#immediately being under consideration for a phd. so. okay

[ban-joey]

my seminar class yesterday was a panel discussion that was so deeply heartfelt and activism-focused that it made me cry on camera to the point that the panelists invited me to their committee meeting so like. cool that being really emotional about trying to solve public health inequities has immediately made me some really really cool new friends. also what the fuck is happening

[incidentreport31]

Episode Three: Gather raw meat of any kind, red preferred, human is fine TRANSCRIPT

(You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.)

Recorder clicks on.

SFX: papers shuffling as Val decides on an account to focus on for the day.

ARCHIVIST:

(humming Under My Skin by Jukebox the Ghost for a few moments as they decide) Which one for today, then? Christ, this place is a mess.

[they stop as they pick up one covered in grime]

ARCHIVIST CONT.:

What in god’s name? What’s all over this one… (they scoff) Great, Val. You’re asking the damn recorder questions now.

[beat, then to the recorder]

Although I suppose you’re good enough company even if you can’t answer… (fondly) aren’t you?

[an awkward beat, a little too long]

(they clear their throat) I suppose I’ll be getting this one over with…

[SFX: shuffle of paper as they pick it up]

Certainly seems the most interesting given the…

[SFX: another shuffle as they flip it back and forth and take it in]

-residue… on it. (they sniff) God, the smell of it. Almost like rotten meat.

(they shudder)

(sighing) Right. Best get right into it… (muttering) it’ll be over sooner.

For the consideration of their parents: Bryn Fischer’s retelling of their time traveling alongside their road bike expedition through Massachusetts and- Dear Lord- a - what does this mean- a… a meat rain? (they sigh, exasperated) Yes, a “meat rain” that they came upon while driving.It seems Mx. Fischer is requesting their parents to pay fully for their next vacation… I’ve said it before, but (sighs) Rich People. Surprisingly, though, this account does seem to have a date written in: July 21, 2001. Regardless of my disbelief in the fact that the previous Archivist finally did something competent, their account begins as such:

[ACCOUNT STARTS]

I used to drive support for my parents’ long distance bike rides. They used to go out for anywhere from 90 to 200 miles a day with only a few stops in small towns where they could meet me at the car and grab new waters before heading right back out. They’re big bike geeks and I was the one person they’d always had at their disposal for the longer trips. Once I turned sixteen and properly had a driver’s license, it seemed to occur to them that they didn’t really have to ask their other long-distance riding friends to drive alongside them. Instead, they turned to me to make sure they were safe and sound on their excursions. Which was honestly fine for a while! I mean, when I’d first gotten the freedom of driving, it felt like such a treat to go on these trips and be able to just drive for hours and hours with someone else paying for my gas. And beyond that, it was nice to see everything out on the roads. I always found something good on those days where my parents were tirelessly trekking across the state highways. I loved seeing things I’d never seen before, whether it was the weird trinkets at rest stops or patches of snow hiding under dense forests I’d never seen before. I loved the exploring of it, but if I’m being honest, the thing that really amazed me was my parents. The dedication it took to willingly submit yourself to that much physical exertion with nothing but the few waters they could carry on their bikes between our meeting spots… Well it wasn’t something they’d passed down to me, that’s for sure.

[beat]

But, that’s all to say that after a while of driving for them, it eventually lost its charm. They eventually found a route they loved above all others and decided that they were going to make it their annual ride. As I’m sure you can tell, the whole “seeing new places and exploring” thing went away pretty quickly a few trips in. I was a stupid teenager, you know, and started griping about it to them two years in when they decided the perfect time for their next ride was over the weekend that my eighteenth birthday fell on.

ARCHIVIST:

Sometimes, Bryn, parents don’t have an ounce of self-awareness, I’ll give you that much, but this is getting past the point of exposition and I’d suggest you get to the point lest you sound like a writer who got to write in more background details than usual because this is a two-part episode.

[ACCOUNT]

After that, well I decided they could get their friends who actually gave a damn to go along with them. And even then, I was going away to college in Boston soon, so they’d have to stop relying on me eventually, so it was as good a time as any.

[beat]

Well, that’s my rambling exposition for you, I suppose.

ARCHIVIST:

Thank God.

[ACCOUNT]

But of course, by my sophomore year in university I was growing away from my parents and our calls had become less frequent. As much as I hated to admit it, I missed them. So when they called me and briefly mentioned they’d tired of their old route and would be taking on a new ride that summer, namely one that would loop right by me in Boston, I jumped at the chance, telling them to please not bother any of their friends with the trouble of driving and to let me come along. They were thrilled, of course. It had been a while since I’d willingly gone with them on their trips and they agreed without a second thought, inviting me to stay at their hotel with them like old times. I’ll spare you the details of the trip as a whole, I suppose. It was 119 miles along Wachusett mountain and there was a lot to look at. I mean I could go on and on about the sights I saw and the nostalgia that bloomed in my chest when I remembered the first few drives I’d taken with them.

ARCHIVIST:

(mocking) Heaven forbid you go on a tangent.

[ACCOUNT]

The important thing is the fact that, although I was so sure I’d checked all the maintenance lights off beforehand, by some twisted turn of fate, the lights on my dashboard flicked off, and stopped functioning altogether. It would have been fine, I mean it was in broad daylight still, but without a working speedometer, I was screwed. Now, my first thought was rage, of course, quickly followed by worry about my parents. I was lucky enough to have broken down where there was still cell service and to have my father pick up when I called, the two of them having momentarily paused to sight see. He assured me that it was okay. They’d be riding through where my car had stopped in about an hour and would be able to refuel their waters and snacks, but that they were going strong and should be fine to continue the ride. He told me just to call Triple A and make sure to get myself back to the hotel we were staying at safely and to leave the waters and things by a tree if by some miracle my car was fixed before they got to me. I tried to stay calm and called for the repair guy, who informed me he wouldn’t be there for about an hour and a half which was… just perfect.

ARCHIVIST:

Now I genuinely cannot tell if this is sarcasm or not as it’s written down so it’s anyone’s guess really.

[ACCOUNT]

I thought for a while and decided it would be fine if I walked around the nearby woods for a little while. Like I said, I really did love the exploring aspects of these trips and I figured that if I would be stuck here for a while, I might as well make the most of it as long as I kept my phone on me and kept track of the time. And honestly? It was some of the best fun I’d had in a while. Staying in the city for college had put my love of nature on hold indefinitely and I was happy to have it, even if for a short time. After a little while of walking around, I found this nice secluded area right on the edge of an open field and took a seat within a bush where the branches grew haphazardly enough that there was a decent sized hollow space for me to rest. I closed my eyes, just enjoying the moment in spite of my circumstances.

[beat]

SFX: Eerie music begins playing.

And… that’s when I heard it. There was this slight whooshing noise followed up by a few wet squelching sounds as whatever seemed to have fallen bounced once or twice along the damp earth.

My eyes snapped open, but as I scanned the forest floor, nothing immediately caught my attention. Everything seemed normal. And then as I was staring open-eyed at the field in front of me, it seemed as though the sky opened up. But… not with rain. Instead of water, there were fleshy colored chunks of all sizes just plummeting down from the sky into the field. They flopped as they hit the ground in a way that was both comical and simultaneously made me afraid I was going to lose the continental breakfast I’d had at the hotel just a few hours earlier. And that’s before I even noticed the smell. In the end, that’s what really made me realize what I was looking at. The smell that permeated the air as the shower continued suddenly clicked in my brain: rotten meat. There was nothing else that could smell so repulsive and sickly as the mass of meat chunks that had begun to collect on the field before me.

[RECORD SCRATCH]

ARCHIVIST:

What.

[beat]

[ANOTHER BEAT]

(they clear their throat) Right.(somewhat shakily) Moving on then.

[ACCOUNT]

By now, I was holding my hands clasped to my mouth, trying not to panic and furthermore hoping that the meat shower would stay central to that one area. Honestly I didn’t know if I would be able to handle any of it coming near me and I was thankful for every second it didn’t. It went on like that for several minutes through which I finally resolved to keep my eyes firmly shut.

[beat]

And then all of a sudden, the wet flopping sound ceased. For a moment, I could almost believe I imagined it, with my eyelids still pressed together. And yet, the smell still hung in the air. I slowly opened my eyes, hoping not to see what I deep down knew I would. What had once been a gorgeous fertile field full of lush grass and the types of wildflowers that would have been classified as weeds by those without any sense-

ARCHIVIST:

You mean botanists who likely have PHD’s? Hmm. I see.

[ACCOUNT]

Well, it had been turned into a literal hellscape. Not only was the meat layered on itself in clumps of already rotting material slowly heating up in the mid-day sun- which yes is as nasty as it sounds- but even the areas where the meat hadn’t settled were covered in that kind of slimy residue that comes off when you pat pre-packaged meats dry before you cook them. Pretty awful in every sense of the word.

[beat]

I sat on the ground for a few more minutes hidden safely within my bush before I realized that it had probably been about forty-five minutes since I called the Triple A man and figured now was a good a time as any to try getting back to my car, especially since I wasn’t keen to get caught up in any second round of meat rain.

