#the scene is

[princess-of-the-corner]

Me, staring at the word document, wondering how the fuck to write this:

[zannithinks]

Fathom, please!

Thank you for the ask! It's so motivating ♡ Apologies for the delay, I got sick :( but here's a bit more of my crazy Fathom story. Be Warned: there are inconsistencies abound, this thing has a lot of context going on behind the scenes. If you're confused, don't worry, so is Jim. (This occurs just a few lines after the first snippet I shared, which is linked below) Fathom Snippets Part 1 | Part 2

“Gown off.” 

“What?” Jim hunches like the guy is about to rip it off of him. Rationally he knows a doctor wouldn't do that, but the frequency in his head flickers enough to sow deep rooted doubt. Someone’s ripped the clothes off his back before, it tells him, it could happen again. 

“Visual inspection for edema, lesions, rashes, the sort. It’s just me here, kid, ‘aint no one you gotta impress.” 

Jim doesn't move. The moment he reveals his skin, he’s gonna reveal something that shouldn’t be found out, but a snowstorm of static in his brain keeps him from remembering exactly what it is, and Bones keeps looking at him like- like-

“Doesn’t the tech tell you that?”  Jim’s hands curl over the edge of the biobed like the grip will ground him into the here and now. He’s pretty sure the doctor just glanced at the readings, probably seeing his elevated heart rate, but Jim can’t do anything about that, he’s too desperate to stall and too frustrated about not knowing why. 

“Don’t trust the machines with everything, that’s why they still hire me, don’t they?” 

This guy’s cocky. Not in the bold way Jim can be, more in the sheer amount of confidence he has in his own abilities to pick up more than bioscanners can. Competence is always a turn on, but Jim can’t focus on that. Really, he can’t focus on anything. Not since the red alert started blaring. His chest tightens at the reminder of his nightmare. Or was it a memory? 

The doctor settles into his stance, looking perfectly ready to stand there all day. “There’s no rush, Kirk. When you’re ready we’ll continue.” 

He flinches. “Don’t call me that.” 

Bones doesn’t call him that unless he’s pissed off or trying to be annoying. The doctor’s not angry, but his frown is deeper, so Jim’s gotta be doing something wrong. This isn’t his life. Sporadic bursts of small truths come through his brains buzzing static. Jim's from a place where he's going to live alone and die alone, and that's how it's supposed to go.

“What should I call you?” 

He risks a glance. Bones looks tired and worn out, but his tone remains patient.

“Jim.”  “Ok, Jim.” 

It teases a smile out of him, even though this Jim wouldn't understand the huff of irritation is actually disguised amusement.

This world belongs to him and Bones, and he’s fucking things up for them. He needs to stop fucking things up. 

“Ok.”  Jim nods, and this has to be the first time he's ever had to psyche himself up to take his clothes off. Or maybe just the first time he remembers.

Jim yanks the tie at the back of his neck and rips the gown off like it’s personally offended him. There. It wasn’t that hard. There was no reason to get so bent out of shape about it. 

Then he catches the doctor's expression.

[fl3a-bag]

It’s their greatest invention as of yet

[jordanbolton]

To The Substitute Art Teacher - Jordan Bolton

Pre-order my new book ‘Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car’ here - https://smarturl.it/BlueSky

[everoutoftouch]

If you have Spotify reblog this and tag what your number one song on your “on repeat” playlist is.

[aquilaofarkham]

every autistic person watching this episode of dungeon meshi:

[swedenis-h]

Wife lovers till they die

[hansoeii]

only you.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[prompt-heaven]

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

[frownyalfred]

Tips for writing those gala scenes, from someone who goes to them occasionally:

Generally you unbutton and re-button a suit coat when you sit down and stand up.

You’re supposed to hold wine or champagne glasses by the stem to avoid warming up the liquid inside. A character out of their depth might hold the glass around the sides instead.

When rich/important people forget your name and they’re drunk, they usually just tell you that they don’t remember or completely skip over any opportunity to use your name so they don’t look silly.

A good way to indicate you don’t want to shake someone’s hand at an event is to hold a drink in your right hand (and if you’re a woman, a purse in the other so you definitely can’t shift the glass to another hand and then shake)

Americans who still kiss cheeks as a welcome generally don’t press lips to cheeks, it’s more of a touch of cheek to cheek or even a hover (these days, mostly to avoid smudging a woman’s makeup)

The distinctions between dress codes (black tie, cocktail, etc) are very intricate but obvious to those who know how to look. If you wear a short skirt to a black tie event for example, people would clock that instantly even if the dress itself was very formal. Same thing goes for certain articles of men’s clothing.

Open bars / cash bars at events usually carry limited options. They’re meant to serve lots of people very quickly, so nobody is getting a cosmo or a Manhattan etc.

Members of the press generally aren’t allowed to freely circulate at nicer galas/events without a very good reason. When they do, they need to identify themselves before talking with someone.

[kuuwo]

"You were never broken Viktor, there is beauty in imperfections. They made you who you are."😔😔😔

[atissi]

locked the fuck back in

[pencildragons]

bro i LOVE indigenous fusion music i love it when indigenous people take traditional practices and language and apply them in new cool ways i love the slow decay and decolonisation of the modern music industry

[jordanbolton]

“The Driver” by Jordan Bolton

My first book ‘Blue Sky Through the Window of a Moving Car’ is out now! Order it here - https://smarturl.it/BlueSky