#i came across this on a walk

[frowny-clowny]

Miserable rn but at least this creek is flowing

[paperglader]

they really put alicent in bridgerton blue on the reunion and genuinely expected me to think that she didn’t in fact march all the way to dragonstone to get wifed up? bfr

[curlytsunamiart]

dad's funeral

[kimdokjas]

If you're not here, then how are you always with me? If I'm not here, then how am I not there with you? — One of Us, Paruyr Sevak (tr. metamorphesque)

happy belated birthday, tay ♡ @misakarose [insp.]

[mircsy]

The fact that I keep better track of Ezio Auditore’s birthday than any of my family members’ or mine…

[uncanny-tranny]

What to say to somebody if they have a queer identity you "don't agree with":

Nothing

No, literally. Nothing.

[myokk]

Anne during the halcyon days of their summer before Hogwarts😇💓

She kind of relied on Sebastian to remember to bring everything on their daily adventures as it was always so much more exciting to be outside and plan what they were going to do, and obviously she didn’t have time to think about food, a picnic blanket, sketchbooks (to draw maps ofc), etc 😤

Let me know how you pictured the two of them as kids even if it’s different from my interpretation! I looooove reading everyone’s headcanons💓🫶

[demigod-of-the-agni]

some observations:

miguel toes are real i guess

resting bitch face

they didn't even ragdoll this man properly. he's just stuck in a pose and then dropped into the atmosphere. his right wrist is severely fucked it's rotating in all the wrong directions. the bg music is not helping. i'm literally crying

taken from this post from the spiderversemovie account on instagram

[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[djarindroid]

Unspoken Care

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: OK SO I cannot stop thinking about Daryl and I had to write something, so here is a short lil fluff story I wrote. (I've barely proof read this so please forgive me). (Set in Alexandria, post Negan)

Word Count: 614

The sun had been beating down all day, you were sure it had to be the hottest day of the year. The heat however didn’t mean that the work on Alexandria stopped. 

After hours of work, you were finally trudging your way home, weighed down by your tired body. All you wanted was a shower, a hot meal and to crawl into bed for a much needed rest.

You somehow managed to drag yourself up the stairs, ready to haul yourself into the shower. Although as you reached the top step you noticed steam pouring out of the cracked open bathroom door, of course someone had beaten you in there.

Sighing, you headed towards your room but as you walked past the bathroom door it gently swung open just enough to reveal Daryl. 

‘Long day?’ He asked.

‘You can say that again,’ you joked. ‘Let me know when you’re done in there,’ you added as you made to walk past the door.

Before you could get past though Daryl pushed the door open further to reveal a steaming hot bath. ‘Figured ya’d need this when ya got back,’ he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

You blinked, Daryl had run you a bath? He’d always looked out for you but this felt different, more intimate. The exhaustion that had clung to you began to lift, replaced with a warmth that had nothing to do with the steam rising from the tub.

‘Thank you,’ you managed with a genuine smile breaking through. Daryl nodded and quickly disappeared downstairs before you could say anymore.

As you soaked in the relaxing water your mind drifted to Daryl and everything he does for you. The unspoken care he provided, that he never thought twice about. It wasn’t just about running you a bath, it was about understanding you without the need for words, a true connection that can only be forged after what you’d gone through together.

You closed your eyes and sunk further into the water, feeling the knots in your shoulders loosen. In a world where vulnerability was a luxury, his actions for you spoke louder than any words ever could. You truly felt safe and cared for in a way you knew no one else could make you feel.

After what felt like an age, you stepped out of the bath with a new found energy. You slipped into a pair of clean joggers and a hoodie, and ventured downstairs. As you made your way down a creak alerted Daryl to your presence, prompting him to look up from a map he was studying at the kitchen island.

His eyes met yours and you felt the corner of your lips tug up into an undeniable smile.

‘Feel better?’ He asked with a signature gruff tenderness.

