#keep fit classes for adults online

[okcoolthanks]

Haha yay I love being autistic and not understanding how to communicate with people and form any sort of relationship on purpose

[justatypicalwizard]

Virgin Bakugo x reader, suggestive

Imagine Katsuki who’s a total and complete virgin. His brash and aggressive exterior fooled others into deeming him a playboy. Handsome, successful and proud, what else would he need to perfectly abide the stereotype. Except, ever since he started UA, ever since he dreamed about becoming a pro-hero, ever since he laid his eyes on All Might, Bakugo had nothing else in mind except hard work. He bent his neck over homework, he cracked his knuckles before training and he broke his bones during missions, everything for the sake of greatness. Love didn’t exactly fit into his schedule.

It started when he was a kid. Other boys kept weird magazines under their beds and looked at girls wishing they got a lock of silky hair to keep. Katsuki didn’t understand. Girls in his class at school were weird and annoying. They always had to move in a group, went together into toilet stalls and whispered as if they couldn’t talk like normal people - loud and straightforward. What did his friends see in them?

Later, in middle school Katsuki finally discovered a few throughgoing differences between him and a set of new girls in class. His friends’ magazines turned into online videos that Katsuki despised. They felt unnatural and shameful. So he cut the topic short, deeming the girls in class boring and stupid. And honestly, that’s how he felt about them.

When a particular shortie with deep black hair, cut a few inches above her chin, stopped him in the middle of the track field, Katsuki sighed. What now? The girl confessed her crush, digging a small hole in the dirt with the heel of her shoe, and Katsuki felt almost nothing, maybe slightly uncomfortable with a tiny pinch of pity. She teared up but mumbled a sorry, to which he responded with a grunt and a ‘better not talk to me again, this is awkward’. Until the end of middle-school, no other girl built up the guts to confess to him.

UA made Katsuki feel like home. He was a cog, awfully clattering one, nonetheless a well working. When he moved into the dorms he was closer to girls than ever before, and once again it changed nothing. The blonde felt satisfied with himself, able to satisfy himself, with no need for another person turning his perfectly working plan upside down. He listened to his friends stories about kisses and, later, first times without much regret. When he gets to the top women will throw themselves to his feet, like Hawks or Endeavour. No need to stress about it, it’s not like he likes back any of the girls that lay eyes on him when he flexes and bends during workout.

This was the biggest lie Katsuki made himself believe. Time flew by and suddenly his friends were no longer making fun of each others’ stories about awkward first kisses or boob touching. They were no longer excited about relationships, they no longer made a big fuss out of every glance that lasted a second too long. It became events of the every day for them, and Katsuki felt left out.

When asked he turned a blind eye, he built a thick wall around his love life that no one was allowed to cross. Friends and family accepted the distance, deeming it yet another Katsuki thing. Given how handsome and successful he is, the man had to have a girlfriend or two, or three. They were simply kept a secret, nothing new for a pro-hero.

And so it went. Fear crept up Katsuki’s bones every time he imagined a botched relationship, an awkward one-night-stand, an adult-virgin first kiss. Girls were no longer girls, they were women, all grown up and knowing what they want. All expecting experience or mastery even from someone like him. All making him freeze, his body betraying, retreating in a defeated manner masked as brashness. ‘Dream on’ he used to say when an intern or a model from a small company approached during hero-themed parties.

Showing someone how utterly inexperienced Katsuki was, letting someone open up this new and fragile part of himself started to merge with the feeling of defeat. Quickly, the blonde decided that if anyone ever learned about his weakness, it would be the end of him. He saw, with the eye of his imagination, the headlines honking about Virgin Dynamite! Is it possible for the top handsome ranking pro-hero to be a virgin? Who stole Dynamite’s first kiss? And so on.

Out of options, Katsuki decided to let it go, unsure what to do, fed up with trying to find a solution.

That was until he found himself, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, on this painfully tiny couch, with you. There was a party, a fancy tuxedo one. There were people and drinks and perfectly glossed lips. There was music and vodka on rocks. And then suddenly there was none, only you and him, in a room forgotten by the ever-moving crowd.

Did the party end? Were there limousines lined up in front of the gold-dripping hotel, waiting patiently for their pro-heroes? Was there a villain attack and everyone went to the rescue? Was there a natural disaster happening? Where did these damn people go when Katsuki needed them? Where could he vanish when you were so close and so warm?

The blonde wanted to get up and walk away, spitting some bullshit in your face but his body froze. There it was, his secrets in danger. Despite not having much romantic experience himself, Katsuki was not stupid, he knew when lust filled his veins, he knew when someone wanted him. Right now you both felt the same way and while in fear of losing his pride, Katsuki couldn’t move away.

He couldn’t budge when you laid your palm on his thigh, he kept still as stone when you turned to face him fully, he stopped breathing when you moved close enough to let him feel your breath on his cheek. All the while he dug his fingernails into your knee.

Was it the uneven breathing that gave him away? Was it his hand that felt so lost on your skin? Or maybe it were his eyes that fought a battle between looking away and straight into your bust. The blonde wasn’t sure but when you glanced at him, with this frisky look in your eyes, he knew he was doomed. Katsuki nearly started waiting for a laugh when you tugged at his tie letting him fall over and cage you on the couch that was still painfully tiny.

“First time?” You breathed into the skin of his neck, climbing higher, pawing at his back and chest for support. Before he could answer your lips were on his in a hasteful and eager kiss. It was messy and all over your lips and cheeks and necks, all over the place. It was over in a blink of an eye.

