out in packs because we’re usually the only people who can understand each other) about ADHD is how daunting large tasks or projects seem to an ADHDer.

So listen, more medical talk here. Remember that EXDYF thing? Yeah, this is part of that.

EXDYF makes it very, very hard (almost impossible, sometimes) to break down large tasks into smaller, more feasible tasks. You get nervous the longer you put off that paper (“this isn’t something you can spit out overnight!”) You’ve been sitting in front of your computer for hours, and the only word you have written down is “The”.

Honestly, I’m not sure why it’s actually super hard to break down large undertakings into smaller tasks for the ADHD brain. But! Solution.

-if you’re having a problem breaking down ANY sort of task, I promise there’s someone else who’s done it online.

Need to write a paper? Use a template. Need to clean out your car? Find a checklist, or have a friend make you one (cause Lord knows I can’t make one on my own). Need to make a presentation? Find a sample one online. Hell, this even works for taxes. (Gasp!)

Do NOT be afraid to ask for help with even personal large undertakings. If your friends are actually your friends, then they’ll relish the chance. Especially when you can turn around and blaze through a quarter of the important project you two (or however many) have due next week in four hours because of hyperfocus.

9. So, your focus. Totally trash, right? That is, until you hyperfocus.

Hyperfocus, to a neurotypical, probably sounds great. Tune out all distractions and get shit done, right?

Sure, Linda, if you can call being able to ignore things like the need to sleep, eat, and use the bathroom “tuning out distractions.” Time becomes a literal illusion. And damn do you pay for it later by your brain not wanting to do anything at all.

On the flip side, this is why ADHD people make fantastic emergency workers like EMTs and firepeople. If you learn what to do with adrenaline when you start feeling it, you feel like you could punch Satan himself when you’re riding an adrenaline+hyperfocus high. Combine that with the fast-paced, unexpected nature of such jobs and and you have a happy ADHD brain because it’s never bored.

10. Because boredom feels like death. No, Cheryl, I’m not being overdramatic. Yes, Becky, I recognize everyone has to deal with boredom.

A neurotypical’s boredom and an ADHDer’s boredom are two very different levels of boredom. Ever heard the phrase “bored to tears”? Now imagine every time you get even a little bored, it’s like this.

And of course, the ADHD hell brain remembers the bad feels of being bored but can’t recall how nice it was to remember all of the answers on a quiz that one time you paid attention in class.This is why I have the worst problems doing homework and housework, or in general anything with serious repetition (exercise, cooking, driving, tidying up etc.). I can do it for maybe 10-15 minutes, and then my brain’s like “k I’m good. Next source of input please?” like, brain, I’m only like 3 feet into washing the kitchen floor. P l s.

11. Speaking of tears. Has rejection by someone you value ever felt like you wanted to quit existing on the spot, or at the very least wanted to move to an ice cave in Greenland and cry for the rest of your life? Even if the rejection was just perceived rejection and your friend was just expressing grumpiness at something else?

Even if your logic says “they didn’t reject you calm down you’re overreacting?”

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. It’s a newer term, but honestly, once I found out about my own ADHD and this bitch of a symptom a loooooooot of my weird habits started making a lot of sense in my head.

It doesn’t have to be actual “rejection”. It can get set off from stuff like awkwardness (hence my personal resistance to making Adult Phone Calls) to disbelief (a huge, huge reason so many people go undiagnosed), to personal judgment and/or criticisms (oh, ok… I guess I’ll never mention my love for X ever again) to even just indifference (no one noticed I mopped all the floors in the house… guess I’ll just go die!).

Basically, if you perceive that someone you care about has dismissed you in some fashion, you literally just want to quit existing. On the spot. Because the feeling of it makes you feel sick, your chest gets tight, you can feel it in your hands, and it makes the rest of your day miserable.This variant is more likely with people you care about, but can definitely 100% happen with strangers too.

Another variant is this: if you perceive that someone (whether you care about them or not) has dismissed you in some fashion, your first instinct is to attempt to disregard and discard them completely. It usually doesn’t work like you want it to.