You nodded, unable to quash your smile even if you wanted to. ‘Much, thanks to you.’

He looked back to the map with a shrug, ‘just figured ya could use a break.’ You didn’t miss the small smile he tried to hide. 

The rest of the evening unfolded with a shared meal and quiet conversation, the weight of the day lifting further and further from your shoulders. Whatever this unspoken bond connecting you and Daryl was, grew stronger the longer you sat in each other's company. You didn’t feel the need to address it, you were sure Daryl could feel it too.

And as you sat on the sofa next to each other at the end of the night you didn’t think twice about resting your head on his shoulder as you drifted off to sleep, feeling the most comfort you’d felt since the apocalypse had begun.

[morninkim]

woman who wonders about many a thing

[humblemooncat]

Now that my brain has had time to rest, I wanted to post these shots from our Shadowbringers walk last night!

It was a fun time, albeit a long one. Thank you to those who stopped by, it was really lovely to see you all! <3

(From left to right in the last two pics: @lostghosts, @sae-mian, My boy Lohi, @zylphiacrowley, @pangolinheart, & @lilvulpix-alex)

[skitskatdacat63]

Prince Jenson of Somerset

+ process & lore

Yayyyyy omg finally have drawn portraits of the four main characters!!!! I'll show the process of Jenson's first and then them all four together. Though it's a shame the Seb/Fernando ones are older, I think it's hopefully obvious how much I've improved since November?

Look at him in all his handsome, princely glory 🥹 It's funny, I'm always happy with the second sketch and initial lineart, and then I start coloring it and I absolutely hate it, and it takes a significant amount of time into the painting for me to like it again. And then I reach a certain point and I'm in love with it again. Ugh though I gotta say, I love drawing the curls, it's just so 18th century, but at the same point, man I always will love my original lineart for the hair the best ah. Also yes I absolutely had to give him a big ass hat with feathers, he really is that kinda guy to me. I originally drew a bicorne and then realized that those don't really exist until basically almost a century later oops, so tricorne it is!!

Okay now omg look at them all together 🥹

Haha wow I have improved a lot! Just like the Seb/Fernando ones, Mark and Jense's were meant to be put together. I think there's a lot of inherent characterization in their poses that highlight the difference between them. Mark is looking up, very wistful, looking up to greater people, greater things. Jenson's head is tilted down, almost looking at the viewer, he is very satisfied with his role and revels in it, he's here to slay!

Okay, yes, lore, characterization, sorry that it is so far down on the post!!

Jense would probably be the fan favorite if this AU was an actual book or show or something. He's the guy you randomly find while browsing Wikipedia and you're like, woah this guy is so cool??? Unlike Sebmarknando, he doesn't really have the same level of angst, he's kinda just chilling. He's a bit harder to write a lore post about, because he's basically that character who is always magically around the corner, ready to witness some crazy thing and just breeze past it.

He is less linked to Seb than people like Mark and Fernando, because he's basically just his personal minister of transportation(read: horse fucker), so he avoids a lot of the relationship complications and drama, but that isn't to say he's completely uninvolved. He really likes Seb, and loves to hang around with him and serve him, but he's not as beholden to him. He's who everyone goes to air their grievances or to get away from the others, and he's very happy with this role. He's generally willing to play any side in an argument, but does tend to have a pretty big soft spot for Seb overall(Seb also gives him cuteness aggression, and he wants to bite him. Especially when Seb puffs himself up and acts super bratty when he gets offended at not being seen as a proper ruler.)

He's royalty from other kingdom, but pledged his loyalty to Seb's kingdom when he was quite young and has served him(his father first) ever since. He started off somewhat low in the military, rose to a pretty high rank, was a renowed war hero, and then ended up retiring pretty early to tend to Seb's horses. That's an oversimplification, but yeah. He liked the military life, was very good at it, but decided he had done enough, and wanted to be involved in more direct service, albeit more laid back. As I mentioned in Mark's post, Mark *really* doesn't understand his choice to do this, because if Mark had been in Jense's position, he can't ever imagine being able to let all that go and living the quiet life.