SFX: Eerie music starts playing.

Unfortunately for me, the moment I decided this was exactly the moment the man and little girl walked out into the field. They came in from exactly the opposite side from where I was attempting to stand up, so of course they saw the bush shudder even with the cover it gave me. I hoped against everything that they would pass it off as an animal, perhaps drawn towards the display looking for dinner, and it seemed that, even standing up as I was, I was lucky enough to scrape by on that front.

I guess you’ll be wanting a description of them, yeah? The man was a little older, maybe in his late thirties and seemed positively pleased to be walking through the field of gristle and gore. At the very least, his smile beamed as he passed his eyes back and forth across the field. The girl next to him seemed to be so young, a toddler: maybe five at the oldest? I don’t know, I’ve never been good at discerning children’s ages. But young as she was, she didn’t seem put off by the scene around her in the slightest, skipping along next to the man with her hand swinging along in his.

I wish I knew what happened next. You ever have one of those moments where you suddenly realize you’ve been holding your breath? That’s the only thing I can chalk it up to I guess. Maybe it was the terrifying notion of them noticing me any further, a freeze fear response, or just subconsciously trying to keep the smell out of my nostrils, but no matter the reason, I realized I hadn’t taken a breath in far too long a few moments too late and I fell forward into the bush.

[beat]

Loudly. Loud enough that when I came to my senses a second or two later, halfway fallen out of the bush where they could see me clear as day, I could see both of them staring at me with their heads cocked to the side. As frightened as I was, though, I remember clearly that the two of them shared the same calm, kind face, the pleasant demeanor dimmed only by their surroundings. And then, with my head still cloudy, I heard him call out to me.

“Are you alright over there?” And that was the moment I knew that-

[SFX: paper being turned over frantically and then a beat]

ARCHIVIST:

(frustrated) Hm. It seems that the account ends there if I’m not mistaken. Though it seems the story does not. I suppose maybe there’s another sheet around here with the rest of the story, although how I’m going to find it in this mess I can only guess. (muttering) Guess I’ll just have to keep a look out for another paper coated in this grime, which I am now unfortunately being led to believe is meat… juice.

Either way, I’m afraid that with the few details I’ve been given so far I cannot confirm anything about this case one way or another. I would love to dismiss it right off the bat and write off the… grime on this paper as a practical joke, but until further research is done or I get a hold of the rest of this story, I’m afraid I can do no such thing. (a long, drawn out sigh)

[SFX: the listeners become aware of the sound of a camcorder whirring at some point in this closing as Chris approaches]

[As Chris begins, the Archivist yelps in surprise, maybe a little desk clatter]

CHRIS:

Do you think you could do another take real quick? Maybe up the acting a bit during the meat rain, really sell the emotion?

ARCHIVIST:

Bloody hell—who are you?

CHRIS:

Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.(then, trying to be cryptic, but she’s too over-the-top for it to be scary) Or did I?

ARCHIVIST:

(confused) You—how long have you been in here?

CHRIS:

Uh. The whole time? I thought you’d say something to me eventually, but you were really lost in the sauce there for a bit.(trying to be funny) Or, lost in the meat juice, I guess. (she giggles at her own joke.)

ARCHIVIST:

Well, my sincerest apologies, but you weren’t supposed to be in here in the first place. Who are you? Is—is that a camera?

CHRIS:

Oh, I’m Christine Lewis, one of the researchers!

[Val tries to speak, but Chris cuts them off.]

CHRIS:

Just Chris is fine. Anyways, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to get some footage for my channel.

ARCHIVIST:

(slowly) Your...channel…

CHRIS:

(she hums.) I’m kind of going for like, a Buzzfeed Unsolved type vibe, you know?

ARCHIVIST:

I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.

CHRIS:

Damn. No culture in these archives. Maybe if you stanned Ryan Bergara, this never would have happened.

ARCHIVIST:

Look, Chris, as...flattered...as I am to be the subject of your web series, I don’t appreciate being recorded without my knowledge. At least I have control over when this girl here turns on and off.

CHRIS:

Did you just call the tape recorder a girl…?

ARCHIVIST:

(overlapping) Not the point. Could you please get back to doing your job, and save the videos for when you’re not at work?

CHRIS:

If you insist. It’s gonna be worth it, though. You’ll get a shoutout in my one million subscribers video, just you wait.(mumbles). Just gotta get to ten subscribers first. Maybe if I was more active on Twitter. Say, do you think we could make an account for the [REDACTED] Institute?

ARCHIVIST:

(they are at their limit) Chris?

CHRIS:

Yeah, boss?

ARCHIVIST:

Get back to work before I tell HR to write this up.

CHRIS:

Yeah, yeah, I’m going.

SFX: Chris begins to walk off.

ARCHIVIST:

(they huff a sigh.) End recording.

Recorder clicks off.

CREDITS:

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “Gather raw meat of any kind, red preferred, human is fine,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Jesse Smith as Chris Lewis. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at incidentreport31@gmail.com. Thanks for listening.

[thedupshadove]

Scooby Doo Idea

Okay. The Gang were friends in high school, and while they all (with one notable exception. Stay tuned.) went to different colleges, they stayed in touch. They had had sort of an amateur investigative service running back in school, so when they all got out of their respective post-high-school obligations and realized that they all had no immediate plans (and privately, each of them realized that they all had emotional damage that made them reluctant to just go do adult life), they decided to take their investigative skills on the road, mostly as an excuse to semi-drop-out of society. Hey, it’s 1970. These things happen. But then, wherever they go they keep bumping into things that really do need solving. (“But where did they get the money for the van?” Daphne. “But all the food they have to buy--” Daphne. “But most people probably don’t pay them once their mystery gets solved--” Daphne. Daphne hasn’t even come into her inheritance proper yet, but her trust fund alone could buy Switzerland for cash.) Again, we are not trying to make this take on the series “modern” or “interesting” by having the characters constantly be at each other’s throats. They genuinely care about each other (and because this is me, will have settled into a full-on polycule before the series is over). It’s just that they all have,  from various sources, considerable emotional damage that they need to do their best to work through. (But we’re gonna do our best not to let them be defined by their damage. They still have [variants on] the personalities we know and love from the old cartoons.)

Norville “Shaggy” Rogers: As high school came to a close, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to major in at college...and then Uncle Sam called, and he never got a chance to decide, because it was 1966 and the war was hungry. After three years of Hell, he got shot in the shoulder just badly enough to qualify for a discharge home, where he spent the next year failing to shake it off. Luckily for him, he’s blessed with a fairly supportive, understanding family, but still, he’s been through things no teenager should have to, and he’s been left with scars far deeper than the one in his left shoulder. (Note to self: get as accurate a picture as possible of actual PTSD symptoms. Yes, he has nightmares, and yes, there may be the occasional flashback, but we need more than just those two cliché things. Let’s see, what do I already know? Well, he gets protective of people he cares about, he’s generally kind of nervous and jumpy [as is the standard for this character, but now with more of a concrete reason], his huge appetite may partially be a reaction to memories of starving in the jungle; now that food is plentiful, he eats, because he can’t entirely convince his subconscious that it’s going to stay plentiful. And for all his cowardice, when things get bad, I mean really bad, he slips into a sort of...detached competence. A fugue-like, hyper-focused calm in which he knows exactly what to do, and will put all his energy into seeing it done.) However, as I said, none of these people are entirely defined by their damage. When he’s calm, or at least comparatively calm (which sometimes comes with the help of pot) there shines through a caring, empathetic, gentle man with a surprisingly deep wisdom and a laid-back sense of humor. Also, in addition to his voracious appetite, he’s an excellent cook, and putting his energy into cooking is one of the things that can help calm him down after his symptoms get bad, and generally be a thing in his life that helps him heal. In addition to this, during his Year Of Failed Recovery, his uncle, who had a similarly hard time recovering after World War Two, suggested that he get a dog, advice which Shaggy took, which brings us to…

Scoobert “Scooby” Doo: What you need to understand about Scooby in this version is...he’s a dog. He’s very intelligent...for a dog. He’s very helpful in dangerous situations...for a dog. He’s surprisingly good at communicating with humans...for a dog. But he doesn’t talk, and he is not supernatural in any other way. He’s a dog. Nevertheless, he serves an important role in the group, not least of which is as Shaggy’s (though he’s never officially called this, as I believe the phenomenon was not a recognized as a medical phenomenon in 1970) emotional support dog. Like most dogs, he’s good at sensing what mood his people are in, and Shaggy is his people (and so are the others, eventually), so even though the actual training that emotional support animals get today didn’t exist for him to get, he can tell when Shaggy is in a particularly upset mood, and offer comfort. In addition, having an animal to care for gave Shaggy one more means of grounding. Plus, it doesn’t matter how well-planned your criminal scheme is, or how dedicated you are to it, if a big fuckoff Great Dane comes charging at you full-tilt, you’re gonna move. Most of his usual cowardice is probably gone in this version; in fact, if he feels that his people are in danger, he will not hesitate to square up and fight.

