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#If anyone has enough patience to educate me on such things so I can update Nahida's design to be more accurate please feel free to
retro-stars · 5 months
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ON TODAY'S EPISODE OF: I Have Too Much Free Time, Free-Will, And A Pair Of Hands
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(Og/Pre-edit versions below the cut)
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daydadahlias · 4 months
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hey <3 what do you think of dead dove fics?
don’t eat <3
nah I’m just kidding. rip in advance if you wanted a concise answer to this bc u def came to the wrong person for that 💙
Anyway, I have a lot of Thoughts on dd fics (unsurprisingly so bc I have a lot of thoughts about everything) but I will preface by saying if anyone who followed me in 2021 is reading this and going “well that’s definitely not what you said back then you little minx 🤨” just know that sometimes it takes time for people to mature and better understand concepts to form articulate, educated opinions on them. And also, I was evil back then.
That being said, I think the concept of dd fics is more layered than some allow it to be. And, largely, this comes down the dispute of 1) what is safe sane consensual kink and 2) does fiction exist inside a vacuum?
Personally, I don’t think fiction does and I don’t really have a lot of patience for people who say “it’s just fiction it doesn’t mean anything or affect anyone stfu 🙄” bc that’s just showing a lack of understanding for how art and life interplay.
I think that if you read enough fucked up material (or material about anything) - especially when you’re younger and developing and don’t have appropriate models to contrast it to - you end up having your perceptions of life warped around nonexistent ideals.
So, I do worry greatly about young people reading dead dove fics and potentially not understanding that’s what they are. I’ll just go right out and say that happened to me! I read a lot of really fucked up material when I was super young bc hello unlimited internet access and it severely affected my brain and my perspectives on the world and it has taken me a very long time to reconcile that and understand myself. And I wonder a lot about what I would be like if I HADNT been up at 2 am reading torture porn when I was 12 lol!!
And of course someone could argue with me on this point and say “well but Jess that’s not the creator’s responsibility to protect readers from themselves; it’s the consumer’s responsibility to know whether they’re mature enough or not to read something” but my problem is that it is and will always be the writer’s job to at least say in the A/N “hey, this is not ok irl, and is not an accurate reflection of sex. Please do not practice this irl” or something to that effect.
If people want to write “fucked up” fics, far be it from me to tell them not to!! Especially when I myself have plenty of concerning kinks! Like, I’m literally into kidnapping?? That does not scream stable! But writers have an obligation to tag their material correctly and update tags when asked. And that’s something I’ll always believe no matter what!! And something I will always pride myself on in my own writing/relationship with my audience.
Anyway, in terms of kink itself, here’s where things get a bit tricky for me to explain. I do, to some extent, believe that all kinks are “valid” in the sense that I genuinely know kinks and fetish aren’t controllable for an individual. You don’t just have full choice to decide to be into something (what an easy life it would be if you could). But, what you can control, is the way that you choose to interact with content related to your fetish.
If you have a potentially “damaging kink” — say, for instance, a cnc kink or an outright rape kink (which are often the subject of dd fics) — it is your responsibility to interact with that content in the safest way possible to keep people irl — and also yourself! — safe.
This means, if you write rape fiction, you need to have warnings in place to say this is NOT okay to recreate irl and it is NOT okay if you treat someone like this or someone treats you like this.
And I know you’re thinking “Jess?? Readers aren’t stupid?? They know rape is bad?? They don’t need to be told that??” But, here’s the thing, children do need to be told that. And if you’re posting on the internet, there is a STRONG chance a child/adolescent with unrestricted access to an iPad will read that content you’ve made and not understand what it is and it will affect their view of sex. And if you’re a writer who isn’t considering that potentiality, you don’t need to be posting fic or writing publicly and that’s my ~opinion~
Moving forward from that, I think there’s different types of dead dove fics (rape is an example but we also have stuff like beastiality, murder, gore, necro, scat, etc) and I’m not saying some are more “valid” than others but I think some are, in my personal opinion, more defendable than others in my own view. And there are some that I think are not defendable at all.
For instance, pedophilia fics (ie. fics that actively portray sex scenes between adults and minors for the gratuitous, erotic nature of it) are, to me, completely unredeemable.
If I were to find out a person I knew actively read pedophilia fic, I would forcibly remove them from my life. Because I do genuinely believe that people who read those stories are bordering on being as criminal as those who watch pedophilic videos. I think they need clinical psychological help. I do not think there is any reason whatsoever even remotely that a person should ever be reading or writing such material for personal pleasure.
So, for dd fics like that, my opinion stands as “this is concerning on a larger scale than just fiction as this could very well perpetuate pedophilic ideologies among readers and the writer and could lead to the harm of actual real life children.”
Now, for dd fics that are about, say, murder or gore… I think the line gets a bit fuzzy there for me because I personally love a torture moment. I’m not a murder stan and it kind of gives me the Ick when people romanticize murder but, like, I sure did write a ton of incredibly graphic fucked up gore when I was a kid and I still search “torture” willy nilly on ao3 in my fave fandoms. Certainly not for 5sos though bc it being rpf provides a few ethical concerns for me personally that I wouldn’t feel comfortable with. Which brings up the topic of, is dd different for rpf than it is for fictional fandoms? Personally, I believe so, but I think that’s very up to the individual.
I think that, really with dd fics, people just need to be aware of how to tag appropriately and protect readers from inaccurately perceiving something as normal that could be harmful.
But, I also understand that dd fics can be used to help people process trauma and heal from internalized shame. So, I would be hypocritical and kind of a dick to say I denounce them entirely. But i do also think there should be some consideration of Why certain things are being written/read and what the larger implications of them are on our society :)
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itsmeautievee · 4 years
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Yale...Ya Done F*cked Up
CW: Child Abuse, Children in Distress
((Note: this is a live document where I am compiling information I receive so we can all have one point of reference regarding this situation. Thank you for your patience and understanding.))
I just learned today on TikTok about a really horrible study that was conducted at Yale University with little to no oversight. It's publication was promoted on 12/09/2020.
I wish I could say more than I have on this TikTok (link here bc Idk how to share TikToks right now). It’s a miracle I’m still speaking at all. I’m so angry. 
For now, all I can do is compile all the data I have and where it can be found.
I learned this from TikTok creator RoobiRed. The first video I saw I pretty much summarized in my video. Their second video shows their sources and what they learned from reading the study. (Watch RoobiRed’s citation video here). The Tweet publicizing the study has been taken down and I do not have a screenshot, so if anyone has it, please reblog with it.
One of the commenters shared a link with a copy of the study. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read the whole thing. I’m going to be reading it and processing it slowly.
If you’re interested and have the spoons here is are two ways to read the study:
PDF Download (Thank you Sci-Hub)
Direct link to the official online publication
If you're looking for a funding paper trail here is a link from Ann Memmott on Twitter with one.
Many commenter asked "How can a study like this be approved??". AuTeach on TikTok explains in this video
What we can do:
Reach out to your local Autistic Led Advocacy organization (Usually a chapter of the Autistic Self Advocacy Network @autisticadvocacy)
Contact ORI (The Office of Research Integrity) and COPE (Committee on Publication Ethics)
Start a petition, or share one if you know about one. If you know of a petition in progress, please let me know and I will update the post and link it here.
Research should be conducted in an ethical manner. There are other ways to learn about how Autistic people manage anxiety without traumatizing babies. 
Autistic people already have enough trauma in our lives. Don't traumatize us so you can “learn about us”. Ask us. We’re not your guinea pigs. 
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1meengreenie · 3 years
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A Vent/Update
This is kind of a long post, so I’ll be hiding it behind a read more! This is more for me to get things off my chest, so it’s alright if you skip this. I’m doing my best to resume making art, but it’s been difficult, so if you stay tuned, I truly appreciate your patience!
So it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that it’s been quite a while since I’ve made any sort of art on this blog. I figured I should probably provide an update to anyone who is concerned that something has happened to me, considering what the world has been like recently.
tl;dr: I am fine and physically healthy, but not mentally. I will keep trying my best, but I will not make any promises.
Long version: As some of you may be aware, I deal with (professionally diagnosed!) major depression and PTSD (though the PTSD isn’t really a factor here, as far as I know). I have been struggling with this for quite a number of years; if you look up “symptoms of depression,” 95% of those boxes would be checked for me, most notably in this situation “loss of interest in things you enjoy,” “fatigue,” and “persistent sad/anxious/empty feelings.” I tend to have good days and bad days, though it is more common for me to go for a period of time feeling horrible, especially if outside factors have affected me. Of note, I was juggling two jobs throughout March and April, with one of the jobs being so taxing that I eventually had to quit due to the stress it was causing me. I would come home from that job, do work for my other job, then be so mentally-drained that I couldn’t do much more than watch stuff on Youtube or play picross to unwind a bit before I had to go to bed.
Understandably, not drawing for months has affected my ability to draw. There was one point of time that I really wanted to make an effort to make art again, then I was told something that made me feel like a failure of an artist and I completely lost motivation again (I believe they meant well, but I wasn’t in the right mindset to receive criticism). Throughout May I have tried to make different pieces of art, and none of them have lived up to my standards; going two months without drawing makes me feel like I’ve lost YEARS of skill. Am I being too harsh on myself? Likely. Is it really as bad as I’m making it out to be? Probably not, but having been a perfectionist my entire life I just can’t bring myself to show others a finished product that I myself am not completely proud of (for the record, I delete pictures from my hard drive that I’m not happy with, finished or no).
I miss being in middle school and drawing absolutely “cringey” fanart, not having a care in the world what other people thought of it. I miss being able to make art for the sake of fun, not having to worry about notes or likes or retweets or growing an audience. I used to draw absolutely tacky neon-colored Sonic OCs using gel pens and shared them with one online friend. Now it feels like if I post something I spent hours on and get 30 likes (which I interpret as “it’s ok, but not good enough to show anyone”), I failed. How can I make art fun again? It’s easy to say “Just do it, who cares what anyone thinks,” but how do you break down those mental roadblocks that have been built up over years? How can I silence that voice in the back of my head that says “You’re not good enough?”
I used to love making art, but when you have a family that considers it a waste of time and thinks the only “real jobs” are those in the education, business or medical fields, you lose faith in yourself and your dreams. I make art to make others smile. To hear (or read, in most cases) someone say “This is cute!” makes me feel like I accomplished my goal. It is my dream to be able to make a video game that people will enjoy and connect with, and I just hope that one day I’m able to.
I want to draw, I really, truly do, but when I muster the energy to try, there’s a voice telling me “Why bother?” Why do I care so much about what other people think? I can’t even say “I just need to care about what I think” because I’m extremely harsh on myself as it is.
After I post this, I am going to try as best as I can to put an effort into ignoring that criticizing voice and try drawing again. I am going to try to draw things that I want to draw, even if it’s from something people consider unpopular or it’s an OC that only I love and care about. I need to re-teach myself how to draw humanoid characters, and if I have a bit of a learning curve, so what? Everyone starts somewhere.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I haven’t been able to share these thoughts with anyone, and it’s been eating away at me for quite a while (some of it even before this year, honestly). I feel like I can breathe a bit easier. I hope the next time you see a post on my blog, it’s a happy one.
-1MG
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It is always dangerous for soldiers, sailors, or airmen to play at politics. They enter a sphere in which the values are quite different from those to which they have hitherto been accustomed.
- Winston Churchill, The Gathering Storm
**Pictured above: Seated, left to right: Air Chief Marshal Sir Charles Portal; Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke, the Rt Hon Winston Churchill; Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham. Standing, left to right: the Secretary to the Chiefs of Staffs Committee, Major General L C Hollis; and the Chief of Staff to the Minister of Defence, General Sir Hastings Ismay.
No one serious has ever doubted the statesmanship of Winston Churchill. However a broad criticism of Churchill as warlord only came to light after the war. Many historians thought that he meddled, incurably and unforgivably, in the professional affairs of his military advisers.
The first surge of criticism came primarily from military authors, in particular Churchill’s own chairman of the Chiefs of Staff, and Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Alan Brooke. The publication of his diaries in the late 1950s shocked readers, who discovered in entries Brooke himself retrospectively described as “liverish” that all had not gone smoothly between Churchill and his generals.
On 10 September 1944 he wrote in his diary (an entry not known until the 2001 updated version was published:
“[Churchill] has only got half the picture in his mind, talks absurdities and makes my blood boil to listen to his nonsense. I find it hard to remain civil. And the wonderful thing is that 3/4 of the population of this world imagine that Winston Churchill is one of the Strategists of History, a second Marlborough, and the other 1/4 have no conception what a public menace he is and has been throughout the war! It is far better that the world should never know and never suspect the feet of clay on that otherwise superhuman being. Without him England was lost for a certainty, with him England has been on the verge of disaster time and again….Never have I admired and disliked a man simultaneously to the same extent.”
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Many of the British field marshals and admirals of World War II came away nursing the bruises that inevitably came their way in dealing with Churchill. They deplored his excessive interest in what struck them as properly military detail; they feared his imagination and its restless probing for new courses of action. But perhaps they resented most of all his certainty of their fallibility.
Norman Brook, secretary of the Cabinet under Churchill, wrote to Hastings Ismay, the former secretary to the Chiefs of Staff, a revealing observation: “Churchill has said to me, in private conversation, that this was partly due to the extent to which the Generals had been discredited in the First War—which meant that, in the Second War, their successors could not pretend to be professionally infallible.”
Churchill’s uneasy relationship with his generals stemmed, in large part, from his willingness to pick commanders who disagreed with him—and who often did so violently. The two most forceful members of the Chiefs of Staff, Brooke and Cunningham, were evidence of that. If he dispensed with Field Marshal Sir John Greer Dill as Chief of Imperial General Staff, he did so with the silent approval of key officers, who shared his judgment that Dill did not have the spirit to fight the war through to victory. 
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As General Hastings Lionel "Pug" Ismay (later 1st Baron Ismay), Churchill’s chief military asdvisor and link to the CIG, and others privately admitted, however, Dill was a spent man by 1941, hardly up to the demanding chore of coping with Churchill. “The one thing that was necessary and indeed that Winston preferred, was someone to stand up to him, instead of which Jack Dill merely looked, and was, bitterly hurt.”If Churchill were to make a rude remark about the courage of the British Army, Ismay later recalled, the wise course was to laugh it off or to refer Churchill to his own writings. “Dill, on the other hand, was cut to the quick that anyone should insult his beloved Army and vowed he would never serve with him again, which of course was silly.”
It was not enough, of course, to pick good leaders; as a war leader, Churchill found himself compelled to prod them as well—an activity that occasioned more than a little resentment on their part. Indeed, in a private letter to General Claude Auchinleck shortly before he assumed command in the Middle East in June 1941, Dill warned of this, saying that “the Commander will always be subject to great and often undue pressure from his Government.”
The permeation of all war, even total war, by political concerns, should come as no surprise to the contemporary student of military history, who has usually been fed on a diet of Clausewitz and his disciples. But it is sometimes forgotten just how deep and pervasive political considerations in war are. 
Take, for example, the question of the employment of air power in advance of the Normandy invasion.
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As is well known, operational experts and commanders split over the most effective use of air power. Some favored the employment of tactical air power to sever the rail and road lines leading to the area of the proposed beachhead, while others proposed a systematic attack on the French rail network, leading to its ultimate collapse. This seemingly technical military issue had, however, political ramifications, because any attack (but particularly one targeted against French marshalling yards) promised to yield French civilian casualties. Churchill therefore intervened in the bombing dilute to secure a promise that French civilian casualties would be held to a bare minimum. “You are piling up an awful load of hatred,” Churchill wrote to Air Chief Marshal Tedder. He insisted that French civilian casualties be under 10,000 killed, and reports were submitted throughout May that listed the number of French civilians killed and (callously enough) “Credit Balance Remaining.”
