my actual chairs in my house

Surprise Date

“Could you do an imagine where you and your crush have known eachother for awhile and you, him, and some of yall’s other friends are talking about dates and you describe yours and the crush takes you on the date a few days later”

So cute!! This might get confusing, but I used f/n for all the female friends and c/f/n for the guys. I had some trouble coming up with the perfect date, so I used something slightly generic to hopefully appeal to as many people as possible…feel free to criticize my poor taste! (Fun fact: I have never been on an actual date myself (gasp!) so I only have my imagination to work with, but hey when you have that who needs a real boyfriend???*cries in corner*)

Word count: 3.5k

It’s a warm Sunday night and you and your friends are hanging out at a friend’s house, lounging in chairs around a fire pit. (C/n) sits on the opposite side and you have a perfect view of him, his face lit up by the orange glow of the fire. Your other friends are between you, talking and laughing. The night is quiet except for someone playing acoustic covers on their phone.

“So, guys. I have something to tell you.” (F/n/1) rubs her hands together, grinning.

“Well, what is it?” says (f/n/2) eagerly. Always eager for gossip, that one. But you’re excited to find out too, and lean closer to hear.

“It has to do with…my crush,” she says giddily. Everyone gasps and starts asking questions excitedly. (F/n/1) laughs at the effect it has on everyone. She gives daily updates and rants about how much she likes her crush. It’s like a show that you’re all hooked on.

“What happened??” you press impatiently.

“Well…” (F/n/1) looks around the circle, drawing out the suspense. “On Friday we were walking home together after school.”

“And?” (f/n/2) urges her on.

“And…he asked me out!!” she gushes.

“No freaking way!” (f/n/2) gasps. You get out of your chair and rush over to (f/n/1), hugging her and jumping up and down together. “Holy shit (f/n/1) that’s amazing!”

(C/f/1) claps slowly, then asks, “So when is the date?”

“He didn’t actually say yet. Sometime next weekend probably.”

(F/n/2) looks shocked. “What?! He didn’t actually plan a date yet?”

“Maybe it’s a surprise,” you suggest, settling back into your chair.

(F/n/2) wrinkles her nose. “Who would want a surprise date? You have to know what’s coming so you can prepare yourself!”

You gape at her. “That’s ridiculous! A surprise would be soo romantic!”

(F/n/2) stubbornly shakes her head. “Nope. My ideal date: he tells you everything a week in advance. You go out to dinner and a movie, and he pays for everything, of course.”

“That’s it?” (f/n/1) cuts in. “My god, you are so boring!”

“And old fashioned,” (c/f/n/2) adds. “We’re not made of money, you know.”

“So, what, you expect the girl to pay?” (f/n/2) exclaims.

(C/f/n/2) shrugs. “I won’t be a dick about it but I’m open to it. If she doesn’t at least offer to split the bill she’s too cheap for me.”

“Listen, it’s simple. Whoever does the asking out is the one who pays,” (c/n) speaks up, and your ears perk up.

“That sounds fair,” you say, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” says (c/n), grinning at you. “So (y/n), what would your ideal date be?”

Your cheeks heat up a bit at his question. “Umm…”

“Yeah, tell us all about how romantic a surprise date can be,” says (f/n/2) sarcastically, then adds, “No really, tell me, I’m curious now!”

“Okay, wellll.” You sit forward in your chair and lace your fingers together. “Here’s how it goes. It’s evening, like 5, 6 maybe. I’m in my room doing my homework or something unimportant…”

“Boooriiing,” interrupts (f/n/2) with a yawn.

“Shhh,” says (f/n/1). “Let the girl talk!”

You laugh. “I haven’t gotten to the good part yet. So anyway, I hear a sound. He’s throwing rocks at my window. I open the window…”

“…and a rock hits your face,” (f/n/2) suggests.