I’m pretty sure this is another reason why ADHD people hang out in packs. We always have a line in our head we’re terrified to cross with our friends. It makes us seem like we’re emotionally unavailable- but in reality we’re just terrified of being dismissed by our friends for showing our true geeky, infodumping, hyperfixating selves.

(Listen. If a friend mocks you for your true self they weren’t your friend in the first place.)

12. But in terms of crossing that line… Social cues? What are social cues?

Normal people can infer a lot from body language. With a lot of ADHD people, we tend not to notice. Or we notice too much and overanalyze. There’s no in between.

On a side note, your best bet for flirting successfully with an ADHDer is to just come out and say it. (Talk like an elcor. “Flirtatiously: I want to hear more.” or whatever innocent phrase it is you’re using to flirt. If they’re into Mass Effect, this will make them laugh, which means bonus points for you in their eyes.)But seriously, unless you’re making obviously romantic overtures we’re usually pretty sure you’re just being nice.

Back on topic: lack of social ability is a massive, massive reason people with ADHD are usually bullied growing up. If there aren’t any other ADHD people around, it usually feels like no one “gets” you. I was bullied horribly enough during junior high and high school to the point where I still have to repress the urge to automatically assume someone being nice to me means they’re plotting something behind my back. (Didn’t help that my hs was basically the Korriban Sith academy without most of the death. Culty, religious, nepotism ran rampant.)

13. Woe betide thee who angers the ADHD. It's not a problem with everyone, but... We’re like volcanoes. Awe-inspiring to watch in action, but God help you if we explode in your direction. And if it’s righteous anger there is almost literally no stopping us.

Anger has its uses. Our problem is that, like a volcano, we always have a lot simmering under the surface. We tend to hold onto it for ridiculous amounts of time until one day, boom. Yeah, I know, Kathy, that happens with everyone. Delayed gratification and all. The difference with ADHDers is that we usually don’t wait.

ADHDers’ anger will come out initially, because we can’t suppress it. We’re impulsive as fuck. We don’t think before we leap (our brains probably wouldn’t let us anyway). And it will seem like we are flying off the handle for no reason whatsoever. But we also have a tendency to unhealthily hold onto it afterwards even once the initial burst has happened. It’s like a (bad!) positive feedback loop.

14. Gotta bounce the leg. Gotta rock. Gotta fidget. Shit, I’m sorry, were you talking?

So one time I made it through 40 minutes of a math class actively suppressing the urge to bounce my leg… and then my leg twitched of its own accord. Freaky as shit, 0/10 recommend.

Sitting still is physically impossible for me, and for a lot of ADHDers. Lack of impulse control + lack of social cue knowledge + lack of ability to decide what’s important to our brains = Fidget fidget. Fidget fidget. Twitch. Fiddle with paper. Hey, my backpack has a fun texture by the zipper. Oh my God, that lady on the TV is wearing the best shade of blue ever! I wonder where she got it. Shit, I need to go shopping. Wait, why did I need to go shopping again?

“Hey I asked you what you got for number 7.”

Fuck.

15. Depressive episodes. For me, these usually happen after a major hyperfocus where I taxed my brain for all it was worth, especially for long periods of time.

If it lasts for a long time or starts seriously affecting your life, get it checked out. If your doctor gives a damn they’ll be happy you came in to get it checked, even if it was the wrong diagnosis, because if it had been then at least they were there to help you. And they’ll always be happy to sit down and figure out what’s wrong. I know they have to watch out for hypochondriacs and whatnot. But if a doctor really cares about helping people they’ll listen when you say something’s wrong, because they know that you’re the one in your skin, not them. Which means if you really think something might be wrong, something probably is.

More evidence: justexecutivedysfunctionthings here on tumblr. Contains people’s experiences with EXDYF, which is a huge red flag for ADHD.

The Wikipedia article on the subject. There’s a nicely organized chart. (Or at least there was when I looked at it.) Remember, you don’t have to identify with all of the symptoms to be ADHD. Even if you only identify with a few, if they’re significant enough that they are seriously impacting your life and existence, it’s worth getting checked out.

I may add more to this later/change some stuff as my memory allows.