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This is not to say that Churchill’s military judgment was invariably or even frequently superior to that of his subordinates, although on occasion it clearly was. Rather, Churchill exercised one of his most important functions as war leader by holding their calculations and assertions up to the standards of a massive common sense, informed by wide reading and experience at war. When his military advisers could not come up with plausible answers to these harassing and inconvenient questions, they usually revised their views; when they could, Churchill revised his. In both cases, British strategy benefited.
In The World Crisis Churchill wrote: “At the summit, true strategy and politics are one.” The civil-military relationship and the formulation of strategy are inextricably intertwined. A study of Churchill’s tenure in high command of Britain during the Second World War suggests that the formulation of strategy is a matter more complex than the laying out of blueprints.
In the world of affairs, as any close observer of government or business knows, conception or vision make up at best a small percentage of what a leader does—the implementation of that vision requires unremitting effort. The debate about the wisdom of Churchill’s judgments (for example, his desire to see large amphibious operations in the East Indies) is largely beside the point. His activity as a strategist emerges in the totality of his efforts to shape Britain’s war policies, and to mold the peace that would follow the war.
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The Churchillian model of civil-military relations is one of what one might call an uneven dialogue - an unsparing (if often affectionate) interaction with military subordinates about their activities. It flies in the face of the contemporary conventional wisdom, particularly in the United States, about how politicians should deal with their military advisers.25 In fact, however, Churchill’s pattern of relationships with his Generals resembles that of other great democratic war statesmen, including Lincoln, Clemenceau and Ben Gurion, each of whom drove their generals to distraction by their supposed meddling in military matters.
All four of these statesmen, Clausewitzians by instinct if not by education, recognized the indissolubility of political and military affairs, and refused to recognize any bounds to their authority in military activities. In the end, all four provided exceptional leadership in war not because their judgment was always superior to that of their military subordinates, but because they wove the many threads of operations and politics into a whole. And none of these leaders regarded any sphere of military policy as beyond the scope of his legitimate inspection.
The penalties for a failure to understand strategy as an all-encompassing task in war can be severe. The wretched history of the Vietnam War, in which civilian leaders never came to grips with the core of their strategic dilemma, illustrates as much. President Johnson, in particular, left strategy for the South Vietnamese part of the war in the hands of General William Westmoreland, an upright and limited general utterly unsuited for the kind of conflict in which he found himself. He did not find himself called to account for his operational choices, nor did his strategy of attrition receive any serious review for almost three years of bloody fighting. At the same time, the President and his civilian advisers ran an air war in isolation from their military advisers, on the basis of a weekly luncheon meeting from which men in uniform were excluded until halfway through the war.
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A Churchillian leader fighting the Vietnam War would have had little patience, one suspects, with the smooth but ineffectual Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Earle Wheeler. He would, no doubt, have convened all of his military advisers (and not just one), to badger them constantly about the progress of the war, and about the intelligence with which the theatre commander was pursuing it. The arguments might have been unpleasant, but at least they would have taken place. Perhaps no strategy would have made the war a winnable one, but surely some strategic judgment would have been better than none. Nor can strategy simply be left to the generals, as they so often wish.
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The Churchillian way of high command rests on an uneven dialogue between civilian leader and military chiefs (not, let it be noted, a single generalissimo). It is not comfortable for the military, who suffer the torments of perpetual interrogation; nor easy for the civilians, who must absorb vast quantities of technical, tactical and operational information and make sense of it. But in the end, it is difficult to quarrel with the results.
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saintcients · 4 years
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➥ intro.
hi everyone! i’m bringing you ito fuyuko, the december baby and private detective! i’m currently still working on the pages as i wanted to have this muse up as quick as possible – so for now there’ll only be this intro, but i will update everyone once i got the pages up! i love plotting on here or discord, so just feel free to add me on there if you’d like!
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please click the read more to get some info about dearest fuyuko. ♡
basics. 
name: ito fuyuko 伊藤 冬子 [ fun fact! fuyuko actually means winter child – very fitting since she is born in december! ] / korean name: dongja 동자.
age: 27 years old.
nationality: japanese.
date of birth: 2nd of december. 
western zodiac sign: sagittarius.
chinese zodiac sign: rooster.
representative month: december.
education: bachelor’s in criminology. 
current occupation: private detective. 
current location: dallyeog, complex 4, floor 4, apartment 2.
sexual orientation: homosexual. 
languages: japanese, korean, english, little bit of chinese.
relationship status: single. 
pets: ginger cat called takahiro / picked up from the street.
background.
fuyuko is originally from nagoya, japan. her parents are both working in the manufacturing industry, but are both close to retiring soon. the ito family, due to their hard-working nature, is rather well off and there are little worries about the future money-wise. 
early on, fuyuko liked picking up her mother’s crime novels, that the woman consumed en masse; fuyuko mostly fascinated by the ones with a female lead – rendering her with an idea for her future in her head.
however, there was one problem: even the slightest little cut on her finger would make her wince, the mere sight of blood ( real blood, that is. ) making her close her eyes, not able to take a look. 
that was a problem for her, as it slowly dawned on her that being a detective and being this squeamish would definitely not work out. it baffled her a little; there was no stopping her love for true crime in any case – she could read hours and hours about unsolved cases, the most cruel things, one documentary after another, but she knew that if she would experience that in person, it would hurt her in the long run.
still, as soon as she graduated high school, fuyuko enrolled into a bachelor’s in criminology, enjoying every single class she had to take, ending up with a pretty good degree. 
while in college, she picked up a few extra language courses, weighing her options of maybe exploring the world: korean, english and the tiniest bit of chinese. she knew that maybe working abroad would be a problem as getting into law enforcement as a foreigner wouldn’t be exactly easy. 
still, the thrill was there and fuyuko, even when she tried to push the thought aside, kept wondering what would be out there. at first, she only toyed with the idea, researching how her life in korea would be as a nobody. she wouldn’t know anyone, she would have to take her life into her own hands and actually try to survive. 
she wasn’t able to get rid of the temptation, and decided to pack up her things and move. her parents weren’t extremely happy about the fact, but if other people could do it, so why not her?
after she had found a nice apartment after staying in a hostel for about two weeks, fuyuko couldn’t have been happier – finally a place for herself and her new life. and !!! the day she moved in, she encountered sweet takahiro, a ginger cat roaming the alleys looking a bit hungry, deciding to keep him; together they could fight the loneliness.
at dallyeog.
the next problem fuyuko would encounter would be the question of a job. her idea definitely raised some brows at the employment exchange – but somehow it worked. maybe the paperwork gods were on her side that day. 
just like that, fuyuko was her own agency, her own boss. a private detective. it was the thought that had been rummaging through her head for a few months now, however she had never thought that it would become reality. 
now, just because it was written on paper, didn’t mean that it would work out. it took a few weeks and lots of calls – back and forth, discrete advertising and finally she got something, her first case !!! 
the first case: the woman seemed rather unbothered, however she still wanted to find out if her husband was cheating or not. she had mentioned lots of money being involved and her just knowing that the dearest husband was up to no good. fuyuko had no problem stalking the man, documenting his every step and providing the wife with more than enough information – after all, fuyuko had an endless amount of patience, her work was driving her and she just needed to find out the truth. and the pay was good. 
she now lives a bit more peacefully, knowing that her dreams had worked themselves out and that she has a rather stable income and a reason to stay. 
characteristics. 
fuyuko isn’t afraid of taking risks, however most of the time she is a rather calm person. in general, she has a positive view on things and is self-assured. 
she is candid and honest and will always prefer to be straight-forward with others even if her words could hurt the other’s feelings – so some might find her too blunt, some might think her honesty is a fresh breath of air. 
fuyuko has an independent soul and usually doesn’t like being told how to live: she knows what’s best for herself and will always do whatever she feels like doing. 
it is easy for her to read other’s emotions and body-language, often noticing if anything is off rather quickly.
what she can’t stand are selfish people and she doesn’t tolerate much bullshit as she can usually tell whenever she is getting herself into a useless / waste-of-time-type situation. 
it is rather fun to be around fuyuko as she can be spontaneous and will always try to cheer the other person up whenever she can. random dates and day trips are always on the list! 
she will always try to be there for her loved ones when they need her the most – she also doesn’t like to hold grudges and prefers to leave them in the past. 
sometimes she will get herself into trouble as she can be relentless and daring, often not caring in what kind of dangerous situation she is getting into. 
wanted connections.
guidance: the first friend fuyuko made when she came to dallyeog – someone who showed her around seoul and made her feel more comfortable. 
drinking buddies: someone who comes around after work and they just have a good old bottle of soju together while ranting about life and maybe gossiping about others !
new friends: someone she just met but they immediately clicked and now can’t stop hanging out with each other. 
a job: maybe your muse needs to find something out and fuyuko can definitely help them out – with a big friendship discount, of course. 
night drives: sitting around for hours in a car isn’t too strange for fuyuko, however having company while driving through the city at night while talking about anything and everything would be way better. 
the fall: maybe while trying to peek through a window or something, fuyuko falls and twists an ankle ( or worse ) and isn’t able to move around much. your muse volunteers to take care of her for the time being. 
romantic connections: don’t hold back ladies wink wonk... no i’m serious anything would be nice (??)
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MASTERLIST
Updated Jul. 22, 2020
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EVERYTHING IS ALSO POSTED ON AO3
SFW
DUTCH VAN DER LINDE X F!READER
Around the Campfire: Back from a job, Dutch allows himself to show his soft side - 295 words
ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER
Pride and Joy:  You find yourself in a sticky situation after escaping your abusive husband. You think that might be the end - but a mysterious man comes to your help. - 6.8k words Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - DRABBLE
Second Chance:  Arthur never would have thought he'd get a second chance at everything he doesn't deserve. - 786 words
Someone to Lose:  Jobs can go wrong, and you know too well that everything you know and everyone you love can be ripped from you at any moment - 2.4k words
Touch:  Headcanons for a touch-starved Arthur - 2.5k words Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 (SPOILERS)
A Song and A Dance:  Arthur knows he shouldn't be jealous - but watching Dutch hold you so close, he truly can't help it - 1.3k words
An Impossible Future:  Neither you nor Arthur thought you'd make it this far - and yet, here you are. - 1k words (SPOILERS)
Nightmares & Dreams:  You and Arthur get an unexpected visitor in the night - 857 words (SLIGHT SPOILERS)
Sick: Arthur takes care of you - 708 words
“I just really miss talking to you”: Arthur tries to win you back one last time. - 425 words (SPOILERS)
“You’re in love with her”:  Hosea always notices more than anyone would think. - 586 words
“Close the door”: You have something to admit to Arthur. - 743 words (SLIGHT SPOILERS)
“You make me want things I can’t have”:  Arthur makes a hard decision. - 486 words
“People are staring”:  You accompany Arthur to the Mayor's party. - 177 words
Letting Go: You and Arthur have a hard conversation - 900 words (SPOILERS)
Thick as Thieves:  You meet an unlikely ally at the Mayor's party, and decide to work together. - 2.2k words (SPOILERS)
ARTHUR MORGAN X READER (gender-neutral)
Unrequited:  Hosea has some insight on Arthur to share. - 1.2k words (SPOILERS)
Tutoring:  There is a gap in your education. - 482 words
Left Behind: You get left behind on a job gone wrong -  837 words (headcanons)
Warmth:  The nights are cold in Colter. - 1.4k words
“Do you regret it?”: Arthur questions the path the both of you have taken - 442 words (SPOILERS)
In Sickness and in Health:  You’re sick, and there’s nothing Arthur can do to help you Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 (SPOILERS)
Sketch: Arthur catches you drawing him - 692 words (headcanons)
Goodbye:  The end - 797 words (HUGE FUCKIN’ SPOILERS)
Debt Collecting:  Arthur hates collecting debts - and lets his anger get the better of him. - 1.5k words
Musician: Headcanons for Arthur with a musician SO - 515 words
Leaving: You decide to leave before it’s too late - 831 words (headcanons)  (SPOILERS)
Unmoved: You wonder if the past will ever stop haunting you - 660 words
After the Storm: Sometimes, all you need is a friendly shoulder to lean on - 1.3k words
What Tomorrow Might Bring:  An impromptu rainstorm has Arthur realising a few things. - 767 words
All in Good Fun:  Sean pulls a prank, Arthur is furious, and it never gets old. - 873 words
OTHERS
Hand to Hand:  Charles teaches Kieran how to fight with his fists (or tries, at least) - 537 words
They’re Hanging me Tonight:  It's the noose for me - and that's the way it should be. - 607 words (SPOILERS)
“You make me want things I can’t have”:  John learns exactly what Arthur doesn't like about him - 427 words
After All They’ve Done To Us (WIP): Agent Ross has one last monster for John to hunt Parts: 1 - 2 (SPOILERS)
Longed for and Lost: How Arthur found and lost all that he’d ever wanted Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Epilogue (SPOILERS)
Trouble: Trouble follows Sean like a shadow - and Arthur somehow always finds himself in the middle of it. -  587 words (SLIGHT SPOILERS)
In Better Times: Sadie and Arthur go back to where it all began. - 1.2k words
NSFW
ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER
A Lovely Night in Valentine:  When you don't return before sunset, as you had said you would, Arthur goes looking for you - 2.9k words
A Piece of Heaven:  Arthur and his wife take a well-deserved moment for themselves in Horseshoe Overlook - 2.1k words
All That You Are:  Sometimes, Arthur just needs to let someone else take the reins. - 1.8k words
Just Reward:  Arthur needs to learn to accept kindness from others. - 1.8k words
Coming Back Around:  In which Bill Williamson is a goddamn fool, and Arthur needs to blow off some steam - 1.7k words
Beginnings: You and Arthur decide to start trying for a family - 716 words
Out of Patience:  Arthur has had enough, and puts you in your place. - 2.2k words
Dawn:  You wake up before Arthur, for once - and decide to wake him up your own way - 984 words
After Years and Years:  It's not often that one gets a second chance at something that should have been. A chance meeting with someone you had never thought to see again gives you just that - 5.2k words Parts: 1 - 2 (BIG SPOILERS Y’ALL)
“We have to be quiet”:   You and Arthur slip away during an evening at the saloon. - 391 words
Welcome Home:  Arthur returns from a week-long trip, and shows you just how much he's missed you. - 1k words
Tight Quarters:  Arthur finds a good hiding place, but it's a bit tight for two. - 2.7k words Parts: 1 - 2 
On Escaping A Relentless Suitor:  When an opportunity to escape Sean's flirting presents itself, you jump at the chance. Arthur is more than happy to help you. - 3k words (SLIGHT SPOILERS)
A Quiet Morning: Arthur says it’s too early to get up - and, you know what? He’s right. - 1.8k words (SPOILERS)
Kingdom Come: Arthur asks you for your opinion on having more children. Actions speak louder than words. - 2.6k words
The Good Times:  They say competitiveness brings out the worst in people. Apparently, that’s not always true. - 3.3k words
What Will Be Left Behind:  Robbing the Saint Denis bank will be dangerous - why wouldn’t it be? You know that, but you can’t help being nervous. Arthur tries to help. (SPOILERS)
The Long Way Back Home:  You convince Arthur to take a well-earned rest after his return from Guarma. - 4.8k words (SPOILERS)
ARTHUR MORGAN X READER (gender-neutral)
A Heartfelt Favour:   Arthur lets you take care of him, for once.- 992 words
Sweet:  You'd made quite a sight with that lollipop in your mouth - a sight that Arthur can't quite seem to be able to forget.
