#can you tell im trying to avoid filters

[springlock-suits]

I need to make a tag for nsfw posts, any ideas?

[sturniolohouse]

Do Not Wait - M.S

a/n: this got heavier than i planned initially but i just leaned into wherever the story took me. it's also very reader focused, which i realized way too late. but, do not fret, matt is still in it :) lmk if you'd like me to continue this as a series... i hope yall like it, im proud of it.

summary: while matt is away, reader learns and struggles with some unexpected news that will change both their lives forever.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, vomit, blood, death, grief, panic attacks, cursing. (no use of y/n)

word count: 11.7k

song: do not wait - wallows

"And it gets worse before it gets better That's one thing that I have come to know Just so you know"

“I hate to leave you like this,” Matt sighs, pushing my hair out of my face as his dark silhouette sits beside me on the bed.

I lay curled up in a ball after spending majority of the night sick. I feel terrible because I kept Matt up when he had to be up early for his flight to Chicago today.

Despite my attempts to avoid disturbing him, he spent most of the night beside me, rubbing my back while I hunched over the toilet and bringing me water.

I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position as my restlessness and nausea worsen by the second.

Matt’s hand touches my forehead, gently pushing my hair back and mindlessly scratching my head. I sit up as another wave of nausea twists my stomach, and I take a deep breath, hoping to suppress it. Matt sits up behind me, his hand now rubbing my back as I lean over the side of the bed with my head between my knees.

Thankfully, a moment later the wave of sickness passes and I sit up straight with a small groan as my body aches.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch. I don’t want to get you sick, and you have to be up in a few hours,” I croak, but he protests, gently pulling me back into bed.

"I don't give a fuck. I'll sleep on the plane, you're staying right here,"

As the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, Matt’s alarm goes off. By then, we had maybe collectively slept an hour and I knew he must have been exhausted. He got ready quietly trying his best not to disturb me, but I was already awake.

I don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight.

He places the back of his hand on my forehead, then my cheek, his touch gentle and searching.

“You still don’t have a fever...I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” He sighs, his fingers sifting through my hair with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

Even with the faint light of dawn as our only source, I can still make out his concerned expression as he scans my face.

“I've never been this sick before. It must be a bug,” My voice is hoarse from repeatedly throwing up.

“Please, stay here with Nick while I’m gone so you have someone to look after you. I’m gonna text him now so he sees it when he wakes up. God, I don’t even want to go anymore,” He wipes his hand down his face in stress and I shake my head.

“No, stop, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll stay here with Nick. Please don’t be late for your flight,” I insist, gripping his hand weakly. “I’m going to make some tea and try to get some rest.” I go to get up but he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll make you tea, while we wait for the Uber. What do you want, mint?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing up and down my hip.

I nod weakly, thanking him.

I doze off a bit while he goes to make my tea, the repercussion of not sleeping catching up to me. When I open my eyes again, he’s setting my steaming mug on the bedside shelf carefully and placing two advils next to it.

“Text me when you wake up? And let me know if you have to go to urgent care, I’ll send you an Uber.” He tells me softly, his voice trembling with an emotion he’s trying to hide.

His reluctance to leave is evident in every line of his face.

I nod tiredly, “Mm, text me when you and Chris land. Have fun in Chicago. I love you.”

“I love you,” He kisses my forehead, before grabbing his suitcase by his bedroom door and leaving.

I was able to sleep a couple of more hours before I woke up again, dry heaving into the toilet because I quite literally had nothing left in my stomach.

I showered, brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen, searching for something bland to settle my stomach. I had decided to grab a rice cake and made more mint tea before I sprawled out on the couch in one of Matt’s hoodies.

It’s not the first time he’s been away, but this time, I miss him more than I anticipated. Even the scent of his hoodie brings a wave of emotion that catches me off guard.

We’ve never been one of those couples that spends every second of every day together anyway. Not even when we first started dating. We’ve always given each other the space we need.

But I must admit I could go for one of his hugs right now.

It’s around 10 AM when Nick comes down stairs and his face tells me everything I need to know about my appearance.

“I know, I look like shit.” I deadpan and he covers his mouth with wide eyes.

“I got Matt’s texts...I thought that motherfucker was being dramatic. Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand on his chest.

“Well, I haven’t thrown up in three hours, so that’s a new record. Your poor brother, I kept him up all night,”

“He'll live, do you want to go to urgent care?”

“No, I’ll wait it out. It’s gotta pass and I was able to keep my breakfast down.” I wave a hand.

Nick goes to make his own breakfast, slicing an apple before coming over to sit on the couch with me.

“Apple?” He offers me, munching on his own bite.

I decline shaking my head with a frown.

Nick wanted to watch Love Island, so I let him change the TV, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. As the sounds of the show filled the room, I found myself dozing off, giving in to the rest my body needs.

When I wake up, I have a blanket over me and Nick is editing on his laptop.

He notices me move and takes his headphones off one ear.

“Hey, you feeling better? Matt keeps pestering me for updates,” He shows me his phone with messages from a worried Matt.

I sigh, “Jesus...I’ll call him. But yes, I feel better now that I've gotten some sleep.” I get up and stretch my body, wincing at my achy muscles.

“How long was I out?” I ask grabbing my phone to see my own set of messages from Matt.

Kid worries too much.

“About 3 hours, you were knocked out. I’m gonna order food, are you hungry for anything?” He asks and my stomach rumbles at the thought of one food.

“I could fuck up some tacos right now,” I raise an eyebrow at him at my suggestion.

“I like the way you’re thinking.” He snaps his fingers pointing at me in agreement.

“Birria tacos for me and a Diet Coke. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go call your brother before he has a heart attack.” I say walking to Matt’s room and calling him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” He breaths out, his voice soft.

“What did I tell you about worrying about me?” I tease him and he laughs, sounding relieved.

"Hi!" I heard Chris shout in the background, before I heard a door close and Matt sigh. I'm guessing he went into a separate room.

“If you saw the state you were in before I left this morning, you’d be worried too. I take it you’re feeling better? Heard you napped,” He speaks up again, talking at a normal volume now.

“I was physically feeling the state I was in. But, yeah, a little better after my nap. How was your flight?” I ask, playing with the trinkets on his shelves.

“Besides me worrying the entire flight about you dehydrating and dying? Fine. A little turbulence, but nothing crazy.”

“Okay, drama, relax. I’m staying hydrated, I’ve napped, Nick and I are about to order some tacos. It must have just been a bug. I must admit, you're very cute when you worry about me though.” I smile and he hums shly.

A beat of silence goes by and I look at the photobooth picture of Matt and I on his wall.

“I miss you,” I admit to him, leaning down to inhale the collar of his sweatshirt on me.

“I miss you too. You know I haven't even been gone 12 hours though,” He reminds me, sounding amused at my unexpected sappyness.

I sigh, “I know,”

Suddenly I have a lump of emotion in my throat and he automatically hears the switch of my tone.

“Hey woah, what happened? Why are you upset?” He sounds panicked.

“Oh my god, sorry. I don’t know. I’m not even sad,” I choke back my tears.

“Doesn’t sound like it.." He doesn't sound convinced. "Do I need to come home?" He says next and I'm immediately objecting.

“What! No. Matt, I promise I’m fine.” I tell him quickly, taking off my hoodie as I begin to overheat.

“I love you... I’ll be back before you know it, okay? S'nothing we haven’t done before.” He reminds me softly and my bottom lip wobbles.

“Mhm,” I manage to get out and he sighs again.

“Sweetheart... You’re telling me not to be worried, but I’m beyond worried. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He pleads and I shake my head even though he can't see me.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you...I-i think I just needed to cry, and missing you isn’t helping because I wish I could hug you but you’re so f-far,” I hiccup.

“Okay, deep breaths, how about you take a nice hot shower–maybe a bath. Use Nick’s bath and when you’re done, you can eat your tacos and you’ll feel better. Okay? Listen, Chris and I are about to leave for dinner, are you going to be alright?” He checks in, sounding hesitant to hang up.

“Yes, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m sorry. I must be starting my period soon.” I compose myself, trying to ignore the sudden ache in my heart.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice gentle and sweet.

Any other time, he’d be teasing me for being a crybaby—lovingly, of course—but I think he senses that my emotions are genuinely beyond my control right now.

“I love you,” he says again with emphasis, wanting to hear me say it back.

“I love you, so much," I say weakly, "Have fun at dinner and tell Chris I said hi.” I tell him, wiping my eyes.

“Will do. I’ll call you when we get back.” He says goodbye, hanging up.

I take a deep breath and I shake my head, feeling frustrated with my poorly-timed emotions. I feel terrible for worrying him more, I wanted this trip for him to be fun. Chris had really been looking forward to going with Matt—it had become a sort of tradition for the two of them. I need to get my emotions under control.

I wince again as I feel the heaviness and soreness in my breasts. Sighing, I go to my phone and check my period app to see when this torture will be over.

My stomach drops when I open the app and see I'm 13 days late.

My head feels dizzy suddenly and I pinch my eyes closed as the pit in my stomach spurs on more nausea. I lay back and put my arm over my eyes and take deep breaths.

My mind races, but I can’t seem to focus on one thought.

No, I can’t be.

I’m just stressed, that’s all.

I have an IUD, it's not possible.

But everything's adding up; the nausea, heightened emotions, late period...

I sit up slowly, feeling the weight of the realization settle on me. My heart pounds in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the flood of emotions threatening to drown me. But there’s no escaping this.

With trembling hands, I go to call Matt back, my thumb hovers over the call button but I stop myself. He’s going to dinner right now, on the opposite side of the country.

I can't burden him with this, not when I don’t even know for sure.

Dropping my phone onto the bed beside me, I try to self soothe, taking deep breaths to steady myself, but the anxiety is relentless.

I walk out of the room and Nick is asking me what kind of salsa I want with my tacos before he looks up at me. He immediately furrows his brows in worry.

“Hey–what's going on, are you okay?” He sits up and places his laptop on the coffee table.

“I-I can't breath,” I gasp, reaching out for him, feeling like a little kid.

He instantly stands up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“What’s happened? Deep breaths, big deep breaths. There you go,” He rubs my back and I breath deeply with him.

My cheek smushed into his chest as I listen to the beating of his heart to help ground me. I pull away, still trembling and shake my head, unsure if I should even be telling Nick this.

This should be Matt.

Nick's eyes search mine, sensing my hesitancy. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he says softly, his hands rubbing my shoulders.

I bite my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and desperation.

I don’t want to drag Nick into something so personal, but this is too overwhelming to keep bottled up.

“I… I think I might be pregnant,” I finally whisper, the words barely escaping my lips.

Saying it out loud makes it feel all the more real, and the weight of it presses down on me like a ton of bricks.

Nick’s expression shifts from worry to shock, his mouth falling agape and silence ringing between us. Once he hears me whimper, he snaps out of it and brings me back into a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, okay–it's okay, um…” His voice wavers, and I can feel his heart racing against my cheek.

For a moment, it seems like he’s trying to find the right words, but all that comes out is a nervous laugh.

“This is… wow, this is big. I'm sorry– I don't know what else to say right now,” His voice high pitched and shaky.

I can’t help but let out a shaky laugh with him, even through my anxiety.

“Yeah, big,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nick pulls back just enough to look at me, his uncertainty showing in the way his eyes dart around, trying to process everything at once.

“I mean, I’m no expert on this—obviously—but we'll figure this out. You're gonna be okay, everything's gonna be okay.”

His reassurance is genuine, but I can see he's trying to convince himself too; a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

This is uncharted territory for both of us.

Nick and I had decided to order the tests along with the food, killing two birds with one stone. He’s doing his best to stay calm for my sake, but the trembling of his hands as he places the order is hard to miss.

"Okay, tacos and tests are on the way. I got, well, all of them because I don't know which one is best. I even got ice cream. Fuck, when did it get so hot in here? I'm overheating–are you overheating?" He says, his words moving a mile a minute as he fans himself with his shirt.

I can't help but to laugh as his nerves show and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I know you're the one potentially knocked up by my idiot brother but I'm just so nervous. I'm sweating like a monster," His voice cracks.

"Do you mind if I use your bath?" I ask and he nods right away.

“Are you kidding? Of course, go ahead. Someone has to use it. I’m gonna…Well, I’ll just wait out here and try to chill.” He gives me a quick, reassuring smile, though it’s clear he’s still on edge.

I head to his bathroom and try to forget about my racing thoughts.

I turn the faucet on and put in some bath salts, checking the temperature before I step over to the vanity mirror. I take a look at my appearance and notice the puffiness in my face right away. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bloodshot.

I blow out a raspberry as I undress and get into the hot water.

The heat soothes my aching muscles and clears my mind. I soaked for a while, even draining a bit of the water and refilling the tub with more hot water. Once I feel myself pruning, I decide it's time I get out.

As I dry myself off, I notice light blood on the towel. My heart races, and I quickly check again—I'm bleeding. Very lightly, but there’s blood.

Relief floods through me, and I almost cry again, this time from the emotional whiplash. My legs feel shaky, so I sit down on the edge of the tub to steady myself, my breath coming out in shaky bursts.

Clutching the towel to my chest, I close my eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

“Thank God,” I whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I try not to dwell on the small part of me that almost wanted to feel disappointed. Maybe even mourning the part of me that might have embraced being pregnant–excited, even.

Instead, I focus on center of my emotions, the part where a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Eventually, I pull myself together, cleaning myself up and getting dressed.

When I step out of the bathroom, Nick is on his bed, clearly trying to keep himself distracted. My eyes go to the food and the tests at the foot of the bed.

As soon as he sees me, he shoots up, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft. I nod, a small smile breaking through the lingering anxiety.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “I uh…I got my period, I think,”

Nick’s face lights up with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Oh, thank God,” he shouts, “This is great fucking news—right?” He checks in and I nod.