You shoot her a look. “…and he’s standing there, nicely dressed, not in a suit or anything but, ya know, a nice shirt, pants that are just tight enough to show off his ass…”

(F/n/2) rolls her eyes. Meanwhile, (c/n) listens attentively, half amused.

“…and he tells me to put on a dress and come outside. Of course, I put on something classy with just a hint of slut, cause that’s the only way to go. When I get to the front door he gives me a rose and tells me I look beautiful. We get into his car and I ask him where we’re going and he tells me it’s a surprise. First he takes me to a pizza place, of course.”

“Romantic,” says (f/n/1) teasingly.

(C/n) looks offended. “Hey, hey, hey, pizza is as romantic as it gets!”

“Right, and who doesn’t like pizza?” you add. “So then we go to an ice cream parlor to get ice cream, and walk around just talking about life. Then we get to an empty field and lie down and look at the stars and talk some more. Finally, we make out. A lot.” You grin and sit back. “The end.”

(C/f/n/2) scoffs. “Pathetic! Even I can be more romantic than that.”

“Are you kidding, looking at the stars together is soo dreamy!” you defend yourself.

“And making out, also very dreamy,” says (c/n) with a wink.

You give him an exasperated half smile, but you feel your face warm up a little. “So…yeah. That’s pretty much my dream date,” you conclude.

“Well, now it can never happen cause it wouldn’t be a surprise!” (F/n/1) points out.

You consider that for a second. “Hey, if I’m not expecting it that’s good enough for me!”

“As much as I disagree with the concept I will be sure to tell any potential suitors exactly what to do,” says (f/n/2) with an air of incredible generosity.

“Thanks, wingwoman,” you reply with a grin.

(C/f/n/1) looks around the circle. “You’re all crazy,” he decides.

You and the other girls all flip him off simultaneously.

The next day you’re sleep deprived from the late night with your friends, and the rest of the week only gets worse. After failing two tests and pulling an all nighter for a project, you are relieved when school finally lets out on Friday and you can head home and do nothing.

You drop your backpack on the floor of your room and collapse onto your bed. Within seconds you’re out cold.

A couple hours later, you jolt awake, and then lie there for a few seconds trying to figure out what woke you up. As if on cue, a sharp sound draws your attention to your window. You stumble over groggily and push it open, not without some effort. You squint down, peering into the growing darkness that is your yard, and as your eyes adjust you gasp.

Standing there under your window, rock in one hand, rose in the other, wearing a nice shirt, perfectly fitting pants and a beautiful smile, is (c/n).

“Hey, (y/n),” he calls up quietly, but his voice carries and you hear every word with perfect clarity. And his oh-so-sexy voice, always with the hint of a smirk detectable in it - you nearly collapse all over again.

You hold steady, though, and call back down, “(C/n)?! What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to test a disputed theory,” he says by way of explanation.

Your brain struggles to wrap around this. “Wha…” you sputter in response.

He chuckles. “We’re going to see how romantic your ‘surprise date’ really is.”

A hot blush rises to your cheeks. “Oh,” you say. “Umm…”

“Put on a dress and come outside,” he says with an adorable grin.

You quickly pull your head back inside and close the window, hyperventilating. Oh. My. God. This can’t be real. Come to think of it, you’re not even sure you’re really awake. After all, it’s entirely possible you’re still in the middle of your nap and that this is just a very vivid dream attributable to your constant thoughts about (c/n). But hey, if this is a dream why not go for it and enjoy yourself while you can?

You search through your closet for something slutty but classy, a look you always strive to achieve when you have the chance. And now is as good a chance as ever to dress like a classy slut. You find the perfect choice, a cute sundress that shows just enough skin. Oh, he will love this one, you think with a sly smirk.

You pull it over your head and run downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Slipping into a pair of cute but durable sandals, you yank open the door. (C/n) is standing right there on the front porch.

You make eye contact with him and open your mouth to say something, but then he kneels dramatically and holds out his rose. “(Y/n), will you accept this rose as a token of my undying love?”