Frederick “Fred” “Freddie” Herman Jones: His father wanted a strong son; an athlete; the golden All-American boy...and he got it, by Hell or high water. Genuine interest in his son as a person? Willingness to support unconventional hobbies? Any affection given without Fred “earning” it by living up to one of the many standards of “manliness”? Naaaaaaaahhhh. Which was a problem, because Fred showed early on that he had little natural inclination towards what his father wanted him to be. His interests lay in painting, a particular breed of fashion, and mechanical things (and not the car kind.) Well, Papa Jones didn’t want any egghead or sissy for a son, and his efforts to “correct the problem” were, by most estimations, excessive. The man had a fast and furious temper. (And Mom died when Fred was very young, far too soon to do anything to counteract Dad’s influence) So Tiny Freddie learned to lie and suppress and play his part, and he played it so well that it couldn’t help become genuinely part of who he was (and, because children are children no matter what their parents are like, the praise he got when he finally lived up to his father’s standards warmed his little heart in a way he couldn’t control, even as he hated how much he had to hide), but through it all, he kept up his true self in secret,  as much as he could, scheming and planning and hoping for the day when he could leave home and leave his father’s ideals behind. And he got into college (he got his father to accept an engineering major with only minimal cold disdain by pointing out all the possible connections to construction) and started trying to shed all of his father’s influence...only to find that he couldn’t, entirely. If you ask him point-blank, he will say that he knows his father was wrong and he’s not ashamed of his true self or his true interests, but getting out from under a lifetime of abuse is never that easy. After 18 years of being glared at and derided and shouted at and hit every time he did something “Poindextery” or “girly” or “weak”, the inner voice that does the same is something he has to face down and banish almost constantly. And as I said, some of the All-American Boy affect has just become part of who he is. His healthiest self, when he can find it, is the best of both worlds, with the gregarity and leadership skills of the Golden Boy combined with true embrace of the artist and inventor he is.

Velma Dace Dinkley: Her home life during childhood was just fine. The trouble came when those pesky peers showed up. She was short, and serious, and academic, and plain, and wore big thick glasses, and so she did not get along easily with the other children. She took things seriously, so when they teased, she took that very seriously, and lashed out, which only ostracized her more. Eventually, she buried the rage the only way she could: under layer upon layer of academia, forced apathy, and prickly snark. But underneath that, she was lonely. She didn’t feel lovable, or wanted, and she was frustrated by her inability to fix whatever it was that was wrong with her. Not that she was willing to admit any of this to herself, except in the dark and still of her bedroom at midnight. Who knows just how isolated she might have become if she hadn’t fallen in with the Gang during high school. As it is, she’s cynical, has a hard time dealing with or admitting to her own emotions, and is extremely distrustful of overt kindness or friendliness (the Gang get a pass on this because she knows them well, but if a stranger starts being noticeably nice to her, out come the quills.) She is, however, scary-smart. Smart enough to get PhDs in English and History in the time it took Fred and Daphne to get their Bachelors. And sometimes, when she’s around friends and feels safe, that clever, biting wit can be used for good, instead of to push people away “before they have a chance to hurt her”.

Daphne Anne Blake: What you have to understand is that the Blake family is rich. Wildly rich. Unimaginably rich. No, richer than you’re picturing. No, double that amount. No, on second thought, square it. The other thing you have to understand is that they have been this rich for slightly longer than America has existed as a political entity. So growing up a Blake certainly comes with privileges that most children can only dream of, but it also has its drawbacks, chief among which is that you will never, for one second, be allowed to forget that you are A Blake. And such was Daphne’s childhood. Grace, deportment, beauty, all the skills of a lady, perfection. Never a hair out of place, never a stain on that dress, never a sour note, never an uncouth word or gesture, don’t frown, dear, it wrinkles your forehead, but don’t laugh to hard, it puts lines around your mouth, and don’t you dare fall off that horse. After high school, she went on to Harvard for a B.A. in Psychology, because it’s important for even girls to be properly educated. And it’s all left her a scant hop skip and a jump away from being a nervous wreck. She needs everyone to like her all the time, she needs to look perfect, she needs to be perfect. But at least on some level, she doesn’t want to need to be perfect. She wanted to be able to relax, wanted to let her hair down, wanted to find an identity outside of being A Blake. Lucky for her, she’s the youngest of a large co-ed brood, and her parents suddenly decided that it was chic to have a child who was being slightly rebellious. So as long as she doesn’t get her name in the papers in a negative way, or overspend her allocated trust fund (which would be an impressive feat), they’re perfectly happy to titter at parties about how their youngest daughter is off roaming the country with her strange little friends. As to her quest to find herself outside of her family, it has and hasn’t succeeded. She’s mostly managed to reject generational snobbery and extend her gracious manners to one and all, but sometimes without thinking about it (or sometimes on purpose when they need it for a case) she slips into The Manner Born. And it’s been a long hard process puzzling out how much of the infinite lessons she can keep and use for good, and which she must discard. (For example, she’s certainly in no hurry to abandon her taste for the finer things in life, and if you’re going to make a life out of chasing down criminals, there are worse things than being a trained fencer.) No matter what she does, she’s always going to be a lady. She just hopes to become a true gentlewoman, rather than the paradoxical people-pleasing snob her parents were raising. Her biggest progress has come in the form of letting go of any residual feelings of superiority, and becoming less and less afraid to have and state her own thoughts and opinions, no matter who does and doesn’t agree with them. She’s working on that. Slowly.

Relationships

So, like I said, the endgame here is a full-on, everybody x everybody else poly situation. But even though they (eventually) think of themselves as a foursome, with no one pairing getting any precedence but rather the four of them being a group, it is true that within that group, there are six pairs, and each individual pair is strong enough that (if I may be morbid) if any two of them died, the remaining two would stay together. So here is a summary of each of the pairs.

Fred/Daphne: Ah, the classic pair. It’s a cliché, perhaps, but they really do have plenty to bond over.They both struggle with the weight of parental expectations, they both have a flair for personal style, and heaven knows they look good together. They spend a lot of time talking to each other and helping each other with the problems that come from their parents’ respective demands, but they also have a lot of fun enjoying together the more “preppy” things that Shaggy and Velma don’t like so much.

Shaggy/Velma: The other cliché, mostly a result of pairing the spares. However, it has its legitimate reasons to exist as well. Their senses of humor complement each other; Shaggy’s more overt clowning works well with Velma’s snark. As the two more “alternative” members of the gang, they also make sense as a couple in public. Shaggy’s earnestness, empathy and sillieness can help get past Velma’s shell, and her no-nonsense practicality can often help to calm his nerves.

Daphne/Velma: The third most popular pairing (or possibly even the second, however much I might want to kid myself about the ubiquity of my childhood OTP). On some level, Velma may be put off by (and might also envy) Daphne’s beauty and grace, but she can’t help but also be drawn to it, and be constantly delighted to find the intelligence underneath. Daphne, for her part, loves Velma for her intelligence, and is amazed by her forthrightness and assertiveness. In addition, Daphne has decided that Velma’s low estimation of her own desirability is unacceptable, and has taken it upon herself to shower her with all the attention she should have been getting all these years. She’s been put on enough pedestals of her own to know how to construct one for someone else, and has thrown herself wholeheartedly into singing “Dulcinea” under Velma’s metaphorical window. Velma’s reaction to this is...complex (which is to say, she would like to just let herself enjoy it, but can’t entirely shut off her reflexive cynicism).

Fred/Shaggy: They don’t always talk very much, but that’s okay. They enjoy the quiet. Shaggy appreciates having a leader-type around, and Fred takes comfort in Shaggy’s utterly accepting nature.

Fred/Velma: In some ways, they can get competitive, but it’s never vitriolic. It’s just that she’s never been one to hide her light under a bushel, and Fred’s reaction to how impressed he is with her is to want to impress her by trying to match up to her, and she respects him enough to not talk down to him or slow up so he can catch up, and so it spirals. She shows more and more skill at investigating and figuring out who the culprit is; he refines his plans and traps more and more. That’s why it so often seems ambiguous whether Fred or Velma is the leader; they’re sparring over the title.

Daphne/Shaggy: Well, he can’t help but be a little awed that such an obvious princess is into a guy like him. And he’s so unlike the boys shes used to that she can’t get enough of him. Their differences only make them stronger. And with her Psychology degree, she may be the one most equipped to actually help him with his symptoms. No, she’s not a therapist, but at least she knows the technical terms for what’s happening, and may have a list of possible treatments. And she revels in how few expectations he has.

@scoobydooservicedog You’re getting tagged because part of this relates to what you do (and because you seem cool and I kinda want to know what you think) 

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    5/?

To read on  Ao3 click here

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

‘Does this mean that I’m finally going to see you at home again?’ Catalina asks as they are once again walking back home.

‘Ehh,’ Kat grimaces a bit, ‘I’m helping Anna.’

