#and i really do love all of the art and stories

[fragileheartbeats]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

♡ ⭒ㅤ𓈒 ベビードール ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ㅤ྄

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐻 𝑆 𝑅 𝑀 𝑒 𝑛 𝑥 𝐹 𝑒 𝑚 𝑅 𝑒 𝑎 𝑑 𝑒 𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤ𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘋𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘨, 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦 <3

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! I got this idea after seeing some cute arts of them as baby dolls like Pinocchio and honestly that was so cute and I just had to write something about it. Also you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 | 丹恒 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

You gently braided his long, silky hair, carefully weaving in tiny flowers to adorn his cute horns. He sat beside you, his eyes fixed on the floor, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "You look beautiful," you said, admiring your handiwork. He stiffened slightly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. "I-I-I'm not beautiful," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. You chuckled softly, reaching out to gently pat his head. "Oh, but you are. You're the most adorable creature I've ever laid eyes on." He shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his fingers. "Y-you really think so?" "Of course!" You exclaimed, unable to contain your affection for him. "You're precious, and so so adorable." He glanced up at you, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of something else I couldn't quite place. "Th-thank you," he murmured shyly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You smiled back, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "You're welcome, my little darling."

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 | 星期日 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

You were sitting on the sofa with your doll, his soft, silky gray hair cascading over his shoulders and his golden eyes twinkling with warmth. His cute wings fluttered slightly as he spoke, his angelic voice filling the room with a soothing melody. "I read a lovely story today," he said, the tiny wings on his head twitching with excitement. He gently held your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "It was about an angel who fell in love with a human." "Oh? That sounds interesting," you replied, smiling as you gently stroked his delicate wings. "Tell me more about it." He shifted closer, his small body practically vibrating with excitement. "The angel was very dignified and benevolent, just like all angels are supposed to be. But he couldn't help falling for a human who was kind and beautiful." You listened intently, your heart swelling with affection for this little creature who always tried to help you and make you happy. He continued, his voice filled with wonder and a happiness. "The angel admired her from afar, always wanting to be near her, to protect her. And even though he was an angel, he felt very much like a human when he was with her." As he spoke, you couldn't help but notice the way his golden eyes sparkled, the way his small hands clung to yours just a bit tighter. "You know," he said shyly, "the woman in the story was described as beautiful. And... I think you look just like her." You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Oh, do I now?" He nodded earnestly, his cheeks turning a rosy pink. "Yes, you do. You're beautiful, just like the woman in the story." Touched by his sincerity, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Thank you, my little angel. You're very sweet." His wings fluttered happily, and he let out a soft, contented sigh. "I'm glad you think so." You continued to gently pamper his wings, feeling their soft feathers beneath your fingers. "You know, I think the angel in the story was very lucky to find someone so wonderful to love." He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering with emotion. "I think so too," he whispered, his voice filled with happiness.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 砂金 ─ 𓐐𓎩 . ♡𝆬

As you sat on the floor of your cozy living room, your doll with his hat perched atop his head bounced excitedly in front of you. He was full of energy, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he eagerly shuffled the deck of cards for your game. "Alright, little darling, ready to play some cards?" you asked with a smile, reaching out to ruffle his soft hair. He nodded eagerly, his tiny hands practically vibrating with excitement. "Yep! I'm gonna win all the candy!" he declared, determination shining in his eyes. You chuckled at his enthusiasm, knowing full well that he had a knack for winning every game he played. But you were happy to indulge him, enjoying the playful competition between the two of you. Sure enough, as the game progressed, he seemed to have luck on his side, winning hand after hand with a gleeful grin on his face. Each time he triumphed, he would let out a delighted squeal, his joy infectious. Finally, when the game was over, he proudly gathered up his winnings – a colorful array of candy that he had won fair and square. With a triumphant whoop, he rushed over to you, his arms laden with sweets. "Look what I got, look what I got!" he exclaimed, plopping down on your lap and nestling his head against your chest like a contented kitten. You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his hair as he eagerly tore open the wrappers and began to devour his prize. Between bites, he began to chatter excitedly, his words tumbling out in a rush as he shared his dreams and aspirations with you. "I wanna see the world with you, and try all sorts of fun stuff together!" he exclaimed between mouthfuls of candy. "We can go on adventures and play games and eat lots and lots of candy! And no matter where we go, I'll always stay by your side." You smiled at his enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through your heart at his infectious excitement. "That sounds like a wonderful plan, little darling." As he continued to talk, his words slowly growing quieter as sleep began to tug at his eyelids, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the adorable little doll nestled in your arms.

"I...I love you," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, whispering softly, "I love you too, little one. I'll never leave you." With a contented sigh, he snuggled closer to you, his breathing growing steady and even as he drifted off to sleep. You held him close, rocking him gently as you listened to the soft sound of his breathing, feeling grateful for the precious moments you shared together.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 | 真理医生 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

As you were chopping vegetables, your hand slipped, and you accidentally cut yourself. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, and you quickly grabbed a paper towel to stop the bleeding. Hearing the noise, he looked up from his book, his frown deepening when he saw you holding your hand. "What did you do now, you idiot?" he snapped, hopping down from his chair and marching over to you. You winced but couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "I cut myself," you admitted, showing him the small, bleeding wound. He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Of course you did. You really are stupid sometimes." Despite his harsh words, he gently took your hand and led you to the sink. He carefully washed the cut, his tiny hands surprisingly gentle and precise. He grumbled the entire time, but there was a softness in his touch that belied his words. After cleaning the wound, he fetched a bandage from the first aid kit. "Hold still," he ordered, his cheeks slightly pink as he concentrated on wrapping the bandage around your finger. His little frown was adorable, and you couldn't help but find his concern endearing. Once he was done, he let go of your hand and stepped back, crossing his arms and glaring at you. "There. Try not to be so careless next time." You chuckled, touched by his care despite his prickly demeanor. "Thank you," you said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. His eyes widened, and his face turned a deep shade of red. "W-what are you doing? Idiot!" he stuttered, his usual cold exterior crumbling in the face of his embarrassment. He turned on his heel and bolted out of the kitchen, his little legs carrying him quickly to his room. You couldn't help but laugh, watching him go.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 | 刃 ─ 𖤣𖥧 . ♡𝆬

As you cried softly, you didn't notice him coming down from his room, his stomach probably leading him in search of food. He stood there for a moment, watching you with his big, expressive eyes. Then, breaking the silence, he spoke in his soft, almost whisper-like voice. "Why are you crying?" You jumped, startled by his unexpected presence. "Oh! You scared me," you said, quickly wiping your tears away and trying to compose yourself. He ignored your response and came to sit beside you on the couch, his cat plushie nestled under one arm and his sword balanced on his lap. His eyes, filled with concern, searched your face. "Why are you crying?" he repeated, his tone more insistent. You sighed, knowing you couldn't hide your feelings from him. "I just had a really bad day," you admitted, your voice trembling. He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly and tentatively, he reached out and caressed your head with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Everything will be okay," he said quietly. His touch shocked you—it was the first time he had ever initiated contact. You blinked, tears still pooling in your eyes, but now for a different reason. His small hand, though a bit awkward, was incredibly comforting. "Thank you," you whispered, the warmth of his touch soothing your troubled heart. He nodded, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink, though his face remained mostly stoic. "Don't cry anymore," he said, his voice a little firmer, though there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. You couldn't help but smile through your tears. "I'll try," you promised. He nodded again and then, much to your surprise, settled closer to you, his cat plushie pressed between the two of you. He didn't say anything more, but his presence was enough to lift your spirits.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fluff #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #doll au #dan heng fluff #dan heng #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday fluff #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine fluff #ratio x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade fluff #hsr x you #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #dan heng imagines

[ornii]

Hey, I've enjoyed reading your stories, so thank you for writing them.

Would you consider writing a Wednesday Addams x Male Reader story where Wednesday is the one who decides to ask Reader out?

I can't help but picture Wednesday deciding to try and emulate Gomez's way of showing affection, just with her twist. She's doing everything that Gomez would do for Morticia, for Male Reader, and he thinks she's just a really nice person?

Or I feel she just walks up to Reader and informs him they're dating now (he's also into her ofc)

Un amor profundo

Miss Addams felt a sensation that made her feel, alive? Who knew that was even possible.

Sculpting, the art of turning rock, stone, marble, into art. You although could turn the art into living pieces of work. Like God himself you breathed life into your creations, even if their life is short lived. You gently chipped away at another statue, this one of a raging Wolf howling at the moon. Weems gave you space in a short clearing you made into a sort of work area. A few tools, pieces of marble, obsidian, and onyx around. And that space just so happened to perfectly be seen from the large window in one of the girls’ dorms. Almost as if Weems did this on purpose, but it wasn’t here, it was Wednesday.

She was staring hard out the window at You. This wasn’t like her to be so interested in the activities of another person. Unless they’re a serial killer of course. The jingle of the door went though the room and it opened, and Enid Peeked in. Wednesday quickly turned around, having a fantastic Poker face. “Enid, what are you doing here?” She asked, and Enid raised an eyebrow. “Uh.. I live here?” She responded confused.

“Right.. how unfortunate.” Wednesday grumbled. Enid walked to her side. “Are.. you okay? You seem, stuck.” Enid asks. “I’m fine.” Wednesday responded, but it wasn’t unlike her. Enid, lacking more of rational sense but definitely a social butterfly, picks up on the awkwardness. She took the initiative and walked closer to Wednesday and looked at the window. All she saw was you chipping away at the wolfs’ paws.

“Oh, it’s the new guy… why are you looking at him like that?” Enid said, as Wednesday jerks her eyes that were glued to you away.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean.” Wednesday lies, and Enid gasps.

“Oh.. M.. G.. Wednesday?” Enid smiles

“Don’t say it..” Wednesday’s brow furrowed.

“Are you…”

“Enid, I am warning you..”

“In LOVE?!”

“Wednesdays clenched her jaw but had no response, Enid was actually dumbfounded. “This is… I’m actually in disbelief.. how long? Do you think he’s cute? Did you ask him yet?” Enid pestered her with questions that Wednesday wasn’t emotionally prepared to answer. Her silence though spoke enough, and Enid came to a halt. “You never spoke to him, have you?” She already knew the answer by Wednesday’s silence. Enid puts her hands on her hips in a very serious manner.

“Alright, let’s fix that!”

You finally finished the Wolf of Wall Street. A wolf standing over the crushed New York in rubble and concrete. As you knelt down and gently whispered into its ear. It howled to the sun, and then went back to a stone statue. Seems another successful work. You heard the approaching of footsteps and you turned around to face it, and darkness stood before you, but it’s never looked so pretty.

Wednesday, like a brewing storm stood there waiting for you to respond, as if she has something to say. You’ve seen her around Class and.. always felt like someone was watching you. Maybe it was here, you stood up and slightly towered over her.

“Hello?” You asked, and offered a handshake. “I’m—“ you started by Wednesday took a scary leap, she took your hand and you looked into her piercing eyes.

“(Y/n) (L/n) I know, I’ve been watching you, waiting for this moment to build the courage and willpower to Admit that you crept your way into the deepest depths of my mind and have made my black heart skip a beat. You single-handedly made me realize that I am capable of, loving someone. Therefore I.. humbly request if I could.. call you my Querida, my Darling..”. You stared at her eyes, actually bewildered by the passionate but absolutely wild love confession. Enid, Watching from the corner was having an out of body experience, as she told Wednesday just to ask for your number.