You laugh, a little shakily, and punch his shoulder indignantly. “Hey! Don’t mock me!”

He chuckles. “Okay, okay. Take this though, seriously!” He pushes the rose toward you.

You give him an exasperated look, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows. But you take the rose. “Happy?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be the happy one! Isn’t this your quintessential romantic date right here?”

“Yes, but only when you’re doing it for real!” you argue, because this is obviously a friendly joke to him. Not that you aren’t happy to go along with it. Why refuse the chance to spend one-on-one time with (c/n), and on your dream date too?

He’s still kneeling. “You can stand up now,” you inform him helpfully. “You look like an idiot.”

He complies, getting to his feet, where he towers over you once more. He smiles down at you. “You look beautiful.”

You blush fiercely at hearing him say that, but try to brush it off. He’s kidding, obviously. “And you have a good memory,” you say, because you really are impressed. He’s getting all the details right.

(C/n) frowns. “No, really, I mean it, (y/n),” he insists. “You seriously look beautiful.”

You’re at a loss for words. You try for a smile, and attempt to thank him, but the words get caught in your throat. Instead, you duck your head and make a small noise of acknowledgement.

(C/n) gestures to the car parked in your driveway. “Join me for a ride?”

You nod and follow him to his car. He opens the passenger door for you. What a gentleman! As he backs out of the driveway, he glances at you and says teasingly, “So, aren’t you gonna ask me where we’re going?”

You shake your head incredulously. “Again, I applaud your detail retention,” you say, “but if you’re so bent on following this to the letter then I already know where we’re going.”

(C/n) huffs exasperatedly. “Just cooperate, okay? Now, according to your rules, the line is, ‘Where are we going?’”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Where are we going?”

He smiles in satisfaction. “It’s a surprise,” he says happily.

“No it’s not, I know we’re getting pizza, you idiot,” you remind him.

(C/n) abruptly stops the car in the middle of the street and turns to face you. “(Y/n), if we’re going to test your theory accurately, you’re going to have to play along!”

“Oh my god, drive, there are cars behind us,” you exclaim. He starts up the car reluctantly, but presses on. “I’m not kidding! We’re gonna do this right!”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, okay, calm down. I will humor you. Your dedication is admirable, really.”

“Good. Get ready for the best date of your life,” he says proudly. “Or at least it will be, if you’re really right about this.”

Your heart flutters despite your efforts to play it cool. Yeah, this isn’t a real date, but he still called it one and that’s enough to quicken your pulse. Nevertheless, you decide to correct him. “Oh no, this is not gonna count as my first date,” you say, trying to act annoyed.

(C/n) looks over at you in surprise. “Your first date? You’ve never been on a date before?”

“Dude, we’ve been friends for years, I think I would have told you if someone miraculously was interested in me for even a second.”

He looks back at the road, grinning. “Yeah okay, I knew, just wanted to make sure you didn’t keep anything from me!” He turns to you again. “And now this will definitely be your best date so far because it’s your only one!” He laughs triumphantly.

You roll your eyes at him, but can’t hide your enjoyment at his enthusiasm. You know he’s just doing this for you as a friend, and he gets so easily excited that this is nothing special. Still, a feeling of bliss is taking over you from simply being with him, at night, in such a context as this. And you can’t help but wonder if he’ll really follow the date all the way through, right down to the very last detail…

The car stops in front of your local pizza place. You start to open the door but (c/n) lunges over and pulls your hand away. “No let me do it!” he whines, and quickly gets out of the car and opens your door for you.

“Wow, pizza, what a surprise!” You step out of the car and walk into the restaurant. (C/n) closes the car door and follows you in. You get in line to order and lean against the counter to look at (c/n).

“So, who’s paying?” you ask teasingly.

He rests an elbow on the counter, bringing him closer to you. “Well according to my rule, which I have stated before, whoever asks out, pays. I feel like it’s on you because you started all of this with your silly date idea.”

