#i clearly numbered something wrong in there but uhhhhh oh well.

[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 )

[the-fiction-witch]

Situation

REAL LIFE  COUPLE TBS X READER RATING: SEXUAL + FUNNY 

I sat having a lovely little bath scrolling through the streaming services to find a movie for the evening. Once I found something I was going to go make some snacks and then go to bed early for a little… snuggle time l by myself so not a long movie. I couldn't settle on what I wanted just scrolling away until I jumped hearing my phone go off. It happens that someone actually calls me. I'd quiet forgotten what my ringtone even was for a while. I grabbed it from the side looking at my screen, seeing the photo of him sat on his red ducati, I need a new contact picture for him that was ages ago. I don't even think he still has that motorbike. But I answered.

"Hi Thomas"

"Uhhh hello y/n" Thomas answered sounding nervous and in pain

"What's wrong?" I asked

"Uhhhhh nothing bad but ummmm I might need your help"

"Okay. What for?"

"Can uhhh can you drive me to a & e?"

"What! What the hells happened!"

"Nothing bad I swear"

"Then why do you need to go to a&e?"

"Uughhh well. There is an issue. That requires uhhh fast medical attention"

"You haven't crashed your motorbike again have you"

"No no nothing like that"

"Have you like cut your fingers off or something?"

"No"

"Then why can't you take yourself?'

"Because I can't!"

"What is wrong Thomas tell me and tell.me now."

"Look there is an issue. That I would like to uhh see a doctor about. Quickly as in before the next hour or two. And…. I'm fine. But I need help. I can't drive and…. Your the only person I trust with this"

"What about ava?"

"She will never let me live this down"

"Jack?"

"South africa"

"Okay. On my way"

"Please hurry" he muttered before I hung up I grabbed my dress slipping It back on from before my bath grabbing my keys and quickly driving over to his house I was confused as I stood on his porch. Should I knock? Is he dead? I rang the little door bell and the door almost instantly opens to a very panicked clearly very stressed Thomas in stained grey sweatpants and a old castol oil t shirt

"Oh thank fuck what took you so long!" He complained

"You don't look like you need a&e?" I said looking him over he was panicked yes but he didn't look ingured

"Yes I do. The issue is on the inside now mush driver girl!" He complained basically pushing me to my car I got in and he slowly climbed in too unable to keep himself still in the seat I drove doing my best to not be too fast to disturb whatever the problem with him is, but not too slow give he seemed he really needed to get there. I watched him a little as he moved he had moved almost everything in this car ride so it's not like he's in muscle pain or maybe a join out of place anything like that racking my mind for what on earth could be the matter and why all the urgency.

"Thomas?"

"Yes."

".... Have you found something?" I asked curiosity and delicately

"No"

"Okay… is there something wrong… with the… flow of things?" I asked again trying to be delicate

"In a way." He gulped as I parked up but I grabbed his arm

"Your not leaving this car until you tell me what's wrong with you"

"Y/n!"

"Now!"

"It's complicated"

"Explain. Now. Or so help me I will drive you home"

"There is an issue. That is not so much causing me pain but uhhhhhh needs to not be where it is. Enough said."

"Thomas?" I giggled

"Shut up."

"Seriously?"

"Shut up!"

"Alright come on"

"I can go on my own"

"No you can't, come on" I smiled he wasn't thrilled with the idea but I still followed him in luckily given how late it was he didn't have to explain this to a receptionist he just basically took a number and we sat in the still fairly busy waiting room far from other people and still he wouldn't sit still. "You gonna tell me the proper explanation now"

"No I bloody well am not"

"Why? You trusted me enough for me to bring you here"

"I was under the presumption you would not ask questions"

"You know me better then that"

"True"

"So…. What happened to put us in this" I giggled "situation"

"No. I'm not telling you"

"Why not?" I giggled as a few people went in clearly the next wave of people to see doctors

"Because you'll laugh at me"

"Awww Thomas I won't laugh at you, I just wanna make sure your okay and to understand that I need to know what happened and… how it happened"

"You promise?"

"I promise"

"And you won't tell anyone"

"Not a soul"

"Not even jack and Ava"

"Not even jack or your sister"

"Not even your cat?"

"...okay" I giggled

"Y/n I'm serious this needs to stay between you me and that doctor I swear to god I may actually murder you if I ever EVER hear about this from anyone else. This is a secret I expect you to take to your grave"

"Okay Thomas okay" I giggled "I promise not a word"

"Okay" he sighed "I…. Bought something. Online"

"Ohhh all great stories start with that sentence" I giggled "what did you buy?"

"Something"

"Name the something Thomas,"

"No!"

"Your already telling me the story come on name the something, so I can understand"

"I think… it's called a uhhh bullet"

"Okay" I nodded trying not to giggle I didn't want to be mean given his situation but come in I've known Thomas forever this is fun watching him literally squirming but I don't think he appreciated my giggles so I decided to just well grow up let's deal with this "right I understand I can visualize carry on"

"And uhh when it came I tried it out and to my surprise I liked it. Like really really liked it."

"Really liked it?"

"Let's put it this way I burned thought three sets of batteries for it in a week"

"Oh. Okay yeah you uhh you liked that didn't you"

"Yeah."

"So… this is related to the situation how?" I asked glancing at him a little concerned

"And uhh what I then began using it for is uhh I don't think what it's designed for"

"Well no they are meant more I think for women but-" I began

"Other issue"

"Oh" it clicked in my head what he meant "okay. I get it. Ohhh I get it now. The issue is on the inside is it thomas?"

"Shut. Up."

"Let me take a guess how this plot continues and this evening all alone you decided with a fresh set of batteries to begin again however you went a little too far?"

"Bingo"

"Okay. I see why you wanted this a secret and why you can't drive yourself. But a & e? Your not dieing Thomas it'll resolve itself"

"No it won't" panicked

"Why not?"

"I did it this morning"

"Oh." I gulped "have to tried-"

"Don't you think I've tried everything!" He whines "everything I try just…. Makes it go higher"

"Oh no"

"Yeah oh fucking no!"

"Is this the first time you've?"

"Yes. Never really been one for that stuff but…. I'm getting lonely okay"

"It's okay Thomas we all get lonely just maybe next time read what things are for before you buy them maybe make sure to get things with… grips and such" I suggest "trust me even I have the fear when I use a bullet vi-" I began "hang on. Batteries?"

"Yeah. Honestly there more what I'm concerned about I mean the issue of it being up there is also a problem but uhhh the fact literally have two double A batteries currently inside my body is very frightening"

"Yeah I can imagine it is" I nodded "but also. If it had batteries in it. Was… it.. on?"

"Yes"

"How on earth did you turn it off once you lost it? Do like a internal muscle twist?"

"I didn't" he gulped

"Ah. So…. It's still?" I asked unable to stop my glance downward

"Yes."

"You are being remarkably quiet for having a still vibrating bullet up your ass"

"Shut. Up. Y/n i swear to God!" He complained

"What level was it on?"

"What level do you think it was on? I actually didn't notice if lost it till uhh after. I let go off it because of… reasons and once I was with it again I uhh couldn't get it"

"You have had a hell of day"

"Yeah."

"I'm surprised the batteries haven't died yet, still at least it's not pressing on-" I began but then I glanced at his grey sweatpants and there various stains I assumed he just hadn't washed them in a while or maybe he was working on his motorbike today but then my head now knowing this new info came up with another idea "it is isn't it?"

"Yes"

"How many-"

"I stopped counting after twelve"

"Ah. And or course everytime you-"

"Yep"

"Your muscles then-"

"Yep"

"And it goes higher up your"

"Yes!"

"Honestly at this point Thomas you might be better trying to cough it up" I smiled as he glared at me "just trying to lighten the mood. "Have you… since we've?"

"In your car yes"

"Perv"

"I'm not the one who insisted every little detail be told to them"

"I'm here to help I have to know things" I smiled holding his hand

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss "I don't know why you can't just push it out. Outs the easy way it's like taking a poop"

"Because… it might not be the only thing up there"

"Excuse me?" I glared

"There many have been… another element at play"

"Let me guess. Long. Thin. With irregular shapes at distance making it Basically impossible to push back down without some serious muscle movements?"

"Yes"

"And where didn't get those?"

"Internet"

"15? 20? 25?"

"55"

"Ooohh you dirty boy" I smirked "how is that not like.. your not that tall Thomas how is that not at least within reach?'

"I don't know I think it's like bunching itself"

"This is gonna be fun" I smiled "did you enjoy yourself at least before-"

"I did. Without the battery issue this might be fun"

Luckily the doctor called us over and we went though to a small room

"So what seems to be the trouble?" He asked and I could tell Thomas didn't really want to tell him

"There uhhh is an issue"

"Your at a&e there wasn't an issue you wouldn't be here, is it urgent?"

"Yes. A uhh ticking time bomb if you like"

"You haven't swallowed bags of drugs or anything right There's a separate department for that"

"No. Uh….. y/n"

"Yes?" I asked confused why he asked for me

"Please tell the doctor what's wrong with me…"

"You sure?"

"Yes. He's he doctor he has to know"

"Okay" I smiled giving his head a kiss "he had a bullet vibrator with batteries that is still vibrating stuck up his ass, he out it up there this morning and still can't get it out and as you can imagine with it still going he keeps cumming which is shoving it further and further out of reach and he's afraid he either can't get it out or the batteries are going to blow or crack or leak whatever batteries do that's a big oh no for the inside of the body, and to add insult to ingurgy he also shoved what was it 45 centimeters?"

"55" he corrected

"I'm sorry 55 centimeters of anal beads up there which he as also lost the end of and can't get out and are all bunching together and I imagine likely are also around the bullet about now making it impossible for him to push them out. Please deal with this"

"Thank you"

"Your welcome"

"Okay, you the girlfriend?" The doctor asked having noted all that down

"Nope just a friend who can keep his secrets" I smiled

"Right then we are on a time crunch for those batteries well keep you hydrated might have to flush your system, have you eaten today?"

"No"

"Okay one minute" he says going off to sort it all out

"There doctors gonna make you all better" I smiled holding his hand

"Thank you y/n for everything"

"Your welcome."

"... After all this. I wouldn't mind you, being my girlfriend?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

"That's sweet tommy" I smiled giving his lips a kiss, he happily kissed back pulling me closer to him our kisses becoming much less innocent and a little bit and heavy till I pulled back "no. That's just the vibration talking"

"Yeah I did just cum so"

"You are so quiet"

"When I have to be yes. Hotel walls are thin y/n how do you think I survive being in like louisiana for six months in tiny hotel rooms, you have to learn to be very quiet"

"I'm sure you can be loud" I smirked

"I can, when the time is right" he smirked back pulling me back to our kiss

"You know I'm a little concerned this is a kink situation, because you two seem… into this. And that is definitely another department I gotta call" the doctor said as he came back

"Why we are two consenting adults?" He asked

"Still. Anyway come on let's get you down there, I'd advise you wait here"

"Okay, I'll be in the waiting room when you get back" I smiled

"Okay, see you later" he smiled giving me a kiss before going off with the doctor so I went back to the waiting room and got myself a vending machine snack watching the TV news while I wait.

[yourplayersaidwhat]

A Beast of an Arc

Context:  Before this arc started, I gave my players a choice between three story options:  a wedding arc (between my player/girlfriend and my character, who have been affianced since before this entire campaign started over two years ago), Pharony (my character)’s past arc (revisiting the former land of their clan, who had all been killed by my character when they were possessed by evil forces), or the Civility arc.  I didn’t tell them anything about this last one, but after discussions, it was determined that the wedding can happen next time, I’m not 100% prepped for the past-arc, and I have almost everything ready for the Civility arc.  In-game, their boss asks them to do a favor to check on their friend, Civility, who lives in the Stargazer Mountain range, near this village.  She apologizes that this task is going to SUCK, and because of certain rules, laws, and two well-placed curses, Boss cannot talk about the problems they’re about to face–but they’re getting paid at least ten times their going rate.

DM, me:  So I’m sending you off with horses–if the village sees you all ride in on your usual mounts (think Dracolisks from Dragon Age: Inquisition), they’ll kill the mounts.  And they’re very, VERY against non-humans.  (no problem, basic disguises work for the elves and half-elf)  Any questions before Vaughn (boss’s husband) sends you off?  No?  Okay, good!  (two in-game days of travel to get to the village after being teleported 1000-ish miles)  You enter the dreary village, a couple of food stalls, a clearly-labelled butcher-shop, a blacksmith, an orphanage, a well in the center of town–pretty standard village setup.

H, my GF and cleric-ranger: I approach a foodstall to talk to the woman, buying an apple as we chat.

Me:  You hear the screams of a woman in pain coming from the orphanage as the woman seems to pay it no mind.

H:  Uhhhh what’s that? *about the screams*

Woman:  Oh, that’s just a bastard being brought into the world.  *the group chuckles at this, then realizes she’s serious*

H:  Oh… uh… hmmm… *OOC:  that’s concerning*

D, the bestest bard: I buy the ears of corn she has.  *pays an EXORBITANT amount for five ears of corn for her dracolisk*

H&D head back to the two others at the well where they’re watering the horses, trying to decide where to go, about to decide to head to the inn to see if they can find out what’s going on when the doors to the orphanage slam open, a large man stomping out and holding a damp and bloody bundle in one arm, headed towards the well and troughs the group is standing at. 

Pr, the Rogue-Wizard: He’s not…

D:  I think he is…

H:  Oh god, someone do something!

Ph, the barbarian-ranger played by me:  He’s definitely gonna.

Pr:  I wanna cast…  *furious scrolling*  where is it…

DM:  Take your time, this isn’t a Telltale game, you’re not timed.

Pr:  *realizing the spell she took won’t work*  I DON’T HAVE HOLD PERSON, SOMEONE HELP.

H:  Oh, crap, uhhhhh, SIR!  I see you’re about to just throw that bundle out–

Man:  It’s an abomination!  I’m sending it back to hell, where it belongs!

Pr:  Oh god, they sacrifice babies.

Me:  *trying not to die from laughter*

H:  Well, I mean, how about I buy it from you?  *tries hard to convince him, he passes and refuses the money* 

Me, OOC:  … What is with y'all and trying to just buy the things from people?  *laughing, because this is NOT the first time*

H, OOC:  Hey, you’re the one that gave us like 30,000 GP.

Me, OOC:  That’s fair, my understanding of money in this game is still terrible.

H, back in character:  I cast Command!  *he fails* I tell him ‘Give’.  *he hands over the bundle, which gets passed to the rogue-wizard, who casts an illusion spell that makes it appear as if the bundle has stopped moving*

Pr:  *unconvincingly* Oh, no, it died!  *rolls deception, does well, they all relax for a moment before the door to the orphanage opens again*

As I die of laughter, they basically repeat the process of command-illusion-deception with bundle number two, taking it from the old crone.  Things get a bit serious as the door opens again (to many cries of HOW MANY BABIES ARE THERE) to a young woman, shaking and ashen, sweat drenched and stumbling towards them as she sobbed.  Our bard D runs up to the new mother, quietly assuring her all was fine as the others quickly saddled back up and rode out as they used thaumaturgy to cause a minor earthquake, fleeing in the direction of Civility’s castle.  After riding hard for a while, they stop to set up camp, check on the babies, and help the new mother dress in borrowed clothes, cloak and cuddle with her children.  The children in question look similar to sphynx/manticore cubs, with more human facial features, and the rogue-wizard insists one of them ought to be named after her, she doesn’t care which one.