You felt her hand shake, a slight quiver in her lip, she was.. afraid. Wednesday from what you knew wasn’t afraid of anything, serial killers, Hydes, The Gates.. but asking a boy out made her so, terrified. Because you could do the one thing none of them could, make her feel, vulnerable. You smiled, seeing the actual worry in her eye, and you gently took her hand with your other. And spoke, “Por supuesto mi amor.” (Of Course, My Love.) you replied, her eyes bat for a moment and her black heart skipped a beat. Wednesday looked down. Unsure of what to do now.

“I.. didn’t expect to get this far.” She admits, you hide your laugh and side step. “You.. wanna see my stone wolf?” You asked, she looked up to face you once more, and the smallest smile was on her face.

“I.. wouldn’t hate that..” she said, and that was more than enough for you.

#male reader #netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #reader insert #wednesday addams x reader #wedensday x you #enid sinclair

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+

a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).

i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(

also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”

“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”

“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”

“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”

Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground. 

She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere. 

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.” 

You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.” 

Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.

You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it? 

“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”

You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes. 

“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”

When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment. 

“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves. 

“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out. 

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present. 

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went? 

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .  

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot. 

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone. 

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult. 

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you. 

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.” 

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard. 

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together. 

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.” 

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question. 

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully. 

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance. 

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began. 

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details. 

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with. 

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake. 

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind. 

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered. 

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning. 

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced. 

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . . 

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly. 

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . . 

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace? 

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special. 

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front. 

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body. 

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident. 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain. 

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.” 

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this. 

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way. 

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more. 

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for  Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending. 

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes. 

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed. 

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .” 

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms. 

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles. 

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.” 

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.” 

My safe place. 

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had  some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.” 

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.” 

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin. 

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow. 

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds. 

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . . 

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp. 

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .” 

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you. 

My lavender. 

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time. 

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands. 

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone. 

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was. 

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing. 

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief. 

This was safe. This was home. 

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there. 

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.” 

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became. 

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm. 

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity. 

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.” 

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed. 

It was time. 

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender. 

Home, you thought. He looks like home. 

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him. 

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer. 

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . . 

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . . 

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it. 

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white. 

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table. 

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.  

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat. 

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing. 

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there. 

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick. 

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board. 

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame. 

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear. 

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely. 

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that. 

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here. 

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie. 

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it. 

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room. 

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet. 

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past? 

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch. 

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option. 

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair. 

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye. 

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine. 

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket. 

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks. 

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy. 

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation. 

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . . 

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out. 

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away. 

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head. 

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble. 

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . . 

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed. 

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . . 

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl. 

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them. 

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers. 

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was. 

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you. 

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped. 

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . . 

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes,  even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . . 

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious. 

The fury, pointed towards you. 

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you. 

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you. 

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen. 

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . . 

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed. 

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan. 

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity. 

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran. 

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother. 

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . . 

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary. 

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe. 

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer. 

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump.  But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake. 

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . . 

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place. 

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box. 

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all. 

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box. 

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon. 

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present. 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes. 

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay. 

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes. 

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle. 

Your heart monitor. 

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . . 

And then you remembered. 

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic. 

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane. 

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red. 

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help. 

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you. 

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other. 

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under. 

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree. 

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point. 

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone. 

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance. 

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back. 

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended. 

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace. 

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in. 

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most. 

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand. 

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake. 

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him. 

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better. 

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye. 

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake. 

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be. 

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders,  Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack. 

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end. 

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times. 

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all. 

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories. 

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion. 

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze. 

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness. 

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you. 

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him. 

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly. 

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare. 

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story. 

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation. 

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day. 

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day. 

The car stayed silent for a few beats. 

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful. 

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.” 

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . . 

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought. 

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion. 

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end. 

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth. 

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo. 

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . . 

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight. 

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . . 

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories. 

Now was not the time. 

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit. 

Music. You needed music. 

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’.  I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.” 

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . . 

You were just hormonal and emotional. 

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you. 

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . . 

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts. 

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment. 

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses. 

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . . 

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it 

I'm emotional 

This is your fault 

Please listen when I say 

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him. 

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours. 

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.) 

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest. 

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw. 

The OB office. 

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him. 

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could. 

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark. 

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely. 

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right? 

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason. 

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further. 

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?” 

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked. 

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear. 

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.” 

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek. 

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body. 

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in. 

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her. 

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful. 

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now. 

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud. 

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips. 

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy. 

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone. 

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest. 

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat. 

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling. 

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex. 

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you. 

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night. 

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space. 

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him. 

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip. 

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . . 

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . . 

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.” 

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features. 

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it. 

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak. 

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . . 

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way. 

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment. 

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed. 

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long. 

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you. 

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home. 

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped. 

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day. 

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR. 

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent. 

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . . 

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped. 

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet. 

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh. 

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed. 

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature. 

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . . 

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair. 

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . . 

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind. 

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist. 

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . . 

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black. 

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen. 

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.  

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times. 

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake. 

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there. 

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify. 

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go. 

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so. 

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest. 

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. 

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . . 

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole. 

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks. 

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off. 

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . . 

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him. 

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?” 

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal. 

Pleasant surprise. 

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass. 

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare. 

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . . 

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it. 

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation. 

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips. 

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left. 

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys. 

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions. 

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay. 

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door. 

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused. 

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you. 

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?” 

You didn’t say that last word. Nope. 

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words. 

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit? 

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again. 

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally. 

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace. 

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away. 

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug. 

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . . 

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard. 

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated. 

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways. 

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could. 

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct. 

You wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom. 

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him. 

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame. 

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go. 

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. 

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago. 

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you. 

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man. 

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it. 

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off. 

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him. 

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck. 

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them. 

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light. 

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal. 

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked. 

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep. 

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way. 

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out. 

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right? 

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare. 

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . . 

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell? 

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . . 

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you. 

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week. 

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . . 

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment. 

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?” 

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . . 

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him. 

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him. 

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at. 

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks. 

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion. 

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass. 

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt. 

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass. 

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy. 

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face. 

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes. 

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name. 

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him. 

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own. 

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake. 

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer. 

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes. 

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . . 

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy. 

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear. 

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore. 

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow. 

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. 

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. 

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. 

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. 

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. 

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near. 

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts. 

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns. 

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him. 

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time. 

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged. 

Stars. You saw so many stars. 

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now. 

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?”  He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word. 

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you. 

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body. 

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck. 

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have. 

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.) 

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer. 

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself. 

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him. 

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind. 

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state. 

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.” 

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell. 

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit. 

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food. 

But he was right there. . . 

No. 

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes. 

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door. 

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit. 

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder. 

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.  

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed. 

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious. 

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake. 

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.  

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system. 

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones. 

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked. 

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice. 

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle. 

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck. 

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell? 

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all. 

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake. 

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it. 

 You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again. 

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal. 

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room. 

Well. 

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated. 

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk. 

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined? 

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you. 

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . . 

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle. 

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling. 

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy. 

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly. 

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell. 

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it. 

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight. 

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby. 

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times. 

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight. 

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him. 

It was heaven. That was what it was. 

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair.  “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence. 

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to. 

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago. 

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . . 

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. 

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible. 

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss. 

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring. 

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night. 

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022 

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday. 

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic. 

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. 

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid. 

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.” 

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands. 

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips. 

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room. 

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing. 

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day. 

You, speaking of love. 

Jake, mentioning multiple kids. 

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you. 

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean? 

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though. 

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words. 

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen. 

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it. 

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so. 

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment. 

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . . 

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement. 

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @stardustjake, @indigostreaksolo, @tripthelightfantastix, @kiszkas-canvas, @jakebrainrot, @anthemheatwave

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #chapter 11 might be a top three fav chapter for me... #part 3 is when some shit goes downnn #ruh roh #hehe

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 5

Patrick is not stupid. He knows what he feels for everyone in his life. For example, he kind of hates his parents. And he knows it’s privileged to hate your parents when you’re a rich, white man in your early twenties. But he hates the fact that there was never any laughter in his house. The meals were always quiet. The stories were always boring. The people who came to visit were always the same people. That's why he clung so much to summer vacations at Art’s place. In Art’s house, there was warmth that wasn’t in his own. In Art’s house, there was sophisticated humor and lightness that his parents couldn’t provide. In the moments he didn’t hate them, he thought they wanted to give him that too, they just didn’t know how.

Patrick also knows that every relationship in his life is temporary. Because Patrick can’t love anyone the way he loves Liana. It’s something he knows from the second his eyes met her green ones. It’s an integral part of his personality. There’s who he is in front of the whole world and there’s who he is in front of Liana. And he can’t explain it. Not really. Because if he tries to be objective, Patrick knows Liana isn’t the most beautiful girl he’s met. Tashi, his current girlfriend, is the most beautiful girl he’s met. Liana isn’t the most special girl, not the prettiest, not the most charismatic. Nothing about her is flashy or something that demands his love. But her silence grounds him. While he can break racket after racket on the court and fight with Tashi for hours about moves, argue with his parents about the direction his life is going, it takes one phone call to Liana and he remembers who he wants to be. He’s not there yet; he’s not who he wants to be. Not even close. But he’s trying to be on the right path. Anyway, Patrick knew his relationship with Tashi was temporary. It was situational at best. He didn’t deceive her, he told her from the beginning where it was going. He didn’t explain why, just said he was looking for something light. Tashi made it clear to him that she doesn’t do anything lightly. She made it clear to him again and again but Patrick chose not to listen. That’s how he found himself lying beneath her in her room, while she whispered dirty words in his ear and his hands held her ass. His eyes were closed. All he wanted was to relax and release some steam from the last few months. “I think Art and Liana are fucking,” she said suddenly, while her hand gently held his dick. She looked at him with scrutinizing eyes, seeing how his body tensed and his eyes opened. “Why do you say that?” he groaned as her hand moved faster. “I see them every day in the cafeteria. It’s cute, the way he touches her sometimes and thinks no one notices.” She continued, her lips kissing his neck with small kisses. “Where does he touch her?” Patrick found himself asking. He closed his eyes, imagining what would have happened if he had gone to Stanford too, if instead of Art, he was the one touching Liana. If Liana’s lips were the ones kissing him now. “They always sit next to each other and his hand is always on her thigh.” Tashi said, her lips merging with his, she knew he was close. His fingers automatically went to her thigh, nearing where she really wanted him. “I always think that if no one were there, Art would bend her over the table. To show her who she belongs to.” Tashi said and his fingers were already inside her, moving erratically. “Fuck, Liana.” Patrick said as the viscous fluid came out of him and Tashi quickly stood up, looking at him in disgust. “Tash…” he mumbled. Understanding what just happened now. “I should have chosen Art. But we both know who chose him instead.” She said, putting on a shirt and continuing to look at him with revulsion. “Tash, I’m sorry. You talked about her and-” “I don’t care, Patrick. You and Art need to sort your shit out and leave me alone.” She said and he nodded in response, quickly gathering his things and leaving her room.