Is this how a first kiss feels like? His friends told him stories about long, sweet and innocent pecks. This was nothing like the blackening memories at the back of his head. This felt like him, felt like his first kiss. Angry, bursting and forceful. Katsuki loved it.

“So it is.” Your voice, so close to his ear, tore him out of his head. You were still awaiting a response, one that would make him crumble, one that would destroy this perfectly unbalanced moment of lustful chaos.

Later Katsuki will wonder whether experience meant knowing what to say and do in the right moment, because you certainly knew how to do just that.

Gripping the collar of his shirt you tore the highest button, letting it fall down between your breasts for the blonde to find later. It were hands and knees everywhere for Katsuki, hotness and short breaths.

“You know what.” You asked, making him hum deeply into your skin. “If this is your first time then I cannot wait to see what you’ve got. After all an animal is the most aggressive, the most carnal when it’s starving.”

The little giggle that followed your smart remark made Katsuki grin widely. Fuck cliche stories about awkward frist times, fuck shy kissess and fuck confessions spoken with trembling lips. Katsuki will have to live with the fact that someone, that you, took away his virginity and you knew damn well about it. He will have to get over the loss of his mysteriousness (if you two are to date officially). Katsuki will gladly accept that. How could he not when once again he came out of a battle victoriously.Maybe it was his first time but it was his first time, his rules, his game and his girl.

[galina]

How to create a home for oneself in a new city when you're alone?

get some music on – you're never truly alone when you have a great playlist

even though you might not feel like it, get dressed every day and put your best kit on

join nextdoor or your neighbourhood's local online bulletin, they're full of awful complaints and sales pitches but they make you feel more in the loop

go to your local baker/cafe/grocer and buy something, strike up a conversation if you can, tell them you're new in town, keep coming back and always smile

join your local library, they're amazing

move about – join a local running club if that's your thing, or go to a fitness swim class at the local pool, or sign up to a yoga studio, take a spin class, that sort of thing

don't like sport? try an adult class with the local council, like pottery, or knitting, or painting

your local café, pub, gallery or bookshop probably has a life drawing class, book club, poetry night, chess club, go and have fun

ask a colleague for recommendations of what's good in town, chances are you'll end up grabbing a drink together

go to the club if you're into it, and just get lost in the music, the best safe non judgemental place to get sweaty and press your body to other beautiful bodies

buy yourself flowers from the supermarket

cook for yourself like you would a friend, make extravagant meals because you're worth the time!

take buses and trains to explore the area, take a book with you – have a picnic, walk around, look in shops, go to a museum, just be curious

and: you're going to be ok, promise. I hope you're settling in well friend ❤️

[yoonia]

🖋️ one your stories that sticks to me the most was the (im)perfect ending. I really wish to see how you visualize their lives after. will Joon ever find out about the baby? will they reunite again? what happens when they do🤭? will Joon finally get his head out of his a** and end his marriage and be true to his feelings 🧐 or will OC has her own happy ending with someone else🤔?

💌 I think other people have said this before, but you are an admirable person that I've ever met online. You've worked hard on your stories and have always given us a lot. even now, you choose to spread positivity and share gifts for others to celebrate your birthday and I think that's the sweetest thing anyone could ever do. happy belated birthday, Dia. You deserve so much happiness and a lot more. I hope your coffee is always hot and your pillow always warm. wishing you and all your precious kitties an abundance of health and joy 💝💝

omg I've been getting the same questions sent to me for this couple, so I guess this might be a good chance to provide some answers for those who have been waiting for it lol

I know that the last letter mentioned in the fic didn't specify how much OC shared about her baby, so I guess this is where we get to see what other things she sent with the letter for Namjoon. I hope you enjoy the snippet and the visualisation below!!

— title: Our Imperfections| pairings: Namjoon x female reader| genre: second chances!au, infidelity!au, post divorce/break-up!au, angst | word count: 1,410 words — summary | Namjoon is on a mission to fix the mess he created. — ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; talk about divorce and custody, post break-up, mentions of infidelity

— original: The (Im)perfect Ending by @yoonia — fic drop date: Oct 30th, 2024 — song companion: loved

“Don’t forget that you need to pick up Sunny early Saturday morning for her class camping trip.” 

Hearing her voice on the phone, clipped with orders, used to make Namjoon wince. Now he is used to it. Always so business-like, even when talking about their only child. 

“Did you get that?” 

Her voice returns when he doesn’t answer. He holds back from rolling his eyes and calmly answers. “Yeah, I got that. Saturday morning. Early.” 

His reaction isn’t the only thing he is holding back. Asking why six-year-olds would go on a camping trip might only end up with him getting a long lecture through the phone. He doesn’t have that much time to endure that. And having his ear burning from it is really the last thing he needs right now. 

“Right. I’ll text you the details.” A sigh, then, “Sunny also wants you to be the one to drive her to school Monday. So I’m packing up extra clothes for her to stay with you another night. Is that good?” 

Namjoon closes his eyes. As much as he loves having extra time with his daughter, having the child’s mother schedule their time for him without consulting him first rubs him the wrong way. If he doesn’t know any better, he would have thought that she keeps doing this as a payback. Causing trouble and brushing his ego for choosing to step out of their marriage—the marriage that she had worked so hard to paint as perfect for the world to see. 

But Namjoon knows better. 

He knows that she has always been this way. 

Even when they were still together, she always had to be the one running the show, while Namjoon would have to follow. She was the one holding the pen, writing the story for them through her rose-coloured glasses, while forcing him into a role that he never felt like he could fit into. 

At one point, it caused him to lose himself. 