She knows from their previous life together that Anna never learnt how to play any instrument. She could dance well enough and Kat had fond memories of that, and she had a lovely voice albeit clearly not trained, since she had been raised with the concept that music education was not proper for a noblewoman. Anna didn’t even have to say anything out loud. She just asked her when she was free to meet, the reason implicit yet understood by both.

‘That’s fine.’ Catalina bumps her hip against Kat’s. She doesn’t want her to feel bad for spending time with her friend. Friends. Family. Fellow queens. Whatever. But she misses having her around the house. ‘Just don’t forget about your old mother.’

‘You’re not old!’

Catalina would lie if she said that her heart didn’t skip a beat, dreading the last word would be two instead...my mother.

‘Anyway!’ Catalina knows from the tone that Kat is trying to distract her, probably having noticed her mood falling slightly. Perceptive kids these days!

‘I was talking with Cathy...do you think that us getting a PhD in history, Tudor history, would be cheating?’

‘Cathy, uh?’ Probably not the part Kat wanted her to focus on, but a mother has to take her fun where she can.

‘What?’ Kat is confused at first, before turning her head and seeing the look on the older woman’s face. ‘It's not like that.’

‘Okay.’ Catalina immediately accepts the answer. Not being believed is something that at best deeply upsets Kat and at worst triggers panic attacks. She doesn’t have all the details, Kat is reticent to talk about her life after Catalina’s death if not in broad general terms and Catalina has never forced the issue. She knows Kat would tell her, Kat said it herself. But every time she offers, she looks so dejected that she always refuses. But it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and blame Henry. It had been on her mind a lot, especially after Anne’s song and her talk with her. Whether Kat’s experience had been similar to her cousin, besides the ending, or not. Catalina isn’t sure she wants to know, to be honest. ‘But if it was...it’d be okay, you know.’

Kat shrugs, a subtle hunch in her shoulder. That won’t do. Catalina puts an arm around her shoulders and draws her in, kissing her temple. ‘Want to get a slice of cake to celebrate you writing yet another brilliant song?’ She said her piece. Short, sure, but that’s all she wants Kat to know. All the rest doesn’t matter. She’ll be there if Kat will ever want to revisit the topic again.

 .

Right from the start it’s clear that Anna has decided to go for a modern take too. Music is once again streaming from Kat’s laptop, the young queen snapping her fingers as her predecessor sings.

Where my hounds at? Release the bitches (Woof)

Anne claps her hands, howling with laughter at Kat’s first venture into the song, which will also be all the other queens’ part. Jane shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Say one thing once and they will forever use it against you. She is ready to bet that Kat’s song will also include a swear word, just disguised enough that you can argue it’s not really swearing.

Lookin’ cute,

(Das ist gut)

All eyes on me,

(No criticism)

I look more rad than

(Lutheranism)

Dance so hard that I’m causing a sensation.

Okay, ladies, let’s get in reformation.

Anne is hollering, quickly followed by Cathy and, to everyone’s surprise but Kat’s, Catalina. Religion puns and Beyonce reference deserve a holler, queenly composure be damned.

Kat shoots a beaming smile at Anna. The fourth queen had been worried about her song not measuring up to the others, but the reactions are proving her wrong. She actually gets a standing ovation as the last ‘I’m the queen of the castle’ fades away.

‘Have you thought about choreography?’

‘Not really.’

‘Can I?’ Catalina exchanges a look with Anne. ‘Can we?’

Anna looks at the first two queens, both almost vibrating for the excitement. ‘Sure.’

Anne whoops and Catalina looks like she is one step away from doing the same. ‘It’s going to be glorious.’

‘Before we lose those two,’ they do look like they are ready to bolt, eager to start working on Anna’s song, ‘can I point out the,’ Cathy stops to look for the right word, ‘whiplash of going from Jane’s song to this. Both songs are amazing just…quite a different vibe?’

‘What about having an interlude? We would have three songs, well four with the intro. Interlude. Other three songs. Conclusion.’ Catalina proposes, her head seemingly back in the game and not on the dance anymore.

Cathy looks at Kat. They had sort of taken the lead on how to structure the musical…and Kat on writing the songs, having a hand in all of them so far. ‘We can give it a try.’

‘Also,’ Anne seems to be back among them too, ‘was that a Tinder reference?’

‘What’s Tinder?’ Jane sees the mirth on Anne’s face. ‘Wait. Do I actually want to know?’

 .

The whole process is going surprisingly smoothly. Sure, it has been months, but considering they have no experience whatsoever with writing musicals, having 4 songs (out of 8 planned) mostly hashed out is impressive, in Cathy’s humble opinion. And that’s not even taking into consideration them being 16th-century queens reincarnated in the 21st century figuring out the modern world...and how to get along.

Unexpectedly, since she has been the one moving everything along, it’s with Kat’s turn that the smooth process comes to a halt.

‘Why the change? Not that I mind.’ Catalina specifies. Katherine had requested them to show up at a different location instead of the usual one. This one is more like a proper recording studio, with a live room with mics and instruments and a separate control room. ‘You know we have no idea how to use all of this, right?’ she jokes, gesturing to the mixing equipment. She frowns when Kat doesn’t even attempt to give her a smile at that.

‘I need you to be in another room. I know you will hate the song and-’

‘Impossible.’ Catalina scoffs.

‘I’m sure we will love it.’  All the others have joined them, and they chime in, agreeing with Jane. She has helped them all, whether with music or lyrics or both, and it is evident to everyone, even to Cathy, the only who still hasn’t worked with her, that she has a way with music.

‘No, you won’t.’ Kat is not looking for reassurance. She has no doubt about it. ‘It’s already going to be hard. If I have to worry about your reactions too...I can’t do it with you in the room. All of you.’ She had just recently managed to go through the whole song without having a major breakdown before the end.

While the first three queens appear confused, Cathy and Anna share a look. Having lived through Katherine’s reign as queen, they are the only ones with some knowledge about her past. They even had a brief conversation about it, not wanting to betray Kat’s confidence or their ‘vow’ not to look into each other’s past, but also needing to share their thoughts with someone who could understand them. Their conclusion had been easy: even if the charges levied against her had been true, which is not a given, as Anne’s example shows, considering her age she would have been a victim and not the temptress she had been portraited as.

‘Kat.’ Cathy takes a step towards her.

‘Please.’ Kat raises her hands in front of her. ‘Don’t.’

Cathy stops, nodding, slightly dejected, Anna laying a hand on her shoulder.

Catalina had noticed Kat was worried, but she didn’t think it had reached this point. And she doesn’t know what to make of Anna and Cathy’s solemn expressions. ‘Why don’t you show us and let us decide?’ She tries to encourage her daughter with a smile.

So that’s what she does.

All you wanna do All you wanna do, baby And ever since I was a child, I'd make the boys go wild

Kat had decided to use a backing track while playing the keyboard. She hopes that having to focus on playing and singing at the same time (and actually breathing, if things go as they went during her previous practices), she will be physically unable to think about the other queens being on the other side of the glass listening to her song (she angles herself so that her back is to the window and she is also physically unable to see them, even if she were tempted to look).

He just cares so much, he's devoted He says we have a connection

Her voice breaks and by the time she reaches the last chorus she is sobbing and hyperventilating. The effort required to finish the song definitely takes her mind off the others’ reactions…but everything comes crashing down as soon as the last note resonates.

She bows her head, shoulder shaking, hands frozen on the keys. She takes deep breaths, trying to calm down. Once she has it under control, or as much as possible in the situation, she pushes herself up. Time to face the music. Or not. What if she opens the door and they had left? They wouldn’t do that...right? Her...Catalina would not do that, right? She told her she would never be disappointed in Kat…but she never knew the truth...

But what if they are still there and are...disappointed? Angry? Ashamed of her? Would that be better? Or worse? One way or another, she has to know. And regardless, she has to leave the room sooner or later. It would only be delaying the inevitable.