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little dazed by how quickly everything has turned around. “I think we’re in the clear. We won't be needing those tests, I'll pay you back for them,"

Nick ignores me, pulling me into a bear hug, his arms so tight around me, I can barely breath.

“Shut up I don't care,” he says, “You don't have a parasite in you!" He cheers, jumping us up and down.

We both let out laughs, the tension that had been looming over us now replaced with a lightness.

“Let’s eat,” I suggest, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Nick nods, "Couldn't agree more,"

We sit on his bed and for the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe.

As we dig into the tacos, Nick puts Love Island back on and we rot in bed for a few hours.

But even as we talk and laugh, there's still a pit in my stomach. A small portion of me can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over yet.

Yeah, there's was blood. But it was different than my normal period. It was lighter.

I try not to panic, but I can't help but feel like my intuition is trying to tell me something. For now, I push my thoughts aside, focusing on Nick beside me yelling at the annoying horny people on his TV.

Nick offered for me to sleep in his room but I declined, wanting to sleep in Matt's bed.

Matt never called me, but he texted me apologizing and checking in on me. I listened to a voice memo he sent me of all they did today and I was genuinely glad he was having fun, so I didn't mind him not calling.

Plus, I'm not entirely sure I'm in the right state of mind to have a conversation with him right now. I wouldn't be able to keep today's events to myself.

I know I can’t keep him in the dark—I need to tell him what’s going on.

I glance at the stack of tests on his dresser and sigh. The bleeding from earlier has stopped, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.

I know I’ll have to take those tests, even if only for clarity. But for now, I’m going to force myself to sleep.

I find myself in a place that feels both familiar and strange. It's warm, the sun showering the garden and I immediately know I'm in my grandmother's backyard.

The breeze picks up, carrying the scent of blooming flowers—lilies, hyacinths, peonies, and marigolds—enveloping me in a peacefulness that feels like a comforting blanket.

I walk along the familiar stone path, my fingers grazing the soft petals of the flowers. Each step feeling like a compelling, magnetic pull, guiding me deeper into the garden.

I see her then–my grandmother, seated on a wooden bench beneath the shade of the large oak tree I used to climb as a child.

My breath hitches, she doesn't look sick. Her smile is lively, her cheeks rosy and the green in her eyes vibrant.

But there’s something else different, a kind of ethereal glow about her that sends a chill down my spine.

“Come here, my girl,” she says, her voice soft and inviting.

I walk over to her, feeling a strange mix of emotions: comfort, longing, and an inexplicable sadness.

I sit down beside her and she takes my hand in hers, her touch warm and reassuring.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion, unable to fathom her not sick in a hospital bed.

She smiles, her eyes full of love. “I haven't gone anywhere."

There’s a pause as I try to process her words, but then she looks at me knowingly, another shiver down my spine.

"You're glowing," She hums, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I look at her confused until she places a hand to my stomach. My breath hitches and I can't control the tear that rolls down my cheek.

I shake my head in disbelief, "How...d-do you know?" I whisper, my voice getting lost in the intoxicating breeze.

It's then that I feel a deep flutter in my stomach, one that I can't describe.

I place my hand over my grandmother's that still rests on my stomach. The flutter intensifies, my heart mimicking the pattern as warmth blooms in my chest. The feeling is overwhelming.

An unexpected, joyous sob escapes my lips before I can stop it, tears blurring my vision.

“You're both going to be okay,” My grandmother says softly, gently wiping away my tears.

My lip wobbles and I let out a shaky breath before she speaks up again.

“She’s strong too, just like you.”

“She..?” I squeak. My grandmother’s smile returns, softer this time and she nods.

A wave of shock and confusion washes over me, but before I can ask more, the garden begins to fade. The colors bleeding into each other until everything is a swirl of light.

Her voice echoes as the dream dissolves, “Don't be afraid, Petal.”

I shoot up, my heart racing, my face soaked in tears and my body covered in a cold sweat. I feel disoriented as I take in my surroundings and my mind tries to grasp the remnants of the dream.

My grandmother’s face, her words, the fluttering in my stomach. But now, that fluttering has turned into a twisting feeling in my gut.

Something was wrong.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my tangled, fuzzy thoughts. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my phone.

It’s my mom.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep and confusion.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then my mom’s voice comes through, shaky and heavy with emotion.

“Honey...I'm sorry I'm calling you so early, but it’s Grandma....Sh-she passed in her sleep early this morning.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. She continues to talk but I can't hear her, my ears ring and time slows down.

A flood of emotions overcome me.

Grief, shock, and the strange sense that the dream was more than just a figment of my imagination.

As the reality of her passing sinks in, I’m left with the weight of her final words to me. She was telling me something important, something I can’t ignore anymore.

My stomach twists again and I bolt to the bathroom where I throw up until I'm dry heaving into the toilet.

-

I'm not even shocked when the test immediately shows up positive. I stare blankly at the two pink lines, the only hint of emotion is the tremor in my hand as I grab the test and chuck it into the trash can.

I feel numb.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I see the emptiness in my eyes, the darkness encasing them. The person staring back is a stranger.

I'm pregnant.

I should be feeling joy, maybe even excitement—I want to at least, but all I feel is nothing. My experience overshadowed by my grief. By the anomaly of this situation, how this could have happened.

I have an IUD, I was bleeding, but here we are.

I wanted Matt to be the first to know, to share in that moment with him, but now everything feels wrong, out of order.

I feel robbed of the happiness I should be feeling.

I step into the shower and let the scalding hot water claw at my skin. I finally let myself break down, grief rattling through me and slicing me open.

My dream replays in my mind over and over again. My grandmother's eyes, her warmth, her words, her hand on my stomach.

“You’re both going to be okay,”

My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. I press my palm into my abdomen, expecting to feel that flutter, desperate to feel any sort of connection with the life that's there–to cling to the intense joy from my dream...but there's nothing.

It was ripped away from me from the moment I woke up.

“She’s strong too, just like you,”

I whimper, the sound dissolving into the rush of the water.

I don’t feel strong. I feel weak.

My grandmother told me not to be afraid, but I can’t escape this overwhelming anxiety, the suffocating uncertainty that engulfs me.

The tightness in my chest, the heaviness in my heart, the deep-seated guilt that festers within me.

I cry and cry and cry until I can’t anymore, until the tears run dry, leaving only the ache in my chest.

When the water turns cold and the sun fully rises, is when I finally get out. My feet drag beneath me as I walk back into Matt's room and get dressed.

I pull on one of Matt's crewnecks and some sweats before I go into the kitchen to make a tea.

I make myself an Earl Grey, my grandmother's favorite.

I sit down at the dining table and book the first flight back home to Maine, which is tomorrow morning. My mom and I spoke again and she told me the funeral isn't until next week, but I wanted to be there for her. I couldn’t stay here right now.

My stomach growls loudly and I press my palms into my eye sockets. I suppose I should really eat something with substance, especially now.

I grab the berries from the fridge that are in their last leg, washing them before forcing myself to eat. The tartness of the blueberries sparks a memory of helping my grandmother make blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings. I smile sadly at the fond memory of being her little sous chef.

When 7 AM rolls around, restlessness overtakes me and I step outside, sitting in the front stoop before calling Matt.

"You're up early," His voice thick with sleep as he greets me through the line.

"Hey," I say weakly, letting out a sigh as I gaze up at the clear sky. There's not a single cloud in sight.

"What's wrong?" His tone immediately shifts to concern.

"Matt... my grandma passed this morning," I start, my voice trembling slightly.

I omit the dream and the positive pregnancy test in his bathroom, grateful that he can't see my face.

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "I'm so sorry. I know she was sick for a while... Are you doing okay? How's your mom?"

"I'm... managing. And my mom, she's actually doing okay. I think we're all relieved in a way, you know? It was only a matter of time. I'm just glad she's not suffering anymore," I navigate my feelings about her passing, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Of course," His voice is so soft, fueling my longing for his touch.

"Do you think…there's any way you can change your flight on Tuesday to go to Maine? The funeral isn’t until next Thursday, but I’m getting there tomorrow afternoon." I ask, playing with a loose string on my sweatpants.

"Of course, I'll look at flights right now," he responds without hesitation.

"Thank you, I just....I need you there," I tell him, feeling a tightness in my chest when I avoid mentioning the conversation we need to have.

"I'll be there. I found a flight that will get me there tomorrow night."

"Matt–" I start to protest.

"I already changed it. No refunds," He cuts me off, his voice firm. "Sweetheart, you need me, I'm not going to make you wait until fucking Tuesday."

"What about the rest of your trip? You'll miss the rest of the festival, and Chris–" I try and reason with him.

"Listen to me carefully...I don't give a fuck about the festival. You need me there, and I'm going to be there. Chris will be fine, he's a big boy. He has Sam here with him and they'll fly back to LA together," His tone leaving no room for argument, his mind was made up.

A small, grateful smile tugs at my lips as tears well up in my eyes.

"I love you," I manage to say, my voice trembles with emotion.

"I love you, so much it hurts. I wish I could hug you right now but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I’m gonna go talk to Chris, text me or call me if you need me. I mean it, kid."

“I will,” I promise, ending the call and looking up at the sky again, wrapping my arms around myself as the cool morning air brushes against my skin.

I take a deep breath, the air filling my lungs grounding me. As I exhale, I try to focus on the one thing I know for sure—I may not feel strong, but I need to be and not just for myself, but for the life growing inside of me.

My grandmother's words echo in my mind.

"Don't be afraid, Petal."

–

Nick wakes up shortly after, only taking one look at me before I’m breaking down again—the weight of everything crashing down on me like another tidal wave.

I tell him everything, my dream, my grandmother's passing, I show him the positive pregnancy test.

I cry into his chest, feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm just s-so confused," I manage to say between sobs. "In my dream, I was so happy... everything felt right. I felt connected with..." My words trail off, dissolving into incoherent blubbering.

Nick just listens, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.

"Listen," he begins softly, "your body is under a lot of stress right now. You just found out about your grandma, and then this very unexpected news on top of it… Every single emotion you’re feeling is normal, and 100 percent valid. But you have so many people by your side who love you and will help you through this, no matter what you decide..."

I sniffle, trying to regulate my breathing as I take in his words.

"I'm angry, too," I admit, my voice cracking with the strain of holding it all in. "This is so unfair. The timing of this couldn't be worse... I can't even talk to Matt and I feel awful keeping this from him. He shouldn't have to find out like this."

"Everything is going to be okay, deep breaths," Nick repeats, his voice calm as he helps me process the flood of emotions.

I blow out a raspberry, pulling back and running my hands down my face in frustration. When I look at him, he's watching me cautiously, trying to read my expression.

"I'm pregnant," I say softly, the words finally leaving my lips for the first time.

A mix of emotions swirls in my chest and stomach—fear, uncertainty, a strange kind of acceptance.

Nick nods slowly, his eyes still scanning my face, and for a moment, I find myself imagining if this was me telling Matt.

More dread fills me.

How will he react? Will he be the support I need?

We’ve talked about having kids before. They were always in the cards for us, but never this soon.

We only just started to discuss getting our own place and now our lives are going to be changing forever.

Nick helped me pack as I tried to arrange a last-minute appointment to confirm my pregnancy, which proved to be quite the ordeal.

The receptionists initially inform me that they didn't have any openings for weeks. However, when I mention the IUD and a positive pregnancy test, the urgency in their voice shifted dramatically.

They told me to come in right away.

The urgency in the receptionists voice on the phone didn’t help my nerves. Neither when they took me straight into an examination room the minute I told them my name.

They take my vitals, draw my blood and give me a cup to pee in.

I left Nick in the waiting room, dressing down into the gown they placed neatly on the exam chair. I look around at the diagrams of the fetuses and the posters of the development. I’ve seen these countless times and never thought twice, but this time I feel unsettled.

I swallow thickly and sit on the loud crinkly paper with the anticipation of the doctor coming in soon.

There’s a soft double knock on the door before a head of wild, curly hair peeks in.

“Hello, hello. I’m Dr. Sullivan,” She says washing her hands and sitting down on the swivel stool next to the examination chair.

The woman has a mane of big, unruly curls that frame her face, with chunky black square-framed glasses perched on her slightly humped nose, drawing attention to her bright hazel eyes. A wide smile, complete with a distinctive gap between her two front teeth, radiates warmth and adds to her quirky charm. She almost seems like a character out of a cartoon—lanky, with an energetic, bouncy stride that matches her bubbly personality. She can't be much older than my mother.

"So, you are in fact pregnant. The lab results confirmed the presence of HCG, which is the hormone produced during pregnancy. "

“Do you have any idea how this happened? I mean, obviously I know how it happened but, I have an IUD.” I say, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

She nods dramatically, her lips pressing into a line as she listens to my concerns.

“Unfortunately, no birth control is 100 percent effective. In most cases, the IUD might have been displaced, or in some instances, the body rejects the device without you knowing. I actually would like to get clarity on that with an ultrasound, but I think it’s important for you to know the risks of this scenario here.” She says, turning slightly more serious.

“Risks?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she says softly, “There is a possibility that, due to you having an IUD, this pregnancy may not be viable. Having an IUD increases the risk of what we call an ectopic pregnancy... are you familiar with that term?” Her hazel eyes lock onto mine and I shake my head, my heart starting to pound.

“Well, because you have a contraceptive device in the space where a fetus would normally develop, there's a risk that the pregnancy could occur outside the uterus. Typically the egg will implant itself in the fallopian tubes, which cannot host a safe or viable pregnancy...And if not treated immediately, the tube can rupture and cause internal hemorrhaging," She explains gently, carefully choosing her words to convey the seriousness of the situation.

I feel my heartbeat in my ears now as I process her words.

"So you're saying, this can be life threatening...for me and the..." My throat closes up and I can't finish my sentence.

She must take notice of the panic in my face, her round eyes widening slightly.

"If it goes untreated, yes. But I don't say this to make you panic, you're in good hands and whatever happens, we will take the next steps together." She places a hand on my knee, giving the tissue box so I can dry my uncontrollable tears.