Only that he realised it too late. Far too late, because it hadn’t just started when they got married, but long before—when they grew up together and being fed their parents’ beliefs that they would end up together once they turned adults; when they became teenagers and she insisted that it would only be right if they started dating to make their parents’ dreams come true and when she started planning their wedding day just when Namjoon was starting to find a chance to write his own story, to walk a different path, with a completely different person. 

It wasn’t until he was able to find his old self and feel like himself again through the mistakes he made when he finally found the courage to leave that life. Yet, once again, he was too late. 

Far too late. 

“Namjoon? Do you—” 

Her voice breaks him out of his wandering thoughts, only for her words to get drowned by the sound of the announcement blaring through the speakers above his head. 

“Attention, passengers on Flight 345 with service to Sydney. We are now beginning our boarding process at Gate 12B. Please…” 

The voice fades as passengers rush in front of him to find the departure gate, and Namjoon waits until the announcement stops before taking his palm off his phone. 

“Where are you? Are you on another business trip?” 

Namjoon almost laughs. He finds it hard to believe that after spending an entire fifteen minutes on call with him, she never thought about asking him where he was or where he was up to. 

Business as usual. Even when it’s about our new arrangement. 

“Australia. I just landed. That’s why I couldn’t take your call until now.” 

“Oh…” 

“You do realise the longer you’re on this call, the more expensive it will be, don’t you?” 

Silence, then her bitter voice is heard. “How was I supposed to know where you were?” 

You could have asked. 

Sighing, Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, just text or email me all the details about Sunny’s trip. I’ll be back in Seoul Friday afternoon. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Her voice softens. “Take care, Namjoon.” 

The call ends, and Namjoon breathes a heavy sigh. Feeling exhaustion after speaking to her is one thing, but once it wanes, guilt always seems to take root. It doesn’t matter if he had fallen out of love a long time ago. He cannot deny that he has made too many mistakes that he is still trying hard to make up for. His decision to stay in the marriage for Sunny, using her as an excuse to hang on to the final threads that were offered to him instead of stepping away from that fallen marriage, was his last, yet probably most detrimental for his own mental health and any chance he ever had to make things right for everyone. 

Including you. 

Hoisting his duffle bag on his shoulder, Namjoon walks across the airport’s lot to find his ride. There is a reason why he is here, and he isn’t going to stop until he finds what he is searching for. 

It takes him nearly an hour to reach his destination. 

The small coffee shop looks quite inconspicuous as it stands between various other shops downtown, yet it still catches Namjoon’s eyes the moment he arrives. 

Quaint and delicate, with natural wooden colours chosen as the accents at the front side of the shop and dark window frames, it reminds him so much of you. 

The sound of the bell chimes above his head as he steps in, immediately welcomed by the fresh scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and a bit of cinnamon. Spicy and sweet and pleasantly warm. A young boy with a thick Australian accent welcomes him from the cashier, yet his eyes travel across the room, where the figure that has been filling his dreams at night appears. 

Smiling at the young barista, he walks up towards you instead. You have yet to notice him in the room. Your eyes are locked on the small child sitting on the sofa by the corner, swinging his legs as he receives a small sip cup from your hands. 

His eyes find him first, looking over your shoulder while you still have your back facing Namjoon and the front door. 

“Now you sit tight right here until Mommy finishes work, okay? And don’t—”

“Mama?” the boy cuts you off before you can finish speaking, his chubby finger pointing towards Namjoon, “Da..?” 

Your body freezes. Namjoon hears a soft gasp before you straighten up and slowly turn to face him. The moment you see him standing there, your eyes grow wide and you quickly move to hide your son behind you. Only the child is quick, as he hops off the sofa to stand right behind you, clinging onto your legs as he peeks at Namjoon. 

A line which he read from your letter echoes in his mind as he returns the boy’s curious gaze, just as it does many nights after you were gone—

“I have a boy. He’s here. He might have a dimple on his cheek too that might show up once he’s grown a bit older. His name is…” 

Namjoon bends down. “Sammy, is it?” 

The boy, Sammy, slowly nods. Namjoon smiles. “You look handsome. You’re being a good boy to your Mommy now?” 

“Yea…” 

Chuckling softly, Namjoon straightens up to face you. Your eyes are covered with tears as you look back at him. “How—” you gasp, “What are you doing here?” 

Because I’ll chase you to the end of the world if I could. 

Those are the words that Namjoon has always wanted to say to you. A promise that he never got a chance to say before you left him. It was a mistake that he had been dreading the most when he first received your letter, along with a copy of your sonogram and your final word of goodbye. 

“Keeping a promise,” he merely says. “I think we have a lot to talk about.” 

A deep sigh escapes your lips. The sound pains him. But the sight of every tension being lifted from your shoulders gives him a sense of calm. 

“I guess we do,” you whisper to him with a broken smile. 

A lot of them. 

He can almost hear those words coming from you. Just like he almost says out loud,

I have all the time in the world to talk and listen now. For you. 

For your fall tune, I think this song will fit perfectly well for this.

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: dia’s birthday bash 2024 ⇝ closed!