H:  *as an aside, later*  You know, if the mother hadn’t shown up, H was ready to suddenly be a mom.  Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t in the plan at all, but she would’ve done it to save them.  Forget giving them to Boss (which is exactly what they did when they found a newborn tiefling in a village overrun with the dead). 

Me:  I’m glad this is something that Pharony would’ve 100% gone with, because that would’ve made your upcoming nuptials very awkward.

(In the end, they did save Civility, who is Sybil’s spouse and very much a non-human and was being controlled by evil goo (unrelated to the vile actions of the village). Players got paid, and came close to dying, but made it out just fine.  Rogue-wizard still wants a baby named after her.)

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

It’s Joyce and Hopper’s wedding. A new member is added to the household, and things get real.

(chapter one)(two) 

It’s a Wednesday in February when he returns home and plops down onto the couch. The bar shifts just seemed to get worse. In the span of three minutes, he had to break up a fight, have the bouncer kick out a guy for harassing his manager, and clean a spill a drunk party group had made.

I’m not paid nearly enough for this, he thinks.

A sneeze breaks him from his misery. 

“Bless you.” He says with his eyes closed. They shoot open when he realizes you don’t sneeze like that. 

He sits up and looks at the moving thing under the pillow. His heart races as he hears some kind of breathing. 

Please no, he thinks. We just took care of the plumbing. 

He lifts the pillow carefully, expecting to see a pile of rats or mice or worse. Instead, he’s greeted by a sneezing dog. 

It’s a Scottish Terrier with big eyes that just seem to interrogate him as to why he interrupted his sneezefest. 

“Uhhhhh, where’d you come from?” He scans the apartment, seeing a dog bed at the corner of the lazy boy across from him. 

This had to be the work of one person only.

Steve calls out for you, hearing you run out from the bathroom in a hurry and a towel haphazardly wrapped around you. 

“What’s the emergency? Oh, I see you’ve met Mickey.” 

He’s speechless, looking at you like you’re out of your mind. “Mickey?”

“Yeah, they brought him in today and I felt really bad that they were taking him to the choky tomorrow. I had to save this poor baby. And who can say no to his little eyes?” You singsong the latter half of that sentence in a baby voice, kneeling to ruffle your fingers through Mickey’s fur.

“What if Tony finds out we have a dog? What do we say? We can’t keep him.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, he’s quiet when he eats the jerky from Tom’s.”

“That’s my jerky!” Steve whines.

“Okay! I’ll get you extra then. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” 

Steve glances back to Mickey still staring at him. He puts out a cautious hand, Mickey getting close enough to sniff and then lick. 

At least it was nice to have another man in the house. 

He runs his hands through Mickey’s surprisingly soft coat, earning a low whimper from the pooch. Mickey lies on his side, clearly loving the scratches Steve is giving him. Steve catches himself smiling, suddenly forgetting the looming threat of eviction for a moment.

He’s wanted a dog since he was six, but his dad would never let him keep one. Not even a goldfish. He thinks maybe if he’d had a dog, he wouldn’t have turned out so cold in his teens. He just wanted to love something and have it love him back.

“Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad.” 

Mickey responds by kicking his tiny paws in the air, writhing on the couch.

Steve is so bewitched by the creature he doesn’t even notice when you come back into the room or even left for that matter.

“So, anything from that Sissy girl you were seeing?”

“No,” he pouts, “I mean I think she was scared off by this.” He gestures to himself.

“Oh my god, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what? I just felt like there wasn’t any long term potential there.”

“You guys went on one date, and you didn’t even kiss! You blue balled her!”

“Okay first of all, who takes their date to their family member’s birthday party and expects a whole relationship to blossom from there? And second, when you’ve been single as long as I have, you just know what you want and what to expect.”

You snicker. “But you don’t know what you want, you have like, the worst standards.”

“Uh, I like to think they’re realistic.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think it’s fair everyone has to compare to Phoebe Cates.”

“Phoebe was a great product of her time, thank you very much. And, I mean what about Tessa Grey?”

“Tessa Gr - my co-worker?”

Steve nods adamantly. “I would date her. You know if she wasn’t - engaged.” 

“Alright we have to unpack that sometime but first why do you always say their names like some sort of serial killer?”

“Because,” he thinks, “they’re firsty-lastys. The same way I’m Steve….” 

“Oh please don’t say it.” You cover Mickey’s ears. 

“Steve “The Hair” Harrington!” 

You groan in response, bringing Mickey to rest on your chest while you put your feet up on Steve’s lap. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” He mimics. 

“Oh, please. Okay, okay, let’s say for the sake of this being hypothetical, Tessa breaks off her engagement and she shows up here and says, ‘Oh my god, Steve Harrington I would love to have your babies, let’s get married! You can meet my family and eat my famous pasta, wahhhh!’” You flail your hands around for effect, seeing the amusement in his face.

His face screws up, “Geez, am I dating Wario now?” 

“That is exactly how she sounds! Plus, you would find something wrong with her and then you’d bail.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh but it is! It’s so true. In fact, anyone as grotesquely tall and hair-obsessed as you cannot be so picky.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I find the -”

“Don’t say it.”

“The one.” 

You groan, shoving your face into Mickey’s chest. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t see you bringing anyone home. Still not over Danny?”

Your mouth forms an O, you kick his thigh with the heel of your foot. 

“For your information, I have been seeing someone.”

This piques his interest. “Who and is he an escaped convict?”

“Okay,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t talked to him but he left his number at the desk so who knows?”

“Hmm, I may be wrong, but I don’t think that was meant for you. You are a receptionist after all.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But I just have some stuff to take care of beforehand.”

He nods.

“Personal…..maintenance.” 

“Yup.” 

“Gotta mow the lawn.” You emphasize.

“No yeah, I got you the first time. But come on, let’s be honest here. You’re stalling.”

“For what?” 

“Jumping into the unknown. Danny was a huge part of your life so I get what it’s like to lose that connection.”

You laugh sarcastically. “Okay, grandpa are these your words of wisdom? I am totally over Danny. At this point, I can say screw Danny! I have all the time in the world to find someone else!“

You weren’t completely wrong. Danny had been with you since senior year of high school. You thought it would be like one of those fairy tales where the high school sweethearts end up living together in an amazing house surrounded by all these treasures and all that jazz. Nothing could tear you down.

And then junior year of college came and he slept with one of your college friends. You transferred soon after. It was your first relationship, and you just felt like a failure. 

You don’t view California so great anymore, instead choosing to uproot yourself and finding the first place you could in New York for cheap.

It worked out fine, you think. It led you to Steve and Robin. 

Even though you clowned him for it, you also wanted that special connection. Love that movies taught you but you’d learned the hard way they weren’t going to translate into real life the same way. 

“Uh-huh. I mean there’s no shame in it, I was the same way with Nancy.”

“I wasn’t moping around and wallowing in self-pity like you, though.”

“C’mon what was that whole period of just ‘Danny!'” He mimics your voice crying and eating out of an invisible tub of ice cream. 

You feign being offended, chucking the couch pillow to him as he catches it and smothers himself with it. 

“Your dad’s crazy. Yes, he is.” You pout to Mickey. 

Joyce & Jim’s Wedding

Chincoteague, Virginia

March 1-3rd 

“I remember during ‘84, Chief Hopper had a special visitor waiting for him in his office to talk to him about the disappearance of her boy. At the time she was just the town’s nut, but I bet no one would guess the wild ride these two would go on to end up here.” The man who Steve tells you was one of Hopper’s officers back home, toasts.

It sat poorly with the guests, including a somewhat already even more pissed off looking Hopper. He seems to get the idea and ends his toast blessing the couple in their late forties. 

Jonathan goes up next, greeting the crowd. He’s dressed impeccably, his hair somewhat slicked back and his ring very prominent when the light catches it.

“I would like to thank everyone who came out to help us celebrate. I’m very proud of my mom and at first, I was a little wary about her settling down with someone. Not because I was moody about it but because she’s done so well on her own taking care of me and my siblings. She’s always been both parents to me but Jim,” Jonathan raises his glass.

“I want to thank you for helping us years ago, for believing in us. For being patient with us and sticking with us through thick and thin. My mom lights up every day like a Christmas tree and I think that’s evidence enough for me to happily welcome you into the family. To my mom and Jim!”

“To Joyce and Jim!” The crowd toasts. 

The wedding was held in a gazebo near the beach on the East Coast, with Joyce getting married in a white tea-length dress with lacing decorating her collar down to her arms and Jim in a grey suit decorated with one of Joyce’s favorite flowers in his pocket. They’d both changed for the reception, Joyce into a red sheath dress and Jim into a black dress shirt and pants and a blazer matching Joyce’s dress. 

You were seated with Jonathan and Nancy and another pair of family friends, talking and catching up with the other nuptials. They both told you the craziest stories about Steve from high school to when they last saw him, all the while he sat mere inches from you and hid behind his hand when something particularly embarrassing came up. 

You’d often erupt in fruity laughter, hearing about the time Steve got his Scoops Ahoy uniform stuck in the fridge or when he’d played Dungeons and Dragons for the first time only to lose every time. 

“So, how long has this been going on?” Nancy queries, gesturing to you and Steve.

You glance at Steve, lost for words for a moment. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends,” Steve adds right after you.

“I’ve been rooming with him for the past two years since Robin left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she concedes. “I always hear you call him Honey over the phone sometimes.”

Your eyes widen.  Curse your sarcastic nature.

“Oh no, god no,” You laugh nervously. “I just like to mess with him.”

You drown yourself out with the drink in front of you, leaving Steve to pick up the rest of the conversation.

“We got a dog.” Steve blurts out, trying to fill in for the painfully embarrassing silence.

Jonathan raises his brows, “Really?” 

“Yeah, only instead of being the dad of the group back then, I’m a dog dad now.” He reveals.

Nancy and Jonathan laugh, almost as if to help ease both of you back into not being awkward. 

“Hey, you guys heard Dustin’s getting married right?” Nancy pouts with her bottom lip drawn out. “He’s so old now.” 

“Yeah, Steve loves the little guy.” You blurt. Steve glances at you.

“Last I heard he was starting up some fund for kids with CCD in California,” Jonathan alleges.

“Oh yeah,” Nancy remembers. “The Palm Springs wedding.” 

The music begins playing for the guests and Nancy jumps, exclaiming that she loves this song and asks Jonathan to dance with her. They turn to you and Steve and urge you onto the dance floor, but you say you’ll be there in a second.

“What was that?” He whispers in a shrill tone.

“I panicked!” 

“They probably think we’re idiots now.” 

You cock your head down and glare at him. “These are your friends, Steve. They would never think that. It’s just been a while since you’ve all seen each other they probably understand.”

Steve bounces his leg in response. You put your hand on his thigh, stopping him. 

“Look, we are gonna go out onto that dance floor and we are going to find you the best damn lover you’ll ever have.”

He nods rapidly, hooked onto your every word. 

You lead him in when a couple leaves, guiding his hand to rest on your lower back and rest your left hand on the lapel of his suit. Your right-hand holds out for his, swaying until you can match the tempo of the music. 

“Okay, what about violet in glasses?” You suggest, feeling him turn you to catch a glimpse.

“Too bookish.” 

“What’s wrong with bookish?”

“I already have you, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, what about red with the pony?” 

“Where?” 

“Behind you, rotate.”

He rotates you to the left and makes a face. “Too mean.”

“What? She seems nice.”

“The red makes her seem aggressive.”

You sigh. “Okay, pink with the braid?”

He glances quickly to his right, “Yeah she’s cute.”

“I’ll go and spill my champagne on her and then you just swoop in and dry her off.” 

“Is there any way you can do this without assaulting someone?”

“It’s not assault, I’m just very hands-on with this.”

“That sounds like it’s textbook definition.”

“When have you picked up a textbook? Nevermind, you want to try this or not? I haven’t failed you yet.” 

He purses his lips, thinking back to the first wedding. 

“Don’t. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

As the song ends you retreat to your table, grab your glass, and start sipping. Steve stays behind, watching you fake stumble and fall against the woman and drench her with the drink. She gasps as the cold beverage hits her, and Steve pulls out one of the fancy napkins from the table.

“Showtime.”

"You think she hates me now?” You say, drawing circles in the sand with your feet.

“You mean because a drunken guest dumped their drink on an expensive dress she was planning on returning?" 

You stare at him, unamused. 

"I appreciate the try. She just seemed….too hostile.”

“I get it, I mean a guy like you coming up to me and trying to pat my breasts down - I would want to leave too.” You chuckle to yourself.

Steve stands, smacking off the sand on his pants. He takes hold of your shoulders and leans you close to the waves as they crash against your ankle.

“Oh my god, Steve! You know I can’t swim.”

Steve is laughing like crazy, teasing you. He takes hold of your waist in a second, carrying you as far into the ocean as he can while you’re shrieking. 

He twirls you as you grip his hands tight, digging your nails into his skin and still screaming to be put down.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He says into your ear and drops you on your ass. The overwhelming cold and seaweed cover your body as you try to stand only to be wiped out by a wave. 

Steve is howling in hysterics, clapping like a seal.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill you!” You don’t sound too threatening, if anything your wet appearance was akin to that of a wet kitten just meowing in protest. 

Steve runs and dodges you, moving in a zig-zag pattern as you try your best to chase him through the water.

“You’ll never catch me!” He fronts. 

Anticipating him to move in a pattern, you wait till he moves to the left to start running to the right and knock him down against the sand with a hmph!

“Gotcha!” You exclaim, putting your hands on his chest and completely unaware of the position you’re in. 

You’re straddling him, legs on both sides and your face is inches away from his trying to catch your breath. He smells like salt and champagne.

He’s frozen in place too, one of his hands firmly on your lower back. 

Your eyes flicker from his to the rest of his face, focusing on the moles decorating his neck. He can smell your perfume still even through the saltwater. It inundates his senses, disorienting him momentarily. Your necklace dangles and touches his chin, taunting him. 

This is the moment you’ve been looking for, the one that the movies oh so love to display over and over again. Something in you tells you to do it, to just lean down and see if he tastes like you do. 

Instead, he pushes you to the side softly, catching his breath and patting your thigh. “I guess you got me.”

You nod, taking your dress by the ends of it to walk back onto dry land and leave him sitting there. You’d see him back at the hotel anyway.

@mochminnie​, @wolfish-willow​

[lavenderek]

So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya

[yonacausesproblems]

Character Development Task

Basics

Name → Yona Greenspan Onasis

Age → 21

Date of Birth → October 17, 1999

Hair → It’s brown, it’s long, and I use plenty of conditioner. But mostly brown!

Eye Color → Also brown. Did you ever see that post going around saying something like “imagine if everyone had the same hair color as their eye color?” And it was clearly someone excited about the idea of having blue hair? I’m definitely from that universe.

Accent (If any) → Imagine someone with a light New York City accent who doesn’t have an ear for accents kind of mimics how everyone speaks in Icaria... but has no idea that she’s doing it. I sound awful.

Height → Sometimes I tell people I’m 5′4.5″ or 5′5″ but I’m lying. Even when I measure myself first thing in the morning, I’m still 5′4″. Should I invest in deceptively tall footwear to give me that extra inch?

Weight → I go to the doctor, and they tell me a number, and I forget. 

Tattoos or piercings and where → I actually don’t have any?? Kind of considering bringing back stick-on earrings

Birthmarks (if any) → I don’t really remember because I can’t tell if some of these things are moles or freckles???