Cut Short:  Arthur hasn't been with anyone in a while. - 447 words
OTHERS
Missing Him: He’s been gone too long (Arthur, Dutch & Charles X gender-neutral reader) 
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tiredlittleoldme · 5 years
Text
Athena Jones, Part 2
Part 1 here
There’s a red-haired green-eyed siren swimming near us in the clear water of the ocean and it takes all my willpower not to stare at her. Alas I fail. Miserably.
As lying to sirens is apparently impossible, they luckily believed me when I had told them that I had never seen my crew members act badly towards women and when I explained my story and series of misadventures before the ship had rescued me.
After a short time spent waiting, anxious and agitated, the siren who seemed to be in charge told us that we could leave.
A small boat was provided to us and although it seemed to resemble more of a half-sunken raft, we weren’t going to complain. The most exhausted of the crew took a seat in the middle of the skiff while the others paddled forward using their arms or large planks of wood. The enchanting creature (named Khayla, as I recalled) served as our guide back to the Blue Ribbon, which, according to her, had drifted only a couple of miles north.
I look over at Tyro who seems to be as taken with her as I am. We exchange a quick glance and a smile before taking a deep breath and refocusing on our tasks.
It takes us two hours of restless paddling before we finally catch a glimpse of the Blue Ribbon. Khayla stays with us a little longer, smiling and laughing on occasion before eventually turning back, her scales glistening brightly in the sun as she swims home. I can’t help but sigh again. Thankfully, the sound of the waves around us is loud enough to make my exaltations go unnoticed, especially since Matt, aboard the ship, starts to call on us, signaling and yelling. We laugh, smile and wave back at him. The captain shouts orders at everyone and we begin to paddle faster, sweating and panting, but anxious to go back to the Blue Ribbon.
Five minutes or so later, Matt tosses us a rope ladder and soon enough, we’re finally back on board. The captain doesn’t give us time to celebrate or to update Matt on the events that had just occured. The ship had been hit hard by the storm and as the damage was extensive, a full repair would take some time. We quickly tend to the most crucial repairs and shortly after, begin to sail away, far from the Sirens’ Island and my sudden realization.
It is only later on, when the sun had begin to set that I allow myself some time to assess the situation.
So. I’m gay. That’s a surprise. Not that I’m scared, or angry, or in denial. I’m just genuinely surprised. I never thought about what I liked or who I liked. For my first twenty or so years, I had lived a sheltered life. I didn’t exactly have any friends (OK, i had one) and although I had received a fairly good education, I never actually believed that I was free to make good use of it. My education was just one step in the process of finding me a husband. I can’t help but feel ashamed when I think back to all of those times I had stayed passive while others made decisions for me.
I was miserable yet did nothing. Mostly because I had never realized I had options. I never thought about rebellion, about leaving. My family knew I was displeased by my situation, yet they did nothing. They did not praise or scold me. They did not care enough to do any of those things. However, in all fairness, I didn’t care about myself either.
It was only later on, aboard this ship, that I had learned my value, or rather, that I understood I had value at all.
If the man my family had intended for me had been kind, good, or simply put, not the huge evil pitiful moron that he had been, I probably wouldn’t have batted an eye.
But he had been awful and cruel and I couldn’t have, I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. I had pleaded with my family, begged, cried, yelled. I had promised anything and everything. They did not listen.
From that point on, I could either cave in like I had done most of my life, or I could finally take a stand. Or rather make a run for it.
In the dead of night, I gathered a few of my belongings that I treasured the most (my favorite book and an ancient locket I had had all of my life) and I stole whatever food I could find. I didn’t dare touch the golden coins that my father kept hidden as I thought this would give my family even more motivation to find me.
At that point, I had never even laid eyes on the ocean  but the promise of the endless blue and the solitude drew me in, especially in that moment. I began to walk south, although I knew the shoreline was far away.
I spent that night running through fields and meadows more scared than I was willing to admit, fearing that I would be caught, fearing that my rather rash decision had been the wrong one.
I did not know, on that scary dreadful night, that not even a month later, I would be safe, with a crew and a ship and a place to lay my head and rest.
Every time I think back to the past, I feel a sense of gratitude so overwhelming that it almost brings me to tears. I breathe deeply as I watch the sunset. The gender of people I had liked never occurred to me because I had never liked anyone.
“Ati !”
The voice of the captain resonates on the quiet ship and I look over at him on the bridge. He gestures for me to come and I do so quickly. He’s not exactly a man known for his patience.
“Take the helm”.
“Where are we going, Captain?”
Glancing at him, I can tell that he’s displeased and I avert my gaze and look straight ahead.
“Tortoise Island. We’ll make repairs there and restock. We lost a lot in that storm. We won’t stay long.”
“And then?”
It takes him a while to respond and I look over, worried. He turns away from me but not before I have time to notice his expression. It was one of fear and determination. I worry about him when he gets like that, we all do. After all, I’m not the only one he had helped on this ship and we would all gladly follow him to the ends of the Earth if he asked us to. Not that he had.
He wants to go back to a place we never even heard of. If fact, no one has, we even asked around. And it wasn’t on any map that we could find. He didn’t describe it to us, nor did he told us when he had been there. He just said that it was a place that was hard to imagine and that he had to go back.
He had never ordered us to follow him. Before we embarked on this trip, before the storm, he had given us our share of gold, saying that he was going on a journey that would be long and treacherous with high risks and poor rewards. We had asked him about where he was going, how long it would take him to get there and what he would find.
Then, Tyro asked the only question that really mattered: Would our presence make him safer? We all pressed him on this even though we were usually a very obedient crew and the captain had no choice but to tell us the truth: He would be safer with us. We immediately relinquished our share of the gold back into the collective chest and swore to stay with him wherever he would choose to sail. He nodded and thanked us somewhat solemnly and we spoke of the matter no further.
He was and would always be our captain.
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jamiebluewind · 5 years
Text
A Story On Life and Death and Funerals
Yall ever have the conversation with someone? The one when you admit outloud what you would want done when you die? I did. More than once to a variety of people. The reason I'm bringing it up is that I had a bit of a reminder today as to why it's important.
Today I was in therapy. This was only my second visit with her since I moved here, so we are still covering a lot of the basics. The subject got on my mamaw (southen word for grandmother). The woman who I had thought of as a mother and often introduced me as her youngest daughter or her baby. She live next door to me most of my childhood and I practically lived at her house. I loved her. So very much. The only person who liked me as I was. She put aside time every day to work on spelling and reading with me. In fact, all her hard work and patience with me is part of the reason it took so long for anyone to realize that the girl with some of the highest grades in class had dyslexia and minor dyscalcula (near perfect scores every test and assessment, but flunked pop quizes)! It turned out she had it herself, recognized it in me, and knew that getting frustrated and giving up would only make things harder when what I truly needed was to read every day. She taught me how to bake tea cakes and play with recipes. To always be kind to others, unless they gave you a reason not to and then you give um hell! To be myself (as long as it doesn't hurt you or anybody else), even if other people think it's weird. She was a white Christian woman from the deep south who played basketball with boys back in the 1930s and 1940s, got an education, built bombs during the war, was the first woman in her (very large) family to get a driver's license and own her own car, made more money than her husband (they were far from rich, but they worked hard, managed their money, and used their skills to make their lives better than people with twice as much) and would shut him down when he tried to control the house or what she did, built a picnic table in her own yard to feed the hobos (homeless people who road the trains) when she could afford it, had black friends who she would invite over to share a homecooked meal while segregation was still in full swing, made sure that their dogs always ate and were cared for, sewed simple shorts and tank tops using fabric scraps to give to neighborhood kids to play in, would skip church if someone was sick or just needed her help, ripped her brother-in-law a new one in the late 70s/early 80s when he tried to disown her nephew for coming out as gay (it didn't matter who he loved, he was still his son) and then stormed off to go comfort the boy, sang in a quartet and played piano and guitar, gardened most of her life (a huge vegetable garden with her family and a plot of various flowers, despite people calling them pointless), and on and on. A thousand things big and small that got her called weird (and worse). This woman who taught me so much through words and actions and never forgot my birthday (she made me a strawberry cake every year and when she got to old to bake she bought one and when she couldn't get out to do that, she got me a strawberry snackcake somehow) even when everybody else did... she was the best thing in my life for a long long time.
But I was "just" a grandkid. Despite all our history. Just a grandkid. Despite the fact that when she had a stroke when I was a teenager (15 or 16 I think?), I was the one who fought to keep her out of a nursing home and stayed with her 24/6 with no help for two months (caring for her, doing physical therapy with her, and crashing and sleeping the whole day somebody took over for me) and 3 to 4 days a week for months after that (she got an aid that came by a few hours in the mornings during the week to help out and two of her kids started taking one to three days a week each) until she recovered enough to live in her own home for years, dying in a retirement home 12 or 13 years later. Despite her and I having a long conversation about what we both wanted to happen after we died. Just. A. Grandkid. She got the funeral they wanted. I wasn't included in the talks or even allowed to tell them what she told to me. They didn't even let me give them her favorite socks (knee high fuzzy striped socks that made her laugh because she thought they made her look like the wicked witch) to put in her casket.
The funeral has lots of cut flowers instead a few simple ones. It lasted nearly 3 hours (Southern Baptist and the time does not count the viewing) with an introduction, a group that sang hymns at multiple intervals (including one longer set), multiple group prayers, a group hymn, two in church sermons, the church presenting a gift to the family, and a graveside sermon (no drive as the grave was beside the church) instead of something that was under an hour (because some people have bad backs, some people are old, kids get figity, and it's already hard enough on the family). They focused heavily on religion and how godly she was (even saying she put god first and family second which would have made her roll over in her grave) and gave the family a Bible with her name on it (as the family suggested despite her skipping church as much as her daugher would let her the last 3 years because it exhausted her too much). Her grandson-in-law gave the second sermon and after more talk of how religious she was and how closely she followed the Bible (the same woman that was proud of me for arguing with the preacher on bible logic when I was little, supported her gay nephew, and said it was fine for a couple who made each other happy to live together because there were more important things in life than a piece of paper), he inserted the only story told about her life which was bits and pieces about when she built the table for the homeless men (a story he heard from me) as an example of what a godly woman she was, with added embelishments, alterations, omitions, and a big part about her being called to do it by god (she did it in part because her husband was a hobo for a short time years before they met, part because nobody else would do it, and part out of pure spit for saying she couldn't). She wanted something that focused on her life and her family with a prayer and a couple songs mixed in and a few words from the preacher to comfort those left and hurting. A big potluck before or after the funeral for people to just talk and laugh and comfort each other.
But the truth is, I don't know everything she would have wanted. I don't know what might have changed in the ~5 years since we had talked about it, how well the memory aged for me, or if my memory was clouded by my own biases. I know she picked out a dress and told her daughter, but not me. I know there is probably more.
Then I started thinking about what I had said to her that night on the couch when we talked about what we would want to happen after we died. That me from just a decade ago is not the me today. Some of the things I wanted are the same. Some have changed. Some are things I would actually NOT want to happen at all! So maybe, just maybe, a version of my mamaw wanted that funeral at some point. Perhaps she told her kids years ago, before her stroke (which took the dexterity in her dominant hand and gave her a strong slur, making it hard for people to understanding her words or have the patience to wait for them). Maybe that's the real reason why it all played out like it did. But they don't know. And I don't know. And everybody has hurt feelings over it.
So, tonight I mentioned what I wanted when I died to my best friend because it was on my mind. I went about my day and my evening, but as I was getting ready for bed, I realized something. I had made the same mistake. I have people who know what past me wanted, know what current me wants, and think they know what current me would want, but none of them are exactly right or completely wrong or even know all the information. It's not all in one place and memories can fade with time.
So think about what you want to happen instead of placing it all on your grieving family and the mourner's version of a used car saleman. Open up a dialogue. And most importantly, create a living will (so family won't have to guess for end of life care) and share copies of it with your doctor and family (updating as needed such as if you move to a different state or your wishes change) and have your wishes (for what you want to happen after you die) in writing on a seperate thing from your will (which is often not located and read until most of the decisions have already been made), share copies with relevant people (or look into services that will give it to them after your death or email copies to a list of people), keep a copy in a folder with other important documents (like your living will, last will and testameny, titles, mortgage papers, and such), and make sure to check it (a reminder can help) every so often (once a year or once ever ten years, as long as you do it) to make sure nothing has changed, needs to be added, or no longer applies. An expression of funeral wishes is not legally binding (like a relative I knew that wanted one that would have left two well stocked small flower shops practically empty), but they are better than having nothing and your grieving family fighting over guesswork.
So... yeah. Don't be afraid to do it or worried about what it means or feel like it's too depressing to think about. Better you than them.
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jadeargents · 5 years
Text
ig live — getting ready with me.
Checking if she was live, Jade smiled towards the camera as she raised her hand for a moment. “Hi everyone. Sorry for not announcing this live beforehand, but I didn’t know I was doing this until like five minutes ago. I’m getting ready to go out and I thought it would be a good idea to talk with you and answer some questions while I’m doing that.” She looked through her make up bag, taking only a moment of searching before she found the foundation. “I’ve already applied the primer, I’m gonna do foundation now. You can go ahead and ask anything you wanna know, as long as it’s not too personal.”
“How are you?” She read, a smile appearing on her features. “That’s nice of you to ask that first. I’m great, honestly. Living my best life. I’m writing a lot of songs, spending time with some of my favorite people, being on tour and singing my music... can’t imagine a better life right now.” Looking in the mirror she began applying the foundation, though she paused immediately after. “Disclaimer, I’m not a make up artist. I don’t know if I’m doing this the right way, I’m just mirroring what I’ve seen my own make up artist do.” Continuing, she didn’t say anything else until she finished the coverage. 
“Moving onto concealer now,” she stated as she opened the liquid concealer and applied a few lines under her eyes. She then turned towards her phone to read the next question. “What songs have I been obsessed with lately? Hold on.” Grabbing her computer, she opened her most recent Spotify playlist. “Bloodline by Denise is my fucking jam, she’s incredible. The entire album is great, honestly. Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me by Luana is also a favorite.” Seeing some of Julian’s songs on there, she decided it was time to close the playlist. She had given them enough reasons to believe they’re together without saying one of her favorite songs is a song that was written about her. “There’s a lot of them I like. I can make a playlist if you guys are interested.” She finished dabbing the concealer then moved onto the next question.  
“Have I written a song with anyone lately?” Choosing a light pink blush for her next move, she selected the right brush from her set and lightly applied the make up over her cheekbones at the same time as she replied. “I’ve written a song with Ofelia, and another one with Chasity and they’ll both be released eventually, in case you’re wondering.” She didn’t mention the other person she’s been writing songs with, since she knew they wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the live if she did. 
“Twitter or Instagram?” An uncomfortable smile appeared on her lips. “You don’t want my answer to that, I’m going to be mean.” Closing her blush, she looked towards the camera. “In all honesty, I prefer actual human interaction. Social media is great for interacting with fans, but it’s not my favorite. That’s why I’ve been distancing myself from Twitter lately. I’ve just found I feel much better when I prioritize spending time with people and limit the time I spend on my phone. If there’s a piece of advice you should take from me, it’s that one.”