"Based on your last period, you should be about seven weeks along. This ultrasound will confirm that and also ensure the pregnancy is positioned in the uterus. Before we proceed, I'd like to ask you a few questions... do you need a minute?" she asks gently, noticing my unease.

I hiccup and shake my head. "N-no, I'll be okay. Sorry," I mumble, wiping my nose.

"Don't apologize," she says kindly, giving me a moment to collect myself anyway, which I appreciate.

For a moment, I consider calling Nick in, but I decide against it. Even though we're close, this may be a little too personal, even for him and I.

"Have you been experiencing any cramping or discomfort in your back or abdomen?" She asks and typing my answer into the computer as I tell her no.

"Any spotting or bleeding?"

"I had some light bleeding last night, it only lasted maybe an hour... I had thought it was my period, but I knew something was off." I explain to her and she nods.

"That was most likely implantation bleeding, which is normal. It can be light spotting of blood, or some women experience heavy bleeding, similar to a period." She continues to take her notes before looking to me again, "Any tenderness in your breasts?"

"Oh, for sure. My breasts have been very sore the past few days,"

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"Yes, the last couple of days–especially at night, I've been vomiting. I haven't really been sleeping well because of it."

"Yeah, the term 'morning sickness' is misleading... It can happen any time of day, you seem to be experiencing yours during the evening. Any other symptoms you've noticed that you'd like to note?" She asks and I try to think of some things.

"Uhh, I guess I've been more tired than usual, but I chalked that up to being up all night sick...I've also been getting hot flashes recently and I've definitely been more emotional,"

"These are all good to note, thank you very much," She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before typing again.

She swivels herself back towards me, smiling warmly.

"We'll go ahead with the ultrasound now. But to get an accurate picture, we're going to do a transvaginal ultrasound, if that's okay with you."

"Okay, that's fine," I say, shakily.

She pulls the ultrasound cart to toward her before standing to move the stirrups into place so I can place my feet into them. She places a privacy cloth over me and I take a deep breath.

She puts a covering on the sheath of the ultrasound wand and places lubricant on the top of it. She taps a few buttons on the computer, calibrating the machine before turning towards me with a reassuring smile.

"So this will feel cold and you might feel a little pressure but if you feel any discomfort don't be afraid to tell me." She informs before placing the device inside to create the image.

I try not to wince and try to relax as much as possible. I go to look toward the screen but she has it faced towards her, so I opt to reading her facial expressions.

Dr. Sullivan adjusts her glasses by putting them on the tip of her nose and tilting her head back to get a better view.

She's quite animated with her expressions, her mouth opening slightly in concentration as she looks over the screen.

Although I can't see what she's looking at, she seems pleased, which is a relief.

"Okay, so good sign so far, I see your IUD," Dr. Sullivan says, leaning forward and pointing to the screen. "I can clearly see that it's sitting at the top of your cervix. It’s shifted down and away from your uterus. Do you happen to experience heavy cramping during your cycle?" she asks, her fingers tapping some buttons on the monitor.

"Yes, I do," I reply, the worry still gnawing at me.

She nods thoughtfully. "That could explain the displacement. Sometimes, intense cramping can cause the IUD to shift from its original position. It’s not common, but it does happen. It’s good that we’ve caught it now."

"I see the embryonic sac in, from what I can tell, a great spot. You're measuring at about 6 or 7 weeks along. Size of a blueberry." She says and I stop breathing.

I don't even hesitate to say yes as she asks if I would like to see.

My eyes are glued to the screen as I follow where her finger points, focusing on the grainy image. There it is—a tiny black oval with an even tinier dot in the middle. It's so small, I almost think I'm looking at the wrong thing.

“That’s... them?” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I try to comprehend the sight in front of me.

Dr. Sullivan nods, her expression tender. "That's your baby. It's early, but everything looks promising..."

"Really?" I squeak, still in disbelief, my throat tightening with sudden emotion as more tears fall down my face.

Relief— as she nods in confirmation, handing me the tissue box again.

Hope— as she zooms in, showing me the flickering of the heartbeat.

Joy—as I hear the heartbeat, feeling it sync with the thumping of my own.

For the first time since my dream, I feel joy, something beyond the crippling dread that had loomed over me all day. My heart swells and then bursts as I continue to stare at the flickering dot on the screen, blinking away the tears that blur my vision.

I breathe in shakily before a laugh escapes through a sob.

"Nice strong heartbeat, everything looks as it should... this looks like a healthy pregnancy," Dr. Sullivan announces, gently removing the ultrasound wand but keeping a looped video on the screen, allowing me a few more moments to take it all in.

"She's strong too, just like you,"

"So, the next step—for your safety—would be to remove the IUD today," she continues, her tone calm yet serious. "We can also discuss your options moving forward, including your decision on whether or not you would like to continue with the pregnancy. It's important to weigh all the possibilities and make the choice that's right for you."

"I-I'm gonna continue the pregnancy. It was in no way planned, but–"

"You don't need to explain...I had a feeling" She dismisses me gently, giving me a knowing smile, "I guess this calls for a congratulations,"

"Thank you," I say just above my breath, warmth still blooming through my chest.

After Dr. Sullivan removes my IUD, she tells me to dress while she steps out to calculate my due date.

I stare at the printed ultrasound picture, my heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. I’m not worried about the complications or uncertainties ahead right now. All that matters is this life inside me.

I feel much stronger than I did merely hours ago.

My due date was February 7th, the same as my grandmother’s birthday.

–

I had landed in Maine a few hours ago, my mom and I were organizing all of my grandma's belongings. We spent the afternoon together, grabbing lunch before heading over to my grandmother's house.

The house always felt like a time capsule, preserving every memory. The duck wallpaper in the dining room, the scent of pine and clove, the worn couch cushions, her miniature schnauzer figurine collection, and the framed pressed flowers from her children’s weddings—everything was always in its rightful place. It always looked the same.

Memories of me and my siblings spending weekends here whirling behind my eyelids as I inhale the familiar scent.

It evokes a bittersweet feeling.

We keep the mood light, sharing stories with each memory we packed away. I still saw the flicker of sadness in my mom's eyes, even through her laughter as we reminisced.

Sitting on the carpet in the living room, we go through the boxes full of pictures to put together a collage for the funeral. I come across a picture of my mother pregnant with my older brother.

It's a candid photo in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, her hand resting on her swollen belly that pokes out the bottom of her blue shirt, a soft smile on her face. My grandmother is beside her, beaming with pride, tying an apron around her waist.

My mother looked so young, her freckles prominent on her flushed cheeks and her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

I was always told I looked more like my dad, but seeing her like this, so close to my own age now, I can't help but notice the resemblance.

My mom notices my pause and looks over my shoulder. "That was just a few weeks before your brother was born," she says softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Your grandmother knew we were having a boy from the moment we told her,"

Her words send a chill down my spine.

I linger on the photo, feeling a wave of emotion rise up at the mention of my grandmother as the weight of my own news presses heavier on my chest.

"Were you really sick, when you were pregnant?" I ask, lowly.

She hums in thought, "With your brother? Only for maybe the first few weeks. With you though? Forget about it, I was sick everyday for months."

I stay silent for a moment, studying another photo of my mom and dad in the hospital room with my brother the day he was born. My mom is in the hospital bed, looking tired but radiant, while my dad is crouched next to her, gently cradling my brother in his arms.

"He was so bald," I laugh softly, and my mom chuckles beside me.

"His hair was so blonde, it was practically see-through. Your father called him 'egghead' for the first two months of his life," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with a smile.

I look at the photo again, my gaze lingering on my mom's face. Her expression is filled with such warmth and love as she looks at my dad.

"How did you tell dad? You guys were both pretty young," I ask and she stifles a laugh.

"We actually found out together in a gas station bathroom..." She starts off with a slightly shameful smile, "I had been so sick on our camping trip with your aunt and uncle, so I decided on our way back home to take a test. We were shocked to say the least, but we were happy," She shrugs casually.

I think about how I was alone when I found out I was pregnant. Matt wasn't there, and it wasn't his fault, but the last 36 hours of keeping this from him has been torture.

The moment I saw the second line show up with fresh cold sweat still rolling down my neck, I had to bottle up this relentless guilt.

I feel guilt. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is the most serendipitous situation I've ever been in, but I put the blame on me. I have a choice and I'm choosing the route that will completely flip our already hectic lives upside down.

Tethering us together for life.

Even if this decision it feels right, it still carries an enormous weight. It’s not just my life that’s about to change—it's Matt’s too.

I have no doubt Matt will be supportive, but when you're left alone with your thoughts long enough, you can convince yourself of anything.

I've spent every waking minute wondering how he'll react, imagining every possible scenario, from the worst to the best. It's been an endless loop of 'what ifs,' and it’s taken everything in me not to just blurt it out over the phone.

"Were you scared at all? I mean, weren't you like 20?" I press, searching for reassurance in her response.

Her eyes widen before nodding, "Oh, we were scared shitless. Your father almost passed out. We had no idea what we were doing, but hey, we survived. For better or for worse,"

I nod, looking down at my lap and fidgeting with my fingers. My chest feels tight, and the weight of everything becomes almost unbearable.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you... I–"

"I know," She looks at me with a small smile, her green eyes glistening with tears.

My brows furrow together, giving her a confused look.

"You do?" I ask, my voice trembling.

She shrugs, "I know everything, I'm your mom... Plus, you gagged at the smell of chicken today, that was a dead giveaway." She bites back a smirk and I cover my face, laughing through some tears before looking at her again.

"I guess I’m not as good at hiding things as I thought."

"You never were," She says softly as she scoots closer to me, bringing me into her warm embrace.

I sigh deeply into her, squeezing her tight and breathing in her comforting scent.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, still holding onto me.

"Scared shitless..." I joke and we share a laugh before she pulls back to wipe the tears that escaped against my will, "But I'm happy," I admit, scanning my mother's face for any sign of judgement.

There was none.

She wipes her own few tears, looking at me with only love in her eyes.

"My baby's having a baby,"

"I think grandma sent me this baby," I whisper, allowing my emotions to come through.

My mom tucks my hair behind my ear with her gentle, comforting touch and she listens intently as I tell her my dream. We hold onto each other and cry. I then show her the ultrasound pictures and we talk until the sun disappears.

My phone buzzes softly and I check the message to find Matt’s text that he’s landed and on his way. The reality of his imminent arrival causes a mixed-wave of nausea and guilt to wash over me.

My mom looks at me with a reassuring smile.

"I'll leave you two be so you can talk. I'll see you in the morning, my love." She tells me softly, kissing my cheek and hugging me tight.

Matt and I were gonna stay here during our time in Maine. It's best right now that we have our own space, especially since my brother and his girlfriend are staying by my parents house.

As she heads out, I take a deep breath and text Matt to let him know the door is unlocked. I slip into the shower, trying to calm my racing thoughts and steady my nerves. The warm water helps, but my mind keeps racing as I mentally prepare for the conversation ahead.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my reflection in the mirror, trying to see if I look any more put together than before.

I think this is the best we're going to get.

I jump when I here the front door open and shut, then some feet shuffling. My heart skips a beat.

Matt's here.

"It's just me," I hear him call out as well as more shuffling and a paper bag crinkling.

"Hey! I-I'll be right out!" I call back out, my heart picking up again but I take a deep breath.

I quickly get dressed in a tank top and shorts; there's a heat wave here, and I can't figure out how to adjust the thermostat.

I step out of the bathroom to see Matt standing at the kitchen island, unpacking burgers and fries onto the counter. The aroma of it makes my stomach growl and I realize I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

I admire him for a second; he's wearing pink sweatpants, a black hoodie and a backwards fitted hat.

He turns at the sound of my presence and his face softens. I'm trembling when he steps forward to embrace me into a tight hug. He buries his face into my neck before giving me a few kisses there.

"Hi," I breath out, my voice shaky.

I was so nervous.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice is so soft, my heart aches. He pulls away, rubbing his hands up and down my arms while scanning my face.

"You're shaking. What's going on?" He presses.

He knows something is up, he can see it all over my face. I shake my head, brushing it off to have one more minute with him.

I pull him back to me, wrapping my arms around his neck this time and locking him against me. He bends down a bit to accommodate but doesn't question it, just hugging me back. His arms wrapping around my waist and pressing our stomachs together.

My heart is slamming against my ribcage and I know he can feel it, his thumb rubbing my hip soothingly tells me he does.

"How are you doing?" His voice is muffled with his face buried into my neck.

"I'm okay, better now that you're here. I missed you," I mumble, kissing the side of his neck and running my hand down between his shoulder blades.

I breath him in, noting the warmth of him and the solidness of his body against me.

"I missed you... I brought us food. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving," He puts his hands on my hips to pull back from the hug, but I stay put.

He chuckles, giving me one more squeeze.

I pull back just enough to line our faces up and give him a kiss, which he eagerly returns.

"Thank you for being here, it means a lot," I say against his lips and he pulls back slightly to push my hair out of my face.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." He hums into another kiss, then places three quick pecks before giving my butt a light tap, signaling that it’s time to let him go.

I finally release him and head to the food on the counter.

"I passed a Five Guys on the way here, so I hope that's good for you," He grabs a handful of fries before munching on them.

As I reach the counter, the smell of the burgers makes my mouth water, and I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Five Guys is perfect, thank you,” I say, grabbing a fry from the bag and tasting its salty warmth.

Matt grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good, because I was too hungry to think of anything else,” he jokes, unwrapping one of the burgers and handing it to me.

I take it, thanking him quietly, my fingers brushing against his. For a moment, I just look at him.

He’s here, and I should be telling him I’m pregnant with his child, but instead, we’re standing in the kitchen eating burgers. As if I’m trying to cling to this last bit of normalcy before everything changes.

I force myself to take a bite of my burger, moaning at the greasy, savory goodness. Matt smirks at me, taking a hearty bite of his own burger.