[phoebehalliwell]

What Hogwarts houses do you think the charmed ones are in?

hmm okay

so for starters i think prue is a slytherin, less because of the whole workaholic factor / bitchy character thing, but more because of how fierce she is to protect her family. they are her chosen circle and she will protect them to her dying breath. which i know gryffindor is sort of more the “loyalty” house, but imo it’s much more of a slytherin thing to have a really small close circle that is meticulously selected who you will be endlessly loyal to. on top of that, her undeniable ambition, especially at the expense of her own happiness. gryffindor is about chasing you passions, ravenclaw is following your mind, hufflepuff is doing your due diligence, but only slytherin is going into something you really don’t even want to do but still putting in endless effort into it because you have to be the best. we see a great example of this with prue and her jobs at the museum and the auction house. prue left behind her true passion of photography so her family could keep the manor, putting her love for her circle in front of her own personal desires, but that didn’t mean she trudged through her nine to five. she dedicated herself to her field and became one of the best, because that’s the type of person she is. we didn’t see her chase after her true dream until she was confident that the house was secure and her loved ones were safe, and then proceeded to pursue photography with just as much zeal as she did her previous work. on the darker side of the slytherin coin, we see her but her circle above the wellbeing of common folk in all hell breaks loose. when she needs to get piper to the hospital before she dies, she’s at her absolute most basic instinct. she launches people through the air not really caring where they land because she cannot let piper die and she’s willing to do whatever it takes make sure that doesn’t happen. and then for my third and final point, she’s the best at like a character study. she can read people and then work them to her advantage. she can easily get under people’s skin, or, on the flipside, pretend to be the person she knows they want to see, another very slytherin trait imo

then i would probably go and say piper is a gryffindor. like surface level i could easily go hufflepuff bc you know, she’s obviously a hard worker and all that but i just have to say gryffindor. because even though she was always sort of teased as the chicken of the family, she does have undeniable amounts of bravery, even before prue’s death. her speech to the elders in once upon a time?

i bet you guys think this is real funny, don't you haven't you taken enough from me? you have to send trolls to kick me while i'm down! i had a nice normal life once and you took that from me. you took my boyfriend, you took my life, the least you could do is leave me my freakin car keys. i am a good person, i am a good witch and damn it i would've made a great wife. and how dare you take that from me? i deserve... no, you know what? i demand that you send him back to me. you hear me? right now. i am going to stand in this very spot until you send leo back to me.

quintessential gryffindor. the gall, the rooting your feet where you stand, cursing out of a higher power, i mean hello? and she’s always been a bit headstrong. hufflepuff is more putting your head down and doing the work because you know it’s right, gryffindor is a little different. piper’s work ethic comes from her heart, if she puts effort into something, it’s because she holds a passion for it. if she doesn’t, well... right and wrong go a little out the window. in brain drain, she was willing to barter with the source just so she could have a normal life. her heart wasn’t in it, ergo she had no desire to put the work in. a lot more gryffindor than hufflepuff to me.

and then possibly my most controversial take i’m saying phoebe is a ravenclaw because okay like think about it a lot of what she does is driven by sort of this curiosity this passion for the unknown and desire to learn more. she never knew her dad, so after high school she flew halfway across the country just to try to find him. she was the first one to discover the book, and the first one to dive headfirst into witchcraft. if i’m gonna cite some sources here’s a piece of dialogue from the painted world:

phoebe: you weren’t at that job interview surrounded by all those college graduates. you don't know how good it feels to be really smart. smart people are respected, taken seriously. and really smart women, forget about it. then again, you probably do know what i'm talking about. you have a four-year degree.

piper: so what? phoebe, i will never have the kind of smarts you have, no matter what i do.

so from this we can gather that phoebe doesn’t like being viewed as unintelligent. in fact, she really wants to be considered smart, she wants to be smart. to which piper retorts that she is smart, but more street smarts. phoebe knows things that can’t be found in a textbook, she can operate in society at a much higher capacity than her sisters; it seems like everyone loves phoebe. also, she can go toe to toe with prue in an argument, and that takes a considerable amount of brains. and then we go on to see phoebe enroll in college and graduate with a ba in psychology, and then goes on to return to college to get a phd in psychology. and, of course, on top of that, she’s the best spell writer of the bunch, writing 40+ original spells in the show, including the spell to vanquish the source, the most powerful spell the charmed ones have. very ravenclaw, if you ask me. 

uhh but tragically i’m not gonna round this out by using all four house paige is a slytherin. now, you could argue paige for about every house but i’m arguing slytherin. bc okay. so much of paige’s life was about being the best person she could be for herself, you know? like her adolescence was very “stereotypical slytherin” with excess drug use, being goth and a dramatic fuck up to your parents, stuff you see on pinterest moodboards yknow. and then she becomes a social worker, which people would usually go to as like hufflepuff support. but like,, paige was Not like a hard worker at that job. she held a passion for it yes, and she did get things done, but she was notoriously late and behind schedule, and had a bad habit of vanishing for extra long lunch breaks (even before she was a witch, if i’m not mistaken). furthermore, her methods of getting things done are less doing the works in a solid and proper method, and more about cutting corners and using her own cunning to get it done in the most efficient way possible (i mean, she was the one to use personal gain undeniably the most). and this isn’t an insult! when she first got the book of shadows, she immediately took it to work and started using it in her cases. yes, this was “personal gain”, but she was doing it to help others. with the flipside being like she didn’t need magic & should probably have done her task properly so the use of it wasn’t necessary but like i feel like that only makes it more slytherin. and then moving on, her superwitch phase was obviously her putting herself in competition with prue, and her obsessive competitive need to be the best. slytherin. and then the next season she tried to dodge magic in an attempt to reclaim her life and find some greater meaning to herself. slytherin. her whole dynamic with kyle and being chill with him knocking out sheridan was very slytherin. in season 8, her whole early competition growing into flirty with henry is very slytherin. her dynamic with her father is very slytherin (calling back to what i was talking about prue, she has closely selected her inner circle and it takes a lot of work to get it. we also see this in early season four onward with her having trouble to come to terms with new sister living and accepting piper and phoebe into her circle.) what i’m getting at is paige is a very much a slytherin when you stop to think about it.

[awaylaughing]

Pippa and Hamin for the ship meme!

let’s GOOOOO. Under a read more because I can talk about Ideas For Fucking Ever. The meme in question and if you read this and think “golly gee, I’d love to give you an opprotunity to chat more about othere people” I have a shiny new character page you could reference here.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

This one I had to think about. Hamin probably makes a better werewolf, but Pippa makes a UNIQUELY terrible hunter so, pivoting ever so slightly maybe she’s more like a behind the scenes information broker type (Pippa, Collector and Keeper of Secrets is incredibly canon after all). She’d obviously have to start off allied with the hunters, to keep the tension with Hamin real and true. Hamin’s pack doesn’t have the WORST reputation possible, but they’re definitely not above suspicion. They retain their passion for ocean voyages, which strikes other people as odd because prejudice.

That said, you know who ALSO makes a great werewolf? Pippa’s mother and “aunt”, Roshan and Jessamine, so Pippa as part of a bamf all lady’s wolf pack who get tangled up with hunter shenanigans is also an excellent plot. Not least because Pippa would be a very pretty wolf, I dare say (maybe they’d actually be were-jackels, a la the Golden Jackel? A Consideration, given where I HC a modern AU Pippa would be from).

In this case I’d say the lady’s pack almost never maul people, except maybe domestic abusers and rapists, but who can blame them? So another pack moves in (it’s prob Jarrude’s lbr) and causes problems and Very Serious Hunter Hamin (ha) has to wade through the complicated world of lycanthrope politics to find The Truth. And of course falls in love with the nicest werewolf this side of whatever major geographical feature of your choice.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Mermaid Pippa and “fisherman” Hamin, natch. Pippa’s not very ruthless canonically, but I can apply liberal use of Alternate Cultural POVs On Ethics and say Pippa only leaves her goaded people on rocks, she never drowns them! That’s very nice of her! And sometimes she pulls an Ariel and helps a bro out, which is probably related to how her and Hamin meet. Some options:

1. Pippa had previously saved Hamin’s life, so in turn, something happens and she gets caught, and he saves her life as repayment. Similar to Bog Standard Plot Below, she’s obviously too injured to return to sea so they’re forced to cohabitate. High jinks and romance ensue.

2. Bog standard mermaid washed ashore plot. Bathtub high jinks ensue. There’s a scene where someone catches Hamin carrying a bucket of raw fish into his house and he has to explain it away. Leala catches on in the first 20 mins. At some point, they’re forced to bring Pippa to dinner with Hamin’s dad and there is much nerves, only for Pippa to reveal she’s stranded many a gentlemen adventurer in her time and she picked up some epic etiquette knowledge along the way.

3. Hamin gets stranded somewhere and Pippa’s the only person around who can come visit. It starts with her bringing him fish. Requisite Second Act Breakup is when Pippa, conscience having formed in the last hour of run time, reveals a way off his small deserted island. Obviously, he sails off in a huff and they meet up again in the next 35 minutes, have the big damn kiss and idk how you turn this one into a true happy ending and not a sort of esoteric one but Hollywood and or an Indie Darling Director will manage.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Witch Pippa, hands down the answer. She gets it from her grandmother (er, step-grandmother?). Does Hamin have an animal form? If so, does it align to Pippa Aesthetic and is he a snakey boi or, does he get to pick? What would Hamin pick? Seagull - the goose of the sea?

Other option is he’s always human and either case I’m betting Hamin’s not a traditional familiar. Rather, he needed to get out Faerie/Familiarland STAT and filched Pippa’s contract off a Traditional And Proper Familiar and got himself a ticket to human land away from whoever he pissed off.

High jinks ensue.

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

I had to think about this one because I mean let’s be very real here - neither Pippa, Quintessential Nice But Still Privileged Rich Girl or Hamin “cause problems for the staff on purpose” are shoe ins for having worked for customer service. That said, Hamin’s more likely to piss off his dad and be forced to get a job and like, have a real person job in general. So, Hamin’s barista job is his in-world Summit equivelent and he planned to quit the moment he paid off whatever damages he’s definitely paying off.