Scars (if any) → On my hands! I’m good with my hands.

Left or right handed → Right. Have I mentioned that I’m good with my hands?

Single or taken? → Single, but I am b e g g i n g someone nice to take one for the team and date me. I have a pretty good sense of humor, I’ll give you exclusive rights to play with my hair, and I know the entire script of Mean Girls by heart. I’m not going to mention I’m good with my hands again.

Are you happy? → I don’t feel comfortable answering this question if it’s going to be a semi-permanent answer. Happy is a feeling and mood. While everything feels pretty good right now, I can’t tell you whether or not I’ll be devastated in five minutes.

How do you dress? → A lot of black but also a lot of bright colors. It’s a bit eclectic since I get most of my clothes from the thrift store, and I’m not trying to conform to a particular aesthetic. But sometimes my parents ask me if I’m trying to become a raccoon which is unfair because I don’t wear that much eyeliner every day. Just a lot of days.

Is there anything you want to change about yourself? → Probably my go-to pair of shoes. They’re starting to wear out a little. Oh you mean something important? Maybe I’d like to be more sure of what I’m doing.

Facts about your family

Mortal parent’s name and occupation → Uhhhhh well. My mom who had me was named Arielle Greenspan? She was supposedly a consultant. I have literally no idea what that means. It sounds like someone that you don’t hire but supposedly knows what they’re doing tells you everything your doing wrong. I’ve been told she was successful. At what? I don’t know.

Deity you’re related to → Charon

Siblings (if any) → Anyone through Dad. Charon Dad. I don’t know who else he’s knocked up. So Romeo is definitely one of my siblings. Oh! Phoebe was briefly my foster sister. Does that count? I don’t know, but I’ve already answered, so I can’t take it back.

Hometown → I was born in Nyack, NY but I haven’t been back there since I was like... seven? So Icaria.

About love….

Believe in love at first sight →  I think so

Who ended your last relationship? →  The fates?

Have you ever broke someone’s heart →  Probably?

Afraid of committing to someone →  To the extent that I’m not ready to move in together and adopt a lot of dogs yet.

Hugged someone in the last week →  Yeah! Wait, this can be family, right?

Have you ever had a secret admirer →  Clearly they’re still keeping it a secret if so.

Has anyone ever broke your heart →  Yes :( I get my heart broken all the time.

Ten Choices

Love or lust → Love, but there’s nothing that wrong with lust, right?? There’s just something about the word ‘lust’ that feels like something to hide. Does anyone else get that vibe?

Friendship or love →  If we’re talking about which I couldn’t survive without, friendship. But I really want love :( 

Coffee or Tea → Probably coffee, but I mostly just drink too much Red Bull

Cats or dogs →  Dogs

A few best friends or many friends → Many friends

Television or internet →  Internet. Is this a trick question? I can get television through the internet.

Pepsi or Coca-Cola →  Pepsi? I prefer Dr. Pepper

Wild night or romantic evening → Wild night  ​

Day or night →  You may be thinking... “Yona, this is obvious. You said you want a wild night, so you’re going to pick night.” No. I am picking day, and you can’t stop me.

Summer or Winter → Listen, there is something sacred about summer vacation. I’m not looking forward to losing it eventually.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 1 Trial: What Are the Odds (#19)

“There’s still a period of time we haven’t talked about much.”

“Before game night began?”

“But he had no chance to ingest poison during that time, yes?”

“How quickly you mortals forget.”

“Right. And if he was walking normally when the game started, there’s nothing left to discuss.”

“But there is still something to discuss about his water run.”

“Like, when he left to refill his water bottle?”

“Oh, I was there for that!!”

“You an’... Aki, right?”

“Are you both sure you never left Kazusuke’s side?”

“I mean, he was pretty much talking to me the whole time, so I think I’m sure, yeah!”

“Even I would have remembered if he’d run off...”

“And did anyone else visit the water fountain at the time? No one else left my room, of course!”

“That just leaves Room 104. But the girls' only trip was to the bathroom, and someone would have spoken up by now if Itsurou, Arthur, or Ichiriki left then.”

“Right?”

“Yeah, we were just sittin’ around talkin’ about some of the lore or whatever. Nobody left the room.”

“Yeah...”

“Ichiriki, Miss Tamiko, and I left the room some time later, of course, but by then 'twas clearly too late.”

“Right. His f-foot had been broken long before 10:30...”

“...Mary Jane.”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“You said you and Kazusuke... were messing around at the fountain, right?”

“Uh-huh! He’s a goober!”

“...Was a goober.”

“Oh? And what, pray tell, does this ‘messing around’ entail?”

“Remember that the Holy Assassin is fit to judge your actions.”

“That’s probably not the best way to get the truth outta somebody, mate.”

But Mary Jane doesn’t seem all that perturbed. Just sleepy.

“Uhhhhh...”

“We tried to arm wrestle, ‘cept it didn’t really work without a table, I guess? And then we were just kinda messing around.”

“How incredibly unspecific.”

“Mary Jane... Tell me if I’m wrong, but...”

Huh? Oh, that? Um… We were talking about, uh, something, and I think it led into something about trying to arm wrestle each other? ‘Cept it was really hard to do, like, on top of the water fountain? So we just kinda pushed each other around a little bit.

He didn’t fall down once! It was really impressive!

Yeah?

I mean I stomped on his foot the one time, so I don’t think he could’ve fallen even if he really wanted to then, but…!

“...didn’t you say you stomped on his foot?”

“Huh? Yeah, I think so!”

“.....!”

“......”

“.......”

“What? It was just to keep him from falling over!”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him or anything! Don’t worry!”

“...”

“Miss Shitanaga. Can you confirm that this took place?”

“Um...”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

“Sounded real confident.”

“Sorry...”

That’s about as confident-sounding as she gets, Kaichi.

“So... then...”

“Tamiko. You said he may not have said anything about his foot because he was embarrassed, right?”

“Yea.”

“Reckon a fella like him’d be pretty darn embarrassed to get his foot broken by a girl.”

“That seems consistent with his character, I’d say.”

“Is this... really...”

“Wait... Wait! Do you think I broke his foot?!”

“Not many people had the chance. It wasn’t anyone at our table.” 

“And you admit you stomped on his foot. You’re pretty strong, aren’t you?”

“I definitely woulda won that arm-wrestling match if we actually had it!”

“Not sure ‘s the time t’ be bragging, brah.”

“Is that it? It was Ma-r-r-ry Jane?”

“Huh? No way! I wouldn’t kill anybody, silly!”

I... don’t think she understands that she could have done it without meaning to. But is she really responsible for this?

There’s no concrete proof. We don’t even know if Kazusuke’s foot was really broken. I want her to be innocent, but can we prove it either way?

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud cry.

“Mister Monochaperone!!!”

“Eek...! Wh-what did I do...?!”

“You told us this was a murder case when, in reality, you couldn’t even make a decent argument for criminally negligent manslaughter!!”

“It’s completely unreasonable to assert that Miss Taima had any sort of killing intent, and a great many factors were necessary for this to become fatal besides! The original stomp! The fit that may have allowed the embolism to escape the wounded area! Mister Shintsuu refusing to admit he needed medical attention! Mister Shintsuu leaving the room by himself of his own accord! The precise placement of the table upon which he just so happened to fall!”

“Surely you understand that with all of the parties that had to be involved, it’s completely and utterly nonsensical to hold any one person responsible!!! This was nothing but a freak accident!!”

“That’s true...”

“Wh-what?! B-but there is a killer...!”

“Wh-what do you even mean, m-make a case? I’m not a lawyer...!”

“...W-wait, do lawyers make good waifus?”

“Depends on the video game, I guess...”

“Screw your waifu shit, there is no killer! I refuse to vote for an innocent person!”

“U-um, u-u-u-um....”

“...How do you know you’re all innocent? Th-that no one had lethal intent?”

“What the hell do you mean, how do we know?! Do you really think Mary Jane is some criminal mastermind who predicted exactly how this incredibly unlikely chain of events would have wound up? Or that Kanagi somehow intentionally rolled 20s so Kazusuke would hurt himself? Or that Mahavir knew someone was going to fall headfirst on that table if he placed it just so?”

“Or that Aidan arranged the game night tables and the three-person rule so someone had the chance to assault Kazusuke when he needed more water? Or that Itsurou decided to set up in Room 104 so the table in 103 would still be an obstacle to anyone who happened to fall on it and die?”

“How could anyone have predicted any of this?! WHAT KIND OF GODDAMNED CONSPIRACY DO YOU THINK THIS IS?!”

“It sure ain’t murder if nobody wanted to kill anyone!”

“And we can’t say there’s a killer when it took, like, half the class to set it up!”

“W-wait, wait...!”

“Th-there is too a killer...!”

“Even if they end up with a lot of help—”

“—and I’m not saying that has to be the case here! A waifu wouldn’t spoil things like that...!—

“—it’s their fault the victim is dead! And that’s who you have to determine to win the class trial!”

“But how are we sup-p-p-posed to know who that is?!”

“A true waifu would tell us himself.”

“H-h-hey! You can’t...!”

“It’s my job to make sure the trial goes the way it should! And his job is a waifu’s number-one responsibility...!”

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t try.”

“B-b-but how can you say the trial is going the way it should when we have no way to determine the killer...?!”

“But there is a way to determine the killer!”

“Okay! What is it?”

“I-I can’t just tell you! You can figure it out for yourselves!”

“You’ve made it this far, after all...!”

We can figure out who Monochap thinks the murderer is? How are we supposed to do that?

And since there is no murderer no matter what he says, should we even try to figure it out...?

[NEXT]

[gaperezmakes]

Original Fic Fest Day 4 -- Quotes (Black Empire)

Let’s see...@originalficfest Prompt 4 “Quotes.”

“Quotes.”

Hmm...

I don’t know if there’s any one scene that encapsulates the essence of the Black Empire series, or even Insurrection alone. This is a tough one.

So instead, I’ll pull the best quote or moment that I think encapsulates a character, as well as my personal favorite quote or moment that I wrote for them.

And to be clear: This is only what I’ve written in Insurrection. I don’t want to spoil anything that’s happening in the future.

Retribution & The Harvester

Best Moment:

“What a pity.” Retribution began stroking his chin, “Looks like we’ll have to deal with them a bit longer then. Oh well. You wouldn’t happen to know what exactly we lost to them, would you?” “No, sire. I don’t know what we had in the warehouse we lost.” “Well, you’d best find someone who would know then. We need to know what we’re preparing for now that the Children have an appropriate amount of supplies to actually fight.” “Yes, my lord.” [The Harvester] quickly hobbled out. As he heard the door close, Retribution turned around and looked at it with a smug smile. “You know exactly what you had in there, and so do I.” He whispered, “I’ve told you time and time again that I would make you regret betraying me. It’s your own fault for not believing me.”

I like this snippet because it really boils down the dynamic between these two characters. I don’t want to spoil the Harvester’s ambitions too much, but it does believe Retribution is losing his touch and thinks it might be time for a change in regime. Retribution, on the other hand, is aware of the Harvester’s treachery but is not at all threatened by it. This may, or may not, be an issue in the future.

Favorite Retribution Moment:

Retribution is here. The thought kept running through Mira’s head as she stared at him, wide-eyed and fearful.

*

“He’s WHERE?!” The news shocked the Dealer so much that he couldn’t dodge from Alexander’s next attack. He rolled and recovered, fully expecting another attack, but Alexander was just standing still. He couldn’t believe the news either.

Not to get too spoilery, but this happens at the climax of the story. I love this moment because it shows that even while everyone is at their strongest, while they think they have figured everything out, Retribution is still the biggest, baddest one of them all. They are prepared to deal with anything and everything--except him.

Favorite The Harvester Moment:

“If that’s how you want it to be.” The figure quickly raised another shield to absorb the incoming spells from the other Children [of Shadow]. ONe of the other death knights came running in from the side, and it quickly collapsed the ground beneath the death knight. As the other came in, it raised a number of pillars direclty beneath it, knocking the death knight way. The figure saw Gideon running back again, and grimaced.

Now, this moment is immediately followed up by the Harvester’s hubris getting the better of it, but I like how much power this moment shows it has. It’s not just another run-of-the-mill soldier in Retribution’s army. The Harvester is a powerful force that is meant to be reckoned with.

Dante/The Dealer

Best Moment

“Nothing’s wrong.” He suddenly realized she was there again. “I’m not looking for anything.” “Someting is clearly wrong.” [Mira] stepped forward slowly. “You’re not like this.” He let out a bitter chuckle, “You don’t know anything about me.” he took a few short breaths, “Not a damn thing.” “I’d like to think I know something about you.” “Then how about my marriage, huh? You know how well that worked out for me? What about how well my relationship with my son’s mother turned out? Hell, what about my son? Did you even know he existed?” He lashed out at her. “You know what happened to all of them? Spoilers: They’re all dead now.” Suddenly he fell to his knees and held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

This is Dante at his lowest and marks a very important moment in both his character arc and his relationship with Mira. And I think it’s the most important because it is one of the few moments where it is purely Dante. There is no mask on. There is no snark, no wit, just anger and bitterness.

At the same time, this is the moment where he learns to accept his past and move on. It’s pretty big for him.

Favorite Moment

“Because I happen to have dashing good looks, endless charisma, and unbelievable sexual prowess.”

I just like this line. It might be my favorite in all of Insurrection.

Grand Paladin Sigurd Orvyn

Best & Favorite Moment

“No.” Orvyn’s voice was stern and bitter. He gripped his weapon tightly, “I am tired of being compared to Mira. Nobody else will do that--especially not you.” “It seems I’ve struck a nerve.” Retribution grinned maniacally, “Good.”

Orvyn is a little more difficult to find good moments for because he doesn’t get introduced until much later in Insurrection. But this is really his first chance to come into his own and establish himself both as his own character and as someone completely separate from Mira.

Archmage Synoth of the South Sea

Best Moment:

“Your power isn’t enough to stop it. The Harvester will crush you before you can even lift a finger to stop him. I can keep that from happening. However, when the day comes where we storm the Black Tower and dismantle the Black EMpire, I want you to promise me something.” There was suddenly a newfound determination in his eyes, “Promise me that I’ll be on the front lines so I can destroy that soulless bastard.”

So, Synoth was difficult to find a good moment for, mostly because I think he doesn’t have a lot of them? He’s certainly more of a background player than any of the other leaders of the Prime. So, while I don’t think this is the height of his character or story arc, I think it does a pretty good job of establishing him and his goals.

Favorite Moment:

“We’ll have it open in just a moment,” one of the party members whispered. They quickly started working on picking the lock. “Mira, Synoth, give me a report,” the Dealer said while waiting. “The door is locked, sir,” Synoth replied with one eyebrow cocked up.

Sassy Synoth is best Synoth.

(Warden) Ellis the Damned

Best Moment:

“ENOUGH!” He slammed his fist onto the podium, leaving an imprint in the wood. “Listen to yourselves! You should ALL be ashamed!” The outburst easily got the paladins’ attention, but Ellis didn’t give them a chance to respond, “How dare you?! How dare any of you?! This is NOT how a Deathwatch Guardian is supposed to behave! We are supposed to protect the Prime, not become a threat to it!” One of the Guardians started to speak up, “But NOTHING! There is no excuse for this behavior! I am disappointed in each and every one of you!”