“S’good?” he asks through his bite, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I nod, moaning again in response, savoring the taste as it temporarily distracts me from everything else.

Matt takes a sip of his drink before bringing a napkin to my face and wiping the corner of my mouth and chin.

"Wipe ya lip, kid," He teases and I roll my eyes, grabbing the napkin from him.

Matt inhales another large bite of his burger, and we slip into our familiar rhythm.

He tells me about his brief trip to Chicago, and I’m relieved to hear he managed to gather a few funny stories and catch at least one day of the festival. He’s notably enthusiastic while he talks, and I can’t help but smile at his excitement.

He also reassured me that Chris wasn't upset at all, which I already knew from the sweet text he sent me this morning.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, trying to match his enthusiasm.

I then give him the rundown for the next few days while we prepare for the funeral and memorial.

We continue eating, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as we enjoy the burgers and each other’s company.

It feels so easy, so light. It always is with us. But underneath the surface, the words I need to say weigh heavy on my mind, threatening to break the easy rhythm.

Matt watches me closely, his own burger forgotten for the moment as he sees me disappear inside my head again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, his eyes look between mine. “You seem… I don’t know, you're acting weird.” He tries to find the right words.

"Matt..." I go to dismiss him, getting up slowly but he cuts me off, standing up too.

"No, I'm serious. You've been acting weird for days, and I'm no longer 2000 miles away for you to push me away or avoid me." He steps closer to me, trapping me against the counter with his arms on either side of me.

"Is it your about grandma? Did something else happen while I was gone?" He throws out, looking between my eyes.

"I–" I try to speak up but my voice gets caught in my throat and I get lost in the icy storm of his relentless gaze.

"It's not just my grandma," I manage to say, the admission causing him to soften slightly, a glimmer of relief at the small breakthrough.

"Okay, so talk to me, sweetheart. Please, I've been worried sick about you. You have no idea," he pleads, his breath brushing against my skin.

"I didn't know how to tell you..." I try to put together my words but I feel like I'm making it all worse.

I watch as his eyebrows pinch together and he leans down more so he's eye level with me instead towering over me.

"Tell me what, kid. I'm not a mind reader," His voice strains, frustration evident in his face.

When I try to break eye contact with him he pulls my chin to align our eyes again.

"What, d'you crash my car?" he guesses, clearly joking, his eyebrows raising playfully.

I can't help but smile and snort at his attempt to ease the tension.

"No, it’s not that," I say, my voice cracking slightly. "It's much bigger than that," I trail off and he waits expectantly.

"I uh– I went to the doctor yesterday," I pause and study his face, which drops ever so slightly, seeming to be bracing himself.

He stays silent, whether it was out of patience or fear, nothing could have prepared for my next sentence.

"I went to confirm that I was pregnant," I finally blurt out, my voice shaky, and he freezes.

Not one muscle moves in his face or his body.

"You're..." His voice cracks and he clears his dry throat, hitting his chest, "Are you serious?"

"I'm seven weeks, or a month and a half," I stammer, my voice wavering. "I don't really know how to—"

"Seven..." He whispers in disbelief, the shock settling in and I nod. "Y-you were on birth control– you have that AED–"

"IUD, yes, I did. It still happened, that shit is useless if it moves out of place," I explain and he looks down between us.

"A-and everything's okay, you're okay?" He looks up at me again, holding onto my face.

I take hold of his wrists, rubbing my thumb over his skin.

"I'm fine, the baby's fine..." I say softly and his eyes widen in realization as he pales.

"Oh my fucking god," He pulls back, cupping his hands over his mouth. "I need to sit down."

"Okay, okay. Do you want water?" I panic, hoping he doesn't pass out or puke.

He takes a seat at the dining table, shaking his head before taking off his hat and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Oh my god, I thought I was crazy..." He says, his voice cracking with nerves as he presses his palms into his eye sockets.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I had a feeling all fucking week," he says, his voice still shaky, and my brows knit together.

"I knew something was up. You were acting different. You were moodier than usual, you were napping all the time—and you never nap... and your tits are huge," he adds, and I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, that’s beside the point," he continues quickly, "I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you could be... I think I was trying to convince myself you weren't, but then you were so sick before I left," he rambles, staring blankly at the wall.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." I swallow thickly as I watch him process everything.

"You're pregnant," he says finally, looking at me again, this time with tears brimming his eyes. "And you were dealing with all of this by yourself," His voice is low and I shake my head, moving to stand between his legs, cupping his face gently.

"Hey, no. None of that... How could you have known?" I shush him and pull his head towards my chest.

His hands rest behind my thighs, his thumb lightly stroking my right leg. I run my fingers through his hair, comforting him as much as he's comforting me.

"I've been so scared to tell you..." I confess softly and he pulls back slightly, looking up at me with his brows furrowed.

"I know this wasn't part of our plan...at least not for a while. But before I took a test, the night my grandma passed, I had a dream. I was here, in my grandmother's garden... and she told me I was pregnant. Matt, the feeling I had," I pause, struggling to find the right words.

"It was the most intense, pure form of happiness I've ever felt. I can't even describe it to you..." I trail off.

I shake my head, "I know, I sound crazy. But I think this was meant to happen." I whisper, heat creeping up my neck at the admission.

He’s silent for a moment, absorbing my words. Then, a slow smirk carves a crease into the side of his mouth. "You are fucking crazy…" he murmurs, his playful tone breaking the tension as his smile lines deepen.

I huff a breathy laugh, the sound catching in my throat as my emotions take over again. Tears blur my vision, and I can’t hold them back any longer.

"Are you mad?" I squeak, letting my fear slip through the dam I built up.

He's immediately shaking his head, his eyes widen with sincerity, "Mad? Of course not. I mean, I thought we'd maybe get a cat first but..." He says, quirking his lip and I can't help the laugh that escapes through a sob.

I was the definition of an emotional wreck.

He gently squeezes my hips as I tip my head back to collect myself.

"Look at me," he says firmly, and I sniffle and hiccup before forcing myself to look at him. "Am I surprised? Yes. Terrified? Definitely. But, not even close to mad."

He wipes my tears tenderly, "We're going to be okay. Take it easy, alright? Deep breaths," His tone gentle but assertive, dragging me out of the pit of my dark thoughts.

I sigh as his thumbs draw circles on the exposed skin on my hips.

"I'm sorry," I say and he pulls me to sit sideways on his lap this time.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks softly, intertwining our fingers and bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"Our lives are going to change and I feel like it's my fault,"

"C'mere," He pulls me in fully, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I love you, and we're going to get through this... We were gonna do it anyway; we're just getting a headstart, yeah? Everything is going to work out," He tells me softly and I can tell he means every word.

Matt never says anything he doesn't mean.

"Also, don't say stupid shit like this is your fault. Last time I checked, it takes two to tango," He says firmly, lightly slapping my hip.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I lean into him completely, resting my head on his shoulder. His hand rubs gentle circles on my back, and I close my eyes, letting myself soak in the comfort of his presence.

"I missed you so much," I whisper, my voice muffled against his shirt. "I've been so sick, this kid might be trying to kill me," I try to joke, and he breathes a laugh into my shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass, broken only by the distant sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the old house settling.

"We're having a kid," He speaks up, realization laced in his voice and I hum against him. "Maybe we're both fucking crazy,"

I stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him, "D'wanna see it?" I ask, getting up from his lap and he looks to my stomach with a raised brow.

"Kid, you're not showing yet," he says, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed, a playful smirk on his face and I roll my eyes.

"No, the ultrasound. Hold on," I say as I head to the counter to grab the pictures from my bag.

I pull out the strip of photos, and when I turn back, I see Matt standing up and stretching. He takes off his sweatshirt and his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of his stomach. Heat rises to my face but I can't stare too long though because he's walking towards me to look over my shoulder.

"Okay, what am I lookin' at?" He stands behind me, his hands on his hips as his head tilts in concentration.

"You see this black circle here?" I point to the sonogram, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against my neck as he grabs hold of the paper to steady it.

"Yeah, that's it?" He asks, narrowing his eyes and I giggle.

"No, do you see the tinier white blob inside it? That's the baby." I explain and his face scrunches for a second, looking at the picture again.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief, a wide smile breaking across his face. "That tiny thing?" His voice raises a pitch as he looks at me, eyes wide with awe, "Can barely fucking see that," He says playfully before rubbing his eyes.

"Mhm," I can't help but giggle as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in and placing a kiss to my temple. "Just wait til you hear it, the heartbeat was insane. It was so fast," I add and he freezes.

The realization in his face settles in even deeper as I tell him that, his soft smile returning.

"You heard the heartbeat?" He whispers, looking between my eyes and I nod.

"Yeah, yesterday. They emailed me the video of it, I'll show you in a bit if you want," I tell him and he kisses me then like he can't help himself.

"That's fucking nuts... do you feel pregnant?" he asks, his voice curious and his eyes slowly lowering to my stomach peaking out of my tank top.

I shake my head, "Not at all. I just feel like shit... and constantly bloated," I admit, laughing softly.

He lightly chuckles himself, a charmed smile on his face as he reaches to rubs my stomach a couple times.

"We're really gonna have to lock in, kid." He moves around me to pull me into a full hug, pressing our stomachs together.

"Okay, gamer, acting like this is a video game..." I scoff teasingly and he bends down, laughing into my neck.

"Well, what else do you want me to say? We're leveling up..." he continues the joke and I jab his side with my finger.

"Ow," he fake-cries, clutching his side with exaggerated pain before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Stop saying corny shit, you goof," I warn, though his laughter makes it impossible not to smile.

I bury my face in his chest, my ear pressed against his heart as we settle into a comfortable silence.

"Now we really gotta get our own place," He says and I can hear his smirk.

"I don't know…" I shrug slightly, considering. "Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stick around for a bit. It might be nice to have the extra help before we go completely on our own."

He pulls back slightly to look at me, tilting his head with an inquisitive expression. "You really think my brothers will be any help? They don’t know anything about babies."

I snort. “Probably not, but neither do we." I reason and his mouth shrugs in defeat.

"Good point... I guess we can wait it out, we're not in a rush. It'll definitely give us more time to research where would want to be somewhat permanently," He points out.

I hum into him and try not stress about that. The reality is we'd be putting ourselves in a tough spot—both our families are here on the East Coast, but our jobs and lives are rooted in LA.

It's easy to go back and forth when it was just us, but now we're gonna have a kid.

"I already hear your mind racing," his voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he rubs my back. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out..." he says softly, and I sigh deeply.

My stomach turns when I get a whiff of the food still laid out on the table.

"Matt," I say, pulling back slowly, holding my stomach.

"Mm?" he hums, looking at me with concern as I put my hand over my mouth.

"The smell of those burgers is making me sick now," I try not to laugh, and he shakes his head, immediately tossing all the trash into the large paper bag it came in.

"Alright, where's the incinerator?"

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

18. Am I wrong? ✎

“So my manager leaked my information.” It’s not a question anymore.

Scara nods apologetically as if he was at fault, eyes gleaming with genuine sincerity. This is the third time, he’s been vulnerable with you. He guides you up the cobblestone path, leading you closer to the Estate’s courtyard. The sun has already grazed its goodbye, only the moon rests above, gleaming at you and Scara. The darkness along the trees, shrubs, and boulders around the garden is eerie but something about his presence soothes your worries��something about his rare smile, hushed voice, and messy hair.

Perhaps it’s everything about him.

You pause in your tracks, watching over the waves on the beach—hands on the wooden fences standing around the courtyard, “Do you think they’ll believe me?”

“They’ll believe you once you tell your side.”

Doubt lingers, “What if they don’t?”

“Then they’re all fuck heads with no hobbies,” He swerves his head, now facing you with narrow eyes, and brows pulled together, “It’s stupid, how some of them graduated with degrees but have no basic sense of empathy or respect. They’re all entitled, gullible, and hypocritical assholes who use every opportunity to deflect their insecurities on others. It’s a crazy world we live in.”

The scowl on his face is almost laughable—how angry at the world he is on your behalf. You take note of Scara's wrath, experiencing it is not for the weak. Although, you don’t need to worry. His patience for you seems limitless.

“I can’t believe Jean lets you handle your social media accounts. You have no filter.”

He scoffs, “She doesn’t, but I find my way. They have to change the password every other week or else I might be permanently banned on every platform.”

You chuckle at his smug expression, “I want your confidence.”

“You already have it, you just need to use it.”

You avoid his gaze, “You sure do have a lot of faith in me.”

“Because I believe in you.”

For how long? You heard those same words before and they never kept their promises. Your agency, your manager. It was blind trust. Funny how life works.

“You blindly trusted me.”

You didn’t mean to say that. But it can’t be helped. What if one day you disappoint him? Will he leave too, like your manager? Or your fans?

“I knew you wouldn’t do that.”

No he didn’t. What did he know?

“There’s always a possibility—“

“But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” He sighs before running a hand through his hair, “Am I wrong for trusting you?”

You shake your head in guilt, realizing you let your doubts slip. Overthinking kills the mood, “It’s just that—“

“Am I wrong for wanting to be with you?” His voice softened.

You squint your eyes, unsure of what he means. You open your mouth to say something, anything to fill the silence, but nothing comes out.

So he inches forward, his left hand rests on your cheek, the other latches down to your waist, gentle and warm—you lean in to his touch, “Is it wrong to be this close?”

“No but—“

“For once please,” He sounds desperate, “Fuck what they think, focus on me and you. They can all go to hell.”

“So tell me: Is it wrong to need you at every moment?”

Once again you shake your head, this time with no interruptions.

“Is it wrong to be with you? To wake up every morning knowing I’m yours—knowing I can flirt shamelessly without doubting your feelings? Knowing I can write songs about you without hiding my love. Knowing I can feed you my favorite dishes without asking: am I doing too much? Or buy you things that remind me of you because not a single day goes by without your presence in my fucked up head.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. Everything is blurry but your gaze remains on Scara. Only him, because it has always been him.