Grabbing her highlighter, she looked towards her phone again to read the next question before focusing on the makeup. “Would I accept acting in a film?” Jade shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not sure. Depends if the film meant a lot to me. I would definitely have to take some acting classes before that, but why not?” She stopped applying her highlighter, setting down her brush for a moment. “Though I have to point out I wouldn’t push my singing career aside. Music is the priority, no matter what else is there.” Once she finished with that step, she chose a palette of gold tones and continued with the eyeshadow. 
“What do I think about what headlines are saying about me?” She huffed, shaking her head subtly. She was staring in the mirror as she applied her eyeshadow, but that didn’t last long because she couldn’t prevent herself from staring at the camera as she voiced her thoughts. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. You can quote me on that. I’m living my life and I’m being myself, and if that bothers anyone, it’s not my problem. I’m happy where I am right now and I’m not going to let anything ruin that for me.”
Reading the comments she received after her statement, her hand instinctively went to her chest, showcasing a mix of emotions on her expression. “I’m truly touched by your support, guys.” A smile appeared on her lips as she went back to adding the finishing touches to her eyeshadow. “Though I have to say you’re making me laugh with your reactions to me saying I’m happy. I didn’t think that was possible either, but what do you know? Maybe life doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me after all. Maybe I should’ve just been more patient, but well, I trust that everything happens for a reason. I’m thankful for the state of mind I’m in right now, and that’s all that counts.”
“Where’s Julian? How would I know?” A chuckle left her lips, as she began applying her eyeliner. “I don’t track him. That’s not a healthy…” she stopped, looking straight at the camera with an amused smile, “… friendship.” She continued tracing her eyeliner as if she hadn’t said anything out of common, that made the comments on her phone suddenly increase. She didn’t say anything as she waited for them to calm down, so she could go back to answering questions.
“What’s the last movie I’ve seen?” She stopped for a moment, looking towards the ceiling as she was thinking. A smile appeared on her lips as she remembered. “Funny enough, it was with Julian. We watched “The Nun” at an open air cinema event in London.” Jade read the comments, a disbelieving smile on her lips, then responded to them as she put on mascara. “Bold of you guys to assume I need someone to hold me during horror movies. I’m not afraid of them. Or anything for that matter. I’m pretty much fearless.” Except emotions, but she wouldn’t mention that. She wouldn’t tell them that she did spend that night in Julian’s arms, not because she was afraid, but because she liked being close to him.
Applying red lipstick, she then looked towards her comments. A huff left her lips as her eyes read the question. They were unbelievable. “Am I meeting Julian? Yes, I am,” she said, “I am also meeting Luana and Chasity, that doesn’t change that I’m putting on make up for myself, not for him, or anyone else I’m seeing today.” She sighed, putting her make up bag aside to look straight at the camera. “I think we’ve covered enough the subject that women do not dress or put on make up for men for you to stop insinuating at this point. You can do better.”
“You know, I should have a feminist podcast,” she said, looking through her comments and expecting to see a lot of negativity, yet that wasn’t the case. They were all encouraging and excited which kind of made her feel bad for getting their hopes up. “That was a joke. Sorry, I would, but I literally don’t know how that would fit into my schedule,” she responded, shaking her head softly with an apologetic smile. “Besides, I think I’d get too frustrated with the issues discussed and that’s not an advantage when the purpose is getting educated. You should be taught about feminism from someone who has patience, meanwhile I’m gonna keep ranting about these problems on Instagram and Twitter.” She ended her explanation with a smile, feeling much more calm when explaining herself.  
“What’s my favorite shade of lipstick? The one I’m wearing right now, actually.” Inspecting what the label was saying, she then approached the lipstick to the camera. “It’s the Fenty Beauty Mattemoiselle Plush Matte Lipstick, in the shade of Royal Red, called Madamn.” 
She removed the accessory that was holding most of her hair back. “What do I have planned for the future career wise?” She smiled as she began styling strands of her hair into waves. “I’m glad you specified what future you mean, because personal life future, I couldn’t have told you.” Realizing what she just said, she closed her eyes for a second, breathing in. She should be more careful with the way she worded things. “Because I don’t know what the future has reserved for me in that aspect, not because there’s a particular event that would happen in the future.” The last thing she needed was people sending videos of her to Julian asking him if he proposed or asking him when they were getting married. “Anyway, back to the question. I can’t tell too much, but I’m preparing for the European leg for All The Stars World Tour as you know. I’m also writing a lot, and I’ve already filmed the first two music videos for the fourth album. I can’t reveal anything about the release date right now, but you know, I’ll keep you posted.”
Once she finished with the hair, she attached it in a way that it wasn’t standing in her face, but still was cascading down her back. “Last question,” she announced as she looked through the comments until she found a good one. “What was my favorite concert I’ve performed during this tour?” There was no hesitation there, a genuine smile appearing on her lips. “New York City.” There was no doubt why. Julian was at her concert that night, and having him backstage when they hadn’t seen each other in more than a month made her feel so happy. However, she needed to divert the fans’ attention from that. “New York is one of my favorite cities, and the energy there is just incredible.” She wasn’t lying, but there were other cities where she performed that were memorable too — New York stood out because of her significant other being there. She smiled as she thought about how in love she was. It wasn’t getting less surreal with time. 
“Thanks for keeping me company as I was getting ready. I’ll keep you updated on my outfit later when I’ll post a photo. Hope the rest of your day will be good. Take care.”
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caffeinestudyingg · 6 years
Text
Updated About Me
I did this tag when I was a junior in high school and considering it has been about three years I thought I’d do a bit of an update.... not that anyone asked ha! 
What year are you? College Sophomore 
If applicable, what is your thesis about? N/A
Do you think you picked the right major? I really hope so, I just made some changes so we might find out in the spring.
Ultimate educational goals? Probably get my masters and return as a professor or lesson instructor in schools.
Career goals? Teacher, Professor, Lesson instructor, Pianist... really anything that lets me use my degrees and feel fulfilled?
Do you think your goals are realistic? These might be but only time will tell.
What classes are you taking right now? Oh boy here comes a long list: Music Theory III, Aural Skills III, Women in Classical Music History, University Singers Choir, Women’s Choir, Disney Lyric Choir, Schola Chamber Choir, Piano Lessons, Philosophy, Theatre History, and Theatrical Design.
Favorite class out of everything you’ve ever taken and why? Maybe AP Music Theory in high school because my teacher was so spectacular or Aural Skills in college because our class dynamic is laughable
Least favorite class ever and why? The 8 am history course I took first semester because it was way too early to learn that much about Europe in the early 1400s.
Current favorite class and why? None of these have started yet but I am very much looking forward to getting back into my piano lessons!
Current least favorite class and why? I am not entirely looking forward to Philosophy because it is going to take more prep and thought than courses I take for my majors.
2. What’s your major/what do you think you want to major in? Theatre Major and Piano Pedagogy and Accompanying Major
Favorite STEM field? Psychology
Favorite humanities subject? Music Theory
Class that you’ve always wanted to take but never had the chance? Band and orchestra ensembles if those count count.
Do you use caffeine and if so how much daily? I am a straight up caffeine addict so anywhere between six to seven cups of coffee or three-ish energy drinks.
What’s your preferred method of taking in caffeine? Ideally, hot black coffee but there is nowhere on campus that sells good coffee so I tend towards zero calorie Monster energy drinks.
Have you ever tried study drugs? nope
Are you a homework-in-the-morning kind of person? I live for waiting until the last minute to get things done.
Do you listen to music while you study? I find it almost impossible to focus when I do but that doesn't stop me some days.
Crowded area or quiet place? Crowded spaces! Libraries and coffee shops are my go to’s.
What’s your preferred writing instrument? Pencil and paper
Do you need to work out before you can study well? nope
Describe your perfect study environment. Still standing by a low-key coffee shop with a small study group and plenty of caffeinated beverages.
Are you procrastinating right now? I most definitely am.
What was the last thing you procrastinated? My directing final scene was written, edited, designed, cast, and rehearsed four hours before it was performed.
Are you a perfectionist? surprisingly, yes.
Do you like easy classes or do you feel bad if you’re not working hard? I love classes that don't stress me out but I can't stand paying for classes that I already know the information for.
Are you a good test taker? absolutely not.
What are you the proudest of out of all the assignments you’ve ever had? My memory piece from my piano jury this past semester. I worked really hard on it and that process was the final piece that pushed me to changing my major.
Do you talk to your teachers/professors a lot? I talk to my professors incessantly! I sometimes forget that we can't actually be friends but that doesn't stop me from eating lunch with them and chatting during office hours if they aren't busy.
Describe your favorite teacher/professor and why you like them. I most assuredly cannot pick only one so I shall describe the three best professors I had this past year:
Piano instructor- even though I wasn't always the most prepared or the strongest player she taught there was never a second that I felt less than or like I wasn't valued. She is also an absolutely brilliant pianist and I couldn’t be more lucky to be learning from her. I am wildly excited about being a piano major these days.
Horn instructor/Aural skills professor- The patience this professor has with me is unbelievable! She is so ready to drag me at any given moment and honestly, I live for it. She is excellent at giving advice when needed and genuinely such a wonderful person and performer. The entire music department is in agreement that she is the collective mother over all of us and we would simply fall apart without her.
Director/Directing professor- This man has put up with so much of my shit oh my goodness. Not only is he incredibly smart and a great professor, he puts up the best shows. He has worked so hard to help me this past year from helping me write papers, driving me across campus after rehearsals, to buying me caffeine when I was going through withdrawals. He is a true gift to our department.
Describe your least favorite teacher/professor and why you dislike them. I don't think that I can come up with a professor that I genuinely and wholly dislike without coming up with something redeemable so...
Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher/professor? more and more everyday.
Most profound thing ever said to you by a teacher/professor? You will never be able to know where life is going to take you so you have to do what feels like the best choice and just keep making the best choices as time goes on. Life will become what it becomes and we have to be able to make something positive out of that.
Best feedback you’ve ever gotten on something academic? Being told by my directing professor that I write “excellent” play analyses.
Worst study habit and how are you working on it? Procrastinating- I don't think I am currently doing too much to fix that... even though I need to.
Are you an in-class fidgeter? forever and always.
How’s your handwriting? small, messy, almost cursive.
Neat or messy notes? Messy
A lot of notes or the bare minimum? definitely depends on the class and how interested I am that day.
Are you a doodler? Nope
Do you have pre-test rituals and what are they? Stressing in the lobby with the other students destined to freak out.
Are you a tangent-question asker? oh absolutely.
Do you make jokes in class? Every single chance that I get.
How many hours do you spend on academics per day? Not enough! Though I tend to be on campus in classes and rehearsals from about 9 am to somewhere around 10:30 pm. Sometimes I just don't have time to sit down and formally study.
What’s something more important to you than school? My mental well being most days.
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liminal (chapter two)
Summary: Between death and dying, Jyn learns about herself and her family.
Author’s Note: A massive thanks to my wonderful beta, @rapidashpatronus, who was her usual mix of supportive and providing awesome suggestions for improvement. In case anyone is looking for the first chapter, it can be found here on tumblr or here on AO3! Yavemiel
This chapter can also be read here on AO3.
Jyn both loved and dreaded the times Cassian came to visit.
She missed him like a physical ache that never went away, dulled while he was sat in the room, but so sharp when he left that she was always surprised her heart didn’t skip a beat.
He looked, to her eyes, wearier than ever. There was never a hint of it in his voice as he sat and gently told her about his day, but particularly when he was alone in the room, he let his guard down, shoulders slumped and his eyes fixed on her face telling her exactly how guilty he felt that it was her and not him in the pod.
She oscillated between the desire to comfort him and the desire to rail at him, tell him he had no right to feel guilty when he would (has) done the same for her.
Despite the mixed emotions, she looked forward to his visits most: when he was there, he barely left the room, not even to eat or shower, and Jyn felt the comfort of company for days at a time.
The downside was that as Rebel Intelligence’s most sought after asset, he couldn’t just...not go on missions because one of his team was out of action. The war went on after all.
In his absences (often overlapping with Kay’s), the members of the team left behind would tell Jyn every time he made contact, a courtesy she was profoundly grateful for.
He always came back from his missions slightly gaunt, eyes a little haunted and Jyn cursed the invisible barrier between them. The first few hours after he came back were always the hardest. His voice rough, he seemed incapable of keeping up the gentle chatter which usually accompanied his visits.
Instead, he read to her.
Jyn had never been much for reading. When she was younger, she had always wanted to be out playing and doing and then Saw had little patience for frivolities such as education (that was unrelated to war) or downtime, so she had never picked up the habit.
Cassian, it turned out, was an avid reader, who had thousands of stories tucked away on his datapad and Jyn was enchanted by this previously unseen facet of him.
He read her what he called ‘The Classics’, stories about a man stranded on a planet far from home after a war and his trials travelling to his homeworld. He read her lighter stories, fairytales about true love and ridiculous murder mysteries in which she became ridiculously engaged.
Once, he read her poetry in his native language. She could only pick out a few words here and there, beginner that she was, but she loved the way his voice lilted and curled around the words that were clearly so dear to him. She vowed that when she woke up, she would put more effort into learning Festian, just to see Cassian’s eyes light up.
So it went for months. Jyn watched her lifesigns grow almost imperceptibly stronger, watched medics come in and take readings and tell her team ‘Not yet...soon’, watched Cassian come and go and come and go.
And then he didn’t come back.
He had told her about the mission before he left, a ‘standard job, in and out, I’ll only be a week...ten days at most.’
But a week came and went, and then another and her team’s faces were more pinched as they came to her and said ‘No word from Cassian yet...soon, I’m sure he’ll get in contact soon’, and Jyn raged at her weak body, lying there and preventing her from doing something. Anything.
And then finally, finally it came. Bodhi came dashing in to her room, limbs flailing and speech even more stilted and stutter-filled than usual, but Jyn got the jist: Cassian was back, not unhurt, but alive. She was so caught up in her relief she missed the slight blip on her heart monitor.
**
It was almost two days before Cassian came to see her, much longer than he usually delayed after a mission, but she knew from the frequent updates from the rest of her team that it wasn’t for lack of trying, the medics utterly forbade it and he was too weak for a jailbreak.
On the evening of the second day, the door to Jyn’s room opened and her heart soared to see Cassian there, even as it ached for the pain she could see etched on his face as Kay helped him into the chair beside Jyn’s medpod.
There was silence broken only by Cassian’s laboured breathing before Kay straightened abruptly and said “I shall leave the two of you alone”, and clanked out of the room.
Then there was silence for so long that Jyn might have thought Cassian was asleep if she hadn’t been able to see his eyes, fixed on her face inside the pod. Eventually he stretched out a hand and put it on the pod near her hand. He took a deep, hitching breath and blew it out in a sigh before speaking.
“This was a bad one, Jyn.”
She knew instinctively that he wasn’t talking about his physical injuries. He was quiet for another while, visibly gathering his thoughts before he opened his mouth and began to tell her a tale of a mission gone wrong: vanishing contacts who turned out to be colluding with tempire, imaginary supplies used a lure to bait a trap for a spy.
He told her about the troopers waiting for him at the end of an alley, his gut instinct the only thing that saved him as he dived under a blaster bolt meant for his head. He told her about the firefight that followed, how he felt a gaping absence at his back (and she could almost feel her truncheons slide into her hands), and his voice hitched again as he told her about the collateral damage in his escape: civilians hurt (killed) by a grenade he threw at the troopers, a freighter blasted out of the sky by TIE fighters as he frantically piloted to his freedom.
She could see the torment the innocent lives lost caused him and she longed as never before to wrap him in her arms, press kisses to his hairline and murmur words of love and scant comfort.