As I’m sure I’ve said before, Ellis is my favorite concept of a character. He is this powerful, ancient being whose backstory is shrouded in mystery and he is cursed to wander the world alone. But despite his curse, he longs so badly to belong to something once again. And now he’s found a place that finally accepts him as he is. When a threat from within shows itself, Ellis quickly puts his foot down and quells the unrest.

Favorite Moment:

“Fine. So people just accept that they’re not going to be the most powerful mage--” Ellis laughed, “Oh yes, they accept it as much as an inadequate man accepts his inadequacies.” The Dealer’s eyes opened wide and he blinked a few times, “Did...did you just... Did I hear that right?” “Yes. Yes, you did.” “Huh.” He looked away, “ I never thought I’d hear you say something like that.” “I’m dead, not humorless.”

Ellis is such a serious and stoic guy that I just feel like his jokes hit harder and are a lot funnier when he says them.

Demon Lord Alexander

Best Moment:

Alexander rolled his head and popped the vertebrae in his neck. “I’m mildly annoyed,” he responded coldly. “Are you done? Because I’m ready to show you exactly waht a dead man can make you regret.” Gideon’s eyes widened and in the blink of an eye, Alexander was right in front of him. In another blink and three punches, Alexander had successfully floored Gideon, rendering the death knight unconscious.

Alexander gets so frequently beaten and embarrassed by the Prime that it’s easy to forget that he’s actually the second-strongest being on the planet (Dusk doesn’t count). His fight against Gideon proves that Alexander is just as strong as he says. It’s just a shame that his team isn’t as organized as the Prime’s.

Favorite Moment:

“That spell circle you have, will it work on Retribution?” Dante raised an eyebrow, “I’m not sure if you think I’m stupid or really that desperate?” “I always think you’re stupid, and at this moment I’m certain you’re desperate. Unless you have another way out, I need to know if the circle will work on Retribution.”

For all the grief I give him, Alexander actually can come up with a good strategy on the fly. It might not always work out for him, but he can think on his feet pretty well.

Also the sass. Sassy moments are my favorite if you couldn’t tell.

Acheroth

Okay, let’s see.

Uh...

Uhhh...

Uhhhhh...

Acheroth might be boring, y’all. I mean, he is. Absolutely. He has almost no character and exists entirely to move the plot along, but I figured he had at least one good moment in Insurrection.

He does not. But I promise he gets more interesting in the next book!

Dusk of Iblis

Best Moment:

Now Dusk was laughing, “You take them from me? Alexander, you seem to have forgotten that I’ve always bested your father in combat. I didn’t even see you right now, and I still managed to avoid every attack you’ve thrown at me.”

Dusk is another character who doesn’t get a whole lot of moments in Insurrection, mostly because he’s pushed back to a secondary role. Dusk is one of the few characters who gets to brag and doesn’t ever face some sort of karmic retribution for his arrogance. He’s done his time to earn it. So it’s okay.

Favorite Moment:

“Can you use multiple gates in succession to constantly increase how something accelerates?” “Yes.” “So theoretically--” Dusk put his hand up to stop Dante, “If you want to discuss theory with me, we can do it later. Right now we have a tyrant to overthrow, a cult to disband, and a pair of anomalies that may or may not destroy everything. We can have fun discussing the possibilities of the various aspects of my universe later.”

This was me telling myself to focus and keep the story moving. The future me appreciated this note from the past me.

Mira the Sunlight Paladin

Best Moment:

"I am the first to use the power of the Light ever since you sealed off Heaven from the world! I am the phoenix which rose from the ashes!” A set of armor made of pure Light began to surround Mira. “I am the Sunlight Paladin, and you will fear the full power of Iblis!” She jumpe into the air and readied her hammer, “FEEL THE STRIKE OF THE IBLAN PHOENIX!”

This is another moment that happens right at the climax, so I feel bad for including it, but I think this shows that Mira has finally accomplished the goal she has been working towards the entire book. This is Mira at her peak, flexing all of her magical muscle. And now both her dads are watching their precious child be all strong, except now one of them is her boyfriend dad and I don’t want to talk about this anymore, can we move onto the favorite moment?

Favorite Moment:

She took a few steps back and everyone watched, mouths agape, as Mira began to levitate in the air. She maintained her position for a bit then descended back onto the floor. “You can fly?!” “Not for very high or for very long.” She replied, taking a deep breath, “It takes a lot of energy. I mean, I could go really fast or really high, but I wouldn’t be able to sustain either.”

Mira’s ability to fly is a big deal. Way back in the day, everyone could fly. Now it’s a very restrictive talent. Only a few can do it. And she was.

Gideon the Destroyer

Best Moment:

“Gideon, what are you thinking?” He looked at the other death knight sternly, “Why would you invite the Dealer to compete in Xi-En’raas?” “Because he is worthy of it.” Gideon crossed his arms defiantly.

This is the moment that reveals a lot about Gideon, about who he is and what he does. I don’t want to spoil too much, but Xi-En’raas is a big deal, and the Dealer simply receiving an invitation means a lot. The fact that it is Gideon inviting him means so much more.

Favorite Moment:

He began to channel magic into the skull again, “My brothers are dead.” He slammed his hand and the skull onto the ground, shattering it and releasing all the magic within. Suddenly the entire building started shaking and the room began to collapse around them. A bolt of stabilizing magic tore through the room, destroying a pillar and bringing down more of the ceiling. Gideon stood and began walking towards the king, who was absolutely paralyzed with fear. The death knight grabbed the king’s face and forced him to stare into his unnatural glowing blue eyes. After a single deep breath, Gideon finally whispered, “And you killed them.”

I feel like this is the most powerful moment of Gideon’s story. This is from a flashback in the story, where Gideon is finally getting the revenge he so desperately sought. He’s nowhere near his peak but is still devastatingly powerful. At this moment, it is clear why his title is The Destroyer.

And that is that. We made it, and it took me a lot longer than it should have, but it’s done! If you feel like seeing which quotes or scenes I enjoyed from Rebirth and the Iblan Light series, feel free to look at my other post here! Hopefully, it won’t take me three days to finish!

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

IT’S OFFICIAL

I’m finally on AO3 and can finally post my work there!

Not Enough? You Are...Everything A look inside Jim Halpert's mind as he pines over, misses, dates, and eventually marries Pam Beesly. A mostly canon re-telling of the full series through Jim's eyes (with certain snippets through Pam's eyes as well)

Here is an updated list of links:

AO3|FF|MTT

PLEASE read, review, comment, etc.

I’ll also post Chapter One (Season One) under the cut.

Also, please comment here or on any of the sites linked above with any additional scenes or full episodes you’d like to see done this way. I would love to do any Jim/Pam scenes from someone else’s POV, or really any scene at all from the POV of any character! This story was REALLY fun for me to do :)

Jim had never intended to fall in love with the girl who sat across from him every day. He had never intended to date anyone from work, so when he found himself with a crush on a girl he had no choice but to stare at for a good portion of the day, he was almost grateful she was engaged.

Almost.

"So, are you going to Angela's cat party?" she's asking him, and he laughs because the idea of a cat party is absurd, but also because he always laughs when he talks to her. Everything seems funny when she says it, and he's fairly certain he's never laughed so much in his life as he does from that spot at reception, with his hands hanging over the desk, almost touching hers.

And when Dwight pulls out the Jell-O encased stapler and she laughs like that, it's almost more than his heart can take. If she didn't laugh like that - a hiccup-y laugh that means he knows he's caught her off guard, done something extraordinary - he might have stopped pranking Dwight ages ago. But if it makes her laugh, he'll keep doing it forever. He loves her laugh.

Shit. Jim is in trouble, because he is in deep. And he is in deep over a committed woman. And God, he'd never want her heart broken the way it would be if Roy left her, but he also knows that a jerk like Roy definitely doesn't deserve a girl like Pam. He knows it's dangerous to put a woman on a pedestal like that, but he also knows that Roy is literally The Worst ™ .

Well, except for maybe Dwight. But that's a whole different story.

But really, he knows Roy keeps her from socializing with her co-workers - and yeah, okay, maybe he's being a little selfish and obvious there, wanting her to go out for drinks and then bailing when Roy says she can't go, but he DOES like spending time with...some of the people from the office. He knows Roy doesn't appreciate her art - which is REALLY good, by the way. And if he doesn't appreciate her art, does he really appreciate her?

Okay, that's a stretch and he knows it. But he still wonders.

He tries to make conversation with Roy, tries to see what she sees in him. Maybe if he could make himself like Roy, he could make himself stop loving her. But Roy is not as chatty, not as bright and bubbly and friendly as Pam. And Roy does not want to talk to Jim. Ever.

And when Jim sees Pam leave the bathroom, clearly trying to hide the fact that she's been crying, he immediately wants to comfort her. He wants to go to her, hug her, tell her whatever happened, it's going to be okay. A tiny part of him hopes that it's about Roy, but that's stupid because he knows Roy is waiting for her outside in that dumpy old truck, that nothing between them could have possibly transpired in the last 10 minutes or so. Right?

But either way, the urge to comfort her is so strong, but he knows that's inappropriate. So instead he just casually asks her about her headache, and she awkwardly asks if he wants to walk out with her, and he's about to grab his coat and really try to savor these few moments completely alone with her…when a truck honks and suddenly she's back to reality, back to her fiance. And Jim is back to being alone, watching the girl he's in love with leave to go home with the man she's in love with - the one who isn't him.

He has learned, over time, to cherish the small moments. The moments when the office is bustling and he and Pam both have nothing to do but observe the madness. The times when he can stand at reception and laugh at Dwight's antics or Stanley's unforgiving attitude. He dangles his hands over the desk, inches away from her fingers, daring himself to grab her hand with his own. He never does, but God does he want to.

It's strange to see another face at the desk when Ryan takes over reception during the horrible, awkward Diversity Day antics. Jim walks over out of habit, feeling awkward once he arrives. He makes conversation with Ryan to ease the strange tension he's feeling. He's barely listening to what Ryan is saying, but then something grabs his attention.

"She's cute, right?"

Cute? Cute doesn't begin to cover Pam Beesly. Pam is wonderful and smart, kind, open, and friendly. Pam is talented and-

"Yeah, but, y'know, she's engaged."

He tries to play it cool, but inside he is screaming. Now the temp is interested in her, too? He knows she'd never go for Ryan, but then again, he certainly didn't see her with a guy like Roy when he found out she was-

"Oh I meant the...the girl in the sketch."

….oh. And Jim can breathe again. He mumbles something about her being hot and pretends to watch whatever Ryan has on the screen. He's already forgotten, more focused on the fact that he needs to stop being jealous over a girl that isn't even his.

Later, he sneaks back into the conference room, feeling defeated over the loss of his biggest client - to Dwight of all people - and breathes a small sigh of relief that the seat next to Pam is still open. It's a small thing, being able to sit next to her. But in another life, she'd comfort him after his rough day, tell him he could go out and get an even bigger client tomorrow. He's imagining this, not listening to a word Michael is saying, when he feels a soft pressure on his shoulder. He turns, and sees her curls very close to his face. He can smell her shampoo. She's leaning on him. She's fallen asleep on his shoulder.

And now he's seeing them curled up on the couch, watching a movie. Seeing a life where Pam falls asleep on his shoulder all the time - she seems the type to fall asleep and then wake up and ask when they're going to bed. And he's hearing her voice, sleepy and wistful, and he's carrying her upstairs-

And suddenly everyone is leaving the conference room. And he waits, cherishing this moment, trying to get back to his imagined reality before the real world comes crashing down around him. He smiles as he wakes her. He whispers softly to her, the same way he imagines he'd wake her up if she had fallen asleep on the couch. She wakes up and walks out of the room with barely a word.

It's the first time he's ever sad to see the end of a Michael Meeting.

"Uhhhhh, not a bad day," he tells the crew. The champagne celebration long forgotten, he knows he's going to remember this day for a long time.

It actually kind of amazes Jim sometimes that no one has called him out for his time at reception. He tries to do it subtly, casually, when no one is really looking that way, but then someone interrupts them and he feels caught, cornered. Even if the conversation is innocent and casual, he feels like he should be in trouble for being at reception, talking to Pam.

He also finds it hard to hide his annoyance at the constant interruptions. He knows it's wrong to be annoyed, because really, he's not supposed to be there anyway - for a multitude of reasons - but he can't help but roll his eyes when Michael interrupts a sentence with some offensive impression or random question for Pam.

But when Michael interrupts one of his favorite moments of the day to ask him to do some menial task, Jim can't help but roll his eyes. He barely listens to whatever it is Michael wants him to do and instead offers an immediate escape route for himself: "Dwight."

He does not, however, anticipate the consequences of his actions. The power that goes to Dwight's head over the smallest task is amazing. He and Pam decide to confront the beast together. They enter his lair - his workspace, if you will - and face him side-by-side. It does not go well.

The good news is that now he has another excuse to talk to Pam as they make up - er, properly notate… - diseases together.

"Don't write Ebola or Mad Cow Disease," he warns her, and he laughs at her surprised face. She thinks he doesn't want her writing anything false, making a joke out of this nonsense Dwight has presented them with? Pshaw, she should know him better. "Because I'm suffering from both," he adds, and she finally laughs, relief evident in her smile. They spend a good chunk of the day - time he should be spending making sales calls - creating fake names.

"Spontaneous Dento-Hydroplosion," he suggests, with a look of confidence. He relishes in the look she gives him in return, clearly impressed with his idea. He sticks that look into the compartment in his brain of Things He Loves About Pam.

Later, another interruption when he is just trying to spend some time with his girl- erm, best friend. This time, from Dwight. He barely listens, but one thing sticks out in the list of false diseases Dwight is reading:

"Killer nano robots?"

"It's an epidemic," Pam responds. And it's his turn to be impressed.

As payback for this interruption - and, of course, for just generally being a jerk to the whole office - he locks Dwight in his workspace. Dwight calls from inside the room and Jim is humoring him until, oh thank God, there she is. The extension number for the reception desk pops up on his phone. And with Dwight yelling in the background, they have a meaningless conversation, where he can picture her face while not even looking at her. And he know it was just a prank on Dwight, that she's just being silly, but he'll always take any excuse to talk to her that he can get his hands on.

Of course, Dwight hands him another "talk to Pam ALL DAY" gift the day he asks for an alliance. The downsizing rumors haven't really bothered Jim all this time. He does his job. He arrives on time, never leaves early. He hardly ever calls off. He tries his best to stay under the radar, not doing so well as to be named Salesman of the Month, ahem, but doing well enough to get by. And he's competent enough that Michael seems to always want to give him all of these tasks, despite the fact that he never wants to take them on.

And maybe, on the off-chance that he did get let go, he could actually move on with his life and stop thinking about the girl at reception that he had to see day in and day out for all these years.

And yet, he spends his time in this alliance with Dwight, talking with that very girl. He has an excuse, as far as Dwight is concerned anyway.

"There may be chatting and giggling and you just gotta pretend to ignore it, wipe it away," he's telling Dwight. And he buys it. So now he can just sit at reception and talk to Pam about absolutely nothing, and someone will back him up if he's ever asked why.

When Jim pranks Dwight alone, it's pretty good. He's come up with some insanely creative ideas, some more subtle than others. But when Jim and Pam combine forces and prank Dwight together, they're unstoppable. By midday, they've got Dwight in a box in the warehouse, listening to pretend phone calls that Pam is making about the downsizing.