“Am I wrong for feeling this way?” He whispers softly—so gentle that you want to apologize for trying to push him away.

You wrap your arms around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Can I really?”

“Please.”

He does.

He does like his life depends on it.

Notes:

im on vacation but nothing will stop me from writing 😃

sorry for grammatical errors or spelling mistakes

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

masterlist | previous | next

Taglist (open!): @aruatsu @magicalink @featuredtofu @scarasbaby @veekoko @scaranthropy @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @vernith @thystarsshine @lily-lmao @lovemari @mellowberrie @kunikuzushis-darling @skyoverkill1 @alatusorrow @kukikoooo @kyon-cherri @keiiqq @tzuw1ce @xiaossocksniffer @kaitfae @infinitetrashbag @lvnalxve @lovelypadisarah @ulquiorraswife @sketcheeee @atyour-kitchencounter @pirate-of-the-dark-seas @neiiuna @sn1perz @kazioli @inelenastyle @hearts4shu @wisheslost @Kazeyozuha @kazumiku @eutopiastar @chemiro @bananasquash @mujiwuji @danhenglovebot @cremesluv @boomie-123 @kookiibun @help-whatdoimakemyusername @vavrin @beaniedoodz @misterpoofin @justpeachyteastea @one-and-only-tay @peaceindreams @strxwberryfetish @shutingstar @projectsfantasy @quacking-simp @morgyyyyyyy @cante-lope @k-cris

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse Trope Prompt: (see end notes after reading. No peeking!)

Full list here

Ghost x reader

sfw -bit of angst, profanity, a frisky drunk bird but nothing explicit

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

"Looks like LT's pulled 'imself another winner."

Gaz glances over his shoulder, sniffs, then turns back with a cynical curl to his lip. Lifting his pint glass, he slants a knowing look at his fellow sergeant. "He's lost the bloody plot, if ya ask me. Hooks up with every bird he gets his hands on, now." He shakes his head. "'S bloody mental, mate. What the hell is he thinkin'?"

Soap grunts, mouth twisting in disgust as he focuses on his lieutenant and the cackling drunk bird splayed across his lap. "Canna say. Dinnae ken wha's gotten into 'im. Feckin' mad, lettin' a bonnie, good lass go t'chase after sloppy-drunk tarts like tha' one."

"You lads ready for another round?"

Both men flinch at the sound of your voice and glance up at you with guilty expressions. They know you had to have heard what they were saying. Gaz drops his gaze as he nods and pushes his glass across the bar, while Soap tilts his head to study you. You meet his searching blue eyes while you refill Gaz's pint, knowing what's coming. You breathe out a tired sigh.

"What's the matter, Johnny?"

His brows pinch together in a perturbed frown. "Does it no' bother yeh, 'im flauntin' those mingin' slags right in yer face?"

"Jesus, Soap!" Gaz hisses, elbowing him. "Shut ya bloody gob." He then turns his attention back to you, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry, luv. He's got no filter when he drinks too much."

"Oi! I dinnae need yeh t'make excuses fer meh," Soap fusses, still scowling when he looks back to you. "'M sorry, hen. Dinnae mean t'upset yeh. Jus' think it's no' right, 'im scrapin' yeh off the way 'e did, then comin' in 'ere where yeh work, messin' about with other birds, like 'e does. 'S disrespectful."

Your eyes drift to Ghost, grimacing at the way the woman in his lap is pawing at him, before dropping your eyes to glare at the bar top. "It doesn't matter," you mutter, wiping down the bar with more force than is necessary. "We're over, so he can do what he wants with whoever he wants. I think him breaking things off between us was probably for the best, don't you?"

The two sergeants exchange a look.

Soap huffs and slumps on his bar stool, mumbling into his pint, "Yeh're too good fer 'im, anyway." He knocks the last of his stout back with an angry sneer.

Gaz nods in agreement, his eyes sympathetic when he adds, "Ya can do better, luv. Deserve someone who'll treat ya right."

You try to smile, but it's fake, brittle. "Seriously, it's alright. I'm over it. Really."

You can tell that neither of them believes you.

Your call for last orders goes out a few minutes later, and the few customers left in the pub begin to drift towards the door. Gaz and Soap are settling up their tabs when Ghost steps up behind them, the giggling drunk bird tucked under his arm. His dark eyes slide over you, like you're not even there.

"'M headin' out, lads. I'll see the two'uh ya back at base. Gonna take 'er 'ome," he tells the sergeants, nodding down at the bleary-eyed bird glued to his side.

Gaz give a curt nod, avoiding eye contact. Soap makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Aye. Jus' keep rubbin' 'er nose in it," he mutters, then sniffs, shaking his head. "Steamin' Jaysus."

Ghost tenses, eyes narrowing over his face mask. "Ya gotta problem, sergeant?"

Just as Soap's mouth opens to reply, you clear your throat, breaking the tense moment. "How 'bout a bag of crisps to soak up all that alcohol, Johnny? My treat."

His head swivels around to look at you, the scowl slowly melting off his face when he sees your worried expression. He blows out a breath. "Aye. Thanks, bon." He side-eyes Ghost, then looks away. "See ya later, LT," he mumbles.

The drunk bird makes a whining noise, tugging at Ghost's jacket. "C'mon, luv. Leh's gooo. 'M ready t'get home." She then gives him a drunken, lewd grin, pressing up against him. "Ya can help me get these tights off, yeah?" she whispers to him, waggling her eyebrows.

Ghost grunts a laugh, seemingly amused. "Cheeky muppet. Olright. Let's get outta here."

You busy yourself with wiping down the bar as Ghost leads the tottering woman out the door, then toss your towel down once he's gone. Snagging two bags of crisps for the sergeants, you hand one to each of them.

"Here ya go," you murmur. "Need me to call a taxi for ya?"

"No thanks, luv," Gaz replies softly, sliding off his stool. "I already ordered us an Uber. Let's go, Soap."

Soap stands, his crisps clutched in his hand. He's scowling, shaking his head. "'E's a bloody eejit," he mutters.

You finally wave goodbye to the two sergeants, locking up behind them once you usher them out the door. Blowing out a tired breath, you lean back against it and stare down at your trainers.

"God, I'm glad this night is over," you mumble to yourself, then heave another sigh before heading back to the bar, ready to close up for the night and get out of there.

The drive home is short, just a couple blocks away, but it still gives you too much time to think. This is by far the worst break-up you've ever been through. None of your work mates or friends can seem to go a day without mentioning it. Even worse, Simon's mates won't let it go, either.

You appreciate their support, but seriously wish that Soap and Gaz would stop bringing Simon up, altogether. It's hard enough watching the big lug flirting with birds right under your nose. You don't need Soap pointing it out to you, or Gaz giving you those sad, pitying looks all night.

You try to shake off your negative thoughts as you park and walk to your flat. It's sweet that the lads are trying to be there for you, but you hope that they'll just let it go soon. Maybe you should just tell them you're seeing someone else. It might help put their minds at ease, get them to back off a little bit.

Once inside your flat, you toe off your trainers and turn on the lights, then pad into the kitchen. Putting some leftovers in the microwave, you shuffle off to take a quick shower while it's heating, hoping the hot water will soothe away some of your stress.

As you're toweling off, you hear your front door open and then close. Hurrying to get dressed, you open the bathroom door, the smell of yesterday's shepherd's pie hitting your nose. You hear the clatter of plates and utensils coming from the kitchen as you pace down the short hallway and peek around the corner. You stop when you reach the doorway, leaning your shoulder against the jamb and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Took you awhile to get here. Thought you might've decided to stay the night with that bird, after all."

Simon sets the leftover shepherd's pie he just took out of the microwave on the table, smirking. Tossing down the potholders, he comes to you, his big arms wrapping around your body to pull you close before his head dips to give you a kiss.

"Took forever t'get 'er outta the bloody truck an' into 'er flat. 'Ad t'fight 'er off'uh me the whole way there, too, the handsy git." He rumbles out a low chuckle. "She was right pissed when I left without helpin' 'er outta those tights."

You huff, cutting him a snarky look. "Yeah, I bet." You frown, sliding your hands down his chest. "I wish we didn't have to do this, Si. I don't like seeing other women all over my man, and I hate lying to everyone, especially Johnny and Kyle."

He sighs, lifting a hand to cradle your face. "I know, sweet'art, but it won't be f'much longer. Cap says Nik's almost got all of our documents an' passports in order. When it's time, we'll loop Gaz an' Johnny in. My next mission out, Ghost will be reported KIA, an' once he's laid t'rest, it'll finally be over. No more sneakin' around, no more lyin'. We'll 'ave new identities, a new life." He hugs you tighter. "An' I can finally provide my missus wiff a proper 'ome."

"Si..."

His eyes go lazy and warm as he slides his hand down to cover your belly. "Gotta 'ave a proper 'ome, love. 'S why we're doin' this. Wanna be free an' clear a'fore the li'l nipper gets 'ere. Yeah?"

You gaze up into your husband's eyes, a hopeful smile spreading across your face. You plant a kiss on his smirking lips and nod.

"Yeah."

-

End notes - *shrugs* I didn't want to spoil the ending. 😉

reverse trope: Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

[reegis]

Yo! Do you have any notes/tips for your coloring process? I've always had trouble with that part of drawings looking good lmao and I really like yours! If not for your specific style, do you have any tips with that in general?

Iv gotten a few asks about how I color but iv always avoided answering because

A) I am absolutely awful at explaining things, and

B) I am a very Very lazy artist you should probably Not do the things that I do

BUT i feel bad gatekeeping(?) my horrible technique if it helps anybody ig ill try and explain so

✨✨✨Welcome to Reegis’ Probably Not Reputable (But Very Long Winded) Art Advice✨✨✨✨

line art of a random character for the example, just pic whatever colors you have in mind for your base colors, you can try using palette generators or basing it off of existing palettes/characters/whatever I have absolutely no idea how color theory works (& this is why you shouldnt listen to me) so im solely going off of vibes. but it is Rough so onto step 2 & 3

(edit to add i usually start off with the skin hair & clothes on separate clipping layers and merge them together towards the end.. i think i forgot to say that at all here oops)

I abuse the hellll out of layer blending modes. overlay, saturation & multiply mainly, but also difference, brightness & screen. (just doodle something & try all of em out to get a feel for them honestly ik theres a Lot and they can be intimidating) for this i just wanted a more cohesive warmer tone to start with so i added a peachy overlay & a slight ombré to the hair to add a bit more interest to the character.

then just the most basic of rendering, some blush & highlights just wherever i think theyd go.

Another thing they tell you Not to do, my next step is to block out all my shading in a vaguely purpleish multiply layer!!! i cant be assed to do it any other way im sorry…. once i have the basic shading down, i lock the layer & go in with air brush eraser & also airbrush in other colors wherever I think the purple is maybe too harsh/clashing

still wasnt 100% happy with the colors so messed around with some more layer filter/modes/whatever you call them then colored in my line art! i think this is honestly the saving grace for all of my art shshsdhhf color your lines people. doesnt have to be all (i dont, i like the contrast) but it usually helps to make some at least a little less harsh

then with a little more color tweaking im done! one random sleepy dude, fully colored (by my standards)

and then if a piece needs more dramatic lighting you justttt

im so serious play around with layer settings! these are just basic multiply & add(glow), there as so many others you can abuse the shit out of & nobody will know or care in your finished piece.

was this?? in any way helpful???? I hope so.

[alicentsgf]

ok so fans who hate alicent LOVE to say shit like "book alicent was beefing with a child lol" totally unironically. and it just confuses me. like Bro... all f&b tells us is she Stopped Being Nice to rhaenyra after aegon was born (when viserys showed no sign of naming him heir). because, reportedly, she was originally kind to rhaenyra. apparently kind enough for at least one or two people to note a sudden change in demeanor.

and like im sorry. is it that crazy that when alicent began to understand rhaenyra and her own son were going to be pitted against each other in the future she chose aegon and distanced herself from rhaenyra? she wasnt "beefing with a child" like i feel thats so clearly just a little joke someone made thats been taken at face value and regurgitated. because its not true. or at least f&b gives us no indication of it - we're never told about her acting maliciously toward a young rhaenyra. in fact i dont think we're given much indication they really interacted at all. and anyway, wouldnt it have been worse for her to continue to keep rhaenyra close ? so she could try and manipulate her?? people make book alicent into this great seductress and manipulator and theres basically no textual evidence to support it. if anything i feel like alicent distancing herself shows she very possibly DID genuinely care about rhaenyra once, perhaps enough to worry her attachment might undermine her cause to prioritise aegon in some way. and this is only further supported by rhaenyra's decision to spare alicents life later when the rest of the greens became dragon snacks.

then theres the fact book alicent was the one who asked viserys to betroth aegon to rhaenyra. why would she do that? a woman from a house with such close ties to the faith no less. she asked when aegon was 6 and she must have known by that point viserys was likely never going to name aegon heir - imo she was exhausting options to try and protect her children. no matter what choices aegon made he had every chance of becoming a symbol others would use, forcing rhaenyra to make an example of him to maintain control. marrying them to each other would do a lot to avoid that eventuality. it was both a smart political match and what Targaryen tradition demanded. viserys was convinced alicent was only acting out of ambition which is why he rebuffed her, but we're repeatedly shown viserys is kind of an idiot. especially politically.

theres this Obsession with the idea alicents characterisation was changed so dramatically for the show. 'i wish they'd made her like book alicent' they did...? they made her a victim who is scared and anxious and bitter. theres nothing to suggest that wasnt who book alicent was. everything we know of her is filtered through layers of bias - her story told by men who dont give a shit what she felt or desired. and what? you dont like it because you wanted her to be some one dimensional villian? because doubling down of f&bs oft misogynistic, cardboard cutout representation of her would have been So great. like please, i get that so much of f&b can be interpreted a whole bunch of ways but 'alicent the evil step mother' is the most basic, boring interpretation. it shows no depth of thought at all. theres at least a few clues in there as to who she Actually might have been, if you bother to look.

its just insane to me honestly. you read that book and thought she was pure evil? this woman who doted on her daughter and grandchildren so completely that her grandson's murderers knew to find them in her rooms. this woman who spent her last moments embracing death, pining for her dead children and speaking fondly of the old man she used read to as a girl. its really not that hard to percieve book alicent as a trapped and embittered woman desperately scared for the lives of her children. seriously. where is the critical thought? the empathy?? im so tired.