Except, Pippa comes in and orders only moderately complicated coffee orders and this isn’t a place that does the name thing so Hamin knows Nothing except she’s friendly and pretty and omg this one is perfect to throw in the OT3 because clearly the only reason he doesn’t just immediately ask Pippa for her name and number and also the next 20 years of her life pls and thanks is her hot boyfriend.

(But it’s okay, Pippa has two hands and so does Zarad u_u)

Otherwise she’d have to be someone who just comes to drive through bc idk why he’d hold off on asking since this is HAMIN we’re talking about.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

...either of these two in academia is an interesting prospect. Maybe he’s a kid who got into archeology because of Indiana Jones and, while there’s far fewer chase scenes and death traps, Hamin ended up with a PhD and a job and look, he’s as confused as you are about how this all happened. It’s alright though because the job does come with cute anthropology TAs who work in an allied and often cross referential field. Pippa’s less immediately enamoured with Hamin but warms up because he’s the only person who actually listens to her and doesn’t treat her like she’s a child just because she’s a short woman.

This one could be set in exciting locales for a bit of Indie Flavour but with more consent and less horrifying age gaps, and no breaking of international laws and if anyone gets squished by rocks it’s a horrifying rock slide scenario.

Alternatively, polisci professor Pippa is working alongside the marine biology department to work on smth enviro-politics and ocean protection. TA Hamin is Very Enthusiastic about helping her out. This one features a scene where people naturally assume Hamin’s the professor and he trolls the ever living shit out of them.

This one is set in conferences which is 10000% less sexy but also way more familiar.

Depends on the vibes u want. Either way, Lyon is there somewhere and he and Pippa are unlikely friends purely because 4′10″ Pippa and like, 6′5″ or whatever Lyon being friends is never not hilarious. He definitely disapproves of Hamin just in general but especially in a library setting.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

This is legit a Knight’s Tale AU, except instead of Jousting, we’ll say Hamin ends up taking Princess Pippa across the country as a sort of personal security situations and, as usual high jinks ensue. IDK who makes the best Chaucer stand in as a pal to help Hamin in his quest but he definitely needs the help. Pippa catches on like, super fast anyway because her interpersonal insight is boss af but she just goes with it because it’s amusing and he’s doing a fine job.

Another candidate for the OT3 bc Chaucer!Zarad is perfect, but so is the plot being that Hamin and Zarad had a thing aaages ago, now Pippa’s being carted off to marry prince Zarad and oh hey this is also nearly a Sinbad AU but with the proper Poly Ending in place

There is no AU where Pippa’s a the knight to Hamin’s prince, I’m sad to say. Her martial skills are about nil.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

HMMM. I think Early Childhood Specialist Hamin and Parent Pippa shake out best, mostly because at the end of the day I don’t think Pippa like...likes kids that much. She doesn’t dislike them but she’d never want a life devoted to spending all her time with them. Her own kids though, different story.

Evil instinct says dad is Clarmont, because I feel like Clarmont is really easy to kill off in incredibly tragic but heroic circumstances and Modern AU Pippa would totally be down for a Clarmont romance. Anyway, Pippa has an adorable little girl who thinks Mr. Hamin is the BEST teacher, he helped her dig up worms for her show and tell at recess mama!

Pippa and Hamin in this set up don’t actually meet for like, a solid three months so they both form skew-whiff images of the other and so they get a CLASSIC “oh no (s)he’s hot / THIS IS MR. HAMIN / THIS IS MS. X” moment. Adorable Little Girl is captain of this ship despite being like, 4 and Pippa and Hamin are just along for the ride.

High jinks ensue.

(alt bc I’m never not on my bullshit dad is Zarad, and not dead and they just never married bc Family Drama and OT3 babey)

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Absolutely writer Hamin and editor Pippa. She inherited from someone who quit and she really shakes things up by like, having Expectations and shit and Hamin, who’s been not in a good place following a personal trauma, finds himself annoyed for all of two seconds before she shows up on his doorstep on the day after a due date because if he wants to play Pippa will Play. And oh no, she’s cute. Hamin is enraptured, Pippa just wants him to work at first. Romance blossoms lopsidedly but he charms her after some sort of deal is struck that includes her dragging him out of the house to buy food or just go for a walk or whatever.

Shenanigan ensue.

This one is pure fluff about the power of human connection, there is no second act drama they get to skip ahead AND collect their 20 dollars it’s great.

[omorainbow]

wassup everyone, here’s my absolutely garbage r/fa omorashi headcanons that nobody asked for or wanted (under the cut)

ze/n

he has nearly supernatural healing abilities so i feel like he’d also have super efficient kidneys

honestly probably has the smallest bladder capacity in the rf/a lmao rip

(he canonically was shocked that se/ven and yo/osung hadn’t gone to the bathroom for three hours while watching a tv show.... honey, do you think that’s a long time?!)

wetting himself onstage would be his worst nightmare; he’s probably leaked up there a few times but never actually wet

the second worst thing that could happen to him would be wetting in front of j/umin- i think ju/min wouldn’t do much except either a. make a few snarky remarks about wetting yourself being unusual for an adult or b. actually attempt (with a 100 percent chance of failing, seeing as it’s jumi/n) to be ....considerate.... about it, depending on how upset z/en seemed, but either way ze/n would get mad. there’d be some tension in the r/fa chatroom for a while lol

despite his machismo he’d actually probably be a huge baby about wetting himself lmao. he needs a lot of comfort afterwards (specifically from you)

absolutely 0% into omo imo, he’d try it for m/c’s sake if she were into it tho

yoosun/g:

tends to overestimate his holding capacity... would definitely put off going to the toilet if he was gaming (or when he sits down to study) 

at the same time, he gets very whiny if circumstances (rather than his own choice) force him into holding. expect this boy to come whining in the r/fa chatroom if he’s ever stuck somewhere without a bathroom

if he drinks coffee it’s over for him

(pass out after drinking caffeine syndrome? more like piss yourself after drinking caffeine syndrome-)

has definitely had close calls during exams from overloading on coffee before, but he never learns

if he wets himself in front of anyone, he’d be as embarrassed as you’d expect and probably cry a bit (though he’d try to suppress it because he feels he’s already made himself look childish enough), but with some gentle comfort he’d get over it surprisingly quickly (expect him to get indignant if/when sev/en teases him later tho lol)

probably the worst thing that could happen to him is wetting in front of v (while wetting in class is a close second). this would be a disaster for everyone involved.

(v: it’s alright y/oosung, please let me help you)

(yoosu/ng (in tears): SHUT UP I DON’T NEED PITY FROM THE LIKES OF YOU)

(v: you’re right. i’m sorry. this is all my fault-)

definitely into holding for m/c (for reasons that are probably obvious to anyone who played his route lmao)

ja/ehee (my love)

jum/in probably doesn’t realize how often normal humans need bathroom breaks so after years of working for him she’s probably in the habit of holding for long periods of time

honestly tho, if she’s passed out from being overworked, she’s DEFINITELY wet herself from it

i imagine she’d get up and go when she absolutely had to, but if something came up on her way there she might not make it rip

also a coffee lover... doesn’t really pace herself with caffeine, make of that what you will

if she wet herself at work, she’d just die. her coworkers already don’t  respect her, and her job is hard enough... jum/in would probably allow her to go home but also would complain in the chatroom about it

ju/min: “It’s very difficult to work without Assistant K/ang here. She had to leave due to an accident.”

m/c: “oh no, an accident? is jae/hee okay?”

jumi/n: “I am sure she will be fine. Wetting oneself does not usually pose a risk to one’s health.”

ze/n: immediately fights ju/min

as there’s nothing to be done for it, she’d downplay how upset she was and probably find wetting more of an inconvenience than anything. that being said she’d deeply appreciate it if m/c gave her some comfort

omo is probably a deeply hidden guilty pleasure for her, she’d only try it if m/c suggested it but i feel she might really enjoy it in specific circumstances

jum/in

very strong bladder capacity

would show no signs of being desperate except maybe a few tells like idk, occasionally fidgeting? the only people who’d pick up on these are people who know him very well (meaning like... v and m/c lol)

if he did wet himself, i think he’d show absolutely no emotion. once again, only someone who knew him very well would be able to tell he was actually upset

for most people, comforting him would be pretty difficult and probably a nightmare for both parties lmao

i think he’d be more accepting of it from you tho

it’s hard to write for him, bc i feel like situations in which he’d be desperate are rare

that being said, if he gets drunk enough (which is rare, seeing how his tolerance has built over the years) he might get to the point where he stops caring and just starts peeing. of course he’ll realize halfway through that this may not be a great idea, but it’s usually too late at that point lmao

he’s definitely into omo lol

seve/n

high bladder capacity

that being said, also fucking terrible at self care (... they all are tbh but se/ven is the worst about it) and if he was working, he may not notice he needs to piss until he’s on the verge of wetting and he just doubles over at his desk like. swearing and wondering how tf he didn’t notice he had to go before

definitely has been too busy to get up for a bathroom break, usually would just piss in a bottle/can of phd pepper (i’m sure he’s got empty ones lying around his workstation)

if he didn’t he’d probably just piss himself right there as he continued to work and miserably resolve to clean it later