They work so well together, and he can't help but love her even more whenever they do stuff like this together.

"She's...so...great," he hears himself tell the crew during an interview session. At this point, they've all gotta know how he's feeling. Of everyone in this office, that crew has to know. Michael is oblivious to everything, and everyone else there is so absorbed in their own stuff, there's no way they've noticed. They're also nosy - unapologetically so - so if they'd noticed his constant visits to reception, one of them would have questioned him about it ages ago.

But the camera crew, they know. They see the look on his face when she walks in, see the tension whenever Roy comes upstairs. They see everything; it's their job. And maybe it should occur to him that someday, this will all be aired for the entire world to see, but at that point, he'll hopefully be long gone, the girl at reception long forgotten.

His real fantasy, of course, isn't that she's long forgotten, but that they're together. In this imagined future, she leaves Roy, comes to her senses, and he can finally tell her how he feels. He really, truly thinks there are times when she feels something, too. He also knows that she'd never give into any of those feelings while engaged to Roy. She's definitely not that type. And her feelings for Roy are real, he knows that, too. But the feelings she would have for him, he strongly suspects, would be much stronger. He tells himself on a daily basis that it will never happen, but he still holds out just a small shred of hope. Hope that, one day, when the camera crew finishes filming, however far into the future that may be, he'll be watching the final product with Pam by his side, and maybe their kids. Maybe a dog, too.

So he doesn't care when he slips up and says things that expose how he really feels about Pam. Not really.

The excitement of the final nail in the coffin on Dwight's alliance is killed immediately when Roy comes rushing in. Jim really is innocent, just playing a prank on an annoying workmate; he just got overly excited and affectionate with Pam. He'd been grabbing her hand to tell her how excited he was when suddenly the door slammed open and Roy was asking him if he was trying to cop a feel.

He's embarrassed, caught off guard. He's never had such a close call before, in all the times he's stood at that desk, so obviously flirting with her. He tries to explain, but of course Dwight is no help. Roy seems to back off once Pam explains that it's just office pranks.

He really should have been ready for that to happen eventually. But he usually stands on the opposite side of the desk. He's never had anything to worry about before.

But when he thinks of how her shampoo smells, how soft her hands are, he doesn't regret being that close to her. He doesn't, for one moment, wish he'd said his piece from the other side of that desk. Even if she hadn't stopped Roy and he'd come right across that desk and decked him square in the face, he doesn't think he would regret it.

The only reason he thinks twice about it is because Roy practically shoves Pam out the door. He knows Roy doesn't hit her; he knows Pam well enough that he'd be able to tell if something like that was going on, or at least he hopes so. But he does get rough, and Jim doesn't like that.

But, as always, there's nothing Jim can do. He's not her protector. He's just some guy, sitting at a desk, in love with the girl who sits across from him.

The day Michael makes them all bring gym clothes to change into just might be one of the most bizarre since he's started working at Dunder Mifflin. It starts off with Pam making a phone call about a toaster she'd received at her engagement party. Three years ago.

He's not happy that she's upset. He hates that she's upset about anything at all, ever. But he's a little happy that they still haven't set a date. How committed can Roy really be if he doesn't even want to set a date? He doubts Roy will do anything else when it comes to planning, so how hard is it for him to just pick a damn day? But again, Jim is a little happy that Roy is such a flake, just this once. It's bad enough pining after a girl with an engagement ring on her finger, reflecting in the bright fluorescent lights every day, reminding him that she's taken. But adding a wedding ring to that, making her Mrs. Pamela Anderson...well, that would be too much. All jokes about the name aside, it would be too much.

If they ever do set a date, he really might lose his mind, as if he hasn't already.

So, maybe he sounds a little smug when he talks about Pam needing to return something that was an engagement gift. But that's only because he really believes they'll never get married. She'll come to her senses. Even if she doesn't end up with him, she can't end up with a guy like Roy.

She just can't.

He knows it's dumb to be so competitive against Roy in this dumb game of basketball. At least he has the excuse of not wanting to work on Saturday. And honestly, if Roy and Pam hadn't started making out right next to him, maybe he wouldn't have gotten quite so competitive on the court. He tries to get Michael to let him guard Roy, but Michael is being Michael and won't hear it. Which is a shame because he has some choice words ringing in his ears that he'd love to get back at Roy for, suddenly:

"Tip it my way or you're sleeping in the car."

Still, Jim hears Pam's tiny little "Woop!" when he scores. And he loves that she's cheering for him. He loves it more because they both know she shouldn't be. After the close call at the desk, especially. But she cheers him on anyway, and he plays all the better for it. And when Michael finally gives in, lets him guard Roy, he plays better than he has since high school. He's blocking, stealing, shooting, scoring. He knows basketball isn't the way to Pam's heart, but it sure can't hurt to show her that he's better than Roy at something.

When Roy elbows him in the face, he feels like maybe it's karma. Like he deserves it for loving Roy's fiance, for trying to impress her. He keeps playing, but it's with a little less drama, a little less flair. A little less trying to impress Pam.

And he's excited his team wins, disappointed that Michael ruins it by being his usual self and now he'll have to come in on Saturday. But he's mostly excited that he actually is better than Roy at something. He's excited that Pam cheered for him. That she was impressed with more than just his pranks on Dwight. That she smiled at him while he played.

And now he's seeing her at one of his pickup games with his buddies. There's a hoop down the street and sometimes they'll play on an odd weekday holiday when they're all off with no plans. And he's imagining Pam sitting with all of the other wives and girlfriends, rolling their eyes at this group of grown men, playing basketball on their day off. And she's smiling at him in the same way, and they're remembering this moment right now, when he's just wiped the floor with the guy she was supposed to marry. And it's like this little inside joke-

But it's not real. She's really engaged to Roy and she's really leaving with him, talking about getting him into a tub. And Jim is really, really disappointed in that reality.

When a cute girl enters the office a few days later, he shouldn't be at all surprised by the ruckus it causes. He should know by now that anything with a slim figure and nice eyes will get Michael Scott's weirdest side to come out.

Still, he doesn't really see the big deal. She's just a girl. (Of course, he guesses, to some people, Pam is probably just a girl, too).

He wonders if the irony of Roy asking him what his type is will ever be humorous. He wonders if it's a moment he'll look back on and say, "See Pam? See the way I looked at your before I answered? And you didn't even notice!" or if he'll watch that moment alone, or with some other girl, and think about how weird it was for the fiance of the girl he was in love with to ask him what kind of girls he was interested in.

He wonders if he'll ever stop feeling weird about his awkward answer: "Moms."

He doesn't have to wonder if he'll ever stop hating Roy, though. That's a definite yes. Everytime Roy opens his mouth, Jim hates him more and more.

"We're not dating, we're engaged," and she's gone. He feels awful for Pam, truly. He feels awful that she's been with this guy for so long - high school sweethearts? He feels like maybe, just maybe, if she went on just one other date with one other guy, maybe she would realize that Roy isn't normal. Roy isn't the standard for dating. Normal guys, guys who care about the women they're with, don't make comments about other girls in front of them. They set wedding dates soon after proposing and then they stick with those dates. Normal guys, guys who are really in love with the person they're with, want to get married as soon as possible so that the rest of their lives can begin.

Right?

Still, after a day of antics, a day of awkwardness, a day which included Pam being tickled by Roy on Jim's own desk, Jim is pretty frustrated. So he asks Katie out. Not because he thinks she'll be the solution to his problems. But because she is pretty, and she's nice, and she took a chance coming into this office. And she put up with a lot of crap from Jim's weird co-workers, so he's gotta give her that; she's tough.

And maybe it's wrong for him to ask someone out to distract himself from his real life, but he can't help it. And maybe he's hoping that Katie will be The One. That she'll finally get his mind off of the engaged girl at reception.

But when he sees that tiny twinge of jealousy in Pam's eyes when he tells her he's going out with Katie this weekend, he knows that will never be the case. He still hopes he'll end up wrong, but he knows that little bit of jealousy has just reignited every feeling he's ever had for Pam. That bit of jealousy has kickstarted his hope that maybe, just maybe, he's got a chance.

[the-fiction-witch]

Tech Support

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SMUT AF

"hello welcome to tech support how can I assist?"I cheerfully gleam As I know if I don't then I will get fried "Hu? Ohh thank fuck, hi yeah my computer has completely locked up and I have no idea what to do" the sweet sounding male voice explains "it's glitching out and it won't let me long in" "Okay, how long have you had the computer?" I ask "Like six months maybe" he says sounding unsure of his answer "Okay, what where you doing when this happened?" I ask "Why do you wanna know what I was doing?" He asked a little shocked "I am an adult man I do not have to explain to anyone what I'm doing on a Friday night alone" "Doing on the computer sir" I smiled "Ohh... right" he says clearly blushing "Is Uhhh is this being recorded?" "I can not tell you that sir, some calls are monitored but I can't tell you if yours is or isn't" I explain even if I can tell mine isn't "I know but just...like between us?" He asked "It's not" I smiled "Okay... I was Uhhh watching some internet videos" he explained "Okay what site where you on?" I ask "Uhhhhh... Just a site" he blushed "is it really important?" "Yes sir the site could have been the cause of the problem" I explain "I was on..." He began but then a very fast mumble of something under his breath that I didn't at all catch "Sorry sir could you repeat that please" I ask "I was on... HotvidsXXX" he said quietly "Okay, and what where you doing on the site?" I ask "Watching videos" he answered "Anything else?" I ask "Why do you wanna know?!" He asked sounding a bit shocked "I mean any downloads? Cookies that sort of thing?" I ask "Oooohhh... No, just watching" he answered "Okay, can I get the account name on the computer?" I ask "I think it's tbspersonal but that might be wrong" he answered "Yes sorry no names come up for that, can you give me a run down of your account profile?" "Thomas, 29, ..." He began going on to explain the email and such he had the account with and I found it "Mr sangster then?" I ask "Yep" he sighed sounding tried "The name is tbspersonal 160590 for future reference" I smiled "Ohh that might have been why it wasn't working" he laughs "Probably" I laughed "So any ideas why it's glitching?" He asks "Well that site does seem to have alot of reports of malware and viruses so I would suggest it was that" I explain "So what do I do?" He asks "it's signed in now what?" "I would suggest making sure you have any data backed up and doing a full rest on your computer you have a lot of stuff causing this" I explain "Okay, how long will that take?" He asks "Is the files are already backedup about half an hour" I smiled "Half an- uuuggghh! Fine" he sighed "I would suggest as well getting some kind of anti virus to stop this happening again" I explain "and I would also suggest somewhere like pronhub or Reddit next time Mr sangster much safer" I smirked "Really? Any good videos you want to recommend to me?" He smirked "Well that would depend on alot of things" "Come on tech girl don't kid me you see inside my computer you can see all my searches all my internet history, you probably know what I like better then I do?" He smirked "I'll make sure there is a text file full of links when your computer boots up again" I smirk making him a nice little file "Really? Humm is that what you think I like or what you like?" He asked "Both" I smirked "Yeah? Uumm ummm, I'll be sure to call you up again after and tell you what I thought of them" he smirked his voice sounding different deeper and like he was breathing more "so...we have half an hour till it boots up again" he smirked "you wanna... maybe you know" he smirked "What?" I ask "Well...you work for tech support you gotta be a smart girl, you know what I was doing when my computer broke" he explained and I blushed a little of course I did and it was kinda cute such a sexy sounding guy was obviously still horny "and you have a very sexy voice" he smirked "Ohh do I Mr sangster?" I ask "Yeah you do" he smirked "although honestly honey I was near completion when my computer broke, I didn't need much just a girl voice and i was gonna wanna do it" he smirked "Your video was only on for five minutes" I giggled "What are you implying?" He asked a little worried "Nothing," I smirked "so what video exactly where you watching?" I ask "Ohh come on you know how far into it I was you know exactly what I was watching honey" he smirked "Still for security" I lie "You little liar, alright, it was some couple on a underground train having a grope and a fuck" he smirked "Very interesting" I smiled "I always wanted to do that," he smirked "grope someone in the tube" he smirked "Perhaps you will soon" I smirked "Yeah? Tell me what stop and what time you get off work and I'll arrange it honey" he smirked "Perhaps some other time" I smiled as I noticed many of the people on my floor going off home leaving if almost empty so I finished off the file leaving my number and a little note on the bottom "your computer should have booted up fine now?" I ask "Yeah it did, thanks Hun now before you race off where did you hide that little file for me?" He asks "In the like fourth new folder with other new folders" I smirked "Clever girl" he smirked "how did you know that's where I keep it?" He asked "Lucky guess" I smiled "Did you look in the folder?" He asks "Maybe" I shrug I hadn't but I will now he mentioned it so I checked the file full to the brim with pictures and gifs all of them sexy and smutty "Hummm well... if your a curious little thing you could always go in the other folder in there? If you felt adventurous?" He smirked and of course after that I couldn't not look in it, it had pictures Mostly nice normal pictures of a very very handsome blonde guy but mixed in a Few that where...not so innocent "Why do you have these?" I ask "Sometimes it's easier to have them all done ready Incase a sexy girl wants to see" he smirked "in fact... That's pretty new one" he smirked as a picture just was saved in the file I looked closely and saw a phone in it clearly on this number as well as him clearly jerking himself off "Humm when was that Mr sangster?"I ask "About five seconds ago honey" he smirked "come on please... just let me finish sexy girl" he pleads "That would be very inappropriate" I smirk "I know, you know it too... but you haven't stopped me have you?" He growled as I could start to hear him with his fast pumps and harsh breathing I couldn't help feeling the ache between my legs hearing him so I slipped my hand under my skirt gently rubbing on my panties "what are... Uuuuuhh oh my god! Your really?" He asks "Of course it's my job to assist you" I smirk trying to keep quiet incase someone heard me "Uhhhh ummm ummmmm, fucking hell! I never got this my action out a sex call with my ex girlfriend" he smirked "uhhhh! I'm close honey, finish me please" he begs "Uhhh... Thomas" I whined "Uuuuuhhh! Uhhh uuuuuhhh! Fuck! Honey! Oh my god!" He moans as he clearly finished I went to stop but he must have heard me "Ohh no you don't, were not finishing this till you cum too" he smirked "come on honey cum for me, dirt that little desk chair come on I want it dripping down your fucking legs by the time I'm done with you" he smirked "Uhhh uuuuhh" I groaned rubbing harder trying to be quiet and not draw attention to myself "Quiet honey, Don't want someone to hear you" he smirked "uhh fuck you sound sexy your making me hard again already sexy girl" he smirked "Uuhh uuhh thomas-" I groan getting close "Uhh fucking hell ..., I didn't expect you to be this sexy, he's throbbing for your sexy groans honey.... Keep going honey, daddy needs to jerk of again while he listens to you" he moans "Uuuhhhh!" I sqeualed as I finished I felt it dripping down my legs a little I really did need that as I haven't gotten off in months "Uhhh uuuuuhhh uuuuuhh!!" He moans quickly finishing for the second time "whoa... Lucky you included the number honey I was about to ask for it" he smirked "I'll call you later, on this one talk about what I thought if these videos" he smirked "Very good Mr sangster, I'm happy I could resolve your issue" I smiled "Yes you did honey, both of them" he smirked "Excellent and how would you rate this tech support call?" I ask "Extremely satisfied honey" he smirked "but you already knew that" he smirked So I wrapped it up and called off getting my stuff to go home 'miss you already honey Xxx' came thought as I stood on the train home and I blushed a little as an idea came into my head

Thomas' pov:

I smirked as I got some tea after all that needing to get my energy back up I had sent her a text already if nothing else so she had my number when my phone went off so I grabbed it and checked Sexy tech support Xxx😘💜💦: Miss you too, wish you where here to...as it's something you've always wanted to do 😜 Picture

The picture was a very very cute girl stood on the tube in a little skirt and top gently and secretly groping her breast and I couldn't take it Mr Sangster💦😘💦: What stop are you getting off at?