“Okay, you look miserable. What happened with Tashi?” Art asked as they sat in the park drinking cheap beer. “Do you think I should have come to college with you guys?” Patrick responded with a question, not wanting to tell his best friend about the fiasco that happened just hours earlier in Tashi's room. “Honestly? No, Patrick. Of course not.” He chuckled and examined Patrick, who looked unsettled, a bit like a kicked dog. “It’s not that I’m stupid, I would’ve managed to finish a degree, Art,” Patrick felt the need to defend himself. His life choices so far didn't seem impressive. “I didn’t say you’re stupid, Patrick.” Art sighed, not wanting to burden his friend even more than he was burdening himself. “Honestly? It’s tough here. My schedule is crazy and now before exams, I really don’t understand why I did this to myself.” He shrugged. He wasn’t lying. This period was truly exhausting. “Your tennis has improved,” Patrick stated. He had watched part of Art’s practice earlier. Another thing that unsettled him, Art was playing much better than he did six months ago. He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had gone to Stanford too, instead of insisting on playing professionally too early. “The training here is insane, Patrick. Even Liana’s tennis would improve if they pushed her like this,” Art tried to lighten the mood. He started to worry. Patrick’s current mood didn’t characterize him at all. Patrick just sighed and leaned against the tree behind him. “You want to talk about it?” Art asked, running his hand nervously over his own neck. “Not really.” Patrick shrugged and closed his eyes for a second. “How is it? being here with Liana?” He dared to ask after a few seconds of silence. The two boys looked at each other. Neither of them knew how to approach the subject. It wasn’t like talking about Tashi. They talked about Tashi lightly. They both wanted her. They both were attracted to her. They both saw her as an unattainable woman. Someone who wasn’t in their league but for some reason looked their way. Threw them a bone, and they were hers. Talking about Liana was different. Neither of them wanted to talk about her with the other. “You know how it is. We’re closer than we were before. You saw yesterday, in her room.” Art said and swallowed, examining his best friend. Every movement in his expression. “Yeah, Tashi mentioned something like that…” Patrick tried to gather more details. “What did she say?” Art was curious. “Something about cafeteria meals.” Patrick’s smile wasn’t genuine; it was the kind that hides all his emotions. All the flame burning beneath the surface. “Oh, I always have extra credit in the cafeteria and Liana loves the pie they serve there.” Art smiled a similar smile. And he didn’t take his eyes off his best friend. Not fully understanding what was happening right now, but knowing that any game Patrick played, he could play too. It was a competition. It was another competition between them, only Art didn’t fully understand all its layers while Patrick knew since he was twelve. From the first time his eyes landed on Liana’s green eyes and Art stood between them. Patrick wasn’t the only one in love with Liana.

Patrick wandered around her room while Liana sat on the bed with her laptop on her lap, almost ignoring his presence but fully aware of him. He looked at the books she had on the shelves, at the gray synthetic carpet, the maroon curtains. Her room had character. “Leave my drawers alone, Pat,” she said without looking up from her computer. “Can you pay attention to me?” he asked, sitting on the chair and dragging it closer to her. “No. We had a deal. You’re supposed to be good and I’m supposed to study,” she said. In moments like these, he wondered if she knew how sexual she sounded. How dirty the things he wanted to do to her were. How many things he wanted to teach her. “I’m bored,” he found himself restraining from bluntly responding to what she said earlier about his behavior. About how bad he could really be. “Go to Tashi,” she sent him away, still not looking at him. He snatched her computer away. “Patrick.” She looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Fifteen minutes of your time, Amanda. Fifteen minutes,” he smiled a smile he was pretty sure she couldn’t resist. “Fifteen minutes.” She surrendered and he moved from the chair to the bed. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Tell me about the university,” he requested, making circular motions on her arm while she let her head rest on his shoulder. “You know how it is, Patrick, I study all day. I don’t have much time for anything special.” She shrugged. “You sound worried,” he shifted a bit, making her lift her head so he could examine her closely. She looked even more exhausted than yesterday if that made sense. “Shit, Liana, you remember these exams are bullshit, right? You can’t kill yourself for a grade.” He stated. “Isn’t that exactly what you do for tennis?” she asked defensively. “It’s different.” He protested. “How is it different? You devote all of yourself to something important to you. Why can’t I do the same thing? Just because I don’t know how to hit a ball, my ambitions aren’t important?” her nerves were frayed. He didn’t understand how the conversation had heated up to the point where she raised her voice at him. “I didn’t say that,” he said quietly. “I’m supposed to choose my major. You don’t understand the level of the entrance exams for architecture. Sorry, Pat, I have to keep studying, I can’t babysit you. Go to Art if you fought with Tashi.” She took the computer and moved to the chair, ignoring his presence. “Liana, I didn’t mean…” he felt defeated, not understanding what he had done wrong. “You never mean it, Patrick. But just because I don’t play tennis doesn’t mean I’m not important.” She looked at him with those big eyes of hers. He knew her frustration wasn’t necessarily directed at him and bit his tongue. nodding in her direction. “I’m leaving tomorrow around 10 AM if you want to say goodbye…” he mumbled before leaving. Feeling a bit pathetic. But how was he supposed to explain to the girl in front of him that she and tennis weren’t even on the same level of importance in his life? How was he supposed to explain to her that she was the most important thing, when he still wasn’t the person she deserved him to be?

To all the Patrick fans of the story, how are we doing with this chapter? I really love hearing what you're thinking about this 'cause I'm obsessed with all of them. Tashi included, even if she doesn't have a big role in it. By the way- what are your thoughts about Liana in general? Art? Patrick? OK, I'm over doing it Again. Ask box is open as usual ❤️

taglist: @swetearss ganana yoitsme-04

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan #patrick zweig smut #challengers fic #challengers

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Alright let's start off with the primary points:

1 - You do NOT have to give to get.

2 - You do not have to get to give.

3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D

Things You Can Do During This Event:

1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)

2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)

3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!

Details below the cut!

Raffle Prizes!

-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.

-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )

-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD

Gifting Quin!

❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.

❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!

❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰

Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):

1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)

Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something

Birthday Bash Requests \o/

Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD

*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***

-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )

Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)

Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)

Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice

***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***

Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰

#birthday request event 2024 #june-july event

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I know you've touched on it in your Gamzee Essay/general alternative timeline post but may I hear some more about your ideas regarding GamTav (or only Tavros)? You get these two in a way the broader fandom doesn't (which is fine, I'll still reblog even the most vanilla ooc art of them) so I'd really love hearing more of your thoughts:3

Ok, I think this is going to be someeewhat controversial, but I think they're destined for pale together, despite Gamzee's initial flushed flirting. I did in fact reread ALL of Tavros's logs for this.

I think the first thing we need to establish is that Tavros actually feels really shitty about himself. It's obvious that his problem is "self-esteem," since he's constantly prattling on about it, but there's a bit he says as Tavrossprite that's pretty enlightening as to where his actions stem from:

TAVROSPRITE: i SYMPATHIZE ENTIRELY WITH YOUR SOCIAL IMPASSE, cAUSING NOT GOOD REFLECTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF, tHAT MAYBE ALSO DOUBLE AS LIBERATING STUFF ABOUT YOU THAT YOU RANDOMLY DECIDE IS FINE SUDDENLY, TAVROSPRITE: oLD ACQUAINTANCES, aND GUYS YOU ONCE CALLED FRIENDS, TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE ARE VERY HARD, TAVROSPRITE: bECAUSE OVER TIME THEY GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH, tO ALL MY FLAWS AND INSECURITIES, TAVROSPRITE: aND THEY START LIKING ME LESS BECAUSE OF THAT, TAVROSPRITE: aT LEAST, tHAT'S HOW THE TRUTH FEELS, iN MY BRAIN, TAVROSPRITE: sO i START THINKING, mAYBE THEY CAN'T BE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME, aFTER ALL, iF i'M GOING TO WANT TO FEEL NOT SAD ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME,

He has a mixture of self-loathing and social anxiety, the latter of which exacerbates the former, as his mind tells him that his friends secretly hate him. However, his real problem is what he then does with those feelings - he avoids them and the situations that cause them. This causes two major knock-on effects: the first is that he actively ends up distancing himself from people who ARE nice to him and DO care about him, only adventuring with Vriska because he's a pushover and she's very pushy (he adventures completely alone up until that point, and winds up sleeping almost all the time afterwards); the second being that, because he refuses to actually sit with and address his negative feelings about himself (or anything else), he's never able to fix them, or remove himself from shitty situations.

Something consistent with Tavros is that every time he tries to make a decision before his death and Vriska-prototyping, it's by trying to rely on something external - whether that's his imaginary friend, his robot legs, or the story of Pupa Pan... or relying on advice from Kanaya, or seeking approval and forgiveness from Vriska, or earning flushed interest from Jade. He believes himself to be deeply flawed and untrustworthy, so he allows other people to make his decisions, and when relationships do get intimate enough that someone might get him vulnerable, he peaces out. Even his ill-fated attempt to kill Vriska is heavily encouraged by Vriska herself:

AT: aND THAT BEING THE CASE, AT: eVEN THOUGH i'M TERRIFIED OF YOU, AT: aND nOT AS STRONG, AT: oR REAL CONFIDENT, AT: oNLY MOSTLY FAKE CONFIDENT, AG: Yeeeeeeees? AG: Go on. AT: i THINK, AT: i AM GOING TO HAVE TO STOP YOU, AG: Yeah! That's the spirit. AG: Pretty weakslime threat there, 8ut it's a start. AG: Tell you what. AG: If you can find me in this la8, you can have at me. AG: I'll even give you a free shot! No funny 8usiness or anything. AT: oK, AT: tHEN, AT: hERE i COME, AG: I'll 8e w8ing. <3

As we see with Jade, whom he's attempting to flirt with flushed, he's actively trying to impress her using "self-esteems" explicitly gained from "fake" things he's acknowledging as fake - that is, refusing to be genuine and vulnerable with her, because he doesn't believe anyone would like him the way he actually is.

AT: bUT WHAT ABOUT, AT: mY ATTRACTIVE BRAVADO, AT: aND IGNORING MY INSTINCTUAL COWARDICE HARD ENOUGH TO SAY THAT i LIKE YOU, AT: iSN'T THAT, AT: sUPPOSED TO BE VERY ATTRACTIVE, aND ENCOURAGE THE MAJOR HAVING OF FLUSHED FEELINGS IN OTHERS, AT: i GUESS WHAT i MEAN IS, wHAT ABOUT ALL MY CONFIDENCE, AT: wHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT,

His "dating" Vriska in the dream bubbles is also dubious and one-sided at best, as John calls him out for faking it and Tavros isn't willing to bring up wanting the Ring of Life because he was planning to propose to Vriska. Thus, once more, he's attempting to use something disingenuous (in this case, a human proposal) to win another person's affection, which he believes would be a symbol of actualizing his "self-esteem".