He moved closer to her and rested his forehead against her medpod, eyes closed, and if she hadn’t been in the air around him she wouldn’t have heard his soft murmur. “Ay, cómo te extraño, mi luz.”
He opened his eyes and she could see the sheen of tears, though she wasn’t sure he’d ever let them fall.
“My world is so dark without you, Jyn. You’re so bright, you light up everything, but without you, everything is grey, almost back to the way it was before we met, but I’ve seen the light now, and I can’t go back. The team, they help, but we’re missing the thing that keeps us held together, and…”
He trailed off and blew out his breath, tapping his forehead gently against the glass. “Jyn, if you can hear me, please, please come back. You have to come back.”
‘I’m trying’, she thought desperately.
**
The next week was excruciatingly long.
In some ways, it was positive. Not long after Cassian’s plea, the medteam in charge of her treatment announced that she was stable enough to be taken off life support and be brought out of the induced coma.
She watched in fascination as the upper cover of the pod was removed and various wires and tubes which had been discreetly connected to her body were gradually taken away too.
And then...she waited.
The trembling hope she’d seen on Cassian’s face as he took her hand for the first time in months gave way to worried frustration for both of them as her breathing remained even and her eyes remained stubbornly closed day after day. The medteam assured him (them) that it was all normal, that Jyn had moved from the induced coma to natural sleep and would wake up when she was ready, and all the while Jyn chafed impatiently at the invisible bonds keeping her away from her body.
She was never left alone, her team afraid that she would wake disoriented with no-one close by. Cassian was a near-constant presence, alone or accompanied, unless his own medteam came and commandeered him for tests and treatments of his own.
Almost ten days after she had officially been taken off life support, Cassian briefly absent, it was just her and Chirrut, the latter sitting in uncharacteristic silence by her bedside, head bowed and his hands clenched tight on his staff.
He looked up suddenly and Jyn recoiled in shock: it seemed as though he was looking directly at her.
“Don’t give up hope, little sister.”
She stared at him in disbelief. He had never given any previous indication that he could sense her presence.
‘Chirrut...can you hear me?’
He didn’t respond, and her heart sank, only to rise as he started speaking again.
“I know you must be frustrated, with a wait as long as this, eager to get back to your friends and family.” He gave a wry smile. “Patience never was your strong suit.”
Jyn barely heard the playful insult, so focused was she on his first words. Friends and family?
Chirrut grew serious again. “Hope though...I have never before met someone with your hope, Jyn. It is a shining light for anyone who cares to see, a beacon,” he gestured almost mockingly at his own eyes, “even for the blind.”
Jyn was overwhelmed. Months she had been stuck in that pod, plenty of time for her team - no, her family, they had earned that - to abandon her, to drift from her side as life carried them onwards, or to take her passive state as a chance to unburden their frustrations and anger on her, but instead, instead they had remained the one constant in her half-life, a constant source of company and support and love, even when they didn’t know she was there to appreciate it.
Chirrut smiled gently as he leaned back in his chair.
“You’re so close now, little sister. I can feel your presence so strongly, where before it was faint, almost like an aftertaste. It won’t be long now until you’re back with us. You’ll see.”
He fell silent again, and Jyn felt tired suddenly, the room seeming faded and far away for the first time in months, and finally, finally...she fell asleep, content.
**
Jyn opened her eyes and smiled. Her family smiled back.
                                                            fin
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In My Way - Chapter 23
AO3 link, First Chapter
Genre: Chaptered. Actor!Dan AU, fluff, bit of angst, slow burn, getting together (eventually)
Summary: Fiction. Daniel Howell is 21 and Britain’s newest star. He’s just been cast in the much-anticipated film adaption of Last Man Standing, the popular teen fantasy novel with a huge fanbase hanging off his every tweet. In other words, Dan has made it big.
Phil Lester couldn’t care less. He’s a stressed out PHD student working part time at a bookshop while he struggles to get into post-production. He’s 26 and still lives in a tiny flat on the fifth floor of a building with a lift more broken than it is in use. He loves books, but he thinks big film adaptions screw with the plot too much.
Needless to say, Phil is less than impressed when Last Man Standing is getting filmed in his hometown. And he certainly doesn’t want anything to do with obnoxious, arrogant, so irritatingly perfect leading actor   Daniel Howell.
Warnings: Swearing, Ace!Phil, Bi!Dan, slight a- and bi-phobia, discussions of sexuality
Word Count: 5000-6000 per chapter (ish)
A/N: I just wanted to say, before we get going with the chapter, thank you so much for 3000 kudos! That is crazy!! I never expected an ace fic to get this much love. Thank you to everyone who has read so far (and sorry for making you wait so long for this update) but I come bearing good news! I have now finished this fic!
The last chapter will go up on Wednesday, and the epilogue on Friday, and then this fic will be done ^_^ thank you for your patience with me!
Massive thanks to @agingphangirl for helping me out with this chapter, and of course to my lovely beta Meg @mecaka who's going to look this over for me ^_^
---
The week leading up to the premiere was nothing short of hell for Phil.
He started the week by having to head back up to Manchester, leaving Dan behind in London again, and Phil was really, really starting to hate having to say goodbye. Train stations were becoming an all too familiar surrounding, standing there in public staring at Dan longingly, unable to reach out and take him into his arms, having to make do with whispered goodbyes and promises to be back soon.
It was the last time, though, Phil reminded himself. The last time he’d have to make sure not to be publicly affectionate with Dan.
That was such a strange thought. Phil was still blown away sometimes that he even wanted this – for the first time in his life, he wanted to be with someone. The prospect of an actual relationship still terrified him when it reared up in its pure form, but then he just had to remember that it was only Dan, and everything felt ok again.
He would always want to be with Dan, he suspected. Everything was just easier to cope with when Dan was in the same room as him.
When Phil got back to Manchester, it was to an untidy flat that he’d left in a stress-muddled mess, notes for his PhD thrown about everywhere, and no food in his cupboards. Phil cursed his past self who hadn’t bothered to have any foresight past going back down to London and seeing Dan again, which had, of course, been his priority at the time.
It was a good priority, but now Phil was left in a mess again.
There wasn’t even any real point trying to tidy up – his viva was in four days’ time, that didn’t give him long to look over the rest of his notes and frantically try and prepare. This was the last time he’d ever need to work on something for his PhD, or education in general if he was able to get some work. In London, perhaps, if his tentative plans for the future somehow magically played out.
Phil bit his lip, recalling the rather strange conversation he’d had with Dan in relation to his possible idea of moving to London. It hadn’t gone anywhere near as well as Phil had hoped. Dan had been about to tell him something, Phil was sure, right before Tyler walked in, but – well, Phil had no idea what that might have been.
Some reason he had for not wanting Phil to move to London?
No, Phil tried to quench that doubt the minute it arose. Dan had made it clear enough he wanted Phil around him, and had told Phil more than once to quiet his insecurities surrounding that. Plus, Dan was actually planning to publicly announce Phil as his partner at the premiere in a week’s time – it was difficult to imagine anything more permanent.
Phil smiled at that image, pausing just before ordering takeaway for the night. He was caught somewhere between excited and terrified at thoughts of the premiere. On the one hand, he struggled through any kind of public event at the best of times, and this would be something quite different – a lot more spectacular than he was used to. Phil was really not the kind of person to attend premieres. He’d never in his life imagined he’d get there – although he’d always had an interest in the film industry, it was definitely from behind the scenes.
The idea of going to such a glitzy event on the arm of Daniel Howell himself sounded like it had to be happening to someone else.
But on the other hand, Phil knew Dan now – he knew what a lazy sod he could be, how Dan didn’t much like public affairs any more than Phil did, how they’d be leaning on each other to get through it. Plus, he would quite like to meet back up with Xander and Louise and the other people from the film set, the place he’d first met Dan, back when half of Manchester was clogged with the road closure.
Phil remembered how annoyed he’d been initially upon hearing the news of the set in his city, and grinned. That had changed rather drastically. And now, here he was, almost to the end of his PhD with the tantalising possibility of a shining future with Dan stretching out before him.
---
Two days before his viva, Phil met up with PJ for lunch. He hadn’t seen PJ in far too long, and he needed a distraction to quiet some of his greater nerves that were building more and more the closer it got to his final assessment. Plus, he really wanted to tell PJ about his and Dan’s plans for the premiere before they happened. The last thing Phil wanted was for PJ to read about him in a paper before Phil got the chance to talk to him.
PJ, it turned out, was busy himself packing up ready for moving to London. In all the excitement of his own life, Phil had almost forgotten about PJ getting his job down with the film company that Xander worked for, and so of course he was relocating.
Phil hoped to be joining him, if all went well. But he wasn’t sure how much to say for now. Everything felt so tentative still.
On the other hand, PJ was his best friend; they’d been close since their first term of uni. If there was anyone Phil could trust to confide in completely, it was PJ.
“So how’s packing going?” Phil asked, sipping at his coffee.
PJ swallowed his bite of sandwich and ran one hand through his curly hair. “Don’t even ask, seriously. I forgot how much stuff I have. And do you have any idea how expensive it is to hire removal vans to London?”
“I can imagine,” Phil agreed with a pained smile. “But you’ve got a place down there?”
“Yeah, not a great one but it’ll do.” PJ sent Phil a sly smirk. “Nothing like the place you’ve been crashing with Mr Daniel Howell, I suspect.”
Phil, much to his horror, felt warmth spreading up the back of his neck. “Hey. It wasn’t that flashy.”
That was a lie. Dan’s flat was pretty fancy, with his wage packet and Tyler’s combined they managed a pretty nice spacious place in the centre of London.
“Yes, well, mine’s barely bigger than a room and I’m lucky to have it,” PJ grumbled. “I hope you’ll come to visit me as well as that actor of yours, though, Phil.”
“Definitely,” Phil promised. “It’ll be weird without you here. Who am I going to drag out for lunch when I’m panicking next time?”
PJ fixed him with a soft, knowing look.
Phil shrank a little under that gaze.
“It isn’t just me in your life now, though, is it?” PJ asked smugly. “I called it, you know. When I saw how you were looking at him.”
Phil could feel the tips of his ears going red, heat still creeping up the back of his neck. “Was I that obvious?”
“Slightly.” PJ grinned at him. “I thought I must be seeing things at first though. Never seen you like that before.”
Phil half-smiled back. PJ knew him better than most – he was right, Phil hadn’t really acted like this before. Dan just… kind of came along and took over his world. Phil hadn’t been expecting that. If he looked objectively at the past few months of his life, he hardly even recognised himself.
But he felt good. Like he was moving forward. And he wanted to keep Dan around.
“About that, actually,” Phil began, his words getting thicker. “I, um. Maybe you won’t be the only one moving to London soon.”
PJ looked up, surprised, half-way through taking a bite of his sandwich.
“I’m thinking about it,” Phil admitted. “Maybe. Things with Dan, they’re – well, like you said, I haven’t really ever done this before. But they’re pretty great, if I’m honest.”
PJ grinned around his mouthful. “So you’re coming down too?”
“It’s something I’m thinking about,” Phil answered, nodding. “Quite seriously thinking about.”
PJ’s grin widened. He put down his sandwich and clapped Phil’s shoulder, harder perhaps than necessary. Phil’s shoulder ached. “That’s amazing! We’ll be a proper team, I’m glad, I need your help down South.”
“So you think it’s a good idea?” Phil asked a little shyly. “Me moving down too, I mean?”
PJ levelled him with a serious look. “I think that the fact you’re considering it is sign enough.”
Phil tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know you, Phil.” PJ was still looking at him seriously. “You don’t like change, you don’t like moving. You stayed close to home for a reason. So the fact you’re thinking about up and moving across the country – well, Dan must be pretty special.”
Phil bit his lip. The way PJ phrased that had nerves spiking back through him again, as if hearing so starkly just how drastic his plans were made him reconsider exactly what he was doing.
PJ caught the look and sent him a questioning stare. “Are you worried about it?”
“Well, a little,” Phil admitted. “It’s a big move. It’s kind of scary.”
PJ nodded, but he was smiling again. “Which is why the fact you’re even considering it tells me it’s a good idea. You’re ready for something new, mate. Have you thought about what you’ll do?”
Phil nodded slowly, remembering the research he’d done into editing companies, the bookmarks sitting unopened on his laptop, the emails sent and not yet answered. He had options. He had a favourite company all ready to call up, the one he’d told Dan about what felt like ages ago now. It wouldn’t take much to send off an application. He was qualified, he knew – or he would be, once his viva was out of the way.
The knowledge that his viva was only two days away sent nerves clenching in Phil’s stomach all over again.
But PJ seemed happy for him – and that was important. One more step in the direction Phil thought he wanted his life to take now. Not much longer and he could potentially have everything he’d once dreamed of.
If everything went well. If Dan really did want him to move down to London. If he wasn’t hiding anything.
But he couldn’t be. Phil would know.
---
“So I told Tyler the hot water isn’t running right because my shower was freezing this morning, and he completely blew up at me!” Dan’s tone was a familiar whine down the phone, keeping Phil company as he sorted through some of his extensive notes. Preparing for his viva had been driving him insane, so seeing the incoming call from Dan cheered him up no end.
He wondered if his heart would ever stop flipping over when he saw Dan’s name pop up on his phone screen.
“So what did he do to you?” Phil asked, amusement hiding behind his tone.
Dan huffed. “He didn’t do anything. He just told me that I should probably call the landlord if I had a problem.”
“I mean,” Phil said as blandly as he could, “You probably should.”
“Yes, but what if I don’t want to?”
“Not really a good enough excuse, is it,” Phil chuckled.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Rude.” Dan huffed. “How was your lunch with PJ?”
“Nice. Good, actually.” Phil straightened up, leaning back against his bookshelf. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Oh?” Dan sounded interested.
“Yeah. PJ’s getting ready to move, you know.” Phil fiddled with a pen lying on his desk. “Got a place in London.”
“It’s so good Xander liked him enough to hire him,” Dan agreed.
“Yeah.” Phil glanced at his desk, where his laptop still sat open on the email he’d drafted, a reply to the company he’d already expressed an interest with. His CV was attached. His portfolio was ready. All he had to do was click send.
But first—
“So PJ liked the idea of me possibly moving down there too.” Phil got the words out quickly, like nails through his teeth, a pool of nerves still tugging at his stomach.
There was a brief moment of silence.
“So it’s actually possible?” Dan started talking quickly, his words running together like they always did when he got excited. “You’re seriously thinking about it? And it wouldn’t be too far, your family – I always said I’m not going to take you away from them if you don’t want to, and your home’s up there, and—”
“Dan,” Phil interrupted firmly. “Do you want me to be in London?”
The answer was immediate. “Yes. Please.”
The words, simple as they were, were enough to calm the unsettling flutter swirling around in Phil’s stomach. He took in a breath, leaned over, and hit send on his computer. “Then I’m looking into making that happen.”
Dan drew in a sharp, excited breath. “Really? Like, actually, in real life, really?”
“Yes.” Phil bit back a grin. This was more the response he’d expected, more of what he wanted. Dan being excited, unafraid to show it (to Phil, at least) and full of eager ideas.
“Fuck, yes, you could stay with me and Tyler. If he ever stops grouching about the hot water. Or, actually, better idea, he can grouch so much he leaves and then you can just move in with me.”
“I don’t want to start this by kicking out your best friend,” Phil laughed, but he couldn’t deny the sharp little buzz starting to sing under his skin. The casual way Dan had said move in with me. Like it wasn’t even a question. Like of course they’d end up together.