[vivisols]

one of the least humanoid characters is the least engrossed in the circus (Zooble)

The most humanoid actively plays along (Ragatha)

Pomni doesn’t count she’s new

Also it’s you’re blog, why shouldn’t you ramble? Who’s stopping you? And why are you letting them stop you it’s YOUR blog I reiterate!! Spit your shit Vivi!!

THATS WHAT IM SAYING!!!!!!!!!! zooble is the least humanoid and is also actively the least immersed, with them literally hating the adventures and not wanting to go on the two we've seen so far!!!!!!!!

i MEAN they can literally pull themselves apart and swap out entire body parts, not to mention the fact that they're able to control them when separated.

ANYWAYS YOU'RE RIGHT ANON!!!!!! ITS MY BLOG!!!!!!!!!! SO IM GOING TO GO FERAL AND TALK ABOUT ZOOBLE FOR A LOT OF WORDS!!!!!!!!!! (under this cut of course)

zooble sticks out a ton considering that even kinger and gangle, the other two most non-humanoid members, still have very humanoid aspects. gangle's ribbon body gives off the illusion of a humanoid form and the comedy and tragedy masks she has for a head are based off of a human face (albeit hers are a very simple and detail-less version). kinger is a bit more of a stretch in the humanoid aspect but he has a somewhat humanoid silhouette (somewhat used very loosely here), two humanoid hands, and he wears clothes like the other humanoid characters.

zooble stands out since they look far more inhuman than the rest of the cast does. in the pilot, the parts they chose for that day literally included a crab claw. from what we've seen, they seem to lack a lot of parts that resemble "proper" humanoid appendages, save for the ones used for their right arm and left leg. zooble really stands out from the rest, considering how they're always swapping out their parts and messing with them. they're the only one in the circus who can change their appearance on their own. they're also going to have different parts for each episode, and while its an INCREDIBLY cool detail, it also really makes me think.

zooble seems to be actively avoiding getting immersed in the circus. i mean, personality wise they're a lot more down to earth than the rest of the main characters, which is evident from the fact that they're rather blunt. i mean they straight up tell kinger they thought that he would abstract next LMAO.... they really don't seem like the type to mince their words, considering that they tell pomni about not being able to leave in an incredibly straightforward way and dont particularly try to soften the blow like ragatha does.

they continuously swear despite the filter, even after having presumably been there for years. the only other character we see do that is pomni, though she's only been in the circus for two days and it's probably on impulse. yes its a silly thing to point out but most people tend to start censoring themselves if they know swearing is useless while zooble keeps doing it. they set up kaufmo's funeral as well and although they could have been asked to do so, i believe they did most of it, if not all of it on their own accord. zooble was the last to give their speech about him and clearly seemed upset when doing so.

unlike ragatha and jax, who are more than happy to actively play along with the immersion, zooble doesnt want to immersed at all.

they refuse to participate in adventures, as from caine's line in the pilot about making the adventure "unobtrusive" that they can "choose not to get involved with", it likely wasnt the first time they didnt want to go. though them not coming to the candy canyon kingdom could probably be because they chose to set up kaufmos funeral instead. i mean by the time pomni is at the stage everyone else had already gathered and they were likely just waiting for her and ragatha, so i imagine that the group worked out a whole plan on what to do.

they only went on the first adventure because the gloinks literally pulled them apart and dragged them into it and im like 99% sure that caine made the gloinks do that on purpose so that pomni would properly get introduced to everyone, including zooble. i mean it was clear that she was SUPPOSED go help save them from the gloink queen but got swept up with the whole kaufmo abstracting thing instead. plus gooseworx has mentioned numerous times that zooble hates the adventures.

this could all be because zooble is the most recent arrival to the circus before pomni and therefore they're still holding on to some hope that they can leave, but i believe that it's moreso about them wanting to remain "human" despite everything. they want to cling on to what still counts as their humanity.

to me, zooble doesnt get immersed in the circus because they're actively trying to cling onto their humanity and the reality in the outside world. theyre trying to remain as human as they can by holding on to what they view as uniquely human qualities and tendencies, like funerals. it allows them to remind themselves that they are human and that at one point they were indeed in the real world, despite the situation that they've found themselves in now. zooble doesnt want to get immersed in the circus since it would mean accepting it all, new non-humanoid body and far-too-wild adventures included. but i mean can you really blame them lol

zooble is such an interesting character AND LIKE NOBODY IS TALKING ABOUT THEM. AND EVEN IF SOMEBODY IS ITS USUALLY IN A GROUP CONTEXT BEFORE THEY BRUSH THEM OFF GRAHHHHHHHHHGHHHHHHHHH IM FERALLLLLLLLLL

ANYWAYSSSSS im normal Actually! i cant wait for the zooble episode aka episode 3!!!!!!!! i hope that this far too long ramble made at least some sense and that even if it didnt then you enjoyed it 😁

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Also shorter ones today… mostly related to our previous replies and posts!

Anonymous asked:

After seeing Eel Floyd with Riddle

AND THOSE BITE MARKS 👀👀👀👀

I gotta know -

Did Floyd slip and slide in Riddle?

Or

Also

Did Riddle magically goldfish form and the two had merman sex???

Honestly I wasn’t thinking about Riddle also becoming a merman, but they absolutely have to have merman sex at some point, otherwise it just isn’t fair (to me) lol

And to answer your first question, yes, there might have been some slipping and sliding in Riddle involved~

Anonymous asked:

re: the gaslighting Jade ask. I randomly stumbled on your blog from other ones, and I literally blocked you because shroudcest triggers me. Ultimately, we are responsible for our own safety. As long as it’s properly marked for (which yours clearly is since I blocked you the second I made a tumblr), really all we can do is filter the things that hurt us out.

(im agreeing with you btw. draw what you want i cant stop you. just feel like i in particular make a point worth mentioning from seeing that. you can answer this or not bc obviously i probably wont see it anyway)

Anon! Whether you see this reply or not, thank you very much for writing this despite having us blocked lol

You really are making a good point, and I am glad that you are taking care of yourself and avoiding uncomfortable stuff. I really encourage it. Thank you for understanding and for approaching this issue with respect.

Have a good day.

Anonymous asked:

Gaslighting IS Jade’s love language. Also mushrooms.

Facts, Anon <3 He doesn’t waste his gaslighting and mushrooms on those he doesn’t find entertaining love!

Anonymous asked:

Honestly I can totally see Cater as the kind of guy that now and then buys a random manga just because the cover looks aesthetically pleasing, although if they are BL they are probably more oriented towards shonen-ai than explicit content. But also he wouldn't really read them because he finds the stories and characters a bit ridiculous (is he a bitter anti-romantic? or maybe his sisters used to collect shojo manga and he associates the love story genre with them?). I bet when he had roommates he had fun leaving one of his manga lying around, just to see people's reaction and go "aw, shoot, you saw it? that's sooo embarassing..." or something like that

To be honest, I can see that too. Cater seems like someone who isn’t all that into anime and manga, but is aware of it enough to recognise that the cover is pretty and that there is something gay inside (he might figure out the latter thing later as he looks inside the book lol). His sisters really could be into it though, so I can see him having certain associations.

lol Cater’s roommates “finding” his manga though… Don’t act so coy, Cater 😭

Anonymous asked:

Goddammit! Idia, you cannot escape me for long, one way or another, your chest will be licked! *shakes fist at the sky*

I love how this is turning into a Looney Tunes cartoon…

Anonymous asked:

Idia doesn’t have nipples. He accidentally shaved them off. Tragic 😔 L in the chat for his nipples.

Damn. I’m afraid I have bad news for the previous Anon.

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any HCs for Neige and/or Chenya?

We do have HCs about Neige/Vil and Chenya/Riddle (1,2)!

Anonymous asked:

It is I, 🐩 anon,

So I got a friend into twst and tell me why her favorite character is goddamn Crowley? I'm currently trying to convert her to Divus supremacy. Enough about this. Let me ask my silly little question.

Is there anything about TWST's story plot that you dislike or wished it was worked on more? Or character you wish were more fleshed out? 

Your friend has quite the taste… She is probably a genius of sorts 😔🙏

I feel like I was pretty vocal about it, so I am sorry for talking about it again, but I really didn’t enjoy how Ch2 was handled and Leona in general, to be honest. I wrote a post about my grievances a whole year ago, but my stance didn’t really change. We’ve rewatched the majority of the main story since then, and I thought that maybe with fresh minds and fresh eyes we would enjoy Leona at least to some degree, but unfortunately it didn’t really help. The events don’t really help either…

There might be some other things, but this is the one I think about every time when we talk about the flaws of TWST writing.

Anonymous asked:

what is your notp?

A bunch of Leona ships come to mind, i.e. Leona/Malleus, Leona/Vil, Leona/Idia 🤔 But also a bunch of Trey ships, like Trey/Jade or Rook/Trey…

Anonymous asked:

if you had to go on a date with one of the twst boys who are you picking? i'm picking idia

Idia is a great option, Anon; he would be so uncomfortable and awkward, getting nervous about the smallest inconveniences and whispering “thank god” every time you don’t force him to do something… I would pick him to, but my second option would be Jamil. I think he’s pretty chill.

Katsu would've picked Jade because of course, this is the best pick.

Anonymous asked:

any old fandoms that you feel out of love with?

Can’t think of any, Anon… I feel like we never fall completely out of love with anything, just move on, but there is always an opportunity that we’ll come back at some point. Things like Homestuck are still on our minds constantly lol

There are some titles that we kind of started watching, but then stopped because it wasn’t fully out yet, and since then we kind of lost interest for this thing. And with some of these titles it’s very unlikely that we’ll ever go back, but it’s never 1000% impossible. But then again, it’s not like we loved these titles…

Anonymous asked:

Funfact: The crowley that crowley is named after used to perform sex based magic with men

Damn I hope this is what our Crowley also does. This is his dark secret that is very poorly hidden

Anonymous asked:

I think Riddle would be a really good teacher's pet

Oh he would <3 He is a teacher’s pet.

Ironically, I feel like this makes him a bit boring for Crewel…although it depends…🤔

Anonymous asked:

What is a ship you rarely draw but you love

I don’t draw any of them enough, I love them all! Waaaaah :(

I feel like I don’t draw Sebek/Silver nearly enough for how much we love them, Rook/Epel is also a rare one but we love it, Sebek/Idia could use more love, anything with Jamil too…

Anonymous asked:

Please share with us a full list of the preference of the TWST boys? Top or bottom? I typed up a list for you to use!

Anon, we have a list in our pinned post! But since you’ve typed up a list, I’ll go through the list again :) We also have a post in which we explain our reasoning for each choice, so you can read it too if you’re interested.

Oh! And if you meant some other types of preferences, please let me know. In that case though, we have a list of the boys’ kinks, which isn’t the same thing, but pretty close; so you can read this one too if you want <3

Riddle – bottom

Ace – top

Deuce – bottom

Trey – top

Cater – top

Leona – bottom

Ruggie – top

Jack  - top

Azul – top

Floyd – top

Jade – top

Kalim – top

Jamil – bottom

Vil – bottom

Rook – top

Epel – bottom

Idia – bottom

Ortho  – top

Malleus– bottom

Sebek  – top

Lilia  – top

Silver– bottom

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

hey I just wanted you to know when you post or tag triggering content using different words or numbers or letters, as a kind of censor, people that use those whitelist filters to avoid that kind of stuff can still see it, because they're not whitelisting for every type of different spelling, just the original spelling

like, when you trigger warn and type "4bus3" instead the word "abuse" the filters don't pick it up

OH. UM- I DIDNT KNOW THAT IM SO SORRY- I’ll try to remember that! Thank for telling me.

[whumpberry-cookie]

im sorry if i came off rude i thought whump was sickfics in general. can i have public/transportation sickfic prompts?

Ooooh, I understand! That's okay, anon!

Whump is basically about fictional pain writing, so it might include sickfic tropes, like characters fainting, having a fever or other sicknesses, recovering after injuires and recovering mentally after some trauma. And Caretaker comforting and nursing them. For these I reccomend searching: #comfort whump #whump aftercare #whump aftermath #sick whumpee #sickness whump #enviromental whump #caretaker comfort

But in whump you can also stumble upon the topics that might be triggering and scary for some readers, like kidnapping, interrogation and torture. Because exploring those is very popular in whump stories. So I think that filtering the words like: whumper; torture; pet whump; captivity whump; gore, might be a good idea if you'd prefer to avoid those.

I'm really sorry, it must have been really distressing for you to get the captivity content you didn't expect. I hope you're feeling well, anon!

----------------------------

Car/Public Transport Sickfic

Car:

It's an autumn night and Sickie is driving alone throught the countryside. Coughing from cold and dreaming about the hot meal and bath. But then the car run out of fuel and the gas station is too far away to walk in the dark. Sickie stops the car on the side of the road. Then takes several layers of blankets from the trunk. Curls up in the front sit and tries to fall asleep. Their nose and throat are burning, their head is pulsating with pain. They call their Caretaker waiting for them on the video chat. Sickie falls asleep to the sound of their friend's voice and soothing taps of the rain over the car roof.