We also literally see him do the "deciding someone wasn't actually important to you after all, so it hurts less when you cut them off before they can hurt you emotionally by noticing your flaws" thing with Nepeta - he actually quite likes Nepeta, and would certainly have enjoyed having her play the game with him, but he assures her that it's not a big deal basically immediately, and insists he'll just find someone else:

AC: :33 < tavros im sorry i cant be on your team :(( AC: :33 < im not allowed AT: oH, AT: tHAT'S OKAY, AT: tHEN i GUESS HE SAID NO, tHEN, ... AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps AC: :33 < but i still f33l bad AT: i'LL FIND ANOTHER PLAYER, iT'S NOT A BIG DEAL, AT: gOOD LUCK, bEING, AT: oN THE BLUE TEAM, AC: :33 < ok thanks :((

But, perhaps most strikingly, is the way he leaves his good friend Gamzee on read after Gamzee suggests... gasp... intimacy.

TC: WhEn wE Up aNd sTaRt tO KiCk aT ThIs rEd TeAm NoIsE, TC: YoU ShOuLd mAkE YoUr wAy tO GeT YoUr hAnG On aT My hIvE. AT: oH, yES, tOTALLY, TC: We cOuLd sPlIt a tIn oF ThE PiMpEsT SnEeZe i gOt oN HaNd, BaKeD Up aLl sPeCiAl fOr yOu. TC: AnD ThEn mAyBe mAkE OuT A LiTtLe. AT: uH, TC: ;o) AT: , AT: ,,

It freaks him out, and he's never seen hanging with Gamzee again. And this is a huge shame, because not only is Tavros one of the only people who is nice to Gamzee and appreciates his religious beliefs, but Gamzee is one of the only people who hears out Tavros's genuine insecurities and desires without making fun of him:

AT: tHE ONLY THING MORE FLY THAN THE RHYMES, AT: i'M SAYING TO EXPRESS ALL MY MALICES, AT: iS THE ABILITY HE HAD i WISH WAS MINE, AT: iNSTEAD OF i GUESS, THIS EXCESSIVE PARALYSIS, TC: (lOoK OuT FoR ThE HoOk bRo!!!) TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS! AT: bUT HIGH, iN THIS CASE, hAS DOUBLE THE MEANING, AT: iT MEANS HE CAN FLY, pLUS DOES HIGH SELF ESTEEMING, AT: tHAT'S TWO THINGS HE HAS, tHAT i'D RATHER WERE MINE, AT: hIS TWO FLAPPY WINGS, aND hIS BIG HEALTHY SPINE, AT: oOPS, AT: tHAT'S THREE THINGS,,, TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS!

(Compare:)

PAT: i'M SORT OF, lYING ON vRISKA'S FLOOR RIGHT NOW, PAT: lIKE, iN HER BLOCK, PAT: lYING DOWN, PAT: uHH, yOU KNOW, bECAUSE i CAN'T WALK, CCG: OH NO SHIT REALLY??? CCG: YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS, WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN.

He isn't able to do a REAL self-confidence at least until he gives Vriska the bird and flies away, for the first time asserting that he thinks she's an asshole and doesn't actually want or need her validation or approval. After that, he's able to convince a ghost army to follow him using friendship and asking and niceness. Breath powers! Also Page powers! Also actual self-esteems! Although I don't personally hold anything after Game Over as anything more than soft canon, I think we can still see a fairly straightforward character arc reach a natural conclusion there.

But as to why I specifically think him and Gamzee are destined for pale, despite what appears to be flushed leanings from Gamzee's end, and despite the fact that I usually believe what the comic tells me, is because what brief few interactions we see between them are very much pale in nature, and it would be kind of narratively bizarre if Gamzee were set up to have a failed moirallegiance - the quadrant described as "soul mates" - without managing to find his real soul mate after. And who's it going to be? Equius? Or the guy that Gamzee literally says he feels "at chill with" talking to?

Gamzee kissing Tavros's corpse is often used as evidence for his desire for flushed, but I disagree - however Gamzee feels about Tavros romantically, kissing a dead player is how you revive them, so it reads to me - especially given how sad Gamzee is about Tavros dying - more like a desperate act to bring him back. Lest we forget, Terezi also gives it a try, and Karkat kisses Kanaya for the same reason - the reality that their extra lives are gone hasn't sunk in yet for these 13 year old kids, so they must try revival even if they know it won't work.

Moreover, Gamzee indirectly describes Tavros as his "best friend," after having called Karkat that through most of the game, and having an implied pale crush on Karkat during that time.

TC: YOU MOTHER FUCKING KNOW, BROTHER. TC: its the fuckin puppet. TC: THE ONE THAT'S ALL GOT TO BE MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND I GOT NOW. TC: now that my other buddy managed to be having his head chopped off. :oC

Moreover moreover, what Karkat cites as being the cause of their moirallegiance's failure is Gamzee's religious beliefs:

KARKAT: HE STARTED GETTING SO UNBELIEVABLY SELF SATISFIED AND PIOUS, LIKE WAY MORE THAN HE EVER WAS BEFORE. KARKAT: LIKE HE'S JUST SO COMPLETELY CONVINCED HE'S FOUND HIS CALLING, THAT THIS SESSION IS THE GATEWAY TO THE PROMISED LAND WHERE HE'LL FULFILL HIS DESTINY. KARKAT: HE'S SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS IDIOTIC SCHEMES HE COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME ANYMORE.

Which are explicitly what Tavros invites Gamzee to speak on, and appreciates:

AT: yEAHHH, yOU CAN TALK ABOUT THE CLOWN THINGS, wHICH, AT: i DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND EVER, bUT THAT'S OKAY, AT: bECAUSE IT'S KIND OF FUNNY, AT: wHEREAS, i'LL ADDRESS SOME TOPICS PERTAINING TO MY INTERESTS, AT: aND i GUESS, pERSONAL MOTIFS, TC: YeAh! FuCk YeAh, ThAt Be HoW sHiT's AlL uSuAlLy Up AnD fUcKiN lOcKeD bRo. ... AT: dO YOU HAVE TIME FOR, mY MIRACLES, rELIGIOUS FRIEND, }:) TC: Do yOu gEt yOuR NoTiCe oN Of tHe mIrAcLeS AT: sO MANY, uH, gRATUITOUS EXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, tHE MAGIC MOTHER, aLSO eXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, TC: FuCk yEs, HeReS WhErE ThE SlAm tUrNs tO NoThIn bUt hOnKs... TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk AT: HONK, TC: FuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuCk! AT: iT'S LESS APPROPRIATE FOR ME TO DO THE HONKS, tHAN YOU, bUT THAT WAS STILL GREAT, TC: YeAh, BrO. yEaH!!! AT: tHE SLAMS WERE TRULY PRIME, aND, AT: yOUR RELIGIOUS VIEWS, tHOUGH i DON'T SHARE THEM, aRE, AT: rEASONABLY INSPIRATIONAL, AT: i THINK i'M IN THE PROCESS OF RELEASING AT LEAST ONE TEAR,

But also in Tavros's single conversation with Gamzee, we see Tavros stand up to a highblood:

TC: :o) HoNkHoNkHoNkHoNkHoNk AT: }:o), hEH, TC: hAhAh FuUuUuCk, YoU sToLe My FuCkIn NoSe BrO! TC: WhAt GoT yOu EvEn Up ThE gUmPtIoN tO aLl FuCkIn Do ThE sHiT lIkE tHaT? AT: eRR, i DON'T KNOW, iT'S JUST, AT: kIND OF THE OBVIOUS THING TO DO, AT: sTICK THE CIRCLE IN FRONT OF THE DOTS, aND, bEHIND THE BENDY ONE, AT: pLUS, oH YEAH, mY HORNS, TC: hAhAhAhA. AT: mAYBE WE CAN SLAM ABOUT IT, ... TC: fUuUuCk, So FuCkIn FrEsH. TC: YoU nEeD tO bE sLaPpEd FuCkIn SiLlY wItH a MoUtH lIkE tHaT! hAhA. AT: aND, iF YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, AT: tHEN i SUGGEST YOU GO AND RAP IT DUDE,

He feels safe with Gamzee, enough to take a bit of an attitude with him, enough to open up about his insecurities about his disability and how much he wishes he was like Pupa Pan, and Gamzee explicitly states he feels calm when he talks to Tavros, which is the stated function of a moirallegiance.

TC: Me tOo, BrO, yOu mOtHeR FuCkIn kNoW ThErE Be sOmE Of mY EyE's RoYaL JeLlY To gO WiTh yOuR EmOtIoNaL pEaNuT BuTtEr. AT: wHOA, aHA, hA, TC: ThIs iS BeAuTiFuL, dUdE, i fEeL So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu. AT: yEAH, fRIENDLINESS WITH YOU IS, pRETTY MUCH ALWAYS NICE, aND FUN TO HAVE,

And the thing is, trolls are constantly getting into moirallegiances when they want to be flushed (Eridan, Kanaya), having palecrushes when they want to be friends (Gamzee), and winding up flushed with their moirail (pale solfef is forshadowed in the same breath as pale erikar, and they don't seem to confirm a matespritship until after Sollux's actual flushed crush, Aradia, explodes). Especially for Gamzee, who was neglected by his lusus and struggles with social interaction to the point where he feels like he has to hide his real self (casteist beliefs, constant talk of religion and murder, which, by the way, come out when he talks to Tavros), it'd be easy for him to mistake the "instinctive attraction" of moirallegiance for the passions of matespritship.

These thoughts are all pretty disorganized - I'm really sorry, it's super late/early for me and I'm exhausted for other reasons - but I hope that that . was what you wanted? hahah

#homestuck #gamzee makara #tavros nitram #gamtav

[twiniverse]

So here's the thing.

I'm jealous of other creators. Surpassing me in likes, comments, follows... getting recognition, getting all kinds of kick ass fan projects... and I hate being jealous, because there's no reason to be. All of my issues boil down to 'I would be more popular if I tried with my art and posted more often.' That's 100% on me and has nothing to do with other creators!

That's it. That's all I have to do. And I would like to begin actually trying on this comic more after. But now we get to THE THING. The early comics are bad. Like, really bad. Because I didn't care! I just wanted to get the story out and move on. But the beginning comics are supposed to draw in your audience. Seeing just a bunch of blobs with no real effort put into them... that's a turn off. I wouldn't read a comic like that!

SO. I'm going to be redoing a lot of them. Maybe all of them, maybe not Mirror Gem and Desert Dance because those are both decent... We'll see. I'm still going to try to do actual story updates. If all goes to plan I will alternate between an actual new episode and redraws of the old ones. Of course some of the old ones are really small updates, so I can knock out more of those in a shorter amount of time.

I'm just asking that you all bare with me here. I know this is frustrating, waiting all this time between updates just for me to go back and redraw a bunch of stuff I already drew... but I think this is what I need to do to be happy with myself. Because right now, I'm not. I'm disappointed. I know I can do better, I've been proving that for years with various other works I've done. And Twiniverse deserves better.

So, yeah, that's the thing.

I hope you all keep sticking around, and I'll try to be more attentive and definitely try to update way more often. I know it doesn't seem like I've been working much, but I've actually been finishing the references for almost every major non-human character. Gonna do the humans, too, at some point. So I've been hardcore focusing on the designs. I know you don't get to see them yet, but I just need you to know I AM working on this comic all the time in various ways.

I'm also jealous of Chekhov's dog. I love Wensy so fucking much.

#pip post #twiniverse #wednesday the dog

[wololo-01]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MRS. WATER!!!!