You raise your eyebrows in an Oh really? expression. “Did I ask you to actually take me out?”

He leans even closer. “I think it’s fair to say that you did, silently. You were looking at me longingly. That was obviously your way of asking me out.” He grins, proud of his logic.

“Right, of course,” you say sarcastically, although your heartbeat is picking up again. “I think you misinterpreted my glares of annoyance.”

He chuckles. “Don’t even try to deny it. You want me,” he says dramatically.

“Oh baby,” you reply in a breathy soap-opera voice.

(C/n) wiggles his eyebrows and you break character to laugh at how ridiculous he looks. “Okay but seriously, I didn’t bring any money, which is your fault for rushing me,” you say accusingly.

“Well that’s a problem, because I didn’t bring any either,” he replies, shrugging.

“(C/n)!” you exclaim, glancing at the shrinking line of customers in front of you.

He breaks into a grin. “Kidding.” He holds up a twenty dollar bill. “Of course I’ll pay.”

You order two plain slices and a soda to share. When the food comes you sit down across from each other at a small table - (c/n) pulling out your chair for you - and munch hungrily on your pizza.

“So,” (c/n) says between bites, “is your dream date meeting expectations so far?”

“I’d say it’s subpar, but that’s your fault for poor execution. The idea is still romantic.” You can’t help teasing him a little. He’ll have to work for your approval.

“What!” he protests. “I have been such a gentleman!”

Such a gentleman,” you echo mockingly, and he pouts. You relent. “Okay, you’re really trying, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you,” he says, still in a hurt tone of voice.

“So what about you?” you ask after a moment’s hesitation.


“How does this measure up to other dates you’ve been on?”

(C/n) smiles, stuffs the last bite of pizza in his mouth and stands up. “Ahh, so much to tell you. Maybe this is a discussion we should have over some ice cream?”


You head across the street and buy an ice cream cone each. As you walk aimlessly around town (c/n) recounts tales of his past dating escapades; some awkward, some boring, some downright disastrous, and a few that sound almost enjoyable. “Personally none of those sound as romantic as mine,” you comment some twenty minutes in.

“Well…” he tilts his head pensively. “I guess this one’s not terrible, though I wouldn’t call it my ‘dream date’ either.”

“Hey, it’s not over yet,” you point out.

“Right,” he says with renewed enthusiasm. “Field! And look, the stars are out. Perfect.”

“Yeah, now we just need the actual field,” you remind him.

He smirks. “Way ahead of you. Did you really think I wouldn’t plan this out to completion?”

“You’re right, how could I be so foolish?” you joke.

(C/n) leads you to a somewhat secluded park with a large grassy area, hidden from the general public by a cluster of trees. Together, you walk over to the middle of the field. (C/n) sits down and pats the ground next to him invitingly. You laugh lightly and join him, lying back to look up at the sky. It’s wonderfully cloudless and clear, revealing hundreds of stars in clusters and constellations. (C/n) points upward. “That one looks like a dick,” he remarks.

You elbow him. “Killing the mood,” you complain.

“My bad,” he says, turning on his side to face you and propping his head up on his elbow. He picks at a blade of grass inches from your face. “I admit the stars do add a certain romantic element to it all.”

“See, it takes a masterful combination of different elements to really create the perfect date,” you say with an air of superiority.

“Says the girl who’s never even been on one,” he teases, flicking pieces of grass onto your face. You spit one out of your mouth and whack him clumsily with the back of your hand. He catches your hand with both of his and starts twiddling with your fingers, a strange but not entirely unpleasant sensation.

“Anyway,” he continues, “it’s almost time for my verdict.”


“Yeah.” (C/n) places the palm of his hand on yours, lining up your fingers. “Your hands are tiny.”

You roll your eyes. “Yours are just extra large. Verdict about what?”

“How romantic this whole ‘surprise date’ thing really was, of course,” he replies. “I followed all your instructions, so this is, like, legit.”