(vande/rwood, conveniently choosing this moment to drop by: damn, bitch, you live like this?)

seeing as he’s sleep deprived as hell, whenever he gets to sleep he probably sleeps like the dead, nothing able to wake him up... what i’m saying is he’s definitely had dreams where he was using the bathroom and woken up in the middle of wetting the bed

also probably into omo lbr. though he usually hates wetting, he likes doing it for m/c. he’s probably wet his maid uniform for fun

v (oh boy)

probably gets a nervous bladder

the least likely of the guys to just whip it out and go if he needed to

you know how everyone loves those characters who are too concerned about bothering others to mention they have to pee? that’s 100% v. you could keep asking him as he got progressively more antsy and he’d just keep insisting he was fine and that you shouldn’t worry. he might casually mention that he may possibly need a restroom, but isn’t super assertive or clear about it, so most people wouldn’t think it was a big deal (even though he’s dying on the inside)

he does get somewhat fidgety, adjusting his clothes and bouncing his leg, but it wouldn’t be obvious what the cause was; you’d just mistake it for nervousness. only people who know him well (such as jum/in or seve/n) would be able to figure it out

i honestly can’t decide what his number one worst scenario would be, but i think anything in public would be nearly traumatic for him. if he wet himself in front of the other r/fa members he’d just get real quiet and say he’s fine and that he’ll clean it himself, but in reality he’d be deeply upset

this makes comforting him all the more difficult, even when you’re trying to tell him it’s okay he’d probably just keep apologizing and telling you not to worry about him

probably not really into omo but would try it for m/c

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

call now for a free gift! [part ii/iii]

Six years after Rey’s first Christmas with Ben and his family, unexpected gifts abound at the annual Organa-Solo-Skywalker(-Kenobi?) Christmas celebration.

Featuring: Organa-Solo-Skywalker shenanigans, a ton of major surprises, and fluff. Again with the fluff. It’s always the damn fluff.

Here we go again! Buckle up, friends, because it’s about to get fluffier than ever before. Leia and Rey have their annual Christmas breakfast, and Rey and Ben receive an unexpected gift from the twins.

Part I Also available on AO3.

“Where are you going?” Ben mumbles as Rey gets out of bed, barely awake enough to look up at her as she cards a hand through his hair.

“Christmas breakfast with your mother,” she reminds him, leaning in for a quick kiss before she drags herself out of bed and over to her bag in search of a sweater. “Don’t worry, you can keep sleeping.” It’s a longstanding tradition between the two women at this point, to enjoy a quiet Christmas morning while everyone else sleeps in. Sometimes Rey wonders just how her teenaged self would have reacted to the news that she would one day share a Christmas tradition with the Leia Organa, and it never fails to put a smile on her face.

Ben turns on his side to track her movements, and his lips are pursed in a distinctly pout-like manner – not that he’ll ever admit to it. “It’s our first morning as an engaged couple, and you’re leaving me in bed to go have breakfast with my mother?”

“Maybe you should’ve timed your proposal better,” Rey teases, voice muffled as she pulls a sweater over her thin camisole. “Besides,” she sits next to Ben, gives him a placating smile as her hand curves around his cheek, “we had a rather eventful first night as an engaged couple. That should tide you over for now.”

And with one final kiss – shorter than Ben would like, judging by the way he tries to reach for her and whines when she steps away –, Rey disappears into the bathroom down the hall to freshen up before breakfast with her future mother-in-law.

She walks into the kitchen to find Leia already comfortably settled at the breakfast table as always, two mugs of Irish coffee keeping her company as she waits for Rey.

“Merry Christmas,” Rey says as she reaches for the coffee out of habit. At the last minute she abruptly changes course and picks up some toast instead, but she knows there’s no way Leia didn’t catch that.

The other woman’s eyes twinkle. “Merry Christmas indeed,” she murmurs over the lip of her mug, and Rey busies herself with spreading butter and jam over two slices of toast while she gathers up the nerve to ask Leia a question that’s been on her mind since yesterday.

“Leia?” she finally calls, setting down her toast.

“Hmm?”

Rey smiles at the knowing look Leia gives her. “What made you propose to Han?”

“Oh,” Leia blinks, the slightest bit taken aback. “Well, there’s the short version: I saw him building a crib and my hormones got the best of me. And then there’s the truth: up until that exact moment, I wasn’t sure about anything. I never told anyone but god, I was so scared. I’d known Han for three years by then, but we’d spent the entirety of that time being outlaws, being rebels, always doing reckless and exciting stuff. It’s easy to form a connection, when you’re living a life like that, but I always knew in the back of my mind that it was a whirlwind of a thing, that it might not work in a real world setting.” There’s no hiding the sadness in her eyes at the prospect, even all these years later.

“And then things finally calmed down, and before we could even really get to know each other, suddenly I was pregnant. Han stuck around, I always knew he would, but I had no way of knowing if this was something he wanted or if he was just doing the right thing. My noble scoundrel, I’d call him in my head sometimes,” Leia shakes her head with a fond smile. “I knew he’d stay, knew he’d try his best, but… to see him there in the garage, first thing in the morning, building a crib for this baby he couldn’t have seen coming, this baby that had ostensibly ruined his whole lone wolf bachelor life… I knew then that we’d be okay. I didn’t know how we were going to make things work, exactly, but I knew that he loved the baby already and that was enough for me.”

“That’s all you need, really,” Leia tells her, that knowing look back in her eyes. “Just love them, and you can figure it out from there.” And then, before Rey can even think to act dumb, she asks, “So, how far along?”

Rey sighs, gives in with a tiny smile. “Five weeks.”

Leia hums, a small little thing in the back of her throat indicating consideration. Rey takes a bite of her toast as she watches the other woman get up and retrieve a bottle of orange juice from the fridge.

“I’ll take this,” Leia says as she trades Rey’s untouched Irish coffee for the orange juice and an empty glass. “So, does Ben know yet? Don’t worry - he asked for the ring ages ago, so I know it’s not a shotgun wedding.”

“No,” Rey whispers as she fiddles with said ring, wonders how something can feel so foreign yet so right. She’ll get used to it, she supposes; has all the time in the world to do so. “I haven’t told him. I just don’t know if we’re ready for this,” she admits quietly, letting all of her fear and doubt seep into her voice. This is Leia, after all – if there’s anyone who can help Rey through this (aside from Ben, who isn’t exactly an option right now), it’s her. “I mean, we’ve talked about it, of course, but it’s always been one of those someday things, you know? And now he’s just finished his PhD, and we’re both starting new jobs soon, and there’s still the move–”

“Rey,” Leia reaches across the table to still her shaking hand. It works almost as well as when Ben does the same thing to calm her down and keep her from spiraling. “There’s only one thing you need to consider right now. Do you want this?”

“I…” She lets her free hand drift down to her stomach, thinks of how every single vision of hers for their future had immediately started to change the second she’d found out, an automatic and instant instinct to accommodate this tiny new life. It’s only been four days, but Rey can’t imagine going back to any of those plans from before. So she tells Leia, confident and scared at the same time, “Yes. I do.”

Leia gives her a brilliant smile, squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Then you’ll be just fine, as long as you and Ben are there for each other.”

A sense of calm settles over her. Leia always makes things so simple, strips all of her worries and insecurities away until the bare truth remains: as long as they have each other, she and Ben will be fine. She can already picture it: the two of them as a team, taking on unexpected pregnancy challenges and the uncharted territory that is parenthood. She’ll worry about not being a good mom since she didn’t have one, and he’ll actively fear repeating his parents’ mistakes, but together they’ll guide each other and figure it out and–

The sense of comfort and peace lasts for all of five seconds before Rey remembers– “Oh god, I still haven’t told him.”

Leia pats her hand, gives Rey a gentle smile before she picks up her coffee. “You should probably do that.”

Christmas lunch is a quiet affair this year, just the five of them since all of the usual suspects are otherwise occupied.

“So,” Han says after a few minutes of comfortable silence, a novelty at this table, “what’s this new job about, kid?”

By the time Rey looks up, he’s already focused on his food, and so there’s no telling which of them the question had been addressed to. She and Ben share a look before he asks, “Which one?”

Han stares at them, a forkful of roast hovering just beyond his mouth. He looks almost confused for a moment, as if he himself hadn’t thought that through. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s blurted out the first thing to come to mind just because Leia gave him a gentle nudge to say something. “Both of them, I guess.”

“I’ve got a job teaching poli-sci and maybe another related class or two,” Ben shrugs between bites. “That’s about it, really. But Rey’s new job–”

“Hey,” Rey turns to him, “don’t downplay it. You’ve been offered tenure at the University of Theed pretty much right out of the gate, with only a few years of teaching experience in Coruscant. That’s amazing,” she tells the rest of the table.

“It is very impressive, Ben,” Luke chimes in supportively. “To be tenured in this day and age, especially with less than five years of experience – you’ve done well, Dr. Solo.”

“We’re very proud of you,” Leia tells her son, and to everyone’s surprise–

“Yeah, what she said, kid,” Han adds, with no trace of sarcasm and no sign of Leia having given him a slight kick under the table to say so.