Yayyyy!!!! It finally here!! It my girl birthday!!! I'm so happy to finally celebrate Mrs. Water birthday <3

But actually that's not all I really want to celebrate and say.....

Oh boi ok long LOOOONG texts above ( there is Also some swearing so be warned too :'b) ↓

(also sorry for interrupting any of you guys!! For the people I tag, you all can just read the part I mentioned you and then skip all the rest!! <3)

*sigh* ok, I'm not going to lie here, since the last 3 years here in this community, it never crossed my mind that I would meet people as incredible, funny, creative and majestic as everyone here,And I'll tell you the truth, this fandom changed me a lot, I didn't imagine this would happen but look, this actually happened hahaha!! XD

To be honest, I had a lot of problems last year and this year too, a lot of shit happened to me and that really discouraged me in a lot of things,I had problems with my self-esteem again and wanted to give up trying anything and life as well I felt useless on several days but you guys, you all cheered me up so much!! I never had the courage to tell you this but if it weren't because of you all I really don't know what I would do :') everything was like: "No one will ever like my style" - BANG! Them find my style cool. "I made this drawing but I don't really think someone will-” BANG! People actually like it a lot “i made this fanart for them but what if then-” BANG! them like it a lot! I'm so happy! :'D

sorry, sorry kakskaak buuut also, There is actually some special people who I want to thank a lot, they are people who of all inspired me to continue and made me so happy:

@bluetorchsky & @androidcharles

YOU TWO.

Since the first time when I moved in to tumblr again to post my thsc art in a old account, I was scared to death that maybe there was no person who knew this game here and my style back then...jesus Christ"; _;, I was really about to gave up until BOOM!! suddenly you both show up in my notifications and I saw the reblog and read the nice tags you guys leave it AND- *slam table* AHHHHHHHHH/p YOU TWO LITERALLY ARE SOOO FREAKING NICE AND AMAZING!!!! Not only that but your both have such extraordinary creative and talent!! You two deserve so much happiness and love!! I was too shy to say this but now damn you both deserve to hear this!!! >:}

Blue your artwork is pretty!! Pretty like the moon and stars shining high in the sky!, your writing is extremely beautiful, like music on a violin or a piano at night or the ones pretty poems Written with so much passion, your writing is extraordinary! You dedicate yourself so much and manage to make a story seem like a book that you are lucky enough to know and read!! And not only that but your ocs, violin and accordion DANG I love how well written they are so much!! They designs are so great yet sooo fabulous and they storys is very veeeery good and greats!!!. I really hope that you continue with those Masterpieces that you write and draw!!, But not only that, but you are such a kind, spectacular and divine person, I really appreciate soooooo muuuch all the things you do here, your writing is done with so much passion and your art is so unique, Don't feel sad or anything just because you can't write or draw at some point, it's totally fine and you deserve all the time but also ALLL THE LOVE AND APPRECIATION in the world! ^^)

Katiee!!! First of all WHERE DID GET SO FREAKING AMAZING IDEAS AND CREATIVE?!?!!???? I SWEAR YOU ARE AMAZING AND FUNNY!!, sometimes I envy you a little, but I also consider you one of my inspirations!!!! Your art is beautiful, beautiful like a painting of flowers or like a clean and calm river, your style is so cuteeeee Those stick people really look like marshmallows!! I so eat your art!! >:3 (kakak sorry), but seriously you are a talented person too, many people here also like you and blue!! You are neat and I glad to be able meet you and your artwork!! (Also I saw that you also writing and it one about your au, I still need to Taste this new delicious write of you 🍽️) when you did the Toppat clan week YIPPEE I GOT SO EXCITED!!! I was scary to not be able to participate but I managed!! I have so much fun drawing all those stuff!!! The prompt You put it was really good also extremely interesting!!!, and talking about something I love so much your ocs!!! Especially Amelia! She such a cuteee cinnamon roll and a adorable blueberry cake!! I love her personality and the design Ohh ESPECIALLY the hair!! Its like a fluffy blue cotton candy!! You super cool, I really appreciate all the work you do, I hope I can see more, you are a talented, funny and absolutely magnificent person!!! Don't forget this!!! >:]

@capturecharlesau & @crown-of-roses-thsc

YOU BOTH ARE MY TWO FAVORITE AU BLOG HAHSHSHAK SUCH CREATIVE, SWEET AND AMAZING PERSON YOU GUY ARE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Minnie!!, you super cool! Like really you such a cool and amazing person!! You also so sweet and kind!!! You like one of those cool kid in the school who I look like at and said "I wanna be like she!! She so awesome!! Yep, she deserves this popularity, she deserves nothing but the best for all things" In the last year, I was really down by some things that happened, but then I saw some one of the chapter you post it and BOOOM!!! Your au is what brings me back the joy!!! AAAAAA I was so hyped about your au!!! Jesus it just so DAMN WELL writing, I love the ideas you have and the characters?? NAHAHAHA THEM ALSO ARE SOOO FREAKING GREAT you manage to combine the words anguish, violence and comfort in such an incredible way! (And snicker you too do!!) Some of your chapters were thrown out at times when I really needed something to distract me, seriously you are a divinely talented person!! And other things I love about your au is Terrence, I'm still a hater of this piece of crap but I want to praise you so much about how you wrote it!! He really was such a good and badass villain/antagonist!!! God, I've even had some nightmares involving him, he really gave me the chills, The way you wrote it from start to finish was AMAZING, I swear I still love rereading it all again, to me it's like a frollo like the hunchback of Notre Dame with a bit of the personality of Clayton from Tarzan or Ursula from the little mermaid!! (Sorry they all are one of my favorite villains), Another thing I love so much are your ocs! Not only Danny but I can also say allwork and Benz!! AHHH THEM ALL ARE SUCH COOL OCS!!! I also need to say you are amazing when it comes to writing about Characters!! I really wanna know so much more about them all!!, Danny is still my favorite (he so lovely and sweet, he and you deserve the world) but either way, I thankful for you get in this fandom :') you deserve so much loveee and appreciation!! You made wanna go back in training more cartoon styles and expression because of your artstyle who is perfect!!!! I and everyone here will love to see your next works and arts!!! DON'T FORGET WHO FREAKING NICE AND AMAZING YOU ARE!!!!

Snicker!!!! (Hope it okay to call you that)) *sigh*.....

I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE A MEDAL FOR THE BEST AU THAT IS BEING WRITTEN.

Wow, God, how can I put into words in English how good she is??? I won't even be able to describe it in Portuguese CUZ GODDAMN YOU HAVE SUCH A POWER TO WRITE SOMETHING SO GOOOOOD😭😭 think I can say you and have the absolutely talens of god and the creative of a Talented artist who deserves much more appreciation and great recognition!!! When you showed up I was having a few bad days but YOUR AU SUDDENLY FELL FROM THE SKY AND WAS IMMEDIATELY BLESSED TO READ SUCH THE MAGNIFICENT MASTERPIECE!!! I love sooo much the idea of ​​Ellie being Terrence daughter It such a cool and think I can say, a really original ideas (I mean about ellie being Terence daughter, not Terrence having a child "^^) I also adore so much all the personalities of each, RHM is one of my favorites, I'm also curious about his story and the others, I can't forget to talk about the villain!, AAAAAA YOUR TERRENCE IT'S SO NEAT!!! I also still his hater but you done such a good job with him gave the big vibe of two-face villain or the cocky anger issues one (idk what it the name for this one XD) but seriously? Meeen I wish I could could puch him just like rogue from jewel au from @smoresthehalloweenqueen ((Smore you also another of my inspiration and favorite artist!! >:3)) and CC!terrence, for me rogue, CC!Terrence and CoRTerrence are pretty good villains but make Blood boils so much just by seeing them but hey hey! This why I love villains you like them very much but wish them all just die soon (cc!Terrence was one Only these two are missing and I can't wait to see them all in hell ahahaha >:D) you really are spectacular, take the time you need to do the chapters, but I wanna to said that you are also my new Big inspiration!!

@00lari00

LARIIIII FINALMENTE EU TENHO UMA AMIGA BR NESSE FANDOM!!! DEUS É BOM DE DEMAAAAAAAAIS PORRA 🙌🙌

Akaskska sorry XDD but I serious!! I so happy to be the only brazillian person here in the fandom on tumblr!! It sucks sometimes not having someone who speaks the same language as you to talk :'''b but suddenly A SMOKE ARISED AND SUDDENLY FROM BEHIND, WIZARD LARI FINALLY ARRIVED!!! HOORAY!!!! Lari we can not talk to much since you busy with your school and I am a shy idiot but I need to said, HOLY SHIT YOU ARE THE MOST FUCKING COOL PERSON I HAVE HAD THE PLEASURE OF KNOWING, YOUR ART AND CREATIVITY ARE LIKE MAGIC COMING TRUTH!!! And this au you are creating??? É MUITO FODAAAAAA 😩😭🤌🤌🤌 CARALHO VEI TU TA FAZENDO UMA OBRA PRIMA ESPERO QUE VC NÃO PARE!!! É MUITO INCRÍVEL TUDO QUE VC TA FAZENDO!!! (Sorry back to English KAJSKS) I can't lie to you, I sometimes envy you, you are such a special, kind and incredible person. It's like I'm talking like the coolest maid ever and I think 'god they're so cool why they are even talking to me?, but I also see you as one of my big inspirations!! I know I will reach the same level as you in talent and art but I at least want to have some of your courage to talk to people and be good at drawing just like YOUU!!I also want you to remember that you are so wonderful and a very magnificent and awesome person!! Anyone who talk shit about you and one it's a hater because them never gonna be in the same way as you are!!! Also take all the time you need it for draw, study is also important I am here to let you know that I'm rooting for you every day!! I can see you Gonna have a bright and wonderful future, thank you for being my friend and also so being my inspiration

And now a really special one...a person who I am very very grateful...