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with�� a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[bunniesnuggie]

ethan landry as a caregiver

ethan landry x hyper fem little!reader

summary: just some headcanons of our favorite nerd as a first time caregiver 💕

*this is a non-ghostface au, he’s alive and not a stabby boy 👍🏻💗

*not proofed*

quick lil heads up - i’ve literally never seen scream 6… and have no idea who anyone is except ethan so, keep that in mind. but i still have been kinda obsessed with him lately :3

♡finds out by coming home early from class and finding you fully regressed in his dorm

he’s so cute; he didn’t even know anything was “wrong” at first. just enjoying the sight of his adorable girlfriend laying on his bed in his shirt cuddling the build a bears you made for each other, watching barbie movies. that is, until you yelped and leaped off the bed, and literally started crying. traumatized him ™️

♡ himbo DID NOT understand,

he will never EVER judge you. but did have to do research b4 fully getting it, like cutiepie was reading phyc books during his classes and reading different posts online 💕but didn’t say anything abt it to you tho. just kinda became a mama bear one day 😭 he does ask you lots of questions when your big tho

♡ once he does get it tho…. OH BOY

he had no idea he would love taking care of someone so much, this is both of your guys first relationships. everything is new, this is no different to him than learning your favorite things or how you like to be comforted. he knows this is simply coping for you, and he would do anything for you. so helping you heal you inner child is nothing out of the question

♡ soft casual dominance is kinda already his thing, so it comes naturally

so he’s used to tying you shoes for you, holding your hand out in public, he’ll order you food and talk to strangers for you. so when he does become your caregiver, the dynamic in public isn’t really that different 🫶🏻

♡ bathtime, playtime, naps!!!

he loves spending time with you while your regressed!! he colors with you and totally plays dolls or dress up. he’s very pretty and loves when you tell him so while putting clips in his hair☺️

♡ lego bf!

literally buys you sm lego sets, easier ones like duplo for when ur smaller and the more complex “adult” ones for date night :}

♡ he also gets vv invested in your shows and stuffies lives

“he did WHAT?!? why would he do that, can’t he tell that is not Ariel????? i mean her hair isn’t even RED!!!” 🤬🤬 becomes an angry boi. he totally spills the tea with ur stuffies during tea parties😗

♡ makes sure you guys go on “little” dates at least twice a month

you guys are basically attached at the hip, young love and all, so dates are frequent. but when he became ur caregiver, he wanted to make sure you knew he wanted to do this and be there for you 1000%. he also wanted to help you with regressing regularly to help you cope with stress. you once told him that you hadn’t regressed once in like 5 months and it was not fun when you finally did, he learned abt “improper” regression that night and never wanted to let it happen to you again 🥹

♡ embodies spider-man!bf energy

he LOVES the hellokitty!gf x spider-man!bf trends. he literally thinks it was made for you guys nerd. makes you bracelets that say bunny and daddy on it, his is red a blue and urs is pink and white, awe💕💕lowkey feel like he’d dress up as spider-man for halloween too

♡ speaking of nicknames, say good bye to ur real name

even before he found out you were a little, it was always sweetheart, bunny, angel, pretty girl, baby, princess etc that boy loves you so much and he shows it. after though he added in little one, babybug, tiny, dolly…anything that makes you feel especially small

♡ literally always carrying you

this man is 6’2, he makes chad look small he towers over you and absolutely loves it. so he takes advantage of it when he can, piggyback rides are a common occurrence. he loves just holding you in his lap, seeing ur tiny body take up such little space and fit perfectly on him, makes him 🫠

♡ is SO SOO protective

people take him for granted, thinking he’s just some sweet, docile nerd who loves econ. and while that is true, bby can kick butt and will for you. he doesn’t let anyone near you while regressed, heck or even see pictures of you regressed. that is your safe space. he will be damned if he lets anyone taint it. he also asked of you would be ok with him monitoring you socials while small, especially if you have agere accounts. he does not take anon hate lightly and will not tolerate any nsfw accounts trying to interact with you

♡ he just loves you so much and wants u to always be happy

like i said he will do absolutely anything for you, that boy loves you more than anything in the world. he shows it to you every day, whether that be in big space by showering you with kisses and complements, showing you off in public with an uncomfy amount of pda. or in the comfort of your room, surrounded by stuffies and coloring books while your dada reads you a story 💗

a/n: ahhhh i’m back!!!! sorry it’s literally been like….a year👀i haven’t regressed in a very very long time and just haven’t had motivation to post :( i’ve also been obsessed with new ppl so i’ve been writhing non-eddie stuff lately :3 anywho here’s a lil smth smth and hopefully i’ll be posting a bit again. i want to write abt barry from obx but idk if anyone would care or read it 😭😭might just draft that one for me lol. i’ve also got a lot of requests and wips to finish so it’s just up to me to write them 🫠😭

*i’ll be updating my character list to included the new ppl i want to write about!!!

tag list//

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil- -baby- -bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

[ros3ybabe]

Weekly Check In - November 12th, 2023 🎀

ugh I feel like I’ve been neglecting my blogs, and that’s not what I want to be doing!!!

I have finals coming up so soon, including exams and final papers (looking at you, psychology research paper). Not to mention I’m still working 5 days a week, classes 4 days a week, working out 3-5 days a week on top of all my adulting duties. It’s safe to safe I have been a little stressed lately, no doubt about that. It really got me bad because it was impacting my relationship with my boyfriend and the last thing I want to do is cause unnecessary stress and anxiety for him. I know I let my stress and anxieties get the best of me when I realized I was the one causing 98% of all of our arguments and issues this last few weeks. Luckily I was able to come to the realization that it had been my fault, so him and I talked it through and worked it out and I missed him that I would work both on myself more as well as work with my therapist and develop better coping strategies for times of high stress.

🩷 let’s recap this last week with some highlights! And then I will tal about my goals for the upcoming week!

I had to go talk to my PSYC TA about how far I’d fallen behind in the class and she was able to give me some encouragement and a lot of help and really set me on the path in the right direction, so I definitely have hope that I’ll pass this class with a B at worst, which is still an awesome grade!