He is the palace whore, everyone has been with him honestly. It'll be like, some man walks into his bedroom, only to see Jenson in bed with his wife, but instead of being angry, he's like "wow you couldn't even wait for me??" He's just very carefree, and happy to just slut around and tend to Seb's horses.

I think he definitely still advises Seb, and would go to battle if truly need be, but generally seems to be living in a different world than the weird psychosexual homoerotic political drama that the others seem to be living in. But as I said, it's not like he doesn't contribute to it! He loves to goad Fernando, and constantly plays devil's advocate in "debates" between Fernando and Seb. He's also obviously the one that keep "accidentally" locking them in rooms and forgetting where the key is.

Sorry if this isn't very explanatory, I hope it gives a general idea to the type of character he is???? As always, let me know if you have any questions! I kinda struggled on what to write here because I'm finishing this at almost 8 am 😭 so I'm not sure if it's great or not. But basically you need to know: horse fucker who is generally breezy and carefree but also can be a bit of a menace to society every once in a while.

[sparky-is-spiders]

JE week day 3 (for the prompts "sick" and "confession")! Which is also today. Please don't look at you calendars. Anyway this one is much shorter than previous. Warning for second-hand embarrassment I guess? Sorry Jon you're just so bulliable. Fic under the cut.

(Edit I forgot to re-italicize everything lmao. So if you saw a version of this where nothing was in italics uhhhh no you didn't. Also added some other stuff cause this baby needed some editing)

"Elias Bouchard speaking," "Hello. This is Jon." A moment. "Erm- Jon Sims." Idiot. He already knows who you are! "Ah, Jon, good morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Elias sounded genuinely warm, like he was actually happy to hear from them. Something light and fuzzy bloomed in their chest. Their head felt blanketed in fog. What were they going to say? "Jon?" Right. Calling out sick. They had a plan that they had practiced over and over again in their head. Stick to the script. "I-I've come down with a cold, I think," their voice sounded rough and scratchy, even to their own ears. "I don't think I'll be able to come in today." "You do sound rather under the weather," there was the faint sound of computer keys clacking in the background. Elias himself seemed nonplussed at the news, which was probably a good sign. Still, barely two months into their important new job and already calling out sick… best to be clear that he wasn't slacking off. "I apologize, I know it must be inconvenient. I assure you that I'll be in to work as soon as possible, a-and-" Their words were rushing out of his mouth, tripping over each other in Jon's desperate need to make themselves understood. Elias mercifully cut them off. "Jon, if you're calling out sick, I'm assuming the situation is dire. Please, take as much time as you need. I'll inform the others that you're not feeling well." Elias sounded so terribly fond Jon was sure they were projecting their own fluttering nonsense onto him. After a brief pause, he added, "And please do make sure that you actually get some rest. Now, will that be all?" "I- thank you. Yes… that- that should be everything." "Alright. Get well soon, Jon." And then, in their cold-fogged brain, some stupid holdover instinct from their relationship with Georgie woke from its years long slumber to fire off "I love you." There was a moment of horrible, echoing silence as they both sat with the words Jon had allowed to leave their mouth. Then, with desperate finality, Jon ended the call.

(A few minutes later their phone vibrated. Jon pulled it out, handling it with all the careful fear of a snake handler holding an angry cobra.

It was a text. From Elias.

While flattering, I assume that's not what you meant to say?

Another vibration, and another message on the screen.

It's alright. Happens to everyone. Best of luck with your recovery and please do let me know if you need anything.)

[omppupiiras]

oh no my friend informed me of a k-market that had the pirkka shoes in my size....... time to try to be normal and not go there tomorrow first thing to see if they still have them 😬

[irish-belle]

Need. A. Spa. Day.