Sexy tech support Xxx 😘💜💦: Why?

Mr sangster 💦😘💦: I'm picking you up honey X which stop? I'll be waiting outside for you

And soon enough she gave me the answer so I got my keys and hopped on my bike across town and as soon as I got there a sexy cute girl came up from the station I recognized her from the picture she saw me and smiled widely a little nervous "Hey" she smiled fixing her hair "Hey" I smiled "so? You wanna ride home honey?" I offered and she blushed with a little nod

Timeskip: I yawned a little feeling her arms tight around me so I smirked pulling her closer "ummm good morning honey" I smirk kissing her sweet lips "Good morning Thomas" she yawns "So? What do you wanna get up to this morning?" I ask her and she smirked climbing into my lap so I smirked pulling her closer kissing those beautiful lips holding her hips and the small of her back so we where as close as we could be "Thomas?" She asks sweetly "Yes my love?" I asked running my fingertips slightly across her thighs in little ways I know she can't resist "Do you think we should tell people the truth?" She asked and I smirked pushing her down flat on our bed wrapping her legs around my waist "Honey, knowone needs to know that we met when I had broke my computer watching porn, that is our little secret isn't it?" I smirk grinding my morning wood against her wet cunt "it's our little secret, all that when we first met... because if someone found out about it we would both be in the shit for that call wouldn't we honey?" I smirked kissing down her neck and chest biting on her nightie "Mummy! daddy!" We heard running down the hall so we quickly out some distance between us as they ran in "Yes alright kids hello morning what do you want?" I ask lifting the two of them up into our bed "what have we told you about bursting into Mummy and daddies room unannounced?" I ask "We did announce we yelled" Mel giggled "Still, you know after bed time and before breakfast is mummy and daddies privet time," I warn "But where starving" luke whines "Alright kids go on go set the table mummy and daddy will be down in a minute" she tells them so they jumped off the bed and ran off downstairs "When will they learn not to bother us in the morning" I sigh "They will learn, just like the learnt not to watch mummy and daddies special movies" she smiled giving me a kiss and going down to start breakfast

[theartificialdane]

Galactica part 235

in this Courtney tells her story, Roxy has the hot goss, Adore makes up her mind, Raja tries to be a friend, and Fame’s rein of terror continues.

Thank you @veronicasanders @samrull and @toriibelledarling <3 You are all amazing!

Fame sighed and sat down on the couch, Charles running towards her, the big Great Dane laying his head in his owner’s lap.

“Hey big boy..” Fame kicked her shoes off and tugged on Charles ear, the dog growling but he allowed Fame to play with him, the dog accepting his mom’s teasing. “Did you have a good day? Did the dog walker take you to the park? Patrick, did Charles go to th-” Fame stopped, only just realizing what she had said, Charles perking up at the sound of Patrick name, clearly expecting Patrick to walk through the door. Charles tail wagged back and forth, the dog's mouth open, his tongue out. “Ssh, Charles, sssh. Sit, sit.” Fame grabbed Charles and pulled him down, the dog sitting. “You silly dog, we’re all alone Charles…” Fame felt tears well up in her eyes. “We’re all alone…”

***

“Okay, so, I need another drink, now that this bitch is here,” said Bethenny, handing her empty glass to Carole, giving Bianca air kisses.

“Hey, Bethenny. Haven’t seen you for years. You look horrible,” Bianca greeted her.

Bethenny threw back her head and laughed. “I know, right? I’ve been having this weird thing, I’m like bleeding a lot, it’s a whole vagina thing. Who’s this?” she gestured to Vanity, whose face was in a deep grimace at the mention of the word “vagina.”

“This is my brother, Ben - or, Vanity…” Courtney turned to Vanity. “How am I supposed to introduce you?”

“Vanity Fair, charmed,” she simpered, holding her hand out.

“Jesus. So you’re the normal one?” Bethenny asked Courtney.

“Yeah,” Courtney nodded.

“Oy. Thank you.” Bethenny accepted the fresh cocktail from Carole.

“Courtney, Adam wants you to know that everything tonight is farm to table locally sourced vegan,” said Carole. “He’s not being rude, he’s just very focused in the kitchen.”

Courtney clapped her hands excitedly.

Bianca looked at Bethenny as they followed Carole to the living room. “I hope you smuggled in some cheese.”

“Yeah, I got a wheel of brie in my purse,” Bethenny giggled.

“Perfect.”

“So Courtney, how did you and Bianca meet?” asked Carole, as everyone took their seats around a low table.

“I’m best friends with her sister,” Courtney said. “And...well, I was going through a really weird breakup with this guy, and I’d only ever been with guys. Even though...well...it always sort of felt wrong, but--”

“Was it like a seduction by an older woman type of thing?” Carole asked, eyes glittering. “We love those stories around here!”

“Um...not really, no. I was the one who started it.” Courtney looked at Bianca. “You didn’t really do anything.”

Bianca took a sip of wine. “Yeah, I did.”

“I mean, you helped me with the work stuff...you were really generous, and sweet, and...”

Bianca smiled. “Okay, so, the real story is this. I saw her at a fashion show with my sister, over a year ago. She was sexy and adorable and I planned to do my typical thing, seduce her and fuck her brains out and all that, but then the next time I saw her, she was in like, actual emotional distress, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not into, like...feelings. So you know, I tell myself ‘Wait until she’s not depressed. Fuck her then.’”

Bethenny cackled.

“Charming,” Courtney said, frowning a little.

“Yeah, well. Then the problem was, I kept seeing her, and I started HAVING feelings. Like a disease. It was awful. So I realized that the only thing that would possibly work was the exact fucking opposite of everything I normally do. No games, no bullshit, no - to use your word - seduction. I tried something I’d never done before. I tried to be a good person, and not expect anything in return.”

“And it worked?”

“I mean, it was the longest 4 months of my life, but yeah, ultimately, it worked.”

“Awww…” Courtney kissed her. “Wait, so me making the first move...that was intentional?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just TELL me? I would have done it sooner. I was clawing down the curtains.”

“Because it had to be your idea. That was part of it.”

“So you made up rules in your head? But didn’t tell me? How is that no games?” Courtney challenged, eyes narrowed.

“Uhhhhh…” Bianca downed her wine glass. “Anyone here like sports?”

“This is like...fascinating…” Carole said, eyes wide, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, Carole is real curious about lesbianism,” Bethenny announced. “Tell them about your dream last year, Carole!”

“No, because, it’s like, the politics of who makes the first move...shut up, Bethenny!”

Vanity raised her hand. “Um, not that I don’t enjoy this discussion about catching my sister’s pussy, but I was told there would be a gentleman here.”

Carole grinned. “He’s cooking. He’ll be out in a few minutes with the appetizers.”

“Jesus, this one is like Ramona. Where are the men?! Where’s the dick?!” Bethenny screeched.

“Every day…” Bianca shook her head.

“Sorry if I get bored watching you two and your soft core porn all day,” Vanity replied.

“What do you mean ‘soft core’?” Courtney giggled, head on Bianca’s shoulder.

“You know, there was a time when you liked dick, too, Courtney!” Vanity said.

Courtney raised her eyebrows. “I mean...I don’t know about ‘liked dick’...it was more like…tolerated dick…”

Adam walked into the room with a tray of food. “Hey, ladies…”

“Right on cue!” Bethenny crowed, falling over laughing. “Adam, thanks for cooking. Now we have to warn you, this season is all about pussy.”

“Cool,” Adam said, setting down the food and toasting Carole. “Here’s to...well I am trying to think of a word for it that won’t embarrass my mother.”

“Let’s go with womankind,” said Carole.

“Yeah, we’ve got lesbians, drag queens, and I’m bleeding by the bucket,” Bethenny continued.

“Uh, okay.” Adam nodded uncomfortably and then changed the subject. “So...these are beet, arugula and hazelnut vinaigrette pizzas with a cauliflower crust. I’m gonna go finish the main course.”

As he walked back to the kitchen, Bethenny shook her head. “He really is a trooper.”

“I’m a little concerned about your bleeding. I thought it was like, spotting,” said Carole, biting into her pizza.

“Oh no,” Bethenny shook her head. “It’s like a river down there. I think I may need a transfusion. I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday.” She turned to Vanity, who had a horrified look on her face. “Why aren’t you eating?”

***

ROXY: Fame in rare form today. She sent back 4 coffees already.

SHANNEL: LOL

SHANNEL: I’m kind of suspicious of the energy here. B and N getting along. WTF

ROXY: That is suspicious. Are we living in the end times?

SHANNEL: Possibly.

ROXY: What’s new with mystery married dude? Sex still good?

SHANNEL: Yeah. Although he’s starting to like...open up emotionally. It’s weird and gross and I’m not sure I’m there for it.

ROXY: Lmao, you’re a bad person

SHANNEL: No, but like you know. I’m not trying to be a professional mistress. Wrong bitch, sir.

ROXY: I get you.

SHANNEL: Last week was all about this war with his wife about some fucking cufflinks she wouldn’t give him. #whocares

SHANNEL: I’m not here to talk about your man jewelry and I’m certainly not here to talk about your wife.

ROXY: lololololol

***

Alaska looked up from her computer, removing her glasses, as Adore entered, flinging her messenger bag down and ambling over to the couch to flop down beside her dejectedly. Alaska was working from home today, Kim practically forcing her to not come into work since the mountain of emails in Alaska inbox exploded after they had relaunched one of their old lipstick shades.  “What’s wrong, muffin?” Alaska asked, running her hands through Adore’s hair, which was currently turquoise fading into purple.

“I think you were right about the boys.”

“What about them?”

“Well...I played them a verse from the newest song I wrote. You know, ‘Out of the Blue’?”

“Right. That song is awesome.”

“Aaron’s exact word were ‘Angry Pussy is supposed to be an ironic band name, Adore. Let’s not turn this bitch into the Vagina Monologues.’ And then he played another song about anarchy and of course all the guys just shat themselves with glee over it.”

“Was is any different than his last 20 songs about anarchy?”

“No. I mean yeah. It was kind of worse.”

Alaska laughed and shook her head. “I’m telling you, hon, they’re holding you back.”

Adore sighed. “So...I guess I’m starting a new band. From scratch.”

“I guess so.”

“Fuck. This is gonna be so much work.”

“Well, look on the bright side...while you do it, you get to live in a penthouse and you don’t have to have a day job.”

“True…” Adore smiled. “Man, my life is fucking awesome.”

***

Ivy sipped her green tea, carefully entering numbers for the upcoming gala into the budget, when the door to her office was thrown open. She shrieked, jumping out of her seat, concentration broken, nerves rattled, as Roxy burst through the entryway, slamming her hands down on her desk.

“Omigod, girl, you will NEVER GUESS what I just found out!”

“Roxy, Jesus, you just scared the living DAYLIGHTS out of me!” Ivy’s heart hammered a million miles a minute as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously, I’m about to tell you something and you have to SWEAR you won’t tell anyone but OMIGOD this is huge…”

“What?!”

“SWEAR FIRST!”

“Okay, jeez, I swear!”

“Patrick...is totally having an affair...with Shannel Watkins!”

“Wait...Nina Garcia’s assistant? Your best friend?”

“YES!”

“WHOA...Did she tell you?!” Ivy asked, eyes bulging.

“Well, not exactly, but...she told me stuff that...I mean, I figured it out. It’s definitely true. You cannot tell anyone! A-NY-ONE! Promise me!”

“I promise!” Ivy said.

“Good.” Roxy sighed with relief. “I just like...needed to share with one person, because that was too much to keep to myself. I feel better now. See you later!” She smiled and skipped from the room.

Ivy waited at her computer for a few moments, then sprang up and knocked on Raja’s door urgently. “Raja, sorry, I know you’re meditating, but--this is important!”

***

“Come on little buddy!” Trixie smiled as he put Ivan into his car seat, the father and son had just finished a shopping trip to Target, Trixie taking full advantage of his flexible schedule to get the thanksgiving shopping done while everyone else was busy with work. Trixie loved shopping early in the day, the shelfs always fully stocked, Ivan happy and full with energy, and if Trixie was honest he felt like a kindred spirit with all of the old people that filled the shop.

“Let’s get home so mommy can see all the shopping we did.” Trixie got into the car, Ivan happily munching on the rice cake his dad gave him, the little boy smiling, the rice falling out, making Trixie laugh as he scoped it up.

***

After some cajoling, Raja finally tore Fame away from her desk and over to sofa, where they could sit together and she could be gentler about breaking this possibly untrue news. Raja shifted uncomfortably. She had no idea why this was so difficult. She was known as the Dragon Lady for a reason. She’d never had a shred of difficulty looking into anyone’s eyes and delivering cold, hard facts. But somehow, with her little blonde darling, it was different - especially now, when she was clearly on the edge of a breakdown, Raja felt like she needed to handle her with kid gloves. Problem was, this wasn’t something she was used to doing, so it all felt very unnatural. She cleared her throat.

“/What/, Raja. For god’s sake.” Fame heaved an exasperated sigh. “I have a ton of work to do, so if you have something to say, just-- I’m honestly having a horrible day-”

“It’s about Patrick, and I’m trying to be delicate.” Raja said. “Which is not my strong suit, so--”

Fame’s mouth clamped shut, lips pressed together. “What?”

“Well...now, remember, this might not even be true, but I heard, that he might be involved with someone.”

Fame folded her hands, shoulders tensing. “Did you?”

“Yeah, well, um, but not just some random girl. Uh...someone we know.”

“Mmm,” Fame made a small noise, eyes faraway.

Raja paused, unsure whether she should go on. She was having a hard time reading her friend’s body language. She took a deep breath and decided to just rip off the band-aid. “Chad’s goddaughter. Shannel. The one that works for Nina at Marie Claire. I mean, you know, that’s what people are saying, anyway, so I wanted to give you a heads-up, but who knows if it’s even true?”

Fame’s eyes closed for the briefest second and then she opened them, replying, “It’s true.”

“Oh. Fuck.” Raja put a hand on Fame’s shoulder.

“Of course, I would have appreciated it if he wasn’t so damn /messy/ about it?! Who else knows? How am I supposed to run a business when my husband is gallivanting around town with no discretion?”

“I don’t think a lot of people know, honey.”

“Are you sure? Who told you?”

“Ivy.”

“Ivy?! Ivy is the least gossipy of all the assistants! She’s the vault!”

Raja tilted her head sympathetically. “I think she only told me because you know, it’s you, and she wanted to make sure that I warned you. I think she told me to be kind, not to spread gossip.”

“And where did she hear it?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

Fame shook her head, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“Do you want me to call him?”

Fame looked at her friend, not expecting Raja’s words at all. “Why would I want you to call him?”

“You obviously love him. I’ve never seen you this upset before.”

Fame shook her head, her words escaping her for once. “He’s going back home to his family for Thanksgiving... We’ve told them I’m sick...”

“So you’ll be spending Thanksgiving alone?”

“Everyone is away, who would I spent it with?”