I finally made it back to my cooking class and the professor was so kind, he told me it always upset his days when I’d miss class for the week and he asked me if was doing okay and how things were going. I think he’s in his 50s or 60s, and he’s just a very kind man, reminds me of my own dad. Has that typical old man dad humor and his cooking class has actually help me become more comfortable with my own cooking skills as of this semester. Definitely one of my favorite classes, and my classmates were the best too.

I registered for the next semester and I am sooo looking forward to the course load. Well, for the most part anyways. I have to retake Chemistry 2 as well as the lab but luckily the college offers a supplemental type of course to help with the actual class so that’s gonna be awesome. I’m also taking a sports medicine focused medical terminology course online, another once a week food focused course about food production, a psychology of emotion course (super super excited for this class), and I registered for a yoga class for the semester! I feel like having yoga twice a week will definitely help with stress and relaxation and just overall keep me on the right track health wise for the semester! I think I’m taking a total of almost 18 credit hours but other yoga class itself is 2 credits so it’s definitely gonna be an easier semester at least schedule and course load wise.

My work bestie had her baby shower! I can’t believe she’s 8 months pregnant with a little boy, he’s already so lucky to have her and her man as parents. She was absolutely glowing at her baby shower and I’m so happy that I got to go and support her. I’ve known her for going on three years already so it made my day to both be invited and get to see how excited she got when I went.

I bought matcha powder! (Amongst other health stuff, including some new gym gear for my lower body days) I have a mini traditional matcha set so I thought I’d finally use it no bought some matcha powder online! I’m super excited to try my hand at making myself matcha lattes. I even bought a milk frother so I’m a little excited.

I changed up my fitness goals and routine a bit. I’m still going to the gym 3 days a week for weight lifting, but now two of those are lower body days and the other is an upper body day. I’m also going to continue with my two days of cardio but on those two days I am also going to do some at home mat Pilates to help with my overall fitness, appearance, and health goals. I’ve heard that some lower intensity workouts are pretty good for women with PCOS so I thought incorporating that would be a good idea.

I’m Vitamin D deficient and I had no idea! I used to take vitamin D supplements at my old doctors request when I was a teenager but I stopped when I can rot college because I was no longer being advised to take it nor were my blood levels being check regularly so I figured ehh not a big deal but I recently got lab work done and yep, I am semi severely vitamin d deficient. So now I gotta look into different foods I can incorporate as well as a vitamin d supplement and more time in the sun!

I’ve been keeping up a decent skincare routine with a bunch of new products I bought and can I just say, the Anua Heartleaf Oil Cleanser is an absolute god send. I’m obsessed with Asian/Korean skincare. It’s done so much for my skin, I can’t recommend it enough!

overall, not a bad week this last week. this recap is for only (mainly) November 4th through yesterday, November 11th.

🩷 my upcoming goals and things for this week! (November 12th thru 18th)

Keep up with all my homework and turning assignments in completed and on time. I’m trying to finish the semester off strong, or at least as strong as I can. That just means it’s grind time and I gotta buckle down and get my school stuff done.

Insurance. I need to purchase insurance because the state I live in says I make too much to qualify for full coverage insurance which is an issue with the meds I take and the doctors I currently see, as well as my therapist. Adulting, yay!

Complete at least a draft and/or reel for my dietetics mentor by Saturday/next Sunday as the deadline was to have something sent to her by Monday at noon. So my goal is to have some drafts of content for her as soon as possible.

Work out at least three days this week. I’ve been consistent with going every week for the last four weeks but I haven’t been as consistent with how many days within the week that I’ve been going. So that’s definitely a goal of mine.

Look into a Pilates class/studio I can join by the beginning of next semester. I definitely want to take some classes to help with form and proper technique, but I think I want to give myself some time to build more confidence so that way I can give it my all in the future classes I take. Plus, my finances don’t exactly permit me taking Pilates classes at the moment. So my goal is to do some research now and then make a decision by mid January.

My boyfriend and I are hitting a year and a half together this week! Ahh I love him so much, I’m so excited for yet another milestone. Pretty soon we’ll be coming up on two years and I just couldn’t be happier. My man is my best friend, I’m so lucky and grateful that I have him in my life, especially as my partner <3

Attempt to make a matcha latte! My matcha powder comes in this week so I’m gonna try my hand at making my own matcha now!

Keep consistent with my skin care and self care. Also pick up journaling again this week as I think it’ll help me sort out my stressors and anxieties without harming my relationship with my man or my relationship with myself. Self care and working on my own well being benefit me in so many ways, I just need to keep consistent with it.

Restart my Duolingo and Busuu streaks as an attempt to get back into learning the Japanese language! Also begin to pick up Spanish again! Spanish is not too difficult for me to understand as a lot of people I’m around speak the language and I also took classes in high school and some in college. So I think splitting my time between Spanish and Japanese will be good and keep me from being bored and dropping my language studies altogether. I’m going to start with Spanish Duolingo and just go from there with it! once I get more comfortable with the languages I will start making small posts in those languages! Spanish will definitely come easier than Japanese tho, that’s for sure.

that’s all for this upcoming week! It feels like it’s going to be busy but next week is our break for thanksgiving so that’s one week of rest and relaxation and recovery for me. I won’t be spending the holiday with anyone but I don’t mind, it gives me a day to be mindful and grateful and just give me some time to myself that day, and for the whole week. Everyone who knows me in person knows I definitely need the time for myself. I think it’ll be very restorative for sure.

for those of you who follow my side blogs for my fitness, I’ll be posting to it here soon as well! I think I might update you on my current split and routine more in depth then what I mentioned here. And I’m going to drop a review of some of the new skincare products I’ve recently bought and tried as well! I’ll try to do a mid week update this week on this blog too!

til next time, lovelies 🩷🤍

[jokerislandgirl32]

Solar Eclipse Ziolet Style

In my Wild Kratts Professor AU, Zach is a college professor and Violet is his student. Eventually, Violet switches to online classes and works as a teacher’s aid while she gets her degree. She and Zach marry, and Zach becomes a frequent visitor at the school she works at, volunteering in her classes. So, I imagine this is how the solar eclipse viewing would go if Zach was present (remember, he does not have his Zachbots or many other inventions within this Au, they are developed as the AU progresses).