“Uh huh.”

“There’s just one part left,” he says quietly, locking eyes with you.

Your heart races in anticipation. “Oh yeah, what’s that?” you ask innocently.

(C/n) smirks. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he answers in an incredibly sexy voice, and you’re suddenly worried that you’ll faint before anything even happens. Noticing your paralyzed expression, he chuckles, then bites his lip seductively as though he’s actively trying to make it worse. “Do I need to show you?”

With the last scrap of courage you can muster, you nod. (C/n) looks down at your mouth and back at you before leaning in and closing the gap. Your lips collide and his hands go to your face, his thumbs grazing your cheeks. Soon enough he’s on top of you, forearms on either side of your head. And, just as you foretold, you make out. A lot.

When you finally break apart God knows how much later, your faces are flushed, hair mussed up and breathing heavy. As you catch your breath (c/n) says, “I officially approve of this date idea. The last part is the best, hands down.”

“Is it?” you say, aware of the furious beating of your heart.

“Well, the rest was fun too.” He moves a strand of hair out of your face. “Can I tell you something?”


“I wasn’t actually trying to prove anything or test your theory or whatever, I just wanted to go on a date with you,” he confesses.

You laugh giddily. “Really?”

“Really,” he says seriously. “I’ve liked you basically forever.”

“No way, me too!” you exclaim, in a casual tone that even surprises yourself.

He examines your expression. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.” You smile reassuringly.

He breaks into a grin. “In that case the only logical solution is for you to agree to be my girlfriend, right now.”

“Oh damn that’s a tough one,” you say jokingly. “I guess maaaaybee-”

(C/n) rolls his eyes and shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours once more.

because i like to make myself sad, a list of things i would like in an actual fantasy life sequel

  • no gendered clothing!!
  • option for romance, but not necessary for progression [i like my aromantic characters thanks]. but only if:
  • same sex romance options [please i want to marry olivia]
  • ability to talk to NPCs while they’re in your party
  • bigger world, old locations but also new ones [maybe the old locations available from the start and you have to unlock the others with the story]– best for wii u/nx release
  • objects in houses actually being usable [chairs! why can’t i sit on my chairs?]
  • more clothing and furniture crafts in general
  • more lives– like performer, gardener, and the other scrapped lives [i don’t remember what they were, mailman? but there were 16 originally]
  • actual weather/seasons? i like the day/night cycle but i’d like to feel like time is actually changing
  • being able to help the poor lost mailman
the signs as quotes from tyler joseph
  • aries: it's shrimp in a bag! 0:
  • taurus: dude, get back on the bed - i mean couch. we're not lying on a bed together in our underwear.
  • gemini: i'mma let you finish, but josh dun is the best drummer
  • cancer: i actually never leave my house
  • leo: winter is coming
  • virgo: josh is an adorable napper
  • libra: like i'm singing this song that i wrote for my mother and there's some guy in a full body gingerbread man suit getting crowdsurfed to the front
  • scorpio: this is not normal at all. and i like that.
  • sagittarius: so i sit back in my emo chair with my emo slippers on in the middle of winter and i'm just like, "this is absolute garbage."
  • capricorn: i thought the boyfriend said something, but it turns out it was just the turtletop rattling in the wind, barely hanging onto the top of our Kia
  • aquarius: ew, dude, i don't think i could dig that, like if i looked over while you were drumming and you just had these honking nipples
  • pisces: love you merm
Companions as Gayle Waters-Waters quotes

Aka: the only companions post that actually matters


Piper: “A veagan that husky? What’s fueling that ass? Sweet potatoes? A poltergeist?”