A group of very good friends is travelling together. Sickie has a motion sickness so they took a pill for it and only after few minutes felt asleep on their friends shoulder. All the group is quietly giggling on how cute Sickie is when cuddling to friend's arm like to a plushie. The driver turns the volume of the radio down. And they all speak quietly until Sickie wakes up

Sickie's having an axiety attack/trouble with breathing for some reason while sitting on the back of the car. Caretaker (driver) stops the car on the side of the road. It's a sunny summer and all around them are the golden fields of sunflowers and corn. And the landscapes of the mountains. Caretaker helps Sickie get on the roof of the car and joins them after. They both sit, sunbathing and enjoying the warmth and beauty all around them. The aromatic breeze helps Sickie catch a breath. Caretaker helps Sickie "Slowly, breathe in... Now breathe out. Breathe in... Everything's okay"

Public transport:

Sickie and their Caretaker are standing in the crowded bus/metro. Sickie can't reach the poll to hold onto. Caretaker hugs them in their waist/shoulders to prevent them for falling. After several stops Sickie suddenly wakes up and realises they fell asleep in Caretaker's arms, while standing. They feel so secure.

Sickie use to faint so often recently, maybe because of some chronic illness that makes them feel weak. The bus is full so all the sits are taken. Whumpee walk up to someone to ask for a place. But when they sit down, they feel the stares of other passangers piercing Sickie through. Because they are young. Young people are supposed to be standing. Sickie closes their eyes and pretends to sleep, trying not to cry. Then some middle-aged woman sitting next to them gently touches their arm. "Hey, honey. That's okay. Do you need water? Do you want me to call someone for you? You look pale"

Sickie getting on a plane with a serious fever, telling themselves they can handle it on their own. But as soon as the plane land and the fly attendant wakes them up, they are so confused they don't know where they are and why they are in the plane. Is that the other country? They don't even know the language...! Then they almost faint with relief when they see their old friend waiting for them on the airport. The friend walks up to them and places their hand on Sickie's forehead "Dear, you're burning!"

-------------------------

Thank you for the ask and have a good day!

[banisheed]

Describe your character's voice. Do they speak with an accent? Are there certain words they use more often, or certain quirks to the way they talk (such as using filler words or mumbling)? Are they soft-spoken, or typically louder? Do they like the sound of their own voice, or is it something they try to avoid listening to when possible?

this got long im so sorry. also such a fun ask i love reading everyone's responses ..... thnx u...

TL;DR: Siobhan doesn't really have a unique voice and she doesn't want one. Most of the time she tends to talk very formally (like her mother) other times she is more chaotic (like her great-great-grandmother). She alternates her formal and casual language; she will use proper and improper words in the same sentence she doesn't care. She has an Irish accent (dont ask me what sort I can't decide) and also she AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THE SOUND: My weakness….exposed…..I haven't decided what sort of Irish accent Siobhan has….she just uh….has one. Just imagine one. When it boils down to the sound of her voice, I imagine it is similar to the tone and cadence of Anne Hathaway’s voice, just with an accent. She does love the sound of her own voice. Because she’s Siobhan. I think she carries a photo of herself around and kisses it before bed or something.

She does tend to have a more up-beat, chipper, sounding voice. Very, “oh, interesting, tell me more”; the friendliness of her voice is juxtaposed with her love of threatening people. If speaking more formally, there’s a more haughty quality to her voice. EITHER WAY, Siobhan constantly adjusts herself to fit whatever mood she’s in or whatever she thinks the situation calls for

THE STORY OF IT: Siobhan doesn’t have a voice of her own. A voice is an identity, a claim to life, both things Siobhan wasn’t born to have. No one wanted her to be unique, no one wanted her to have a voice that can be used to express sacrilege. She developed a very particular way of speaking; both formal and informal, chaotic and structured. Siobhan is a product of her influence, trained to speak with the voices of the women she grew up around: her mother’s formality, her great-grandmother’s probing questions, her grandmother’s saccharine tones and her great-great-grandmother’s chaotic leanings. The biggest influences on her voice are her mother and her great-great-grandmother, who are opposites in expression; her mother is calculated, structured, and sadistic; her great-great-grandmother is wild, informal, and unfiltered. Siobhan alternates between these modes of communication the most but they’re still imitations. Sometimes she finds one more easy to communicate with than the other; big emotions might call for her mother’s unflappable touch and boredom might require her great-great-grandmother’s chaos. 

What she didn’t learn from her family she picked up from the literature that brought her comfort (stories and poetry). All of her is an imitation of something: her mother, something she read, her great-great-grandmother, her idea of what a banshee is, the manners she’s been taught etc. You could say that this amalgamation of a voice IS a unique voice unto itself, Siobhan would certainly like to think that.

The truth is, when she’s speaking more honestly, the words are clumsy and emotional and she loathes it. Whatever woman exists underneath the brainwashing of her life, she hates her. She doesn’t want her. She’ll do whatever she has to to get rid of her. 

*ADDING THIS IN NOW but also her family is super old. and she herself is 106. she would speak more antiquated. this is a very important factor idk what i forgot it

SINGING: she can sing, and sing well (very disney princess-y; that clear, gentle voice, very soprano…but not like the TV show), but also she’s a banshee so maybe don’t let her sing. She sang a lot at Saol Eile, with the folksy lilting they did

FILTER-WORDS: she doesn’t use them because they would imply weakness. Though, if being honest, she does “um”, stutter and mumble--she’s the least confident trying to “be herself” and she’s unpractised and uncomfortable with it. 

LANGUAGE (idk what to call this part just go with it): Siobhan likes the word “insipid”. She does use some Irish slang on occasion but I’m dumb and forget she’s Irish sometimes so probably not as much as she would. She would prefer to speak in Irish, as it’s her first language, but feels like she can’t because of her exiled status and because a woman who wears a “humans suck” t-shirt and speaks Irish is a little too obvious, even for her. So she defaults to English and peppers some Irish around like a garnishing 

SCREAMING: when she screams she sounds like "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

[bpdpenguin]

hehe ✨️ 🎁 💛

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

someone bookmarked one of my fics with "anything you write is my favorite" which im unable to ever be normal about. i also really like all the comments on royal red & ocean blue chapter 5 bc it's such a fun chapter, someone thanked the inventors of snow, kendo, and thermal underwear, another person quoted 'you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up' which made me feel like i nailed the dynamic. and ofc the dream syncing comment section is full of gems and thank YOU specifically for calling it sexy i didn't know how it would land lol

i savor every comment. genuinely

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

uhhh so listen... idk about rymin but you can have some zukka. this is from the incomplete and very long rrob ch10 "the king of karaoke" a very (purposefully) awkward coming out scene:

Zuko scans the room and quirks a brow. "So this is your Ba Sing Se crowd?" There's a waver in his voice that belies his casual tone. Sokka follows his eye line to see what has him thrown off balance.

Zuko's looking at two girls making out at the foot of the stage, but drops his gaze when he realizes Sokka's followed in his direction.

Sokka's body stills, but he points a sharp glare at Zuko. "Yes," he says, voice dripping with challenge. "Is that an issue, your highness?" He doesn't care that it's factually inaccurate, he just wants Zuko to hear how much of an ass he's being.

Zuko blinks at him, then stumbles through a fervent, tipsy head shake. "No," he says as his cheeks color from more than just the alcohol. "I thought it might be for you, for some reason." He spins his pointer finger as if trying to rewinding time. "I don't know why, though. In retrospect," he adds with a nervous chuckle as he looks anywhere but at Sokka. He had been looking at Sokka the entire night, like he'd been Zuko's refuge in all this chaos, and the absence of his gaze is jarring. "Anyway..."

Zuko is interesting to be around. He's easy to read, most of the time, but where the emotions stem from is still a complicated puzzle Sokka has yet to piece together. He's got a competitive streak, at least where Sokka is concerned, as evidenced by them always trying to one-up each  other at banter or dumb games. And there's this feeling Sokka gets around him that he can’t place, electric yet gentle. It draws him in; it’s something to solve.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes he's just confusing.

"What?" Sokka asks. He wonders if they can ever have a clear conversation when liquor is involved.

“Sokka,” Zuko starts. Stops. He ruffles his hair, hides his head in his arms folded on the table, emerges again. He doesn’t quite meet Sokka’s eye. “I’m gay.”

“Oh,” Sokka says. His too-loud heartbeat is drowning out any coherent thoughts.

Zuko still isn’t looking at him.

“That’s awesome,” Sokka says. “I mean, that’s cool.” He wants to dunk his burning face in cold water. “Good for you.”

As he says it, Zuko is stumbling over his own words. “So I wasn’t, you know — I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I get that now,” Sokka says. He recovers from his shock and remembers himself. “Thanks for telling me. I mean, for trusting me enough to tell me that. Yeah.” Okay, so not completely recovered, but still.

Zuko releases a long-held breath. When at last he returns Sokka’s gaze, the harsh red laser lights of the club are filtered to a soft pink in his amber irises. There’s a moment of acknowledgment before he blinks back down to where his fingers are tearing apart a napkin and he’s guarded again.

“I almost told you before,” he says. “At the festival.”

Sokka thinks back to that moment. He winces, remembering how much he had assumed — not only about Zuko, but about Mai, too. Sure, he’s accepting in theory. But in practice? Maybe he has a lot more to work out than he thinks.

“Shit,” Sokka says. “I’m so dumb.” This time he’s the one avoiding eye contact. “You were trying to tell me and I didn’t get it—”

“I backed out.”

“And I was just going on about girls. Not even thinking—”

“I thought you would hate me again.”

Sokka’s mouth and heart sputter to a stop.

“Not that I had any reason to think you’d have a problem with it,” Zuko says, waving it off and fumbling through his words before Sokka can respond. “Obviously you wouldn’t.” It doesn’t sound as confident as Zuko likely thinks he does. “It’s just… We had finally started talking. I thought it might be different enough to throw things off balance again.”

Zuko’s attention is devoted entirely to the bits of napkin in his grip. 

Sokka pushes past the dull pulse in his ears. “Hey. Zuko.”

Zuko glances back up.

Sokka’s reach is slow as he gauges Zuko’s reaction. With no sign of resistance, he places his hands on Zuko’s shoulders. Zuko relaxes at the touch, so Sokka treads further and pulls him into an uncertain hug. Almost immediately, nervousness shifts into warmth, until he's more comfortable in Zuko's arms than he'd been outside them. Sokka isn’t sure how long it lasts. He isn’t sure he cares.

“I like learning more about you,” he says as they draw apart.

Zuko’s light smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

i used to treat writing so preciously and i was pretentious about it, if i wasn't shakespeare then what was the point. i still have perfectionism issues, but at least i get stuck on WIPs i have actual words down on instead of consuming every writing tip video on youtube and fantasizing. i used to not write fanfic bc i wanted the first thing i ever wrote to be "the novel of my heart" or whatever the fuck. and if i DID write a fic i wanted it to be a big multichap cornerstone of the fandom, which is the mindset i started rrob in LMAO. i would wonder why i was so much better at drawing than writing when writing was what i really CARED about. im not afraid to doodle only for myself, im not afraid to abandon drawings, im not afraid to put pencil on paper and START. every time i apply that lesson to writing it helps, but it's still hard for me to keep in practice.

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

[littlecarnet]

I love how Pokemon Scarlet/Violet has a rotom camera feature, with a selfie option and filters, even your leading pokemon gets to pose with you! There's so many scenic places in the game just begging to be photographed, like I'm not kidding, the towns have so much attention to detail in them, they look like livable places and it makes you want to explore every little corner of them (which can award you with items). The npcs are...meh, very one dimensional but that's fine, the series has always been more about exploration than dialog.

There's three paths to take in-game but it never pushes you down any of them. You're kinda just left to do whatever, which I love. I've been really taking my time just making picnics with my pokemon complete with cooking, snapping photos, and taking classes at the academy. The picnic thing is super unnecessary but cute, and if I had to add any other unnecessary things to the game it would be a journaling option so I could put my photos in it, keep a scrapbook of my adventure, and make some observational notes about certain places or pokemon. Maybe I can do that on my tablet since my Switch can send photos to it.

One neat thing I found out is that the Switch can send photos to an Instax printer, and yes...I did print out real Polaroids of the photos you see here. They're adorable and the one with my character and Haunter is in my wallet now. Fun fact, Haunter is my favorite pokemon and has been part of my winning teams since Gen 1. They're all named after the original Circe from my copy of Red.

If I had to add anything else I'd love to see:

- The ability to grow berries and herbs in the school campus garden

- Have a rematch with the titans and Team Star bosses

- To be able to decorate your dorm room

- To fish, just like in previous gens

I haven't played through the whole game, I'm barely through the fourth gym - again, just taking my time- so I dont know what sort of other features I'm missing yet. I don't want any spoilers though. I made a huge mistake spoiling PLA for myself and I wish I hadn't, but not with this game. I'm avoiding every spoiler so I can experience it as intended.

Let's see, other things I like so far...

- I caught a Ditto and named it Cici. Im not sorry.

- I'm glad the evil team has real motivations for being the way they are. They're not trying to rule the world, they're just sick of the status quo. I don't support their method but I do support their message. I think they could've handled it differently though. Also their rides are incredible. Pokemon that are super modified semi-trucks! Man I need that in my life! I want a super semi-truck pokemon!

- Nemona kinda gives me bad vibes so far. Maybe my view will change of her as I get further in but for now she reminds me too much of an ex-friend that was super clingy, pushy, and liked invalidating my choices under the guise ' I know what's best for you'. That's why I chose to do the opposite of what she was suggesting. It was my way of saying ' Girl, don't tell me what to do with my life'. This is MY treasure hunt, not yours.

- So far in my play through, I think Arven is a green witch or at least the equivalent of one within that universe. Dude deals with ancient books, mysterious crystals, and magical herbs. He's into alternate medicine and I can totally support that. Also he doesn't boss me around and actually tells me to be careful. Oh and he makes me sandwiches like a sweetheart. I just hope he's not another Volo though, because I swear to Arceus I will drop-kick him into a volcano.

- I'm pretty sure Ms Raifort is a descendant of Professor Laventon and by extension is distantly related to Chairman Rose and Peony( at least in my theory). Laventon's photo is on her wall. I love references like this, builds up on the lore.