“But the rest of it?” Dan wheedled. “How soon are we talking? Are you just going to stay here after the premiere?”
“I don’t think it quite works like that,” Phil answered with a grin still fighting its way onto his face. “I mean, I still have to pack up my stuff and somehow get everything down to London. Never mind I’d quite like to wait until I have confirmation of somewhere to work, I only just applied.”
There was a hesitant silence.
“You applied somewhere?” Dan’s voice was still excited, but more cautious. Phil supposed he was nervous on Phil’s behalf. “Where?”
“The place I told you about before.” Phil leaned over, read off the name of the person he’d contacted. “I literally just sent them my info. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
“I will.” Dan’s voice had gone a little funny, maybe the reception was bad. “You’ll walk into it. With your reputation, how hard you’ve worked.”
“I don’t have a reputation yet.” Phil gave a cynical laugh. “But I have lots of official-sounding letters after my name, so maybe that will help?”
“I’m sure it will.” Dan still sounded subdued. “Tyler just got back, I’ll call you back later?”
“Sure.” Phil glanced back over to his abandoned viva notes, knew he really needed to go through them properly again. “Good luck with the hot water.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it,” Dan answered dryly, and then hung up.
---
In London, Dan stared at his phone for a couple more seconds before running in a panic into the kitchen, where he could hear Tyler unpacking some shopping.
Tyler took one look at his face and glared. “No, Howell, I am not calling the landlord about anything ever again, not after you swore it would be your turn next time!”
“I’ll do it in a sec,” Dan waved him away, pointing dramatically at the phone in his hand. “We have a situation.”
Tyler looked from the phone, to Dan, and back to the phone again. “You can’t have broken that too, surely.”
“No, no.” Dan flapped his free hand. “Phil.”
“The man you’re hopelessly in love with, yes,” Tyler agreed slowly, raising a brow. “What about him?”
“He’s coming to London.”
“Now?” Tyler looked surprised. “I mean, not that I’m complaining – I could do with more time to get his shirt fitting properly…”
“No, no, not now,” Dan spat, ignoring the tug in his chest that wished that were true. “Like, forever. In the future.”
Tyler looked at him blankly. “…I’m not getting the panic here.”
“He emailed them!” Dan’s voice was getting shrieky. He made Tyler flinch. “The company! The one you made me tell about him!”
Tyler blinked, still staring. But then his eyes widened in understanding.
“Exactly!” Dan’s tone was still much more high-pitched than it should be. His breathing was quick, panic clouding his thoughts, and none of his years of actor training could teach him how to calm down.
Tyler raised a hand, palm out. “Hey, woah, woah. I didn’t make you do anything, Howell.”
“You were there!” Dan ran a distressed hand through his hair. “You could have stopped me! Fuck, I knew it was an awful idea, I knew—”
“Wait,” Tyler said, eyes wide as he stared up at Dan. “Wait a minute, calm down. You said he emailed them, right? So does he know?”
Dan let out a panicked breath, fingers clenching in the hem of his baggy shirt. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“Maybe he knows and just doesn’t care, then?” Tyler squeaked hopefully.
Dan let out a sardonic laugh. They both knew Phil well enough to know that couldn’t be true – they both knew that Phil wouldn’t just accept Dan putting in a good word for him without complaint. Phil was too fucking pure, had too much integrity. He wanted to get in of his own volition, manage his own progress, be completely assured that everything he did was from his own hard work. And he was good, he’d be able to go far.
But Dan had scuppered all of that for now, hadn’t he?
“Shit, I fucked up,” Dan half-whispered, his hand back in his hair and tugging, hard. “Shit. I shouldn’t have – I never should have done it.”
“You were acting in his best interests,” Tyler tried to placate him.
Dan levelled a glare his way. “We were.”
“Yes, yes, ok,” Tyler admitted, paling considerably. “Fuck, don’t tell him I had anything to do with this.”
Dan arched a brow. “Are you scared of him?”
“He’s way bigger than me!” Tyler bit his lip. “I don’t want to get punched.”
“Phil wouldn’t punch a beetle,” Dan disagreed, with wry experience. When Dan had found a bug in the bathroom once and promptly started screeching, Phil simply befriended it as he scooped it up and showed it to the door. “Besides, he’s going to be too concerned with yelling at me to do anything about you. And then never speaking to me again. Fuck.”
“It won’t be that bad,” Tyler reassured, even though he didn’t look particularly sure about it himself.
Dan looked back at him, not answering. The silence was heavy, and Tyler didn’t look convinced either, but Dan chose to believe his words, at least for now.
“It won’t be that bad,” Dan murmured, turning back to his room, and hoped with every bone in his body that it would be true.
---
The day of Phil’s viva, Phil was a shaking, trembling mess. But he got through it. Somehow, with a quick call to his mum beforehand where she told him to pull himself together, and a whole barrage of encouraging texts from Dan that blew up his phone to the point where Phil actually had to turn it off before he went in, Phil made it.
They tore his argument to shreds, of course, but (as much to Phil’s surprise as anyone else) his theory actually stood up to their inquisition. They liked it, he thought. At least, he left the room with a smile on his face, feeling more confident than he had in quite a long time.
And that was it. His education complete. All that was left was for him to receive his marks and then he’d be graduating.
Phil felt a strange, gaping sort of emptiness at that thought. The relief would come later, simmering deep in his bones, but it hadn’t quite sunk in yet. He was free. Endless time on his hands, freedom to do as he pleased.
The only thing still holding him to Manchester was his work at Lilith’s bookshop, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her he’d be moving yet.
Never mind the fact that he didn’t actually know for sure if he was moving. No word back from the editing company he’d emailed yet.
Phil didn’t have a huge amount of time to mope, though, not when the premiere he was attending with Dan was happening this weekend. It left him with far too little time to pack, to clean up the mess that was his apartment after weeks of living among scattered notes and countless books, all preparing for his viva. Which was now done. He was free.
He could feel it starting to sink in as he set about clearing up his things, carefully tidying away all his notes back into his filing system (Dan used to make fun of his folders, calling him an old man. The memory brought with it a wave of fondness and the urge to send Dan a bunch of texts, which Phil followed through on even though he knew Dan was currently in a meeting with his agent). It felt strange, in part, to be packing up the last four years of his life into folders, but Phil didn’t feel as empty as he thought he would.
He may just have been too busy freaking out about the premiere, of course.
He passed the rest of the week in a blur of packing and panicked calls to Dan, during which Dan attempted to soothe him, and one very bizarre occasion where Tyler called him, saying he’d stolen Phil’s number from Dan, to have a very serious discussion about the pairs of shoes Phil owned. Turned out there was a lot to think about when wearing an outfit to a premiere.
The weekend rolled around too soon, and Phil felt horrendously unprepared, but he still got on the train and spent the entire journey on tenterhooks, eager to see Dan again.
Dan, of course, met him at the station, and greeted him with a quick but fervent hug before pulling back nervously.
“Hey,” Phil reminded him gently, leaning into his side. “Last time we’ll ever have to hide it, remember?”
“Yeah,” Dan agreed, and sent him the sunniest, widest smile Phil had seen in a while. Phil’s stomach tugged. “True. That bit, I’m excited for.”
“Only that bit?” Phil teased mildly, letting Dan take a bag from him as they walked side-by-side out of the station. “Not the part where you’ll get to show off in front of a crowd of screaming fans?”
Dan shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’re the one dragging me to this thing, I hold every right to remind you.”
“Ok, first of all, you agreed to join me in this hell,” Dan reminded him, elbowing Phil’s side. “And secondly, you’re the only thing that’s going to make this bearable, so please kindly shut the fuck up.”
Phil, despite himself, snorted. “So polite.”
“As much as you deserve.” Dan elbowed him again, then took hold of his arm to lead him out of the station and to a waiting car.
Phil stopped, looked at it (it had blacked out windows) and then sent Dan a questioning look.
“Sorry.” Dan grimaced a little. “With the premiere coming up and all, interest has spiked a bit. It’s safer to travel this way.”
“Oh.” The cluster of nerves gathered in Phil’s stomach set alight again. He took in a breath. “OK. That’s fine. Yeah.”
“You sound anything but fine,” Dan chuckled, and then took his hand and led him gently forwards.
They put Phil’s bags in the boot and then climbed in the back, and the driver politely nodded to Dan before setting off. “Back to your flat?”
“Yes please, James,” Dan answered, and Phil held back a laugh at the uncomfortable look on Dan’s face. He knew enough of Dan now to believe that Dan disliked having a driver almost as much as Phil felt uncomfortable sitting on the fancy white leather seats.
The drive did give them an excuse to sit close and hold hands, though, which Phil wasn’t exactly complaining about.
When they got back, Tyler was in waiting for them and had cooked an extravagant meal. Phil was still a little scared of him, so clung close to Dan’s side from the moment they stepped in lest Tyler jump him with more questions about colours and styles and the way he wore his hair.
He couldn’t help but compliment Tyler on his cooking, though, after a few bites of the steak.
“It’s my dream to be a house husband one day,” Tyler sighed thoughtfully in response. “This is just practice for when I cook for my family every night.”
“You hardly ever cook for me,” Dan griped, leaning over Phil to get some water.
Tyler smiled at him sweetly. “That’s because, Howell, you’re an ungrateful lazy disaster of a human. You’re just lucky I like your boyfriend.”
Phil choked on his glass, but Dan just snickered.
“And you two had better keep it down tonight,” Tyler added seriously, sending both of them a sharp, knowing glance that instantly made Phil uncomfortable. “I know you must have missed each other, but no funny business, at least not loudly. I need my beauty sleep.”
“Oh, we won’t talk loudly past ten,” Phil assured him.
Tyler snorted. “Adorable. That’s not what I meant, Phil.”
Phil blinked for a moment, confused, and then his eyes went wide.
Dan was sitting beside him and reached over instantly, a reassuring hand on Phil’s knee and a calm voice as he said, “Shut the fuck up, Tyler.”
“I mean, I won’t blame you,” Tyler added, still tucking into his side salad. “A week’s a long time, you’ve missed each other, I get it, but I don’t need to hear any unnecessary noises, alright? No mental images that will scar me for life.”
Phil was politely choking through Tyler’s words. He cowered down in his seat so low he wanted to disappear, could feel the hot redness spreading across the back of his neck and to the tips of his ears.
He knew what Tyler was talking about. Or, at least, he thought he knew.
“Um,” Phil managed to squeak, and Dan sent him a sharp look.
Phil looked back. “Should we tell him?”
Dan couldn’t keep the surprise from his face, even as he schooled his expression into a calm, blank one. “That’s up to you, Phil. It has to be your decision.”
Phil bit his lip.
Tyler looked between them, confused. “You know, I’m getting used to you two speaking in your own language, but if this is about me…”
“Sorry,” Phil said quickly, flicking Tyler a glance. He still felt like his face was on fire. “Um. There’s something – I should maybe tell you.”
Tyler quirked a brow at him.
Dan squeezed Phil’s knee, leaning into his side. “You sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, I – I want to.” Phil sat up a little, squaring his shoulders. “It’s not even that big a deal, it’s just – Tyler, you don’t, like, ever have to worry about those, um… noises. Like you were talking about.”
Tyler’s brow rose even higher.
“I’m asexual,” Phil blurted out, the word releasing something wound up tight in his chest. He swallowed past the nervous lump in his throat. “Um, so. That’s. Like, that’s – not a thing that’s ever going to happen?”
It came out more like a question. Why did it have to come out like a question?
Tyler was staring at him with his mouth open.
Dan, of course, came to the rescue. He leaned into Phil’s side but kept his gaze flickering back to Tyler, even as Dan nonchalantly continued eating his steak. He spoke between bites. “So yeah, you get your peace and quiet. Doesn’t mean you get to just walk into my room whenever you want, though, that rule still applies.”
Tyler blinked, finally. He was still staring at Phil. “You’re what, exactly?”
Phil floundered under that gaze. “Umm. Asexual. And sex-repulsed, for that matter, but like – mostly just asexual.”
Phil had done his research. He was more comfortable with his label now, and where he sat on it, but that didn’t really make saying it out loud any easier.
Tyler was still gawping at him.
“Close your mouth,” Dan told him, reaching for more salad.
Tyler promptly snapped his mouth shut, only to open it again a second later. “Asexual?”
The back of Phil’s neck was on fire. “Um. Yes.”
“Huh.” Tyler sat back, eyes still fixed on him. “Funny. I’ve never met one in real life before, I always just kind of assumed it was made up.”
Phil, despite himself, flinched. He didn’t know Tyler that well, true, but he hadn’t expected such avid confusion in his tone.
He should have expected it, though. He wasn’t normal. He knew this. Tyler’s reaction was just further proving it.
Dan, however, was looking at Tyler through a sharp-eyed glare. “Well, it isn’t. And now you have. So.”
Phil shrank in his seat.
Tyler closed his mouth again, looking between them still, from Phil’s determined slouch staring down at the table to Dan’s sharp glare that didn’t leave Tyler’s face.
Wisely, Tyler decided to change the subject.
“Ok, well…” he trailed off, still looking at Phil with something like confusion in his eyes. “Ok. That’s fine, I guess. Um. Both your outfits are laid out for tomorrow, put them on early so I can get started on your hair and make-up, alright?”
At that, Phil’s gaze snapped back up to Tyler, eyes widening. “What was that, sorry?”
Dan elbowed his side lazily. “Don’t worry too much. Tyler’s insistent, but he’s good.”
“Exactly, and I can’t let you go walking down that red carpet without looking stunningly attractive. Everyone’s going to want to have you.” Tyler paused a second. “Or, well – um. However you want to look. Either way, you’ll be hanging off Dan’s arm all night, I’m going to make you look like the perfect couple you absolutely are.”
Nerves curled up like ashes rekindling in Phil’s stomach at that mental image. Him and Dan before all those cameras, all those people watching him, judging him, and he had no doubt that not all of them would look upon him and Dan favourably.
He didn’t voice these thoughts until much later, after dinner was cleared and Tyler settled on the sofa while Dan and Phil retreated back to Dan’s room, the door shut, them sprawled out across the bed.
“It’s a big thing you’re doing, after all,” Phil confessed quietly into Dan’s neck, Dan’s fingers soothingly stroking over his back. “No one is going to look at us the same. What if people react badly? Twitter’s already crazy enough, but this is like, the actual newspapers and stuff. What if—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Dan interrupted smoothly, his fingers pressing into Phil’s spine, “Before you freak me out more than I already am.”
Phil looked up, brow wrinkling apologetically. “Sorry. I don’t mean to do that, I’m just…” he sighed, rolling further into Dan’s body, concentrating on his warmth.
“Scared?” Dan finished for him, voice so soft it was barely a murmur. “Because that makes two of us.”
Phil winced. He reached out, arms wrapping around Dan, and rolled them until they were both on their sides, facing each other. He used one finger to gently trace down Dan’s cheek, pressing once where his dimple usually sat, and then cupped his face with his palm. “It’ll be alright. We’ll do it together, and afterwards, it’ll still just be us. That’s what you told me, remember? We’ll just be us.”
Dan’s brown eyes looked back at him, full of insecurity, but his grip tightened around Phil’s fingers. “You promise?”
“I promise,” Phil answered easily, and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Dan’s mouth. “We’ll still be us, whatever happens tomorrow.”
Dan curled into him like a pretzel piece, long and gangly and he was definitely kneeing Phil in the stomach, but Phil dealt with it for the feeling of being able to wrap his arms tight around Dan and hold him close.