See below the cut for the cuteness 😂. Lowkey the thought of Professor Zach interacting with littles makes me feral. It’s just so perfect to me!!!

A Few Days Before The Eclipse

Violet: “Zach, do you want to come and watch the solar eclipse with our class?”

Zach: “Do I have to?”

Violet: “No, but they love you, it will be an experience they will remember forever, and you’ll be apart of it….besides….they are 5 and it’s about 70 of them….we could use another adult, and you are an approved volunteer…and I’d like you to be with me so we can experience it together.”

Zach: “Fine, but if one pukes I am out!”

Violet: “Ehhhhh, thank you! And noted, I won’t hold it against you, I don’t need you passing out on me like last time.”

Zach: *shuddering*: “I still have nightmares about it.”

At The Solar Eclipse, As Zach, Violet, and Her Colleagues are Passing Glasses Out And Helping Put Them On The Children

Zach *fustrated*: “Argh! Why don’t these fit them, they keep falling off!”

Violet *snickering, voice full of sarcasm*: “What are we going to do, tape them on?”

Zach *with a serious expression on his face*: “I’ll be right back.”

Violet *giving him a suspicious look*: “Where are you going?”

Zach *giving her a mischievous grin*: “Uhhh, to your desk…”

Violet *narrowing her eyes at him*: “Why?”

Zach *laughing*: “You’ll see…”

Violet *jaw dropping as Zach returns*: “Oh my goodness….you did not get tape….”

Zach *flabbergasted but offering her a roll of tape which she takes*: “You brought it up, not me! Besides! I just tried it on my own hair and a little bit will not hurt them. Now…Who wants their glasses to fit right?”

20 or so kiddos screaming “Meeeee!!!”

Zach *smiling smugly*: “Well, line up in front of me and Mrs. Varmitech!”

And no, my students were not harmed today from the tape, they had to explicitly ask for it, and an adult carefully removed it.

[notcaycepollard]

I just saw your Barbie jacket and fell in love, such beautiful work!

I want to get into sewing but have no idea where to start, do you have any tips?

Yes! FYI, I had the privilege of learning to sew at a really young age, around 10-12, thanks to 1) learning the basics from my mum 2) having a second-hand sewing machine I could futz around on as I pleased. But I truly think anyone can learn to sew, it does not have to be a childhood skill.

If you want to try it out before committing to buying anything except fabric, there are almost always community or adult education classes or courses that can teach you basics on their machines. Depends where you live but you might find them through your local community college or high school night class, library, YMCA/community centre, or even by asking at a fabric/craft store.

I highly recommend taking a couple of classes if you're a complete beginner - they can teach things like laying out and cutting patterns, threading a machine, the basic stitch and finishing options, etc. Often they can also teach you how to use your own machine, if you've bought one but you're a beginner.

If you want to try at home, at minimum you will need:

A basic sewing machine - you can very often find good second-hand machines online (ebay, craigslist, local buy/sell Facebook pages). Mine is a Janome and I've had it for almost 20 years, but the old 70s steel Singer machines are fantastic in terms of longevity.

A pair of reasonably sharp fabric scissors. You do not need to pay a million dollars for the best scissors, but going up a level from basic craft scissors, and keeping them only for cutting fabric (no paper) will make your cutting-out experience a lot easier.

A packet of sewing pins. For pinning down patterns and seams. I like the glass-head pins since they don't melt if you iron over them.

A tape measure for measuring yourself and checking your seam width, hems, etc.

An iron and ironing board (or table with a thick towel laid down, if space is a real problem).

A flat surface to lay out and cut your fabric - dining table or floor both work fine.

A needle for hand-sewing - to sew on things like buttons.

A box of empty bobbins to wind your bobbin thread onto.

In terms of patterns - there are a huge range of indie pattern companies online now (meaning they're not the big commercial patternmakers like Butterick). Most often, you can buy their patterns as a PDF and print it out on your home computer. In all honesty I much prefer indie patterns to commercial - they're often a lot more up to date with style, and usually not as expensive - but they can also be limited in terms of sizing, the range of style options, and some people really like a printed paper pattern instead of having to print your own. I recommend Papercut Patterns as an indie option that's great for beginners.

Indie instructions can also sometimes be a bit confusing (I find Etsy patterns the worst for this) although often you can email them and ask - or Google "[name of pattern] sew along" for a video tutorial. You can also find step by step video or blog post tutorials for pretty much every sewing technique, including things like putting in a zip, sewing buttonholes, etc.