- And don't know what people are talking about with glitches, I've played this game since Jan 2nd, and I've yet to run into any glitching, maybe a bit of lag while running around, but yeah, maybe Im lucky? The only noticeable glitch I ran into was when I threw a pokeball at a Tauros above me to start a battle, this warped me from a bottom level of a cliff to the top. Effectively allowing me to skip to an area in the game I wasn't supposed to go to yet.

Sadly this meant a lot of pokemon in that area were higher level than mine and I nearly got wiped out before heading to a pokecenter. But! This did mean I got to use the pokecenter as a save spot that I could come back to when I leveled up. A funny yet helpful glitch.

[renskirenegade]

Daniels Den Phone notes

Daniels Den Notes Basic Training You cant level up if you dont lock in Which source are you using for your life? Daniels Den is different. We are not trying to be like everyone else, we are the exception. We are called to model a different way of being in the world. You can win at work You can be blessed and have balance You can have elevation without destruction …in the process ppl self destruct Unlock the daniel in me some people cannot reach calling because they are stuck in convienence people who are imprisoned by excuses wont be daniels gifts can get you into the room, character kick you out can you be trusted with influence? can you be trusted with a team?

Traits of Daniel adaptability accountability ethics and chacter excellence - do what he did exceptionally. what do you do well?

Daniels are calendar masters. A decision and discipline Willingness to endure short term pain for long term gain No spiritual gift its a skill to be disciplined WHY gets you through the wall. a reason to change! You cannot do the what if you dont have the why Are days are numbered Days are time, time is currency Who are you paying attention to What are you giving your life to? inest time you have in order to achieve the life you want Many people do live with value alignment

when people say you cant fit it in…they cant. you can. dont make excuses.

Whats your ideal week. you dont have to write down everything. Make the most important things on that list

Whar are your time thieves? Boundaries Social Media Lack of order in excellence over extension/over committment greed games

4Q Development Reach your potential to be a Daniel Spiritual Emotion Relational Leadership

Information is like Medicine Recieve: Spirtual Intelligence > Retain: Information Management System > Retrieve: System/Space to Quickly Locate > Refresh: Old information to refresh

emotional what are the dominant emotions i want to live with how we are emotinally is how we are

what emotin i avoid what emotion i want go from negative to neutral then to positive Ex: I'm negatie, adjust to neutral, to acceptance and positive thinking

i dont want anger i want optimism whats my strategy when im overwhelemed?

spirtual goal strat recalibrate be resourceful have a plan for excuses

relationship goals specific relationship or not, up to you

do you want a better relational IQ ex: be more empathetic and kind PDs goal: discernment

financial goal way too board cash goal allow yourself grace if it matters make it memorable why would god give me gifts where others benefit and i dont?

04.14.2024 Qualifiers of Dream Team Awareness Grace/Empathy Exp Integrity Spiritual Wisdom LOyalty Value Added Consistency Voice where they are rich where im poor

And do I need these characteristics?

Filter Feed Fight - Grab that thought and make it obedient to Christ

how to minimuze upset redirect thoughts be a ceo

Goal - Your Vision accomplished in increments!!!!

LIttle by little Last year was the last year

It's my time and it's my turn Mindset shift, focus and committed

Want = gas You need more then gap Gas is motivation Need a map Many people sell gas Tank full of gas but not arriving need more than motivation we need idrection we need a map LAW OF CHANGE

You dont change things by trying to change things you change things by changing the things that change things

you dont change relationships by changing relationships you change behavior or how you approach it

Confidence: Belief The promise of reclaiming your year is possible

You have to believe in yourself, trust yourself Do things to make yourself get there? Affirmations, what am i telling myself? Ex: Takes courage to have confidence. No person, no man, no job, no title. Only go dcan provide my confidence. IT is from within me.

Feed only that which creates confidence. Change your mental diet.

You are the most important person to you. Feed yourself that which builds you is important.

You need confidence to start and end. To continue to walk on the water. The womb to risk taking.

Filter out everything that creates doubt

Filter friends, filter sermons. Not elimination, but limitations. People will talk you out of things, refocus or stop believing in yourself.

Someone has feed and filter; that lack confidence. look for godly principles that feed you if you wanna do what people arent doing, then you ahve to do what they arent doing

Clarity picture of desired outcome If you aim at nothing, you hit it everytime Set boundaries set on self and others We dont know what boundaries to set if are not clear on what we need

you need an FSP finish strong plan if i dont tell where my days go, i'll wonder where they went Plan looks diff depending who you are

If you set a goal: FSP Look at what your originial goals is Look at goals and ask what is feasiable in 100 days Is it a faith goal? We dotn lower standard but adjust the goal Just cuz I cant have it all does not mean I wont accept nothing

Have a category spirtually,

Emotional Goals: Make an emotional goal Scale 1-10 where you are emotionally What's the dominant emotion you want for the rest of your days? feelings dictate what we do

corp = work kindred = fam casual = friends kingdom = faith

Mission statement for the relationship

You're going to feel poor when you dont have spirt, emotional, relationship, financial

Character = Spiritual Intelligence Which traits do we need to acquire to get there? Small tweaks change to giant leaps you need emotional health how do i get myself to do something i normally dont do revisit this once a week

Communication = one thing that changes everything Genesis 6 building a huge wall You build it better, with words timing, tone, pace, volume

Coaching: to help other people Do you have the ability to coach yourself Running into obstacles, can you coach sell on small things Structuted/strategtic dialogue that uses provoing questiont to create persondiscovery to take where they are where they need to be change how you feel by what your thinking if i dont like my results, change actions, change actions without change feelings, change what im thinking abouit

Community: the people around you sometimes you cant find this and you need a group of ppl who are trying to finish like you hard to do in isolation

some treasure is in another vessel success loves speed

do nothing, do it alone, get help

Elevate notes 2023

the way you handle yourself if how you were handled

what do people think vs what is god going to think

ppl that need us need transparency

spent so much time letting ppl giving me value and define me and my worth ik how good i am

theme identify where did imposter syndrome start the first time i didnt feel good enugh

what motivates us what are our strengths, what are you complimented on leadership speaking training awareness independent responsible assess what i love give ex of my strengths make myselkf happy at work

alignment and research advoce for yourself if somethign is missing ask or it may not be for you!

emotional elevation plan im a professional at defusing at home

exercise - walk more impatient boundaries

brain is able to flex and create new ones is it less intense than before its not at my cost

aniety and fear give myself permission to say its alot imposter enforcing cognition beliefs

7pm - start slow and practice prepatation of best case scenario

nervous system shuts down practice best case scenarios remember is your why self soothe before you did it

if its not at my cost dont do it does it effect my self care

information on pros and cons listen to that say no to myself, let me think about it

Snipers trigger others

Hyperindependence does not allow us to connect

Luke 10:38

Set boundaires on self

unhelpful messages that carried us through the year. the intention vs the impact.

[miss-sapphicana]

Blog Content PSA

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I wanna clarify some stuff about this blog !! Apart from what I say on my "about" page, I wanna specify some stuff of what I will post / reblog to avoid future inconveniences :)

Regarding following blogs back: This is not my main blog, this is a sideblog - therefore I cannot follow blogs. Even though I really enjoy being here on gaylor-tumblr, my main focus here is my main, and since I only have one dash, I really don't want people who post hate content of what I like. although I don't mind seeing different opinions, I do mind opening my safe place and seeing hate about what I enjoy! my main is a One Direction blog, mainly about Louis and Harry, therefore if you dislike them and I can see it on your blog easily, I won't follow back, and if I follow back and i see you post hate towards them and/or fans, im unfollowing. I won't block you (unless it's bigotry) because maybe I do wanna see your posts and interact with your content, but I just don't wanna see that obligatory when I open this website. Believe me when I say it's not personal and I won’t keep resentment towards you, we are people of course we are gonna differ in stuff; I don't care you dislike them at all, you have your right to! I just don't wanna open my only fandom space and see people hating them :)

I will reblog stuff from a lot of perspectives of the same topic and that doesn't mean that is my point of view. I created this blog mainly as an archive to myself and anyone who wants to use my tag system, I will reblog gaylor history, gaylor thoughts, etc - stuff I won't agree with (in general). My idea is to have all data possible archived so anyone can make their own conclusions alone. We are not supposed to follow blindly the same four blogs over the years who fight for the same four muses, trying to fit everything into their narratives at all cost without considering a more complex situation. You don't like me reblogging a specific topic? filter tags, don't follow, block me, do whatever makes you happy but pressing the ask button to claim I think a certain way (when they are other people's posts, not mine) because you saw a reblog that contradicts another, is gonna get you blocked.

I will probably never agree 100% with a post made by another blog, the only time is okay to assume I agree 100% is when the post is mine or when I textually say "I totally agree with [insert post]". Otherwise, don't assume I agree with a blogger just for a reblog, a lot of times I just reblog posts because they contain sources, dates, context, etc. That could be useful to understand better the situation or ever another one.

I really don't care about your opinion on muses, i don't give a fuck of who do you think reputation is about (for example). What do I care about is what you do to others based on that. I would say I don't generally agree with almost everyone here and that could never make me disrespect or wish the worst on you. We are allow to be different, we are allow to share spaces thinking differently, that's what life is about. If I don't ask for your opinions on a muse, don't give them specifically to me, post them in your own blog! and with this I don't mean you cannot talk to me about muses, you can always send a question about that - being respectful and with the intentions of wanting to admire and enjoy queer art - if you come to me and start randomly telling me why you think a song is for a muse in a "I'm right you are wrong" way, you're also getting blocked.

If I dislike a gaylor blog and I say that publicly - it could be for only two things: 1) bigotry (they're either racist, misogynistic, lgbtphobic, xenophobic, etc) and disrespectful (either with other bloggers, or the way they talk about celebrities or art they don't enjoy, etc. Mean in general.) or 2) because their statements related to gaylor are either fake (literally spreading misinformation - not only about dates, places or people but how PR and bearding works in general) or because they not only refuse to look into other perspectives, but they also get aggressive when someone doesn't blindly believe in them. I'm currently studying PR at university and I won't tolerate any lies about how industry actually works, I also won't tolerate just having the exact same behaviour that religious or conspiracy people who just blindly believe what they read that fits what they wanna believe. Believe what you wanna believe, seriously, but if you come here and say you receive "anons" or "secret information" about taylor and/or her team in a nostradamus predictions way, not only you are objectively reaching, but I also have cero patience for you being mean to people who are clearly sane and don't agree with that. Being that said, if you don't fit any of these two options, I like you or I don't care at all about what you blog about, I really like following a lot of people who think differently, I believe it helps me a lot to not only understand better the panorama but to don't let myself be biased by only one single muse narrative :)

I know I should not clarify this because its obvious but I wanna do it to leave no room for doubts! but this is for all gaylors, this is for everyone no matter what your "favourite" muse or the one you think is the most "realistic" one. I don't care if you are a kaylor, a swiftgron, a tily, etc - if you behave like I explained above, you'll be blocked no matter what even if I agree with you in who is the "main muse" of an era.

Lastly, regarding swifties or non-gaylors: everyone is welcome to check my blog and ask questions, but as I said on my "about" page: I'm not here to prove to you that Taylor Swift is queer. That is not my purpose. If you wanna follow / interact because you like only part of what of I reblog / post or you wanna learn more, that's fine for me! As long as you understand you also will be blocked if you try to come to convince me taylor is straight.

Taylor haters are blocked instantly, you don't like Taylor Swift? don't engage with Taylor Swift blogs in your spare time!!!

I'm always willing to make new friends and to chat about our interests even though we may differ! As long as you're decent, I genuinely believe we can get along ♡ Don't be shy to ask questions! or dm-ing me if we are moots ;)

[jiraiconfessional]

i love being in the jirai community but at the same time im worried about hurting/triggering others and influencing people to be like me...

—🐀🪽

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this one is complicated... yap warning! >☆⌒(> _ <)

i think, personally, that other people's lives are not on your shoulders. as long as you tag appropriately, i don't think there's a problem.

i myself use the content filters on here so that i avoid my triggers. i don't like to look at pictures of wounds because it triggers me, so i block people who don't tag it and block the tags if they do tag it.

at the end of the day, if someone is going to hurt themselves, telling them safe protocol for taking care of their wound is good, but telling them to do it isn't. but it's like drugs, if they do it, they do it, and the only thing you can do is tell them how to be safe if that's what they choose.

and i think, like self damage, if someone is feeling badly, they are feeling badly. part of doing poorly is a lack of managing yourself. sometimes you can't, and that's okay... but to blame everyone else for you doing poorly when you yourself are not proactive about it isn't any good. i know this from my own experiences. i used to be in a pro-community, but i already had [ISSUE] and it wasn't anyone elses fault. i managed to pull myself out because i realized it was hurting me deeply, but i never blamed the other individuals because they were just as sick or sicker, so sick that they couldn't see how they were hurting themselves. ~(>_<~)

i did get better at managing how to identify toxicity verses kvetching (im jewish haha... for goyim:) kvetching is a "mutual bitching session". and there's a difference between someone dragging you down, and a group of people having a kvetch about shared dissatisfactions. (o_ _)ﾉ彡☆

because i stopped feeling alone, my suicidality decreased. i reminded myself i wasn't suffering in silence and i could reach out to likeminded people, and it helped.

tldr; i think you're allowed a space to be yourself. ( ´ ω ` ) if other people feel poorly, they might relate (a shared pain is half the burden.) and if other people come into that space and blame it for their problems... they already had those problems to begin with, as we all are struggling in this life. you must figure out what makes you feel worse, whether or not you need to learn how to deal with how you feel or avoid it as best as you can, and act accordingly. you're responsible for trying your best, whether that's from inside the jirai community or outside managing what things you're sensitive to seeing. and above all else, you're entitled to be yourself, you're entitled to your feelings, and how you act is a choice you must make, figure out how to make, figure out what choices do or don't work, and take responsibility for. (´･ᴗ･ ` )

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