Cait: “it’s my birthday so that means my family has to watch me do crunches”

Codsworth: “Well I’ve got news for you asshole, I’ve rigged that couscous with C4 So when I go, it goes”

Hancock: “So I black out from the rage and come to covered head to toe in hollandaise sauce. All that stress led me to treat myself like a buttery potato dish, and the only thing that could calm me down was a Dutch cream sauce”


MacCready: “I CAN’T HAVE THAT THING IN MY COMMUNITY. ‘Oh, how do you get to maccready’s house?’ Just take a left at the chody pine, but try not to throw up. Because it looks like A LEAN CUISINE”

Danse: “let’s get one thing straight, I’m like a kangaroo. My first line of defense is my legs. So there’s no easy way to say this, but I rolled my ankle at the Yanni concert. I rushed the stage, and I paid the price.”


Nick Valentine: “Why you smilin’ like that, who are you, Orphan Annie? Now why don’t you go Google Image search pictures of Helen Hunt, and let me live my life?”

Strong: “Oh, you’re from the bay area? I don’t give a shit. I’m from New England, LOOK AT MY FLEECE. I MAKE A HAM LUNCH, YOU’RE EATING IT.”

X6-88: “The last time I went to Trader Joe’s, I almost threw up from how much fake fun the employees were having. If I wanted to have fun while I shopped, I’d bring a razor scooter”

Dogmeat: “I meet a man like Mark, and I get the impression that he’s wet his pants on every continent”

peachbxmber  asked:


  • 🐋- share a Weird/funny story?

Hi’a, princess! I don’t have many stories, because ironically, my life isn’t that eventful, but I suppose this story is a little funny. Several years ago, my mother and I were cleaning the porch of our old house, sweeping away leaves and rearranging patio chairs and tables. In the act of moving the trash can to its proper place, we’d come to notice this giant praying mantis sitting on the edge of the lid, chilling. My mom had me run into the house to grab the camera, and so I did, and we recorded a video of the strange little bug. See now, this video actually exists! But it’s on my mom’s old Facebook, of which nobody has access to anymore, so I don’t think I can get it for you.

That aside, we were recording the praying mantis doing its own little thing, up until my mom said, “I hope it doesn’t jump on the camera”. You can pretty much assume that’s exactly what happened. My mom has an irrational fear of bugs, whether they have wings or weird legs. So, naturally, she screams and shuts off the camera, dropping the camera as soon as it was off and breaking the lens. Nobody was hurt and the praying mantis got away safely, but we still look back on the story and laugh from time to time!


CS AU Week 2016 Day 3 - Beloved Tropes: Coffee Shop AU

Hello, CS shipmates! For the third day of CS AU Week, I’m sharing screencaps of the responsive website I made for my web design course during the spring semester. We had to create a food/drink establishment and design its website with Home, About, Menu, and Gallery pages. Since fandoms own my life, I got permission to make one for Captain Swan, and so The Cygnus Café was born.

All four pages have the header image and footer information, though I don’t show that in these screenshots to make this post shorter. Also the picture in the header, the mantle picture on the About page, and the Gallery picture with the chairs, I took myself in my house, and I actually designed the logo with MS PowerPoint autoshapes. The other pictures are not mine because we had permission to use Google for educational purposes, and I’m not sure where I saved the document with the credits at the moment to post them here, but I will link them if/when I find it.

Another note: the two different screenshots of the gallery are there to show that the responsive nature of the site allows the layout to be modified when opened in smaller browsers. Our professor uploaded them to her own running website because she had the server space, but I’m not posting the link because she’s supposed to take them back down soon if she hasn’t done so already.

I hope you enjoy it, and there will be more to come this week. :)

The Girl from Rawblood by Catriona Ward


Ghosts! Ghosts! Ghosts!

I love the supernatural, the haunted, the creepy. My favourite films to watch on a rainy day are horror films about the things that go bump in the night. I love playing with the Ouija board, and even though I’m a complete skeptic I won’t allow it in my own house. Despite loving being creeped out, I like to do it from my couch and would probably be the very last person to go into an actual haunted house. So when I got the chance to read The Girl from Rawblood by Catriona Ward, I did a little happy dance in my chair because I was so ready to be scared by a good ol’ gothic novel.