@doodlethings

Bunnu?, omg I think I will cry (I already am since I'm writing all this) YOU. HOLY SHIT BUNNU I SWEAR HOW DARE YOU BE THE COOLEST, AMAZING, SENSATIONAL, WONDERFUL, KIND, AMAZING PERSON??? WHAT THE FUCK, I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU THE FUCKING WORLD, GIVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU DESEVE IT AND MORE THAN THE WORLD CAN OFFER TO YOU, In fact, how long have we been glued to each other? Type 4?? 5?? Or 6 years?? Oof time passed so quickly I lost count ;_; but well fuck it! The most important thing I want want to said is, YOU ARE SUCH DIVINE ARTIST AND WRITER!!! YOUR ART IS AS WONDERFUL AS A LIVING PAINTING A MUSE PAINTING, And this art deserves to be featured, every detail of it is so impeccable and incredible, and your writing? They are like a special, treasured book that deserves to be read, even if no one does, I will, I will appreciate your art and I will read your stories for the rest of my life, again and again and again, You are like a sunshine or flowers in the snow, you are my bestie, my favorite person in the world!! And you are my biggest inspiration to continue drawing, you have cheered me up all these years and continue to this day, you have the best sense of humor and music of all, your gave so wanna tips and help me a lot to deal with live and learn to love and appreciate more the things!! If wasn't because of you? Geez I really don't know but this doesn't matter, you are the best, intelligence and great yet sweetly and maravilinda person in this WHOOOOOLE WORLD!!! I LOVE YOU!! THANK YOU FOR BEING MY BEST FRIEND AND BE AND TALK WITH ME TO THIS DAY, I'm sorry about my horrible sense of humor, my delulu theories, lack of brain cells and Also because they heard the stupidest story I tell it ksskskajk you got a bored dumb friend :'b but I happy to be on your side until now and I can't wait to see you shine more <'3

Oh and for the people I didn't tag and said here

I'm sorry I can't tag all of you 😭😭 if tag more people here this post will be post only a few weeks later akajsj BUT DON'T THINK JUST BECAUSE I DIDN'T TAG YOU GUYS IT MEAN I FINDA ANY OF YOU SO NEAT AND AMAZING!!! YOU GUYS SUPPORT AND LOVE THAT YOU ALL GAVE ME HAVE A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART!!! A LOT (almost everyone) OF YOU ARE ALSO MY INSPIRATIONS!!! YOU LOVE EVER BLOG, DRAW, THEORY, WRITINGS AND AUS THAT YOU ALL DO!!! KEEP SHINING AND GOING EVERYONE CUZ YOU GUYS ARE FABULOUS 💞💞💞 💅 I WANNA SUPPORT AND LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! YOU GUYS DESERVE A LOOOOOOOOOOOT OF MORE THAN I CAN OFFER AND SAID DO NEVER FORGET WHO COOL AND BEAUTIFUUUUUUL YOU ALL ARE!!!! 🗣️📢

You knows? Today also is my birthday and there is It's a tradition in Brazil where, when someone has a birthday, after congratulations and lighting the candles, the person gives the first piece of cake to someone important, but all of you are important to me soooo...Since this is the internet not real life, I wanna pass several first pieces to each of you all!!!! SO GRAB ONE GUYS!!! NYEHEHEHEHEHE 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰 >:DDD

Well this all I can actually said, happy birthday again Mrs. Water and Happy birthday to me!!

Also have I got this stupid idea her ajakskdkk xb

#thsc #henry stickmin #the henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin oc #thsc oc #thsc mrs. water #mrs. water #thsc julio #WOLOLOart

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

medialog april 2k24

ok. sick day catch up part two

watched

monkey man - this was gnarly and fun and dev patel, quite simply the hottest man ever to live, is upsettingly hot in this film, like SO hot oh my fucking god

white room - this was a VERY weird movie that (as per the filmmaker q & a) totally flopped at a film festival and never received distribution... you can kinda see why but i more or less liked it. it's about a weird sheltered repressed dude who accidentally sees the murder of a mysterious pop star and then accidentally befriends and falls in love with the woman who was actually the reclusive songwriter and voice of the act... the filmmaker described it as a "journey through genres" and it was very artistically ambitious in a way that maybe didn't totally work but it had some really good stuff about art/consumption/fame/women (my jam) and it frequently looked gorgeous and also all of the mysterious/reclusive pop singer's songs were big late 80s/early 90s style upbeat synth-bombast numbers with lyrics taken from emily dickinson poems which is soooooo funny and a great idea

alien - this is like die hard in that if i'd seen it ten years ago i would not really have understood the hype but seeing after i had a backwards education in film by watching all of the mcu movies and developing curiosity about the question of why they were bad and ugly in such distinct ways and from there developing a nascent and unsophisticated appreciation of the filmic qualities of film i'm like, wow what an incredibly fucking well made movie!!!!!! some things in particular i liked were (1) no substantive backstory for anyone, no dark secrets except the one that really counted, no traumatic pasts, no explanation for how this world works or why anyone was here except needing a job, just giving us the bare minimum to understand the situation the characters find themselves in and trusting the story to do the rest (2) very good spaceshippy spaceship (another way it's like die hard is lots of great Texture, another thing that the MCU lacks which like many other MCU traits was actually a totally fitting design choice for tech bro billionaire tony stark in iron man but simply did not need to expand to Everything...) (3) sigourney weaver so good! ian holmes also very good (4) lots of suspense through silence which is one of the most lost of lost arts in the realm of big expensive Cool Shit Happens cinema!

roy cohn/jack smith - this was a filmed recording of two monologues performed by ron vawter, a gay actor who died of AIDS, each in the character of another gay man who had AIDS - the notorious roy cohn & the experimental cinema icon jack smith. i don't really have much to say about it but i feel very lucky to have seen it and vawter was incredible - i'm glad also that he happened to come to our attention a few months ago because he played the therapist in sex lies & videotape.

mad max: fury road - ok i kept putting this off because the way people talked about it on the internet frankly emphasized to an off-putting degree the ideas in this movie and did not adequately convey to me personally the most important thing about it which is that it Fucking Owns Lmao Wow. we happened to pause it for some reason like 50 minutes in and i swear to you i would have guessed 15, maybe 20 minutes had passed, that's how much it flies by... the coolest shit ever, i wanted to live there forever! also lottie yellowjackets is one of the wives????

mission: impossible 3 - the worst movie in the entire world. we only revisited this one as part of our ongoing marathon with some friends and we spent the whole time complaining about jj abrams' totally inept camera work... seriously watch this movie and look out for (1) every time an already fast sequence is torn up with a zillion stupid little cuts some of which actively prevent us from seeing something that could have been cool (2) every time we get to a new location and the camera starts aimlessly drifting to the side literally immediately because he's afraid we'll get bored if we sit in a location for one whole second (3) every time 3 people are having a conversation and the camera spends the whole time just purposelessly wafting back and forth side to side for, i cannot emphasize this enough, no reason at all. literally nothing in this, an installment of the Stuff Looking Cool franchise, looks even a little bit cool even one time. people hate on 2 for the male gaze of it all re: thandie newton but her character has more personality and agency than ethan's sexy lamp wife in this. the closest to a redeeming value this movie has is that it really feels like part of the goal was to remind everyone of how even though tom cruise jumped on that couch one time he's actually a very normal american heterosexual man (he passes out at one point and flashes back to his wife in her underwear sdksoeroser it's SO dumb) but because he's tom cruise (a total insane freak) he can't convincingly portray that at all and just comes across as insane and maybe a sociopath. "what about philip seymour hoffman" i'm not going to give abrams credit for knowing PSH was a good actor, that's like saying defending a doctor accused of malpractice by saying he knows that feet generally have toes. be serious. i will give a shout out to simon pegg, who is in this less than i remembered but who comes across as the MVP (across what should be a deep bench of a cast!) of making abrams' horrible comic-book-bro-patter come across as something a human might say, mostly so i can also share my friend's insight when i said that which is that it makes sense pegg is suited to the task given that he cut his teeth largely on movies that are parodies of shitty action movies.

mission: impossible - ghost protocol - a wonderful and perfect treat :) i've gone on at length about this one before and really have nothing left to say but it's so good and so specifically good at all the things 3 sucks ass at... my friend was physically squirming next to me on the couch during the burj khalifa sequence, as is right and proper :)

read

beautiful losers - this is a novel leonard cohen wrote in the 60s that is very weird and experimental and i'll be real with you and say i did not get it. it's about a guy whose wife and best friend he had a weird sexual relationship with are both dead and now he's kind of obsessed with an iroquois saint... i am not sure how to describe it but i guess i would say if you think the music of leonard cohen is too optimistic and insufficiently horny for you maybe you would like this. it is probably the most aggressively sexual book i've ever read but not in an erotic way... it's very like about the nastiness of sex and bodies... which i admire ideologically on a certain level but it's really quite unrelenting with it... occasionally there are snatches of deeply beautiful writing though.

listened

sourpatch, stagger & fade - nick put on the vinyl of this and i was like oh that sounds nice and i wound up listening to it a bit... fuzzy indie rock (i'm not educated enough to parse genres more finely than that) that makes for very pleasant background listening

ariana grande, eternal sunshine - i've never kept up with ariana because i just find her voice kind of annoying and i had never heard a song to challenge that UNTIL we reviewed "we can't be friends" at singles jukebox and ariana teaming up with max martin to do kidz bop body talk era robyn turned out to be everything i wanted from her... unfortunately the rest of the album was incredibly boring lol. love that song tho!

maggie rogers, don't forget me - i don't know that i find this one as interesting as her last album or quite as likable as her first (although that might be me somewhat overrating her first because i love "light on" sooooo much) but she's such a capital-M Musician she's always a pleasure to listen to. "drunk" was an early fave but recently i found myself returning a lot to "the kill"

girl in red, i'm doing it again baby! - girl in red comes a lot when other people are talking about the g*yl*rs as one of the actual queer artists they should support but first of all they actually love her and second of all i listened to this album twice straight through and have let some of the songs play on shuffle since and i could not hum you one single line :/

taylor swift, the tortured poets department - speak of the devil! i mean i've talked about this. i like this album a lot - at this point i'm ready to call it easily her best work except for maybe folklore, and honestly i find it hard to assess folklore out of what a special lockdown treat it felt like at the time. i don't expect a world insistent on calling 1989 pop perfection to eventually agree with me but i think people will mellow out about it in time and forget that it was so divisive on release much as has happened with reputation (an album far worthier of scorn if not without its occasional merits) and at the VERY least i think in like 5 years it will be more or less consensus that it's better than midnights.

the starting line, say it like you mean it - i listened to this album mostly to fact-check claims i was making about emo in the taylor swift piece but then i kept listening to it cuz it was kinda full of bops!

fall out boy, take this to your grave - @voidofcourse recommended this as a stepping stone from the starting line for loud guys offering bops and indeed it too was full of bops!

other

an enemy of the people - i saw this on broadway, yes, 1000% literally just because my boy my king my number one guy jeremy strong was in it. the production was interesting and good if not flawless, and although i think some of the younger cast members got a little lost in the old-fashioned theatrical language (even in a new translation) and could have used some direction towards really pulling out the meaning of individual sentences they were saying, the more seasoned actors all did a great job, including, of course, jeremy strong, who got to be shoved into a pit and have pretend ice thrown at him, i'm so happy for him. also the play was incredible? like as a play? i said as much here after seeing it but basically it's about this doctor who discovers that the town baths that are about to open have a contaminated water supply that is definitely going to result in people getting sick and some of them dying, especially since they are being advertised partly for their health-restoring properties for people who are already not doing well, and he's like, wow, good thing i caught this thanks to the help of science so we can change plans, and then everyone else in town is like, but have you considered that would be expensive? why do you hate poor people? (there's a thread specifically about the editor of the radical leftist newspaper going from being the doctor's number one champion to being totally coopted out of both politics and self-interest that was particularly brutal to watch...) like it was truly SO incredibly specifically relevant to some Extremely Contemporary Issues that i was just agog and also it was incredibly fucking upsetting to watch! really really great playwriting, such a clean example of how a work can best encompass & comment on ideas by developing them through character and dramatic action rooted in wants, needs, choices, conflict, etc., a lesson many people could stand to learn. i kept thinking it had burrowed as deeply into the core issues as it could and then it found another layer. this ibsen guy... he really knew some stuff about stuff....

#media 2k24 #isabel 2k24

[al-the-remix]

I know nothing about 911 but seeing all the bucktommy posts makes me really interested, if you don’t mind could you give a short introduction of the ship/which episode(s) to watch for them? Thanks!!

Hi! So the ship is a very new one and they don't have a lot of screen time yet, so their relationship only appears in season seven, episodes: 7x3 to 7x6 and then 7x9 and 7x10. Tommy Kinard as a side character also shows up in episodes 2x9, 2x12, 2x14 (in an off-screen capacity) and 2x16.