He’s even smiling, and Rey’s heart warms to see Ben slowly smiling back at his father. “Thanks,” he tells the table, but looks directly at Han.

“Yeah, yeah,” his father says after a while, not quite able to hide his smile behind his usual gruff demeanor. “What about you, kid?” he asks Rey.

“It’s, um, it’s pretty exciting, actually,” Rey says hesitantly, weighs how much detail she can get into without boring everyone else. Luke, she knows, is always happy to talk shop – though a physicist by profession, he’s proven more than capable of keeping up with her aeronautical engineering tangents –, but she decides to just give everyone the highlights. “The government of Naboo and the University of Theed are setting up a new lab to look into more fuel-efficient crafts, and they somehow found out about me and decided to bring me in. It’s going to be a lot of actual engineering and research, which will be fun after two years of mostly technical trouble-shooting and paperwork.”

Luke looks just as proud of her as he was of Ben, and Leia and Han beam at her even if they don’t quite get the magnitude of what this offer means for her career. But Ben – “They didn’t just somehow find out about you,” he shakes his head at Rey with a patient smile, turns to his family with bright eyes. “Rey wrote this amazing thesis for her master’s about alternative fuel options she experimented with back in Jakku. It’s become sort of infamous in the right circles, and Theed has been keeping track of her ever since. She was one of the first people they contacted about the new lab, and they’re making her part of an elite team of eight engineers heading up the whole thing.”

She almost wants to contradict Ben and tell everyone it’s not as impressive as he makes it out to be, but then he turns to smile at her, all proud and supportive, and god, Rey loves this man. So she decides to just smile back at him and duck her head for a bit until her cheeks don’t feel that warm anymore.

“Sounds about right,” Han shrugs after a moment. “Always knew you two were pretty damn impressive.”

Luke seconds that, and Leia proposes a toast to the two of them and new beginnings. If Han or Luke notice that Rey doesn’t actually drink from her glass – the way she didn’t drink from any of her glasses at the party last night, simply handing them over to Ben whenever he needed a refill –, they’re tactful enough not to hint at anything that hasn’t been announced.

Rey eyes Ben as he sets down his half-empty glass and instantly gets roped into a conversation with Han about recent upgrades on the Falcon. After a while his hand reaches out for hers, but he doesn’t look her way, doesn’t catch her switching their glasses.

Still. Rey knows she can only keep this from him for so long.

After lunch she and Ben help Luke with the dishes while Han and Leia take a walk, and it takes them a little longer than usual to get everything washed and dried because they’re too caught up in reminiscing about life in Coruscant U.

“So when are you moving?” Luke asks almost reluctantly, having expressed for the tenth time how weird it’ll be not to run into either of them around campus anymore.

“End of January, most likely,” Ben says as he returns dried dishes to their rightful places. “They’re bringing me in after midterms as a mid-semester replacement, and Rey’s job doesn’t start till March. Figure that’ll give us enough time to get properly unpacked and moved in before work starts.”

Luke nods along to his nephew’s explanation. “Have you found a place yet?”

Rey sighs. “Not yet. Everything is either too far, too expensive, or too small. And we don’t want to sign a lease on a place we’re not happy with.”

“Housing in Theed is a fucking nightmare,” Ben grumbles to his uncle. “I know it’s been a while and it’s a major city, but I don’t remember it being anywhere near this awful back when we used to go there for the summer.”

“Well, things change,” Luke shrugs, and Rey thinks she catches the slightest hint of a grin before he turns back to the dishes with a forced and telling casualness. “But I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you two. I think Leia has an idea.”

Ben squints at his uncle’s back, and turns to Rey with a suspicious look. She simply nods in agreement and goes back to drying the dishes.

It isn’t until much later, towards the end of the night, that they find out just what Luke had been hinting at.

“So,” Leia announces once they’re all food-sleepy and eggnog-drowsy, “Luke and I have a surprise for you two.”

Luke’s entire face lights up as he claps his hands together gleefully. “Finally! I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

“Don’t ruin it,” his sister shoots him an admonishing look before she gets up and walks over to the Christmas tree in the corner, all twinkling lights and tasteful ornaments and not a single present under the tree, as per Organa-Skywalker-Solo tradition.

Rey and Ben watch Leia retrieve one single gift from the tree, nestled amongst its lower branches rather than placed under it. It’s a small box, all glossy red paper and classy silver ribbon, and upon spotting it last night Rey had mistaken it for a slightly-oversized ornament.

Now Leia holds the gift out to them, and Ben slowly reaches out to take it. “I thought this was a gift-free household,” he reminds his mother.

“Open it,” Leia simply tells him, returning to her seat between Han and Luke, both of whom appear to be leaning forward in anticipation.

Ben nudges her with his shoulder and holds the box out on one palm, and Rey carefully slips off the ribbon before she lifts the lid off the box and fishes out a set of keys.

It takes her a while to recognize them – Ben always uses his own set when they visit – but as soon as her eyes land upon the familiar address carved into the small wooden keychain, recognition dawns upon her. Ben too, if his tiny gasp is any indication.

“Mom, this is…”

Rey looks up at the twins. “You’re giving us…?”

Leia nods, a huge smile on her face. “Varykino, yes. I know it’s all the way out in Lake Country but honestly, given the traffic in Theed, this will make for a much more pleasant commute. The road from Lake Country into Theed leads right to the university, since it’s on the edge of the city anyway. And from there Rey should be able to easily take the train or a shuttle to work. So really, it’s not even that much of a drive.”

“You can either sit in Theed traffic for an hour,” Luke adds, looking horrified just by the idea of it, “or you can start your days with a scenic, traffic-free forty-minute drive.”

Rey and Ben turn to look at each other. It’s a wonderful idea, and they love Varykino, but…

“We can’t possibly accept this,” Rey tells the twins.

“It’s too much,” Ben agrees. “This is a whole house. This is your mother’s house. You can’t just–”

“Ben,” Leia interrupts him with a patient tone. “It was always going to be yours, anyway. And when you two got together, Luke and I agreed that it would be your wedding present. Now you’re engaged – so close enough, we figure – and you’re in need of a house in Naboo. So here you are.”

“Merry Christmas, happy wedding, and just don’t ever expect another gift from us for the rest of your lives,” Luke says with a grin.

They hesitate for a moment more, until Han decides to pipe up. “Just take it, kids. No one ever offered me a fancy house when I got engaged, but there’s no way I would’ve turned that down.”

So they accept the house, with a million thanks and tight hugs.

A little while later, as they’re all saying their good-nights and heading to bed, Leia suggests, “You two should take off for a while, spend the rest of your week in Varykino.”

“But we just got here–” Rey protests weakly.

Leia smirks at them. “Just go. I was young and newly engaged once too, you know. You need some privacy.”

From upstairs, Han calls down, “And we need some space from your celebrating!”

“Please,” Luke decides to chime in from the top of the stairs. “Please spare us from your celebrating.”

“Bunch of prudes,” Leia rolls her eyes at the men. “Just… stay for lunch, okay?” she tells Ben and Rey. “And after that you can go have a pre-honeymoon honeymoon or whatever it is you want to call it.”

Ben reaches out to pull his mom into a hug. “Thanks, Mom. For this, and the house, and just… everything.”

Leia leans into her son with a smile. “You’re welcome. Now, off to bed. You two have a long drive ahead of you tomorrow.”

They trade their good-nights, thank Leia one last time, and head upstairs. In bed, while Ben traces squiggly lines up and down her arm, he muses out loud, “We could have the wedding in Varykino.”

Rey, half-asleep already, lifts her head from its perch on Ben’s chest. “Hmm?”

“The wedding. Our wedding,” Ben smiles. “We could have it in Varykino, if you’d like. I know you don’t want anything big and flashy, but this should give us enough room to invite all of our closest friends and even house some of them overnight if we have to, and it’s got a great view, you love the lake–”

“Okay,” Rey yawns, presses a kiss to the hollow of his neck before she allows her eyes to close. “That sounds perfect. Let’s get married in Varykino.”

Distantly she hears Ben chuckle, feels his chest rise and fall as he stops caressing her arm and drops his hand to curl around her waist. “We’ll talk about it again when you’re not dozing off. Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Ben,” she mumbles, and allows herself to drift off in his arms.

So the plan was to keep each chapter at about two-thousand words.

This is a little over three-thousand. Whoops, I did it again. There were bits and pieces in this chapter that I really debated taking out, but at the end of the day I want you guys to know what's going on with their lives, every tiny detail. Because that's the only satisfying goodbye I can give these two, I think - one where we know where they're headed and how their lives will play out. (And yes, this fic is really just one long goodbye to this 'verse. It's like a three-chapter epilogue, basically.)

Tune in tomorrow for the last chapter! Will Rey finally tell Ben her secret? Will they christen every surface of Varykino?? What if they - GASP - decide to elope right there and then??? (Spoiler alert: they don't.)

Anyway, see you then. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to like/reblog/comment/etc.!