Raja reached out, surprising Fame as she pulled her into a hug. “You’re coming with me.”

Fame’s wide eyes blinked in surprise before filling up with tears. “Are you sure? I know that it may be a bit of a mad house with the wedding being so close.”

"Don't be silly," Raja said smiling down at Fame, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Mani loves having you over, she was actually talking about you the other day."

"Really?"

Raja pulled out her phone, pressing on her mother's picture to call her. "Oh yes, she was wondering if you liked the blackberry and cherry jam she made for the office."

"I thought Raven made that jam," Fame said, before hearing Raja's mother's voice cut through the quiet office.

[Hello my beautiful daughter, you bless your mother with the sound of your voice,] Maharani greeted, happy that her daughter called her.

[Hi mama,] Raja replied in Indonesian with a smile, watching Fame take a sip of her coffee. [I'm sitting here with Fame in her office, say hello.]

"Oh hi baby!" Maharani said brightly, "I was talking about you to Putri, how you and de boy?"

Fame looked at Raja questioningly. "The boy," she whispered. Raja pointed at Fame's wedding ring, earning a nod from the younger woman.

"Patrick and I are doing good," Fame began, not wanting to outright lie to the twins sweetheart of a mother. "We're in a transitional period right now in our relationship."

"What does that mean? You have baby?"

Raja choked back a laugh at Fame's mildly horrified expression before speaking up for her friend. "No mani, Fame is only pregnant with ideas for our newest collection, no baby."

"Ah." Maharani replied easily, [Is she getting a divorce?]

Raja bit her lip, she didn't want to tell her mother because it wasn't her story to tell, but she also hated withholding information from her as well. [I don't know,] but Fame is coming home with Anada, Vi, Rave and I for Thanksgiving dinner."

Maharani didn't miss a beat with her response, and for that Raja was grateful. "Ok, I make enough to feed army."

"See Fame darling," Raja said with a smile, "my mother is not only magic, but she also makes too much food so don't worry about it."

"Thank you for your hospitality Mrs. Amrull," Fame replied with a smile. "I can't wait to enjoy more of your amazing cooking. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Oh no," Maharani replied. "Bring an empty belly."

Raja laughed, imagining how offended her mother must have looked at the thought of a guest bringing outside food to her home. "Thanks mama.”

***

Roxy hung up with the printer, sweat dripping down her forehead, feeling like she’d just run a marathon. The last two days had upped her blood pressure and aged her five years. When Fame came in on Monday, with the biggest, scariest smile she’d ever seen, waxing poetic about a gigantic holiday gala that Galactica just MUST throw, Roxy thought she would throw up on the spot. Planning a fancy gala, during the holidays, in less than a month?

She’d, miraculously, found a venue rather quickly. (Luckily for her, one of her ex boyfriends was a hotel manager and he still liked to fuck occasionally, so that was one problem solved.) Then Fame refused to let her do the invitations via paperless post like a fucking normal person, insisting on using this fancy printer in Brooklyn and then taking her SWEET ASS TIME approving the guest list all the while making Roxy aware that if the invites didn’t go out before the holiday, Roxy would be fired.

She’d made the deadline by the skin of her TEETH, and only by slipping him half the names earlier in the day without Fame’s formal approval - names like Raja and Raven, Chad Michaels people that Roxy knew for a fact would be on the list and that she’d be willing to bet the $5 per invite against her salary would make the cut.

But now, she barely had any time to celebrate her victory because as she looked at the rest of her to do list, she started to get that sick feeling again…

/Catering

Alcohol

Decor/Production Design

Seating Chart

Music/Entertainment

Speaker from the charity

Silent auction items

WHAT ELSE UGHHHHH/

Roxy took a shaky breath, trying to figure out where to begin, as Fame buzzed her on the intercom. “Roxy, please help me bring my things downstairs to the car, I’m going to leave early today.”

“Yes miss.” She was leaving already? While Roxy sat here slaving away planning her last minute stupid fucking party? What a royal /bitch./ Roxy entered Fame’s office to gather her things.

Fame rose from her desk, allowing Roxy to help her into her coat. “I trust you have the gala under control?”

Roxy gritted her teeth. “Of course, miss. I’m about to go lock in the rest of the vendors.”

“Fantastic,” Fame said. “Be sure to send me an update before you leave today.”

“Yes, miss.”

[spareblog1984]

I don’t get paid nearly enough to appreciate this fucking decor, you think to yourself with a sigh as you sit alone at the hotel bar, your chin propped up on your wrist and your gaze shifting restlessly from your table to the window. The restaurant area is virtually empty save for a handful of guests scattered across separate tables, some chatting amongst each other over light lunches and some sitting alone, bent over their notepads or laptops, an invisible wall carefully constructed around them and the outside world. Absentmindedly, you swirl a teaspoon around the inside of an almost empty coffee cup, the neglected drink within since gone cold, and you barely even notice the repetitive clink-clink sound of stainless steel against porcelain as your mind begins to wander. Uhhhhh yeah that’s all I’ve got for this bit

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” a voice pipes up from beside you, nearly knocking you off of your chair, at which point you regain your balance and turn to face the hotel manager, a stout woman in her early forties, her face heavily made up and her dark hair scraped back into a tight bun. She cuts quite an intimidating figure, arms crossed and lips pursed as she regards you with a single raised eyebrow, and in the short time you’ve been working here you’ve been trying as hard as you can to not get on her bad side, but to seemingly no avail. You grab your coffee cup and swallow the rest of the cold coffee, regretting this decision immediately, but not wanting to waste too much of her time. “Uh— um… not as far as I’m aware,” you stammer, still barely halfway through the process of forcing yourself back into dutiful wage slave mode.

“Well you are now,” replies the manager as she dumps a small black wash bag, embroidered with the hotel’s logo, on the surface of the bar. “The woman in room 439’s just ordered a massage—”

A fucking massage?! “Wh– what??” you wheeze feebly in response, desperately trying to remember if this was mentioned at any point in the job description.

“Do you mind not interrupting me?” the manager snaps back, planting her hands on her hips to assert her authority over you despite her short stature. “Anyway, like I was saying, the woman in 439’s ordered a massage. For her husband.”

Is this some sort of punishment for something you must have done to piss her off? It certainly does feel like it. Very quickly you realise there’s no use trying to talk your way out of this one, but predictably enough you try anyway. “I, uh… I don’t usually do massages, I don’t even know if I’d be any good at it,” you reply, almost apologetically. “Is there really nobody else who can do it?”

Once again the manager raises a heavily plucked and pencilled eyebrow, her expression indecipherable. “You know, [Y/N], I don’t pay you to sit on your arse and backchat me all day. Now come on,” – she punctuates this statement with two hand claps – “get cracking or it’s coming out of your next paycheck.”

With a sigh you grab the wash bag and finally lift yourself from the chair, leaving the restaurant and crossing through the lobby, until you find yourself at the two elevator doors adjacent to the staircase, sighing as you press the ‘call elevator’ button between them. After about half a minute of waiting the doors on your left hand side finally open, and you step inside and press yet another button to send you up to the fourth floor. You momentarily catch your own gaze in the reflection opposite the door as the elevator rumbles to life, the shadows cast on your face by the overhead strip lights betraying the toll that these consecutive late night shifts have taken on you, and for what? The promise of a paltry fucking pay rise? You run your hand through you hair and exhale hard, wondering what other job opportunities would be available to you if you were to pack it in tomorrow, or today maybe, once you’re finally done with this fucking massage or whatever it is. Finally, after what seems like an age, the elevator slows to a complete stop and the doors open, and you step out onto the plush carpet and head down the hallway in search of room 439.

“Give me fucking strength,” you mutter to yourself under your breath as you pass countless doors concealing lives beyond your comprehension, lives you daren’t even ponder lest you become lost in envy, counting each room number along the way. Eventually you reach your destination, composing yourself and straightening out your work uniform before you knock on the door and say, “Hello? Somebody ordered a massage?”

For about a minute there’s no response, and you wonder if possibly you’ve fucked it up already; maybe you’ve got the wrong room? No, this is definitely the right room, you realise as you double check the number on the door again, so maybe you’ve somehow missed the time window in the three minutes it took you to get up here? I’m gonna be sacked for this, aren’t I? you think to yourself, the familiar sense of dread starting to creep up on you again, but suddenly the door to the room opens, startling you momentarily before you finally take notice of the apologetic-looking man standing before you in the doorway.

“Oh hello, sorry I startled you,” he says, smiling shyly, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I swear this wasn’t my idea, it was my wife’s, I’ll have to talk to her about this later—”

“It’s fine, honestly. I don’t usually do massages, but the manager insisted I come up here,” you reply, hoping your meagre excuses will put the poor guy at ease somehow, before you add with a chuckle, ”you don’t wanna know what she’s like. My next paycheck’s at state.”

He lowers his eyes with another smile at that, almost as if he’s not sure how to respond to your casual admission of defeat, leaving you with the opportunity to study his features, and oh shit. Ah fuck. He’s handsome in a peculiar way; he must be in his mid-to-late fifties or his early sixties, as evidenced by the age lines around his eyes and mouth, but his wild yet soft-looking jet-black hair gives him the appearance of somebody half his age, as do the black graphic t-shirt and faded black skinny jeans clinging to his deceptively svelte frame, this ensemble finished off with a pair of well-worn black combat boots. Clearly he’s not one for a 9 to 5 office job, which despite yourself almost seems to endear him to you even more. When he lifts his eyes again you notice they’re an incredible piercing shade of icy blue, and you swear you could almost fall into them if you weren’t too careful, but even so you’re not one to risk losing your job over this married man who you only just met less than twenty seconds ago. Isn’t this just sleep deprivation and employment anxiety fucking with your mind? You decide you’d rather not think about it too much as you absentmindedly fiddle with the name tag pinned to your waistcoat.

To your relief it’s him, not you, who’s the first to break the silence. “Well, seeing as you’ve come up all this way… you might as well come in,” he says with an inclination of his head, and graciously you accept, stepping through the doorway and into the hotel room. It’s not unlike every other room you’ve seen in this building before, but still you can’t help but feel as if you’ve wandered into some sort of unknown territory, one you‘re certain you’ll never come back from the same ever again. There’s not much untoward here; two suitcases at the foot of the king-size bed – one black and one leopard print – a MacBook sitting on the desk, a couple of chargers plugged into the outlets, so you turn back toward the enchanting hotel guest to see him checking his phone for a moment, then raising his eyebrows with a smile before he places it on the nightstand. “I’m literally so sorry about this,” you chuckle nervously, “I really hope this isn’t too much of a bother for you, uhh – sorry, what was your name again?”

He turns his head towards you over his shoulder, his sleek black hair shining in the early afternoon light. “Gary,” he replies with a smile.

You find yourself turning his name over and over in your mind, before coming to the conclusion that… it suits him somehow, but in a way that you can’t quite place. “But really, I’m the one who should be apologising,” Gary continues, “Gemma – that’s my wife – this was her idea. I love her, but she’s mad. Think that’s one of the reasons I love her, actually.”

“She sounds fun,” you shrug, before you start to gather some towels from the en suite. “Like I said, I don’t usually do massages but the manager insisted I take this one, and I really don’t wanna lose my job… y’know, even if it is a bit shit.”

Gary nods in understanding, bbbbluhlbuh that’s all I’ve got for this fuckin shit too but I have some dialogue written down before we get to actually fucking do anything

“So, um… what is it you do for a living, Gary?”

“I’m a musician. … I’m actually on tour at the moment.”

“What’s it like?”

“Touring?”

“Mmhm.”

“… I think it’s my favourite part of the job. But, you know… it can get difficult sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, jet lag’s one thing… being away from our three daughters is another. And of course, anything can go wrong during a show. Some important piece of equipment could break, there could be a power cut…”

“Or some prick could set off the fire alarm?”

“Or some prick could set off the fire alarm, yeah.”

“That happened here last week. Some bored kids pulled the fire alarm and I had to stop cleaning a room and run out to the assembly point holding the last guests’ cum towel. … Yeah, my pay was docked for it. Something about having no sense of priority during a fire drill, but it wasn’t even a real fire drill, it was kids fucking around!”

“Sorry that happened to you, [Y/N].”

“It’s fine, I’ve seen worse. … Does it get stressful? Being in the music industry, I mean.”

“If I’m honest… it does. There’ve been times where I’ve had virtually no faith in my songwriting abilities – I was in pretty heavy debt at one point in my career, and I don’t think I’d have gotten out of it if I hadn’t met my wife when I did. And when I first started out I was practically sick with nerves before my first headlining show… that’s all under control now, obviously. But, uh… touring can still take its toll on you sometimes.”

“Yeah, no wonder. God, you’re really tense around the shoulders here, aren’t you?”

“I thought you didn’t usually do massages?”

“I honestly don’t, I’m just winging it. But believe me, I know stress when I see it. I’ve looked in the mirror enough times.”

okay so at least one person gets a boner, then our hapless fuckin hotel worker reader insert gets to bang garold nyoomunculus

“I’m actually playing a show here tonight, I’ve got to be at the venue in a couple of hours for the soundcheck. … I hope you can make it.”

and THEN it ends like this lmao “Okay, what the fuck, you never told me the guy in 439 was a rockstar?!”

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

Not Enough? You Are Everything

Hey everyone! As some/most of you know, I’ve been working on an Office fic, centered around Jim’s inner dialogue throughout the seasons.

As it turns out, there’s been a really amazing response to it, so I’ve been invited to share it on a site called More Than That.

I’ll still be updating on FF.net as well, and you’ll find both links below, as well as what chapter has been posted on each site most recently.

I’ll also post the first chapter under the cut, just in case anyone wants to try it out before going off-site :)

ALSO, if anyone is artistically inclined, and is particularly inspired and wants to create a cover for this, that would be amazing and lovely, and I would of course give full credit on all sites where the story is posted :)

Fanfiction.net (Chapter 5: Season Three - Part Two): https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12590569/1/Not-Enough-You-Are-Everything

MTT (Chapter 2: Season 2 - Part One): http://mtt.just-once.net/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=5447&textsize=0&chapter=1

Chapter One: Season One

Jim had never intended to fall in love with the girl who sat across from him every day. He had never intended to date anyone from work, so when he found himself with a crush on a girl he had no choice but to stare at for a good portion of the day, he was almost grateful she was engaged.

Almost.

"So, are you going to Angela's cat party?" she's asking him, and he laughs because the idea of a cat party is absurd, but also because he always laughs when he talks to her. Everything seems funny when she says it, and he's fairly certain he's never laughed so much in his life as he does from that spot at reception, with his hands hanging over the desk, almost touching hers.

And when Dwight pulls out the Jell-O encased stapler and she laughs like that, it's almost more than his heart can take. If she didn't laugh like that - a hiccup-y laugh that means he knows he's caught her off guard, done something extraordinary - he might have stopped pranking Dwight ages ago. But if it makes her laugh, he'll keep doing it forever. He loves her laugh.

Shit. Jim is in trouble, because he is in deep. And he is in deep over a committed woman. And God, he'd never want her heart broken the way it would be if Roy left her, but he also knows that a jerk like Roy definitely doesn't deserve a girl like Pam. He knows it's dangerous to put a woman on a pedestal like that, but he also knows that Roy is literally The Worst ™ .

Well, except for maybe Dwight. But that's a whole different story.