As for the introduction, the lore with this show runs sort of deep, but as condensed and simplified as I can give it to you: the decision to introduce bi!Buck and Tommy and his love interest was made very last minute (like as the first few episodes of season seven were coming out kind of last minute...) as the tv show switched networks from FOX to ABC and was working with a protracted season, (10 episodes in stead if 18), so this first season you see them together in has a very "let's see how well this works and if the general audience approves of it" kind of vibe.

Obviously, it worked for me! And the general reception has been good. Personally, I find their dynamic fun and genuine; the show runner was aiming for a non-heavy coming out story with a romcom twist, which a think they succeeded at. Buck (or "Evan" as Tommy calls him) is sort of the obvious favourite of the show in the audience and the writer's eyes, he's gotten a lot of development over the years, but has stagnanted recently on the romance side of things and also in his professional development, (which is partly the fault of the writers and partly just bad luck with maintaining actors). So I think a lot of fans are excited to see him "off the hamster wheel", as they say, in the love department. This opens up the possibility to explore other plot lines with him as a character in his professional life and personal life now that hes in a steady relationship.

Tommy we don't know much about yet, other than he was deeply in the closet when we first see him in the season 2 flash-back episodes. He's not initially a very warm, welcoming, and accepting person, but it's implied that a lot of that behavior was influenced by his environment and poor upbringing and he is quick to make amends and befriend the main characters when he's shown to be in the wrong. He used to be in the army, and is a fan of cars, martial arts, and rom coms. The way he talks in the season seven episodes makes it clear that he's done a lot of self reflection since we've last seen him (and since he's come out). He's shown to be an open and honest person who does his best to show up for the people he cares for, and once Buck is in his line of sight, all that attention is turned his way.

I think with this ship what people are most excited about is the potential it demonstrates: Buck as a character is someone who's been on an aggressive misson of self discovery and understanding, he's been actively looking for a romantic partner to have a committed, mature relationship with, he's someone who's willing to give a lot of himself away to his partner and is desperately hoping to have that attention and affection mirrored back at him.

What little we know about Tommy so far makes it clear that he's mature and willing enough to be that person for Buck: if it works out and the writers allow him to be. I just really enjoy what little I've seen so far, and with the show being back to its regular 18 episodes next season and Tommy pretty much confirmed to return, I'm interested and invested and hopefully in where they may take this relationship next.

Also I feel like I need to add if you're going to engage with the fandom specifically for this ship, do it through the #bucktommy tag on tumblr, because it's a real mine field out there right now, lol.

#bucktommy #asks #sorry I'm wine drunk i hope this makes sense #also I'm fairly new to this fandom so if anyone wants to add extra context feel free #I'm juat very good at digesting information and love to rubber neck and used to work in tv production #911 #i will edit this in the morning 🤦🏼‍♂️

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: When you're forced to work in pairs/groups when you don't want to work in pairs/groups, work life, slice of life

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have loved this story so much already, I did not expect so man tag requests! I'll do my best to live up to your expectations in this story that is pretty much writing itself. If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

The walk back to the library was longer than usual, but that was because you were now burdened with a task that was nearly impossible to complete with what was at your disposal. Not only was there so little provided, the personnel allotted was the complete opposite of what was necessary. It would have been laughable had it not been so pathetic. You, someone who normally worked with a set number of others, (most of which were virtual) was now forced into a group with two other members whom you have never even properly spoken to.

Loki probably hates me, he has to hate me. The man-person-god-prince-whatever-he-is has never even uttered a word to me until today! You thought back to the very first time you ever met the silent and brooding raven haired Asgardian.

It started off just like any other day, quiet and peaceful. It was just you, the books, and the sun. Though it was a state-of-the-art facility, the library was given a more soothing design with wooden shelving and tables, soft carpeting, comfortable seating of chairs and sofas, table lamps, and desks for laptops and computers to promote productivity and security. There were a few high-tech things, such as the book trolley being robotic and the security measures equal to the rest of the complex; but overall it evoked a sense of tradition.

You were leading the robot trolley filled with books through the shelves, returning items to their proper place, when you heard the chime at the door. Peeking your head out of the aisle, you were awestruck by the handsome young man whom you have never seen before, slowly walking in and looking around in what you could only describe as pure wonder. There was a sparkle of life in those blue eyes and the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Setting the book in hand back on the trolley, you stepped out and gave a big smile.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. I’m the librarian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You cheerily greeted him, but only received silence in return as he walked further into the room without even a passing glance. There’s no way he didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t shout, but I wasn’t quiet either. He seems to be really excited about the library, so maybe he was too busy looking around? She opened her mouth to let him know she was here to assist if he needed anything, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he really was just that eager.” You muttered to yourself as you finished your task and made your way to the main desk.

Who is he, anyway? He looks oddly familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it. You dug through your memories, trying to find a name to the face. When it was clear that it was not something that would come to you right away, he let it be for now and tried your best to see if the newcomer was still here. Had it not been for the occasional sightings, you would have sworn your mind was playing tricks on you. When he finally settled on a few books, you waited for him to come to the desk to check out.

“Excuse me, sir!” You shouted after him as he went straight towards the door. His nose was already buried in one book, and two more were under his arm. It was too late. The alarm at the door began ringing, and a female computer voice came through the speakers.

“Please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk. I repeat, please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk.” You watched his head snap up and look around for the source of the disembodied voice when holographic floating arrows directed his attention towards you. You gave a slight wave and put on your best welcoming smile once more. He looked down at the books he held briefly before making his way over to the desk.

“I guess you didn’t hear me, I was trying to get your attention before you left. It’s fine, people make that mistake most of them the time when they're busy. May I please see the books?” He held out your hands, but he deposited the stack on to the desk and pushed it towards you. Ok, you pulled them closer. “Your ID as well, please.” You held out your hand once more and the man simply stared at you, bewildered, with scrunched eyebrows and a growing frown. Lifting your lanyard up, you pointed to your pass holder, which held your ID. “Your ID card, the one that gives you access to the various parts of this facility.” The continued silence was deafening as one of his hands slipped into one of his pockets and he pulled out his ID and placed it on the table. “Uh, thank you,” you mumble as you pick up the piece of plastic and tapped it against a panel to the right of your monitor. Loki? You stared at the name for a moment, the gears slowly turning in your head as you scanned the books one by one before handing them and his ID back to him. “You have two weeks to return or extend your borrow time. Please do not damage them or return them late, you will incur some fees if so. Thank you, I hope you enjoy them. If you need any,” you began to strike up conversation once more, but he took the books and left without a word, leaving you to awkwardly watch.

“Talk about intimidating! I had no idea they brought him here!” You let out a heavy sigh and plopped back into your chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him without those big gold horns! Did he really just ignore me, though? Maybe he’s shy? I don’t recall ever hearing him speak, though,” you muttered to yourself, swinging left to right. “He must’ve proven that he’s not dangerous if he’s allowed to be part of the Avenger’s team.” You shrugged and let the topic slide for now. You would give him time to grow accustomed to you…or so you thought.

The encounters that followed were nearly identical to the first. He would come in and completely ignore you, read for hours, check out books, and leave. Not a word came from his lips, and he only ever looked at you with you were not sure whether it was disdain or disgust. At some point, you completely gave up on speaking to him and simply took note of the books he liked. When he would go searching for something of interest, you would set a book that you believed he would enjoy beside the sofa he usually sat. It was clear she chose well, since he would always read and check it out. With all this in mind, you had come to the conclusion he cannot speak for some reason, and you were a rude stranger constantly chattering on to him. Not wanting to spoil his time in the library, you quickly adapted and remained silent in return. 

You dryly laughed at the memories that dropped on you like bricks. You were clearly thinking too highly of yourself, since today you had heard him speak quite clearly. Why would someone remain quiet for so long? After all attempts made to strike up conversation? There was only one valid solution: he hated you. The reason, you were not sure, but it was the only thing that made sense, and that meant you only had one Asgardian to rely on for assistance in your assignment.

Thor can only do so much since he is a main team member and one that is sent out on multiple missions globally. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Even if they forced Loki to assist, he’ll also be sent on various missions as well. I’ll have to wait for them to return every single time because those take priority over what I need to do. Then there’s training for the missions, training to keep working well as a team, meeting, and the press! The work is never going to get done! You wanted to rip your hair out from frustration as you roughly tousled it about and let out a loud groan of frustration once inside your sanctuary, the library. “And this is all if they say yes to helping me out. I doubt Fury is going to demand it, and Agent Hill isn’t going to go out of her way to persuade them. Just forget it, Y/N, fix the report and file it. Then just go on with your day just like you always do.”

“Thor, Loki, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Agent Hill greeted the brothers that came into her office.

“Of course we would come. It is not often that you call for anyone other than Stark or Rogers.” Thor gave an amicable smile, while Loki simply took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “What is it that you wish to discuss with us?” Thor took the seat beside his brother.

“I won’t take much of your time, it is a new assignment that only the two of you can assist us with.” She took her seat once more and faced the two of them. “Director Fury has given a task to our Resources Management department, the lead of which works here at HQ with us. She is the Librarian. I’m sure you have seen her most of all.” She looked towards the younger prince.

Loki kept a passive outwardly expression while his mind quickly tried to pull out the information of this librarian. He was no stranger to meeting a multitude of people, but he was not foolish enough to assume he would be able to memorize everyone’s name and face. He was a prince of Asgard, the only people he needed to know of in detail ere dignitaries and other royals. This librarian was hardly someone he would have considered amongst the two categories.

“So what if I have?” He coolly questioned, unsure of what the agent was trying to get at with all of this. Is this the reason she requested an audience with us the week before? What task could they have possibly given such a department that requires our assistance? I am not some scribe! He wanted to snap at Hill, but he held his tongue. Though he was an Avenger now, he was still not fully trusted by anyone. He knew even Thor had his reservations, but they knew how the Mind Stone worked. They knew he was not lying, but they were clear in stating they did not know him and this chance was only given because of his brother, Thor.

“Well, it will make things easier for us. She needs assistance in translating all of our texts into English. The department needs to create digital copies of all our books and paper resources so that we can access them anywhere and any time. We do not have the means to simply assign large groups to this task, because it would lead to suffering in on ground missions and recon. The both of you have the ability of AllSpeak which can translate anything you say to English. When you are available, please assist the Librarian in translating the various texts to help speed up the process.”

“This is a side request?” Thor asked, wanting to clarify the priority of this.

“Yes, we do not wish for this to hinder any missions you are needed for. We are requesting you head to the library when you have the time to speak with her and set up a tentative schedule so that she can report back to Director Fury by the end of this month. By that time, she will have the necessary equipment as well. If he approves, then we can move forward in starting this task.”

“You want us to dictate books to her? So she can type it up? Do you not have programs that can instantly translate for you?” Loki frowned, crossing his arms in disapproval at this waste of time.

“Though there are plenty of translation software programs out there, none of them are a hundred percent accurate. They may translate directly word for word, which could destroy the concept of the passages. It may attempt to try to understand the concept, but get it completely wrong. Both of you will be able to read the text and understand the context of it, which will help her type a more accurate translation.” Thor loudly hummed as he considered the task. It was not something he was rather fond of, however he wanted to be of assistance if this would help the organization.