Once you've picked your pattern, you'll obviously need fabric. There are a million people online who espouse the virtue of sewing with old bedsheets from thrift stores; in all honesty I don't love doing this because 1) I get a huge amount of joy from beautiful fabrics 2) if you want to make things that look 'professional'/store-bought, bedsheet cotton is not always your best friend. BUT it is probably the cheapest option for fabric, and a very good way to start or to test that a pattern fits and you know how to make it before you cut it out in the nice linen that cost $30 a yard. Using thrifted fabric is also obviously really eco-conscious, although a lot of fabric stores (especially independent ones vs chain stores like Spotlight or Joann) make a point of selling 'deadstock' fabric - fabric leftover from a clothing designer's run.

That's probably enough to start, honestly just fuck around and have fun with it, screw up a few times, lean into the imperfection. I still regularly scrap projects that aren't working for me, no shame in doing so as long as you're enjoying yourself!

[shining-kommo-o]

Same person again, and no you are absolutely right about Kalos and you should speak your truth, I remember it so vividly when I was 13 and the first trailer for it got released , I think time has forgotten HOW rabid everyone went for that trailer, microanalising every single frame of it, and making memes that finally Pokemon was going to be so so awesome in 3D , it’s one of those “you had to be there” type of moment . But oh boy the dissapointment I felt on release day, back then I didn’t have the words to explain why but looking back, these games were just, nothing. It genuinely was so bad that I was off put by Pokémon up until Gen 9, and even going back and replaying it plus the regions I missed , to this day as an adult I feel nothing towards Kalos , because I can see even clearly now the flaws of it. The story, the gameplay, the world , everything (minus the Pokémon themselves and Pokémon Amie )

Sorry for that rant as well, Gen 6 is… surely something eh

Finally someone understands!! I wasn't there for a majority of the discussion pre-release (and even post-release), since I had super limited access to the internet until I was about 16-17. But I was so hype when I got this game, and I ended up kind of disappointed but i didn't know why? Didn't have the words either back then, but now I do.

I think most of the people who really are ride or die with XY are the people who really loved that phase of the anime, or people who had XY as their first game. That's the pattern i've seen among my friends, and among online discussion, though i'm sure there are people out there who really love XY who fit neither of those categories. And if you like XY, no shade to you. I respect that. Live your life to its fullest, i'm glad there are some out there who love those games a lot.

But for me, the disappointment of Xerneas being stuck in this boring blue most of the time, the disappontment of my starter (chesnaught) not being able to mega evolve (and then having salt rubbed in the wound with greninja getting a new form in Alola, ik it's anime related but cmon), along with everything else, it stayed with me. I spent most of my time in Kalos gambling away by wonder trading.

Oh yeah and I also remember that bug that had Pokémon appear as grayscale around launch, that had people thinking if monochromatic Pokémon were a new, rarer than shinies variant.

There was also that glitched up Litleo too. That one was funny.

That and how you couldn't save in Lumiose City at launch, otherwise it'd basically ruin your save file. And how Nintendo literally released a map to show you where not to save before they put out a patch.

This isn't to say "Kalos bad because glitches", just that to me, someone really invested in glitches and oddities, those really stuck out to me :P

Anyways, I asked some friends a while back, what Pokémon game they'd rather play out of all of them, and I know this isn't really conclusive evidence, but usually the answers I got were ORAS if they wanted a game with mega evos, or USUM. And that tracks with my own thoughts as well (tho I mostly prefer to play base SuMo haha). Curious to know if others feel this way as well.

I think I also feel a bigger kinship towards SuMo because that's the first Pokémon gen I actually got to keep up with pre-release (anyone remember when they'd show new pokémon weekly?? I started college at that time, I remember watching them as they dropped, sometimes in class, sometimes with friends. I remember when Primarina, who had been leaked prior, was revealed. I was so happy ;w;)

[burritosandpeppermint]

UUUUGGGGGHHHHH

uuuuggggghhhhh

I'm not 100% sure how we got back here, folks, but I'm 100% obsessing over music and guitars for the first time since I was a teenager.

Guys...it's bad.

And for those who've known me for a long time here you may be hearing about this for the first time, but I could not get enough of playing guitars, reading about guitars, and listening to as much guitar music as I could when I was a teenager.

Could I actually play? Not really. I mean, not if you're talking about any lessons at all or trying to learn from a book or anything. I just kind of picked it up and kept playing around for years, just laying down riff after riff and playing with solo after solo. Just fucking around.

And then, eventually, I needed money and didn't have space anymore and I had to sell everything. I thought that door was closed by the time I was in my early 20's, starting to really work for a living and trying to live an adult's life. I looked back on those years a bit wistfully but with a real feeling that I had left childish things behind me...

Until the last month or so. I think I can point the finger squarely at us attending the Guns N' Roses show. Even with 100° F heat and me wishing that I had brought my earplugs I got swept away with it all, specifically with Slash. He'd change guitars regularly, usually for something that I was familiar with him playing. After the show I got curious and looked up his gear online to discover the web pages devoted to his guitars and his playing in general. Then I started Googling some guitars to see if they're still around, and any variations...and how have amps changed in the last 25 years...oh, emulators sure have come a long way...and they're fairly affordable...and while Fender's lineup has changed significantly since the 90s they still have a lot of decent guitars at reasonable prices...

All the while I'm also getting back into bands and songs I haven't heard in up to decades, just gorging myself on all the 90s rock I also "put away" at some point in my 20s, like one of my favorite bands, Hum, and getting into groups I could have really dug at the time, like My Bloody Valentine, and exploring newer stuff like finally getting more into Red Fang's discography...and then new bands and sounds spiraling off of those listens and searches...