Keep reading


used my chair and left the house yesterday for the first time this week, and i was actually able to go shopping and later go to an event at my local lgbtq+ center despite not feeling completely up to it (but when do i ever really, tbh).  i kind of almost felt like my old self before the pain and fatigue completely took over my social life!  i mean, i overdid it still and won’t be leaving my heated blanket today, but it was worth it.

still debating on whether i like the arms on or off.

anonymous asked:

Ozpin and Ironwood (also, if anyone sends in villains for the meme, feel free to ship them with various forms of pain)

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
best quality: always has a plan 
worst quality: uses children to carry out his plans
ship them with: dick chair (im kidding), coffee
brotp them with: Qrow, Ironwood, Glynda 

needs to stay away from: his students? (shipping wise)
misc. thoughts: I still think his “death” is BS cause if he is supposed to be powerful being that is so important than he should have been able to defeat Cinder. Also I get Dumbledore vibes from him and based on the way he kinda forced Pyrrha to become a maiden (or at least made her feel like she had no other choice) I don’t trust him as much as I used to

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
best quality: He wants to save the world so much/ has 2 seats on the council 
worst quality: has not killed Jacque yet/ has not adopted Weiss yet
ship them with: Qrow, a good night sleep
brotp them with: Glynda, Ozpin, Winter

needs to stay away from: harm, he already lost half of his body he cant loose the other half
misc. thoughts: where is Penny James, where is she. im also worried that he’s gonna push himself too far and make a mistake and get taken off the council and loose power of Atlas and Jacque will end up running the kingdom into the ground


Not much has happened this week/last week. BUT I did get a wheel chair Friday and I get to walk with simplicity to her school Monday! i missed it due to being on bed rest but my Dr approved Monday in a wheel chair with Sam pushing of course. and I am pretty excited (: 

I am 30 weeks! almost there Ill be having my gender reveal/baby shower in October some time so i’m going to get scheduling that prolly later this week! yay lol

now that simplicity goes to school, its kinda pitiful actually lol Eleanor walks around the house saying Simplicity’s name, she cant say her name yet so it just comes out “sissy” and I feel so bad but she does play really well by her self so its really good^-^

thanks for reading! hope your week is off to a great start!

sherlock starting to spend a lot of time at bart’s post-s3 to keep himself out of the house and away from john’s empty chair. meeting a new lab technician there and being too listless and burned out to bother ripping him to shreds with deductions. as a result, the man actually chats to him. first of all it’s talk about the weather and the traffic and last night’s telly and sherlock doesn’t care, but the technician’s perceptive, notices he’s losing his audience and turns talk to the equipment in the labs, recent technological advances and prototype kit being tested abroad and what they each specialised in at Uni to earn their degree and suddenly sherlock finds himself talking shop with a fellow chemist and it’s new. it’s good. gradually, he finds himself less bothered whenever talk turns to trivia. there’s something refreshing about that part, too.

the man’s name is Jacob, which is a useless name, “Jake” is even worse and he tells him so on one of his less charitable days, but it doesn’t get him much more than a laugh and the suggestion of a lab coat if he wants to avoid losing his suit to dangerous chemicals. weeks go on like this until one day he’s invited out for a drink when the work day’s over and usually he wouldn’t go, god knows, god knows usually he’d dismiss it out of hand but there’s no case on and it’s getting harder and harder to be at home.

one drink. keeping up conversation with him outside of a common environment isn’t actually especially difficult. two drinks. he’s plain, lives an entirely boring life outside of the labs (and a mediocre one at best within them) but he’s a couple of inches taller than sherlock and a couple of years younger and his hair is chestnut brown and he’s of lean build and his surname is Keele not Wallace or Weston and almost nothing about him is anything like– “Jacob” can’t be helped. and anyway, one shared initial should not a reminder make.