Phil clung to his own words as he closed his eyes. Dan would still be his come morning, come whatever happened after the premiere. Whatever people would think of him, some nobody hanging off The Daniel Howell’s arm. Dan would still be his, whatever people assumed. That would be enough to get him through tomorrow.
---
Despite all his reassurances to himself, Phil woke the next morning with a tight ball of nerves coiled in his stomach.
He went through the motions of getting dressed with his throat closing up and nausea roiling beneath his skin, tingling. One glance at Dan told him Dan was in a similar state, except Dan was better at hiding it – his face smoothed out impassively, hard-to-read. It wasn’t for nothing that Dan was such a successful actor at such a young age.
Dan helped Phil into his dark gold jacket and then wrapped his arms around him, just hugging him for a moment. “It’ll be fine. We’ve got this.”
Dan’s voice was steady, which was a reassurance, but Phil was still jangling with nerves as he turned in Dan’s embrace to face him. “Have we? Honestly? Because I don’t feel like I have a clue.”
“Oh, same,” Dan said, and laughed. “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, but – but this will be so worth it, Phil.”
Phil bit his lip, took in a breath. “No more hiding.”
“No more hiding.” Dan leaned into him, his head resting on Phil’s shoulder. “I just want to hold your hand on the street, why is this so hard?”
Phil gave a low chuckle. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist and pulled him closer, pressing his face into Dan’s viciously straightened hair. “After today, it will be. Then you can hold my hand all you like.”
“I’m never going to let you go,” Dan answered determinedly. He still looked pale when he drew back, though, and Phil didn’t miss the taught thinness of his lips. Dan might be doing a good job of hiding it, but Phil could still see the nerves.
He leaned in and kissed Dan softly, eyes falling closed for just a moment. Dan melted against him in just the way Phil was growing used to, the way he missed most when he was alone in Manchester wrapped up in his bedsheets, and kissed back with a soft sort of desperation.
It was a long moment before Phil drew away, and then they turned to face the day together.
The hours passed all-too-fleetingly for Phil’s taste. He spent most of the day sat in a chair in the kitchen surrounded by products he had never heard of before (Tyler improvised the kitchen table into a make-up desk, complete with several mirrors that Phil tried to avoid looking into). Dan was by his side, grumbling at Tyler good-naturedly and every now and then prodding Phil with his foot when he wanted to get more attention, which Phil was happy to give even with the nerves that seemed to jump tighter and tighter with each passing minute.
All too soon, he was standing with Dan by the door with a car waiting downstairs, Tyler flitting about putting final touches to their looks.
Dan took both Phil’s hands in his in the last moment, turning Phil to face him. He looked beautiful like this, Phil admitted – Tyler had done a perfect, subtle job, and Dan was practically sparkling.
His eyes, though. His eyes were what drew Phil the most, dark and serious but lit with something that might just be excitement.
“You sure?” Dan asked, fingers tightening around Phil’s. “Now’s the time to back out.”
Phil swallowed. He stood up a little straighter, feeling awkward in his suit and with his face caked for the first time, but – but here he was at Dan’s side. Dan’s date to a film premiere.
Phil certainly hadn’t imagined this outcome the first time he came across Dan in rainy Manchester, however many moons ago that was. It almost felt like a different life.
He looked Dan right in the eyes and said, “I’m ready.”
Tyler cooed, breaking the moment, and Phil almost glared at him, almost.
Dan, however, just rolled his eyes and pulled Phil in for a careful hug. Phil leaned into him, breathing in his familiar smell, settling his nerves for the final time.
Dan opened the door, and they stepped out together.
The car was waiting downstairs, sleek and black just like the one that had picked them up from the train station. Phil was glad of the tinted windows the closer they got to the centre of town. The crowds outside the car were insane. Phil had been prepared, of course he had, he knew that going to something like this involved lots of people – he’d seen it on tv – but nothing had quite prepared him for the reality of it.
The reality of the cameras he could already see flashing outside the window, the rows and rows of people, and they weren’t even at the red carpet yet.
Dan, ever the attentive boyfriend that he was, slid his thumb across Phil’s fingers where their hands were joined in the back and leaned his head against Phil’s shoulder. “It’ll be quiet once we get into the actual cinema. It’s just the walking in that’s the nightmare.”
“The red carpet, you mean.” Phil’s voice came out sounding far more strangled than he’d expected.
“Yeah. That.” Dan managed a chuckle, somehow. Phil wished he knew where Dan found his calm from. “I’ll do all the talking, though, promise.”
“So I’m just here to smile and look pretty?” Phil did his best to sound affronted. “Is that all you want me for, Howell?”
“Yeah, totally, you’re just here to make me look good.”
“You don’t need any help with that.”
“Shut up.” Dan nudged him with his shoulder. “I’ll be talking about you, anyway. The whole time. Finally get to not shut up about you.”
Phil couldn’t hold back a smile at that. He leaned into Dan, letting out a soft sigh. “Am I really worth all this, Dan?”
Dan wrapped a long arm around Phil’s shoulder and brought him close into his chest. “You’re worth all of this and way more, Phil, and you know it. I’d turn my whole life upside down for you. Well,” Dan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, “You kind of did that yourself, actually.”
Phil sent him a curious look, nestling happily under Dan’s arm. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, like,” Dan flicked his hair out of his eyes and leaned into him. “I never imagined doing this. Always figured I’d keep as much to myself as possible, stay firmly at a distance, that sort of thing. But then you showed up and made me want to change it – like, you made me want to publicly bicker with you on Twitter and post photos of us everywhere and I really wasn’t expecting that. Never mind all of this,” Dan waved a hand irritably at the cameras flashing outside as the car edged closer and closer, “You made me feel something I never expected to. Pride. Pride in you, and, because you seem to like me, pride in myself, too. That’s what I feel the most right now, even if I’m quietly dying inside. I’m proud of us.”
Phil bit his lip, hard. He swallowed.
Then he leaned in and kissed Dan swiftly, on the lips, even when Tyler had warned them against doing that for fear of smudging their make-up.
When he drew back, Dan looked the best kind of startled.
“I love you,” Phil said, hurriedly. “The most. You know that, right?”
Dan let out a quiet laugh, but he squeezed Phil’s hand tight. “Yeah. Me too, Phil, fuck – you have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” Phil disagreed quietly, and squared his shoulders as the car rolled to a final halt. “You ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be.” Dan drew away from him, turning to face him. “Did you smudge me?”
“No,” Phil answered (well, he couldn’t see anything out of place, even if he wasn’t an expert).
“Then let’s go.” Dan squeezed his hand one more time, turned, and pushed the door open, helping Phil out after him.
The sound of the screaming crowd was instantly overwhelming, closely followed by the brightest flashes of light Phil had ever seen. He squinted instantly, shielding his eyes, legs trembling with the fear that crept incessantly through his veins.
For an instant, he was frozen.
Then Dan was there, gently taking his hand, and Phil failed at resisting the urge to lean into him.
“We’ve got this,” Dan murmured to him, squeezing his fingers, and Phil swallowed and found his feet.
He nodded once, looking into Dan’s serious gaze, and summoned up a smile which Dan briefly returned.
Together, they stepped into the lights, hand-in-hand.
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staffordartglass · 6 years
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If you follow Stafford Art Glass on our Facebook page, you will certainly know about how I broke some fingers while rebuilding the glass furnace in November. Then, while I was recuperating, I brought in an engineering company to aid in automating some of the equipment in the studio in order to make it easier to use for all involved. This was a process that should have taken a couple of months, but dragged on for close to four months.  You probably also watched as updates came every several weeks about how that process was coming along. It has all worked out really well, even if it has taken longer than I ever thought that it would.
Myself, I have tried to remain as Zen about this as possible.  While I very much want to have glass available to an eager group who has expressed interest in it, I also know that once I get in the thick of things once the furnaces are turned on and the gas bills keep climbing, it will be harder to make the changes that I have made this past Spring and into this Summer.  These are all great changes, they just take time (some longer than others!).
As I sit here, the furnace is actually on  its second melt, which means that it is producing excellent glass, the doors to all of the furnaces and a kiln have been hooked up to pneumatic foot control (nice for when you are holding a blow pipe), the vent hood has been enclosed for more efficient ventilation, a fan has been wired in for that vent hood, and some other equipment have also gotten some upgrades.
Partial enclosure, part dry-fit of the new hood assembly!
Over the course of the last several months I have ordered over 50 new glass colors, and I put in another order for over half of that amount just yesterday. I have ordered glass color that I think will make for really interesting pumpkins as well as expanded color choices for ornaments, increasing the choices ten-fold. Some of these colors are ones I have not used in my own professional production over twenty years of working in the field (so this is a big step). None of this has been cheap, but it makes for a better experience for all of the people who are eager to sink their teeth into some exciting new offerings at the studio. One of the upgrades has been making sign-up for classes or workshops something that you can do from your phone or computer online.
Beginning the first of October, I will be rolling out my new online booking calendar.  This calendar will be available right here on this blog at http://www.staffordartglass.blog.  This calendar will allow you to book classes from the comfort of your mobile device or from your living room.  From now until the calendar goes live, there will be upgrades and changes being made to the calendar to make it more useful for most of the classes that will be taught at the studio.
Here are some of the classes that will be offered beginning October 1st:
Blow Your Own Pumpkin – offered from October 1st through to November 18th. You can pick a thirty minute slot for a small pumpkin or two slots for a larger pumpkin (I will have examples of these two sizes when we get closer to our class roll-out).
Blow Your Ornament Ball (BYOB) from November 30th through to December 22nd.
Make Your Own Paperweight – available year round.
Make Your own Suncatcher – available year round.
Weekend Glass Blowing Intensive – the first weekend of each month (subject to minimum enrollment).
One-Day Glass Blowing Intensive – the second Saturday of each month (subject to minimum enrollment).
That said, this schedule is just a guide to make things easier for all involved.  However, if someone would like to make a pumpkin in January or even in May, all you need to do is look on the calendar and see if the time is available.  The same goes for ornaments. If you would like to blow an ornament in October to avoid making something in December, you are welcome to do that. The way the calendar and the classes are set up for single items, I have those designed so that an ornament can be made  within a 30 minute booking session. Since all classes are individual and include one-on-one instruction (except for the one and two-day intensives) this makes scheduling much easier. In truth, it might only take 15 minutes to make an ornament or suncatcher, but we give you that time to make sure we cover all the bases.  Likewise, a small pumpkin can be made in thirty minutes and a large one can be made in an hour (you would book two thirty minutes slots and let me know that you want to make a large pumpkin when you arrive). The elegance of the way these experiences are set up is that by doubling up on two 30 minute slots is you get the right pricing and enough time to make your piece.  It is a modular system I developed that makes scaling up simple and easy.
There are many things I do not know just yet about the full functionality of the calendar and how many options I will be able to include, but right off the bat I know that there are some options that will be available.  For example, this calendar will be able to utilize coupon codes so those of you who follow Stafford Art Glass at Facebook or on other social media sites like Twitter can grab coupon codes that will be announced there and bring them here for making your final booking.
In instances where the calendar does not allow for the type of flexibility that I might have hoped, I will be announcing work-arounds in the event that someone wants something custom or different from the norm.  But as of right now, I am still learning how to make this calendar as flexible for your use as possible.  I am using one of the highest rated booking calendars out there available for the Word Press platform (it even takes payments) so I am expecting a high degree of functionality once I uncover all of the bells and whistles in the next few weeks.  Given how this past year has gone, I am a little gun shy about making promises about exactly how I expect something like the new booking system will work.  I just know that once I sink my teeth into it, I will be able to work through the software to help bring value to my customers.
If you subscribe to the blog, you will be kept up to date about any new classes or events happening that involve booking your place for an event.  While there will also be updates on Facebook, these can easily get buried under new posts. Word Press makes it so that you can receive updates through email as well as SMS (text message to your phone) which can be even more convenient for many of you. I can also provide class descriptions here that may be too lengthy for Facebook readers.
You will find that prices are inclusive for all of our classes. That means no pesky add-ons that you have to worry about. Anyone taking a class also receives 15% off all merchandise in the gallery as a special thank-you for educating yourself about what it takes to delve into the world of glass making.
In the meantime, until we reach the first of October, I will be working to produce samples of a full line of ornaments that will make deciding on an ornament color combination easier once you show for your time slots. I will do the same with sample pumpkin color combinations, too. Then, if you get here and can’t decide what colors you would like, I will have some samples that might make deciding easier.
Thank you all who have been following along for your patience!  My hope is that the changes will be welcome and will make everything just a little bit more easy. Here’s to a fun and exciting Fall!
Keep It Hot
~Parker
Fall Workshops and Classes If you follow Stafford Art Glass on our Facebook page, you will certainly know about how I broke some fingers while rebuilding the glass furnace in November.
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pcvkaplowitz-blog · 7 years
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Week 3: Getting Familiar
Who Do You Know Here? 
I’ve been in Nicaragua for 25 days and finally feel like I’m getting into a rhythm. I even downloaded a book in Spanish on my kindle (El Pergamino de la Seducción by Nicaraguan author Gioconda Belli). Not that I’ve gotten very far into it, reading in another language is hard! I was inspired by my Spanish teacher Erika who recommended at this point in my language development the best thing I can do to improve is practice reading and writing. Erika is the first Spanish teacher I’ve ever actually enjoyed having class with, so I’m a little bummed teachers get rotated between groups every three weeks. 
My cohort of trainees in Niquinohomo get along well. We all are very different people, but still have fun together and as I learn more about them individually I feel more grounded. It will take time to feel really close to them, but we’re getting there. I also look forward to developing relationships with people from other training sites, especially trainees in the health sector who we see less frequently. 
I’ve been grateful to see how responsive the staff in Peace Corps respond to feedback from trainees. After an especially arduous training session last week the Master Trainer acknowledged the complaints he received in an appropriate manner during this week’s training and encouraged us to continue to provide feedback. 
Some of my favorite conversations have been with current volunteers. Volunteers are frequently invited to lead training seminars and chatting with them is a great way to learn more about the expectations and lifestyle I can anticipate after swearing in. Yesterday we had diversity training at the gorgeous Laguna de Apoyo. The session was solid, pretty basic for anyone who is familiar with diversity work. We covered the Gender Unicorn,” an updated version of the Genderbread Man, and made identity identity charts. Although I look forward to having deeper conversations it would have been hard to do so in a group of almost 50 people, and while being supervised by our bosses. 
At the training I met Adrian, a second year Volunteer. Adrian and I have a mutual friend that we bonded over and got to talking only to realize he had also lived with Manuela in Niquinohomo! He came back to the house with me to say hello to the family and we were able to have a really nice conversation over a plate of Manuela’s famous pollo frito. By the time he left to catch a bus to Managua I felt better about my feelings about training, expectations for service, and reasons for being here. 
Reading this I’m sure you’ve gotten the impression all my interactions are with members of Peace Corps, which isn’t the case. Most of my Nicaraguan circle is composed of Manuela’s (extensive) extended family. Beyond the people living in my house I’ve reached out to cousins, nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles. Figuring out how any individual is related to Manuela is complicated but connecting with them is not. I enjoy conversations with everyone who has the patience to listen to my misconjugations and confused articles. 
Álvaro may be the only family member who likes getting his picture taken while Evelyn loves trying to get me to play go-fish with her. Pablito on the other hand is asking me for guitar lessons, while I’m trying to get my own lessons from Yunior. Besides family members Pedro and Pablo basically live at the house and are always friendly and willing to chat while they aren’t help Manuela with her endless assortment of errands. 