“I am to deployed on a mission with Rogers and Stark in a couple of days. I am not certain how long we will be away. Is it possible to extend the time of meeting with the Librarian?” 

“I am to head out with the spider and bird tomorrow evening and return in four days.” Loki added.

“Very well, I will have her look into your schedules and reach out to the both of you.  If it cannot be done together, I will have her meet with you separately. Your missions will always be a priority, and she is well aware of that. Thank you for your assistance, I’ll inform her of this development.” Agent Hill stood from her seat and the two brothers followed, stepping out of her office and making their way towards the common room.

“Have you actually met this Librarian, brother?” Thor was the one to break the silence.

“I have not the faintest clue on whom they are referring to. No one speaks to me in this sterile place, how am I supposed to meet anyone?” He scoffed. Who would want to talk to a monster such as me? “It doesn’t matter, we will meet this woman at some point and better understand this waste of time that we are being dragged into. If you’ll excuse me, I have a debriefing to sit through.” He turned down the hall on their left, leaving Thor with the harsh words of his reality.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie

#loki #loki marvel #loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #mcu #loki fic #loki fiction #loki fanfiction #y/n reader #y/n #your name #reader insert #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #agents of shield #shield agent reader #S #s.h.i.e.l.d. #tom hiddleston #loki of asgard #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #loki avengers

[casually-slips-into-coma]

spoilers for iwtv s2e4

my thoughts after a rewatch:

i know claudia hates the baby loves window play but she ate up that little song

the lulu role really is so humiliating :(

louis’ expressions whenever he watches these plays always kills me lmao he hates theater kids

louis and armand talking over each other to daniel

armands theater notes lol

claudia no eyebrow big eyeliner look is kinda cunty ngl

im a fan of sam the irish vampire

making claudia be lulu all the time oooh armand i hate u so bad

almost threw up watching louis and armand give different answers to the companion question IN FRONT OF THE COVEN that shit was so embarrassing

i wouldve kms if i was armand

vamp catfight

armand stuck in this situationship dont worry king we’ve all been there😔

literally telling each other i love you and still having the what are we conversation

“do you notice how hot the room gets when you two talk about the secret” plsssss

louis only able to use the fire gift when hes angry👀👀 gee i wonder if thats gonna come back👀👀👀👀👀

louis going🤨🤨 to the schizophrenia question like it came out of nowhere

armands face while louis talked about dreamstat why not just shoot me in the head

loving these dutch angles whenever daniel dissociates and gets an armand memory

santiago looks so good in the gold suit? robe thing??

claudia santiago friendship is killing me santiago i know what u are

claudia killing the guy singing baby lu

i like that you can tell claudias french has gotten better. nice small detail

i love scenes of louis and claudia just talking about non vampire things

santiago mimicking louis was pretty cool

buffoon sighting!!!

whole dinner scene bangs

the guy saying theres smth “fragile” about armand in the photo louis took and louis saying “no he’s anything but” and then the guy saying “you’ve captured the soul he hides” 🤌🤌

louis would never survive a 4 hour art school critique

daniel telling a girl he’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head??????

claudeline truthers how are we feeling

context for the eating paper clip in the trailer

romeo!!

armand is so down bad its sick

madeline tailoring a yellow dress for claudia😟😟

the whole claudeline interaction was great

amadeo☹️🔫

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF!!!!!!!

the way armand talks about marius

MARIUS KILL YOURSELF x2!!!!!!

“no one has painted me in 400 years” fuck

madeline period blood moment. theres so much here about femininity and maturing might make a separate post about this scene

armand pinning claudia against a wall armand i hate you so bad

we already know that armand is powerful but seeing him choke and manhandle santiago really solidified that i think

picked another one over me!!

delainey is ACTINGGGGG

louis not believing claudia about armand ooooh louis i hate you so bad

love makes you stupid clock it

louis still referring to claudia as his daughter in his head (thru dreamstat)

louis just actively talking to himself girl do that in your head

park bench moment <3

“wanker” i giggled sorry

that suit is his favorite on him :(

“im a little wet” and armand instantly pulling out an umbrella, armand lighting his cigarette, armand calling him maitre

louis calling him arun and armand calling him maitre and then louis throwing away the lighter this fucking scene is cinematic art

the other coven members calling santiago maitre

i kinda like that daniel can hear them arguing from another room. i feel like its a very human experience? really domestic? even given the circumstances

armands eyes were never brown!!!

san francisco flashback episode might kill me im not kidding

insane way to end the episode

ok this was much longer than i thought it would be but this episode has a lot in it. each episode gets better and better and this is definitely my favorite of the season so far.

i am LOVING louis and armands relationship and also both of their story arcs and characterizations. their dynamic is kind of the opposite of what i, and i think a lot of other people, expected but it still makes total sense and im enjoying it a lot

god i love this show

#iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #vampterview #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #loumand #iwtv s2e4

[mew-ya]

i love maren, he's so cool!!! has he met luffy???

YES, there's a short filler arc between Zou and Whole Cake Island where Maren and Luffy meet briefly!!! it's called Dinner Island!! they also may have met during marineford but considering how huge it was, I haven't really written Maren to be at the center of it, as he's part of the WBP 8th Division.

I also have this cute (definitely canon) art of Luffy stealing off Kata and Maren's plates

click thru for an overview of Maren's filler arc!

while on their way to Totto Land, the Sanji Retrieval Team nearly starves. they come across a curious sign floating in the water that says "Free Dinner!* This Way!" with a very small footnote that says "*within reason". Luffy immediately turns the ship in the direction of the sign, while Nami explains it's obviously a trap, but they dont have many other options as luffy cooked all of their rations into inedible sludge...

they arrive at a small but very delicuous looking island, and are immediately greeted by its residents. no one seems to mind that they are pirates and everyone seems quite happy. they're quickly brought to a large feast where the crew is brought plates upon plates of free food, until Luffy exhausts their food sources and frustrates the local leadership. they pull out a document that has the words "Free Dinner Within Reason" highlighted over and over, and explain that Luffy was NOT being reasonable. He laughs about it then is dragged off to do dishes in prison with a comically full stomach. Nami lets him figure that one out on his own.

underneath the island is a large prison with tons of unwashed forks and knives and plates stacked up by the sides. Luffy makes a stink face and knocks over a bunch of plates on accident, then notices a large prison cell in the corner with a sitting dark figure.

"hey." it calls out.

Luffy responds with an "oyy?? you eat a lot too?" and Maren steps into the light, a huge porcupinefish fishman with a Whitebeard Pirates tattoo showing through a rip on his pant leg.

"sure. but can't really compare to that stuff over in totto land. you can even eat the chairs there. won't catch me goin back there again though--" Maren continues to talk, revealing all sorts of insider details and information about Totto Land and its resident pirate crew, but Luffy stops listening and starts thinking about buildings and objects and vehicles made of food.

Maren notices Luffy spacing out and drooling over unreal food and laughs. "youre just like Ace said!" but Luffy doesn't notice.

"Oy kid," Luffy snaps out of it and looks at Maren. "I'll get you outta here. they just throw people in here to scare em. im maren by the way."

Maren shrinks down to normal human size and his spines disappear from his back, allowing him to step easily through the large prison bars. he opens Luffy's prison door and points towards the exit, "That'll get you back to your ship." then Maren walks back into his cell and inhales deeply, getting huge again. He then lays down on the big jail bed and turns away "now be quiet, I'm sleepin."

and Luffy yells "Thanks balloon guy!!!" as he runs off, but Maren is already passed tf out.

luffy gets back on the sunny and recounts his adventure, completely unable to repeat any of the details about Totto Land or the Charlotte family Maren passed onto him about their coming adventure.

and that's my quick story of Luffy and Maren actually meeting ❣️

#dinner island #mew art #maren #mew oc #katamaren #one piece oc #mew talks #mew writes #kinda #monkey d. luffy

[doberbutts]

No idea if you've played Hades or Hades 2, but I saw Hephaestus's design and I feel like you'd be a Fan of him (I'm glad I decided to image search it because I was just going to suggest you Google him, but like all the images are fanmade. This one is legit, though it's kinda blurry. I'm not at home, so I can't take a screenshot, and I can't find any better quality pics)

Oh yes so little known fact about me, mostly bc this is a dog blog and I don't share (all of) my videogame tastes here... Supergiant is my favorite indie company and I have loved literally everything they've put out since Bastion. The art direction, the sound design, the voice work, the stories, the game play itself... truly a company that can do no wrong in my eyes.

(This is not an invitation for anyone to send me drama I do not caaaaaaaaaare I love Supergiant)

Currently I really cannot afford to buy any videogames but the second Hades 2 is within my budget to spend money again I'm buying it. I have always supported this dev, I'll always throw money at them for EA and also for the full game plus soundtrack.

[kabutoden]

posting

sorry for not posting more: stuff is going on. i cant find the words to talk about it to everyone i promise ill be ok, im mostly just stressed about having to move. its a long story. i rlly want to answer asks but also work on all my other projects, ill see what i cant do before i get back into work next week. thanks everyone love you all, the asks ive been getting r really great (rq will be closed soon, thanks 2 everyone who read the rules and have literally been so fucking nice to me) ive made some fucking awesome dolorosa and signless art ive just been too tuckered out to post it. peace

#you read the rules and it means so much to me #bugstuck #buggy trolls #resuming soon hopefully #UGH i need to post my personal project stuff too thats just hardddd!!! #ok bye now #kabuto rambles

[zybynarx]

Here is the 2nd art piece I did for the @cdrcrossoverbang event! I got paired up with the incredible @thecadenceimperfect for this event and she came up with an amazing story! Read it here!

More art notes found bellow!

During the time we were given to send in our ideas for the event, I had already chosen my first one but was debating on doing a second one. The FNAF movie came out during that time and it instantly sold me to the idea of doing a 2nd piece because it reminded me of how I had always loved the idea of a Supernatural and FNAF crossover episode. Of course, we didn't really get that in the show, but Cadence worked her magic and made a story that was exactly what I would have imagined it going as an episode from the show!

It was quite the challenge getting the animatronics to look just right. I used a lot of references but still couldn't draw them in a way where I was satisfied, so I struggled for a long time. Finally, I said, "Screw it, let me do it again in my style," and they finally came out looking a way that I really liked!

The banner is something that I'm super proud of! I had the idea since the beginning but was a bit hesitant since it would incorporate something I wasn't familiar with... animation. But it turned out that I didn't need to animate anything! After a couple of hours struggling with my art program and trying to speed run animation lessons, I thought to myself, "Hey zyb, you're a film editor. There's gotta be a tutorial on how to do this glitch effect you can get through faster." And sure enough, I found something! I placed the two drawings in my editing program, found a glitch effect, exported, put it through a "vid to gif" converter, and BAM! Glitch banner! I'm very proud of it and my author absolutely loved it!

This bang was fantastic and I gotta send my thanks out to the mods who put this together! It's been crazy fun!

And of course, a huge thanks to the wicked talented Cadence! You never fail to blow me away with the stories you write! You are the true super star because of all the craziness happening in your life and you still were able to come out with an amazing fic! You're awesome and I feel so honored to have gotten to work with you again! Thank you! 🥰🥰🥰

Thanks for reading if you came down here! Now if you haven't done so already, GO READ THE STORY!!

#supernatural #destiel #cdrcrossoverbang #fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf crossover #fanart #zy art