there’s been interest there from the start, sherlock isn’t blind to the signs, and after the third drink he thinks he might go home with him. “… do you want to call it a night?” perceptive. right, yes, he’s perceptive. sherlock had forgotten. he’ll have to be more careful of that in the future.

he doesn’t go home with him that night, but it doesn’t take them too much longer.

john popping around to 221b for the first time in a week and a half, all apologies and dark bags under his eyes and finding sherlock just as distracted as he always is. being here is getting harder and harder. sherlock’s more distant with every visit and coming over at all is a catch twenty two: john knows what the problem is, it’s the same thing that keeps him up all night and away for longer and longer and it isn’t going away, but he doesn’t want to go away either. can’t stand to keep his distance.

he asks the customary “alright?”, gets the customary grunt. sherlock heads to the kitchen to sort out the customary cup of tea and he hates this, he honestly does. customary. jesus. time was they were the least customary people he’s ever known. john asks him what he’s been up to and sherlock dutifully recounts his week in enough detail that he can hear the elephant trumpeting in the brief quiet between each sentence. the two minute summary amounts to “nothing much,” and so he searches the flat for any hope of something more promising to talk about before sherlock feels compelled to ask the inevitable question– he finds it. a jacket of unknown origin laying over the arm of the sofa.

“client forgot their coat?” sherlock seems confused until john points it out to him - the fog clears, but the odd expression left behind puts john on edge. “oh. no.” “… it doesn’t look like it’s your style.” “no. it’s not mine.” “right.” sherlock pauses for a moment, assesses him - presumably trying to work out how likely he is to drop it if sherlock doesn’t give him what he’s after - and turns back to the tea. “it’s jacob’s.” “jacob’s.” “yes,” john stays silent, and the pause pregnant with a question he doesn’t really feel the need to ask. eventually, sherlock starts up again, “he’s a lab technician at barts.”

a lab technician at bart’s. right. a lab technician at bart’s that john hasn’t met but sherlock has deigned both to speak to and remember the name of. …unless that isn’t actually his name at all but some vague approximation of what his name might be if sherlock had actually been listening when he told him. poor sod. “you leave something at the lab?” “no.” sherlock isn’t really getting the hang of leading questions today. “steal his coat when he botched up your blood samples?” “no.” sherlock turns with the tea, brushes past him to set the mugs down, one on john’s chairside table and one on the desk. he stops with his back to him, falls silent, and it’s not until now that john realises his hands are in fists.

“he came over for dinner.”

what? “–for takeaway, actually. i didn’t cook.” john hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “must have left it behind when he went. i didn’t notice.” it’s noon. sherlock notices everything. if this lab technician had been heading to leave without his coat after dinner, he would have noticed. the coat wouldn’t be here. john takes a closer look at sherlock’s turned back, becomes aware of the lack of his usual grooming, the sleep-mussed state of his hair. sherlock turns his head, turns it almost far enough to look back at john over his shoulder–

he pulls out a chair and sits down. john can’t move. he can’t move an inch. silence reigns, seconds stretch, all it still.

sherlock picks up his mug and turns the page of a newspaper. it almost looks casual. the almost is everything.

“how’s the baby?”

If you’re looking for a motivation to get up and walk around which is not Pokémon GO...

There is pretty much an adult version of Pokémon GO built into Google Maps.

Instead of throwing Pokéballs you contribute information, take pictures of store fronts, fill in missing opening hours, phone numbers, you correct names, map markers, mark which places aren’t actually there, have moved, closed…

I have a hard time getting motivated to get my ass up from my chair and leave the house myself; but helping make a service better for everyone is pretty cool. Taking pictures is kind of fun. Sure, it’s still contributing to a giant megacorp’s database, but at least it’s somewhat more useful, not just to you but your town.

You also get experience points and unlock features like early access to Google products or free Google Drive storage the more you contribute. In a way, the YouTube Heroes thing that was recently unveiled is their version of this.