Outside my family I’ve gotten to know a handful of people. There’s Jorge Tellas who made my guitar, a few familiar faces at the gym who I talk to but have trouble recalling the names of, and Daniel’s host family who I went out for hamburgers with on his birthday. 
Although I’ve put a lot of energy into learning about my PC my counterparts and building a support system from amongst them, I’ve also try to integrate into the community. As I move forward in training I will certainly have to continue to build relationships with both P.C. members and host country nationals. It’s a lot less natural to make friends in Spanish and certainly a good skill to practice as much as possible. 
But What Do You Know About Entrepreneurship? 
After receiving my offer from PC to work as an “Entrepreneurship Educator” I remember my roommate asking: “What do you know about entrepreneurship?” My answer is not a lot. Actually, basically nothing. I have a few friends from school with startups I’ve been around to help formulate but I’ve never played a significant role in any of those endeavors. So when I was told I’d be in a position of educate others on something I have no experience in I was shook. But it’s not like I lied about my experience in the interview so I figured if they offered me this position there may be a reason for it. 
What I’ve found over the past few weeks is that my background is not as much of a disadvantage as I predicted. There are two main reasons for this change of heart. First, the program focuses on human development, second, the realities of operating a business in Nicaragua are nothing like running a business in the United States. 
The Peace Corps approach is about creating sustainable improvements in sites by building capacity through the utilization of local skills and success. This means: Developing a business plan for somebody is pointless unless they understand why it is important and are both motivated and able to implement it. Teaching an excellent class to high schoolers is nice but will not have nearly the same effect if the teacher you work with is unable to continue to give excellent classes in your absence. 
Basically, it doesn’t matter how successful your own business is in the states. It is marginally important how much of a difference you make in your site for the time you are there. It is almost entirely about if the people you work with aren’t able to continue your success. It’s about the teacher and the small business owner, moreover, it’s about their ability to pass on their skills to others. 
Among Nicaraguans the baseline for business knowledge is generally lower than I expected. In many small businesses here basic U.S. practices are often overlooked or underutilized. Peace Corps has given us the example of financial records. Many Nicaraguan business do not maintain financial records and many businesses that do still don’t know how to use a budget to modify their business practices. Although I do not come from a business background I still bring knowledge I did not realize I had and there is still plenty of training (not to mention my entire service) left to continue to learn. 
On the educational end, many of the teachers in charge of AEP classes have never taught the class before and have a background in entirely different subjects. Helping these teachers understand a new curriculum is much more reasonable than trying to coach a teacher already experienced in their field. My goal is to make superstar teachers, but first I will have to make sure the teachers understand the most basic elements. My role is to make sure teachers actually teach the students rather than go through the motions. 
In order to be successful, I will need to build relationships. I need to identify successful business owners, gain their confidence, and learn why they are able to be successful. Furthermore, I need the successful business owners to take on roles as community leaders and educate their neighbors. I need to identify successful teachers and build networks so that teachers can share their practices. 
So the question remains, what do I know about entrepreneurship? I know enough. I know enough to identify the business and pedagogies that work given the cultural and economic constraints in Nicaragua. I must develop my business knowledge, but I also must develop my interpersonal skills. My success over the next two years will be determined by my ability to partner with Nicaraguans and empower them to change their own community. 
Fortunately, Nicaraguans generally seem to be a helpful bunch. The people I have met embody the phrase “lift as you rise,” and generally do not view helping their neighbor as a threat to their own well-being. In this respect I wish for Americans to learn from Nicaraguans as well.
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hennessy-jacen · 4 years
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Jacen Hennessy (Pre-Henneson)
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Basic Facts.
What is Your Character’s Name?
Jacen with a "c", Denver like the city, Hennessy like the brandy.
How does the character feel about his or her name?
I like it well enough. It's a great conversation starter.
How did he or she get this name? Was it passed on from a family member, or did the parents read it on the side of a cereal box the day the child was born?
My parents wanted to be unique? Just swapped an "s" for a "c", an "o" for an "e"? They met in Denver and my dad is super
Irish
. Like embarrassingly Irish.
What is the meaning of the name?
It comes from a Gaelic name that sounds similar but is spelled with more vowels than I can fit in my mouth.
What culture did the name originate from?
Irish.
Super
Irish.
What regions of the world did the name come from?
Ireland. Like many Irish things.
What connotations or stereotypes does the name have?
I'm an alcoholic from Colorado named Jason?
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How old is your character?
25
When was he or she born?
October 5, 1991
What events were happening locally, nationally and globally the year your character was born?
Terminator came out. My parents got into a fight cause my mom insisted on watching it in theaters six months pregnant. So basically Arnold Schwarzenegger is to blame for everything that's wrong with me.
What is the zodiac sign?
Libra
Does his or her zodiac sign have any bearing on their personality traits?
My mom says I have great patience like all good Libras.
What Chinese Horoscope year were they born in?
The year of the great goat lol
How does this influence their personality traits?
I make b-a-a-a-a-a-ad jokes?
How does your character like to celebrate his or her birthday?
Like it was any other day. It's a treat to be busy and have consistency in my day to day life. I'm fine if no one knows or cares.
What does your character look like?
Like a pasty hobbit?
Is your character Athletic or Overweight? Tall or Short?
I'm 5'9 so reaching for things is a struggle but they made sure I could lift three times my weight if push came to shove during paramedic training so I guess I have that going for me.
Hair color and length?
I used to have blonde hair when I was a kid but it got darker real quick. It's pretty brown now and I like keeping it short-ish. Just as long as it's out of my way, I'm good.
Eye color?
Bl...ue? I think that's what my license says.
Any scars or birth marks?
A couple of scars here and there just from getting scraped up on the job. Nothing serious.
Does your character have a physical disability?
No, thankfully and luckily, considering how easy it is to get bent out of shape in my job.
What actress or actor would you have play the role of your character if it was a movie?
Haha, maybe if I was more photogenic, tall, and muscular, Ryan Gosling. Basically, if I wasn't a pasty hobbit then Ryan Gosling.
What style of clothes does your character wear?
I like being comfortable. But I also like looking good when I don't
have
to be comfortable. I own a lot of flannel plaid, a couple of leather-ish jackets, a ton of jeans, a lot of t-shirts and a lot of sweatpants. Not very inventive.
What clothes would he or she wear every day on a casual basis?
All the plaid in the world. And then some.
For a night out on the town?
I own slacks. Somewhere. And some button-downs that aren't plaid. And cologne.
To bed?
Shorts or just my boxers.
Does he or she wear any special jewelry or accessories?
Can't really wear jewelry to work at the risk of it ending up on the ambulance floor and at that point it's gone forever.
What type of shoes does your character wear?
Sneakers for days. All the Dr. Scholl's you can handle is under my feet, day in, day out.
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Where does your character live?
Girard Estates, South Philly.
Is it an Apartment? House? In the backseat of his car?
It's the second floor of a house so it's pretty comfortable.
How does your character feel about the current living arrangements?
Pretty comfortable lol I've been there for a while, I like it, it's home.
Does your character live with anyone else? Who are those people?
Not anymore.
How does your character get along with his or her neighbors?
My downstairs neighbors are pretty cool. Their dog shows up on my doorstep sometimes so that's cute, I guess? Who has a dog door on their front door and not the door leading into the backyard? Anyway, they're a couple, they're cool.
What is the view outside of your character's window?
Trees, hedges, sidewalk, some cars. Most people park in their garages or driveways though.
What items do they keep next to their bed?
My phone, my Fitbit, a lamp. A chapstick when it decides not to roll off on its own accord.
What is your character's most valuable possession?
I value all of my material things with the same amount of indifference lol I don't have anything crazy valuable. I guess I'd be mad if someone stole my TV or laptop or headphones but that's just cause they were expensive, not cause they're sentimental valuable. Unless you meant monetarily valuable cause then definitely my TV. The thing cost an arm and a leg.
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What does the character do for a living?
I'm a paramedic.
Do they find this work enjoyable?
Yeah, it's rewarding even though it's like 80% organized chaos and 20% escorting highly inebriated people to the drunk tank to sleep it off.
What is your character's dream job?
I guess I'd like to properly go to medical school someday, get my degree and all...but I also feel like I procrastinated it for too long. I'm 25, by the time I go to school and get into the practice I'll be ancient...I dunno. Maybe one day. I love it where I am though and I don't know if I'd miss the energy if being a paramedic if I was confined to a building all day.
What is your character's financial situation?
I'm doing good, I'm comfortable. I can get nice things that I want without having to think too hard about it so it's a luxury I feel like I'm lucky to have.
What does your character spend most of his/her money on?
I spend a lot of money on food. It's dumb, I like to treat myself to nice meals. That and recreation, I like new experiences a lot so I don't mind paying for like scuba diving lessons and stuff.
What would your character do if he or she won the lottery?
I'd probably help some people out, like pay some medical school bills for some friends. I know some really good people who help others out a lot that are drowning in crippling debt cause they made the decision to help others out and that's not fair. And then I'd probably get myself a really good steak.
W
hat is your character's highest level of education?
I have a bachelor's in health science.
What things do they wish were different about their current profession?
I wish there was a little better support from administration sometimes. I wish equipment wasn't updated once in a century. My hospital isn't one wealthy or high enough on the radar to get trial equipment so we have to wait the years it takes for licenses, patents, and mass production to roll out things to us that could save lives today. It's frustrating to know there's knowledge and equipment out there that's reserved for the richest, the best in politics, and so forth.
...Is it too late to say don't get me started?
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Who are his or her parents?
My dad is Caden and my mom is Angie. Hennessy.
Does he or she have any siblings?
Nope, they decided I was trouble enough. Kidding, I think they tried but it just didn't pan out before or after me.
A spouse or other romantic partner or love interest?
Not at the moment.
How about children?
The only person I figured I'd have children with left me so...no.
Other family? Aunts? Uncles? Second Cousins Twice Removed?
I have like 15 cousins. My parents both have a lot of siblings and a lot of them have kids who also have kids. Family reunions are kind of nutso.
How does your character feel about family functions and events?
Speaking of... lol They're okay, really. It's a lot of people but we usually rent out big parks or places where we can all exist without getting on too many nerves and there are ample hiding spots. The kids are cute and there's always good food and my parents always spoil me a bit hoping I don't get annoyed and stop showing up one year so that's nice too.
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Who are your character's closest friends?
Mostly people I work with. I spend a lot of time with my squad so they really know me better than anyone else.
How did your character meet his or her best friend?
Work. I guess if I really had to pick someone I'm closest to on the squad it would be Jackson. I've known him since my first day on the squad, we started together.
What do they value most in friendship?
Fun, good naturedness. I like being able to relax, it's really important that I can just be myself around the people I hang out with.
Does your character make friends easily?
I guess. I don't get on people's shit list easily, I don't think.
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What was your character's first romantic encounter like?
Um embarrassing and in college? Also not totally sober? I went away for college so being away from home for the first time was an experience lol
How does your character display affection?
Uh...I like being close I guess? Like in proximity, I just like having people close and comfortable with me. I like holding hands and stuff. I dunno, just your generic stuff.
What is your character's idea of a perfect romantic date?
Something that makes us both really happy. Something meaningful. I like having a purpose when I go places, discovering things is so much more worthwhile with another person.
Has your character ever had his or her heart broken?
I mean, yeah.
What qualities does your character look for in a romantic partner?
The same stuff I look for in a good friend, I guess. I just want someone I can really be myself around. Someone that can make me smile and someone that I can make smile.
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Does your character have any pets? What type?
Nope, I'm really not home enough to have a pet.
What are your characters favorite animals?
I like cats and dogs. I think it'd be kind of neat to have a ferret or a bearded dragon but I think I'd feel bad about keeping a bearded dragon in literally a tank all day.
How many times has your character visited the zoo?
I used to go a lot as a kid. My parents would bring me or I'd go with my cousins. Once for school, that was cool. I bought my parents a stuffed monkey from that trip and they still have it so I guess that's kind of important to me or whatever :')
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What are his or her favorite foods to eat?
I like a lot of things, food is literally my favorite. I like ramen and lamb and a lot of roasted greens. This is a hard question, I like a lot of things a lot.
Does he or she enjoy to cook?
Yeah. I get really ambitious and it isn't always excellent but I like to try.
Any food allergies or sensitivities?
No, thankfully.
What foods can he or she not stand to be around or eat?
My dad's family has a pallet for some things I don't love. Irish baked goods are just not that great and I don't get the hype about black and white pudding I'm soRRY I SAID IT YOU CAN KICK ME OUT NOW.
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How does your character spend a lazy Sunday afternoon?
Lazily lol I don't get up too late cause I know it'll throw off my routine but I like to make myself breakfast at my own pace and watch whatever I've been meaning to catch up on for days. Maybe make a trip to the grocery store and peruse the aisles at my own leisure. Come home and play some video games? If I'm gonna have a lazy day I'm gonna commit to total leisure.
What are their favorite places to go when alone?
With friends?
I like going to the park alone. Walks are nicer with a podcast to think about. I can be a part of society without actually bothering myself, it's basically perfect. If I'm with friends I like to get a drink or go play board games at someone's house, that's pretty neat.
Where would your character like to travel?
Anywhere! It would be great to take a break and just have the incentive to go somewhere and enjoy something new.
How does he or she want to get there?
Driving, flying? By boat. I don't care. I haven't found a mode of transport I've hated yet.
Does your character have preferences on types of lodging?
Not gonna lie, I'm not a roughing it kind of guy, I don't love fending for myself. I like somewhere with running water and internet at least. And no bugs. Don't like bugs.
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What are your characters favorite movies and TV shows?
I guess I like hour-long shows that I can really get invested in. Like Peaky Blinders and X-Files and stuff. I like getting immersed in the stuff I watch, which is a lot more TV than movies.
What are their favorite actors and actresses?
I like a lot of people. Peter Dinklage, Gillian Anderson, Sam Neill. A lot of people have a lot of talent. I have a fucking huge crush on Emma Thompson. That's embarrassing but she's literally so fun.
How often do they watch movies and/or television?
I usually watch TV to turn my brain off after a long day so often. Almost every evening? I usually watch something over dinner.
What genre of music would you find your character most likely listening to?
My iTunes is mostly rock, I guess.
When do they listen to music? In the car? While working?
When I'm working out. Or we play music in the ambulance sometimes when it's empty.
What artists and bands does your character enjoy listening to?
I like the Arctic Monkeys and The National and stuff like that. Stuff that I can really appreciate on noise-canceling headphones. If it can get me in my feelings I'm there.
W
ould your character go to a concert and enjoy it?
Yeah! I used to go to concerts a lot more often before but I do enjoy the experience if it's for the right band the right atmosphere.
Does your character play any musical instruments?
No. I used to play guitar when I was a kid but I lost interest ages ago.
What are his or her favorite books?
I don't read as much as I should...but I do like reading books of movies and TV shows after I watch them. When I can't get enough of the world it built it's nice to fill in the holes with the book.
What books are on his or her bookshelf at home?
A lot of my college reading material to make myself look smart to my dust bunny house guests. Plus all those movie and TV show books.
What titles does he or she borrow from the library?
I don't really go to the library. If I'm not sure enough about a book to order it online I usually don't get it at all.
What genre of books does your character enjoy reading?
Romance Fiction? Non-fiction? Thriller Crime Novels? Historical Fiction? Self-help? Poetry?
Historical fiction, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, basically any kind of fiction really. I'm here for a good, gripping story.
What is your character's favorite quote and why?
“If not us, who? If not now, when?” ― John F. Kennedy
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