But really, he knows Roy keeps her from socializing with her co-workers - and yeah, okay, maybe he's being a little selfish and obvious there, wanting her to go out for drinks and then bailing when Roy says she can't go, but he DOES like spending time with...some of the people from the office. He knows Roy doesn't appreciate her art - which is REALLY good, by the way. And if he doesn't appreciate her art, does he really appreciate her?

Okay, that's a stretch and he knows it. But he still wonders.

He tries to make conversation with Roy, tries to see what she sees in him. Maybe if he could make himself like Roy, he could make himself stop loving her. But Roy is not as chatty, not as bright and bubbly and friendly as Pam. And Roy does not want to talk to Jim. Ever.

And when Jim sees Pam leave the bathroom, clearly trying to hide the fact that she's been crying, he immediately wants to comfort her. He wants to go to her, hug her, tell her whatever happened, it's going to be okay. A tiny part of him hopes that it's about Roy, but that's stupid because he knows Roy is waiting for her outside in that dumpy old truck, that nothing between them could have possibly transpired in the last 10 minutes or so. Right?

But either way, the urge to comfort her is so strong, but he knows that's inappropriate. So instead he just casually asks her about her headache, and she awkwardly asks if he wants to walk out with her, and he's about to grab his coat and really try to savor these few moments completely alone with her…when a truck honks and suddenly she's back to reality, back to her fiance. And Jim is back to being alone, watching the girl he's in love with leave to go home with the man she's in love with - the one who isn't him.

He has learned, over time, to cherish the small moments. The moments when the office is bustling and he and Pam both have nothing to do but observe the madness. The times when he can stand at reception and laugh at Dwight's antics or Stanley's unforgiving attitude. He dangles his hands over the desk, inches away from her fingers, daring himself to grab her hand with his own. He never does, but God does he want to.

It's strange to see another face at the desk when Ryan takes over reception during the horrible, awkward Diversity Day antics. Jim walks over out of habit, feeling awkward once he arrives. He makes conversation with Ryan to ease the strange tension he's feeling. He's barely listening to what Ryan is saying, but then something grabs his attention.

"She's cute, right?"

Cute? Cute doesn't begin to cover Pam Beesly. Pam is wonderful and smart, kind, open, and friendly. Pam is talented and-

"Yeah, but, y'know, she's engaged."

He tries to play it cool, but inside he is screaming. Now the temp is interested in her, too? He knows she'd never go for Ryan, but then again, he certainly didn't see her with a guy like Roy when he found out she was-

"Oh I meant the...the girl in the sketch."

….oh. And Jim can breathe again. He mumbles something about her being hot and pretends to watch whatever Ryan has on the screen. He's already forgotten, more focused on the fact that he needs to stop being jealous over a girl that isn't even his.

Later, he sneaks back into the conference room, feeling defeated over the loss of his biggest client - to Dwight of all people - and breathes a small sigh of relief that the seat next to Pam is still open. It's a small thing, being able to sit next to her. But in another life, she'd comfort him after his rough day, tell him he could go out and get an even bigger client tomorrow. He's imagining this, not listening to a word Michael is saying, when he feels a soft pressure on his shoulder. He turns, and sees her curls very close to his face. He can smell her shampoo. She's leaning on him. She's fallen asleep on his shoulder.

And now he's seeing them curled up on the couch, watching a movie. Seeing a life where Pam falls asleep on his shoulder all the time - she seems the type to fall asleep and then wake up and ask when they're going to bed. And he's hearing her voice, sleepy and wistful, and he's carrying her upstairs-

And suddenly everyone is leaving the conference room. And he waits, cherishing this moment, trying to get back to his imagined reality before the real world comes crashing down around him. He smiles as he wakes her. He whispers softly to her, the same way he imagines he'd wake her up if she had fallen asleep on the couch. She wakes up and walks out of the room with barely a word.

It's the first time he's ever sad to see the end of a Michael Meeting.

"Uhhhhh, not a bad day," he tells the crew. The champagne celebration long forgotten, he knows he's going to remember this day for a long time.

It actually kind of amazes Jim sometimes that no one has called him out for his time at reception. He tries to do it subtly, casually, when no one is really looking that way, but then someone interrupts them and he feels caught, cornered. Even if the conversation is innocent and casual, he feels like he should be in trouble for being at reception, talking to Pam.

He also finds it hard to hide his annoyance at the constant interruptions. He knows it's wrong to be annoyed, because really, he's not supposed to be there anyway - for a multitude of reasons - but he can't help but roll his eyes when Michael interrupts a sentence with some offensive impression or random question for Pam.

But when Michael interrupts one of his favorite moments of the day to ask him to do some menial task, Jim finds himself extra annoyed. He barely listens to whatever it is Michael wants him to do and instead offers an immediate escape route for himself: "Dwight."

He does not, however, anticipate the consequences of his actions. The power that goes to Dwight's head over the smallest task is amazing. He and Pam decide to confront the beast together. They enter his lair - his workspace, if you will - and face him side-by-side. It does not go well.

The good news is that now he has another excuse to talk to Pam as they make up - er, properly notate… - diseases together.

"Don't write Ebola or Mad Cow Disease," he warns her, and he laughs at her surprised face. She thinks he doesn't want her writing anything false, making a joke out of this nonsense Dwight has presented them with? Pshaw, she should know him better. "Because I'm suffering from both," he adds, and she finally laughs, relief evident in her smile. They spend a good chunk of the day - time he should be spending making sales calls - creating fake names.

"Spontaneous Dento-Hydroplosion," he suggests, with a look of confidence. He relishes in the look she gives him in return, clearly impressed with his idea. He sticks that look into the compartment in his brain of Things He Loves About Pam.

Later, another interruption when he is just trying to spend some time with his girl- erm, best friend. This time, from Dwight. He barely listens, but one thing sticks out in the list of false diseases Dwight is reading:

"Killer nano robots?"

"It's an epidemic," Pam responds. And it's his turn to be impressed.

As payback for this interruption - and, of course, for just generally being a jerk to the whole office - he locks Dwight in his workspace. Dwight calls from inside the room and Jim is humoring him until, oh thank God, there she is. The extension number for the reception desk pops up on his phone. And with Dwight yelling in the background, they have a meaningless conversation, where he can picture her face while not even looking at her. And he know it was just a prank on Dwight, that she's just being silly, but he'll always take any excuse to talk to her that he can get his hands on.

Of course, Dwight hands him another "talk to Pam ALL DAY" gift the day he asks for an alliance. The downsizing rumors haven't really bothered Jim all this time. He does his job. He arrives on time, never leaves early. He hardly ever calls off. He tries his best to stay under the radar, not doing so well as to be named Salesman of the Month, ahem, but doing well enough to get by. And he's competent enough that Michael seems to always want to give him all of these tasks, despite the fact that he never wants to take them on.

And maybe, on the off-chance that he did get let go, he could actually move on with his life and stop thinking about the girl at reception that he had to see day in and day out for all these years.

And yet, he spends his time in this alliance with Dwight, talking with that very girl. He has an excuse, as far as Dwight is concerned anyway.

"There may be chatting and giggling and you just gotta pretend to ignore it, wipe it away," he's telling Dwight. And he buys it. So now he can just sit at reception and talk to Pam about absolutely nothing, and someone will back him up if he's ever asked why.

When Jim pranks Dwight alone, it's pretty good. He's come up with some insanely creative ideas, some more subtle than others. But when Jim and Pam combine forces and prank Dwight together, they're unstoppable. By midday, they've got Dwight in a box in the warehouse, listening to pretend phone calls that Pam is making about the downsizing.

They work so well together, and he can't help but love her even more whenever they do stuff like this as a team.

"She's...so...great," he hears himself tell the crew during an interview session. At this point, they've all gotta know how he's feeling. Of everyone in this office, that crew has to know. Michael is oblivious to everything, and everyone else there is so absorbed in their own stuff, there's no way they've noticed. They're also nosy - unapologetically so - so if they'd noticed his constant visits to reception, one of them would have questioned him about it ages ago.

But the camera crew, they know. They see the look on his face when she walks in, see the tension whenever Roy comes upstairs. They see everything; it's their job. And maybe it should occur to him that someday, this will all be aired for the entire world to see, but at that point, he'll hopefully be long gone, the girl at reception long forgotten.

His real fantasy, of course, isn't that she's long forgotten, but that they're together. In this imagined future, she leaves Roy, comes to her senses, and he can finally tell her how he feels. He really, truly thinks there are times when she feels something, too. He also knows that she'd never give into any of those feelings while engaged to Roy. She's definitely not that type. And her feelings for Roy are real, he knows that, too. But the feelings she would have for him, he strongly suspects, would be much stronger. He tells himself on a daily basis that it will never happen, but he still holds out just a small shred of hope. Hope that, one day, when the camera crew finishes filming, however far into the future that may be, he'll be watching the final product with Pam by his side, and maybe their kids. Maybe a dog, too.

So he doesn't care when he slips up and says things that expose how he really feels about Pam. Not really.

The excitement of the final nail in the coffin on Dwight's alliance is killed immediately when Roy comes rushing in. Jim really is innocent, just playing a prank on an annoying workmate; he just got overly excited and affectionate with Pam. He'd been grabbing her hand to tell her how excited he was when suddenly the door slammed open and Roy was asking him if he was trying to cop a feel.

He's embarrassed, caught off guard. He's never had such a close call before, in all the times he's stood at that desk, so obviously flirting with her. He tries to explain, but of course Dwight is no help. Roy seems to back off once Pam explains that it's just office pranks.

He really should have been ready for that to happen eventually. But he usually stands on the opposite side of the desk. He's never had anything to worry about before.

But when he thinks of how her shampoo smells, how soft her hands are, he doesn't regret being that close to her. He doesn't, for one moment, wish he'd said his piece from the other side of that desk. Even if she hadn't stopped Roy and he'd come right across that desk and decked him square in the face, he doesn't think he would regret it.

The only reason he thinks twice about it is because Roy practically shoves Pam out the door. He knows Roy doesn't hit her; he knows Pam well enough that he'd be able to tell if something like that was going on, or at least he hopes so. But he does get rough, and Jim doesn't like that.

But, as always, there's nothing Jim can do. He's not her protector. He's just some guy, sitting at a desk, in love with the girl who sits across from him.

The day Michael makes them all bring gym clothes to change into just might be one of the most bizarre since he's started working at Dunder Mifflin. It starts off with Pam making a phone call about a toaster she'd received at her engagement party. Three years ago.

He's not happy that she's upset. He hates that she's upset about anything at all, ever. But he's a little happy that they still haven't set a date. How committed can Roy really be if he doesn't even want to set a date? He doubts Roy will do anything else when it comes to planning, so how hard is it for him to just pick a damn day? But again, Jim is a little happy that Roy is such a flake, just this once. It's bad enough pining after a girl with an engagement ring on her finger, reflecting in the bright fluorescent lights every day, reminding him that she's taken. But adding a wedding ring to that, making her Mrs. Pamela Anderson...well, that would be too much. All jokes about the name aside, it would be too much.

If they ever do set a date, he really might lose his mind, as if he hasn't already.

So, maybe he sounds a little smug when he talks about Pam needing to return something that was an engagement gift. But that's only because he really believes they'll never get married. She'll come to her senses. Even if she doesn't end up with him, she can't end up with a guy like Roy.

She just can't.

He knows it's dumb to be so competitive against Roy in this dumb game of basketball. At least he has the excuse of not wanting to work on Saturday. And honestly, if Roy and Pam hadn't started making out right next to him, maybe he wouldn't have gotten quite so competitive on the court. He tries to get Michael to let him guard Roy, but Michael is being Michael and won't hear it. Which is a shame because he has some choice words ringing in his ears that he'd love to get back at Roy for, suddenly:

"Tip it my way or you're sleeping in the car."

Still, Jim hears Pam's tiny little "Woop!" when he scores. And he loves that she's cheering for him. He loves it more because they both know she shouldn't be. After the close call at the desk, especially. But she cheers him on anyway, and he plays all the better for it. And when Michael finally gives in, lets him guard Roy, he plays better than he has since high school. He's blocking, stealing, shooting, scoring. He knows basketball isn't the way to Pam's heart, but it sure can't hurt to show her that he's better than Roy at something.

When Roy elbows him in the face, he feels like maybe it's karma. Like he deserves it for loving Roy's fiance, for trying to impress her. He keeps playing, but it's with a little less drama, a little less flair. A little less trying to impress Pam.

And he's excited his team wins, disappointed that Michael ruins it by being his usual self and now he'll have to come in on Saturday. But he's mostly excited that he actually is better than Roy at something. He's excited that Pam cheered for him. That she was impressed with more than just his pranks on Dwight. That she smiled at him while he played.

And now he's seeing her at one of his pickup games with his buddies. There's a hoop down the street and sometimes they'll play on an odd weekday holiday when they're all off with no plans. And he's imagining Pam sitting with all of the other wives and girlfriends, rolling their eyes at this group of grown men, playing basketball on their day off. And she's smiling at him in the same way, and they're remembering this moment right now, when he's just wiped the floor with the guy she was supposed to marry. And it's like this little inside joke-

But it's not real. She's really engaged to Roy and she's really leaving with him, talking about getting him into a tub. And Jim is really, really disappointed in that reality.

When a cute girl enters the office a few days later, he shouldn't be at all surprised by the ruckus it causes. He should know by now that anything with a slim figure and nice eyes will get Michael Scott's weirdest side to come out.

Still, he doesn't really see the big deal. She's just a girl. (Of course, he guesses, to some people, Pam is probably just a girl, too).

He wonders if the irony of Roy asking him what his type is will ever be humorous. He wonders if it's a moment he'll look back on and say, "See Pam? See the way I looked at you before I answered? And you didn't even notice!" or if he'll watch that moment alone, or with some other girl, and think about how weird it was for the fiance of the girl he was in love with to ask him what kind of girls he was interested in.

He wonders if he'll ever stop feeling weird about his awkward answer: "Moms."

He doesn't have to wonder if he'll ever stop hating Roy, though. That's a definite yes. Everytime Roy opens his mouth, Jim hates him more and more.

"We're not dating, we're engaged," and she's gone. He feels awful for Pam, truly. He feels awful that she's been with this guy for so long - high school sweethearts? He feels like maybe, just maybe, if she went on just one other date with one other guy, maybe she would realize that Roy isn't normal. Roy isn't the standard for dating. Normal guys, guys who care about the women they're with, don't make comments about other girls in front of them. They set wedding dates soon after proposing and then they stick with those dates. Normal guys, guys who are really in love with the person they're with, want to get married as soon as possible so that the rest of their lives can begin.

Right?

Still, after a day of antics, a day of awkwardness, a day which included Pam being tickled by Roy on Jim's own desk, Jim is pretty frustrated. So he asks Katie out. Not because he thinks she'll be the solution to his problems. But because she is pretty, and she's nice, and she took a chance coming into this office. And she put up with a lot of crap from Jim's weird co-workers, so he's gotta give her that; she's tough.

And maybe it's wrong for him to ask someone out to distract himself from his real life, but he can't help it. And maybe he's hoping that Katie will be The One. That she'll finally get his mind off of the engaged girl at reception.

But when he sees that tiny twinge of jealousy in Pam's eyes when he tells her he's going out with Katie this weekend, he knows that will never be the case. He still hopes he'll end up wrong, but he knows that little bit of jealousy has just reignited every feeling he's ever had for Pam. That bit of jealousy has kickstarted his hope that maybe, just maybe, he's got a chance.