And guys...GUYS...since I was into guitars this whole internet thing exploded, so I can hear guitars and amps and pedals and interviews that simply weren't available to me when I was previously obsessed. I can get a far better sense for things than driving an hour away to the nearest Guitar Center only to keep my hands in my pockets as I look at gear and equipment, too afraid to do anything in public, eventually going home and noodling by myself for a while.

And did you know that there are a ton of free or paid online classes where you don't have to interact with a human if it makes you feel self-conscious or anxious? And did you know that the Fender Mustang Micro Amp can fit in your pocket, has some EQ and preset sound options, a headphone jack, and can plug directly into your computer? And it's only $120 for an amp that's more versatile than the one I had 30 years ago AND it can help you can basically use it as a direct-to-computer recording device? And, holy crap, but GarageBand, while simple, is still a very competent recording suite and it's just free, right there on my Mac and everything?

Okay, breathing.

Because this is how it goes for me. I get all interested in something, all wound up, and I imagine how cool things can be, what I'll do, how things will turn out, all with an overactive imagination, until I'm just done with it and I move on. Except I don't know if I move on because I never follow through or if it's because I just fixate on things in a capricious manner. If it's because I never follow through then I should change that by following through (hello, writing ideas from five months ago that turned into nothing). But if it's because I'm capricious then I should just let it be and it'll ride itself out.

Now: how can I tell the difference without a lot of time, money, and effort? That's the question.

But it's been kinda fun as a weird hobby, just looking and reading and watching and listening. Maybe the fear of disappointment will be enough to keep me away from actually doing it, which isn't great, and maybe I should pursue more things that I think will bring me joy, even if I never truly get into it or keep it going for long, because life is short and pursuing happiness should be one of life's goals.

[lonepower]

oh I did NOT expect this many new followers from my silly dog post, holy cow! hello!

I told Tater Tot she's very popular on Tumblr and she sneezed on my face. I'm not sure what that means but probably "thank you" or "treats?"

A couple people mentioned Brittany spaniel and I thought that too when I first saw her, esp. from the markings, but now I don't think so. Her mom was definitely an Aussie so that part at least is certain, but her quietly observant & attached behavior, her floofy drop tail, and the slope of her back all say "livestock guardian" to me. We have a feral cat who comes by every day and is not sold on the new addition, but Tater Tot doesn't show any interest in going after her the way a herding dog or gundog would. She's also big (~50lbs), bigger than our last Aussie!

She actually loves hugs which is unusual for a lot of dogs, so everyone who asked me to give her a hug has been obliged (and now I am covered in giant white hairs - another point in favor of Pyrenees) (◡⌣◡) 

We probably would have named her something else, but she came with "Tater Tot" and it fits her so perfectly (plus she already answers to it) that we're keeping it. Her littermates were Pancake and Hash Brown.

Not dog related but @ the 5 teenagers among you: Hello! You are perfectly welcome, my blog is strictly PG-13 - I will post the occasional pinup/artistic nudity (such as what you'd see in any art history class)/suggestive content, but it's always tagged, and I never reblog anything explicit. I also try to keep politics, discourse, and heavy topics off as much as possible. That being said: I SHOULD NOT KNOW HOW OLD YOU ARE. I can say I'm a safe adult and absolutely mean it, but you have no way of verifying that! Go take your ages out of your bios! Always lie to strangers online! Be safe out there, kids! 

To the one person who said my dog was "gross", idk, that sounds like a you problem. 

To everyone else: thank you so so much for your kind words!!! she's a very good dog and she will definitely be very well loved here (:

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary166

2/27-28/2024

tuesday - wednesday

sooo tired.

i'll keep work related stuff short, i got sent in early, i was there from 3:00 to 9:57. i did take a 30 minute break though, but i didn't eat or anything. i woke up at about 11 am, so i didn't eat from then to about 11 pm. i also got complained about at work, because a woman thought i made her pay for a ride and her kids weren't able to get on or something and then like, used her credits to let people on or something, or that i was letting people on for free at some point. i don't remember anything like that happening, i think i just said no to her and she had to throw a fit.

anyway the problem song from last night is still a problem i think. some stuff needs to be fixed so i'm gonna do that. i'm also making toast. i did make actual dinner too but i am just sooo hungry lol.

the song is getting there. i just read an article about disney adults, and it's made me powerfully sad. not much else to say beyond that.

now i'm listening to built to spill, it's been a while, as a kid they were a favorite, or since being a kid, they've been a favorite. this time around, nothing's really changing there. but the memories are less about when i saw them as a kid, and more about my more recent brushes with them, i got to see them live a few years ago, and it was a really great concert, it was lovely to see doug up there playing songs off keep it like a secret. but the memories are specifically about this guy i saw there, unexpectedly, a very online guy i met in a class, about american short stories. the class was good, and i sat by this guy, and i really liked him. not romantically, i just found him charming in an earnest way, i wish we talked more, i wish we saw eachother more, he liked my 100% electronica shirt, he was very nice. when i saw him at the built to spill show, he was really feeling the music, when i told him i never really listened to keep it like a secret he said "well, you're gonna love this, this is the good stuff." and i saw him, during keep it like a secret, mouthing every word, fist in the air, eyes closed. it was religious for him, this memory of him, of chad, his name is chad, really moves me, his existence came off as very vulnerable, to be chad was to be vulnerable, i felt like, i dunno. he seemed very neurotic i suppose. or maybe not very, but he seemed sad in evident ways, he really moved me i guess. i dunno. men like that always do. it's people who seem to be horrifically sad, and people who i seem to be incapable of really getting to know, that linger in my mind, but never remain in my life. i guess now it's this sense that i'd like to staunch the misery by being his friend, up to now, but i'm bad at talking to people. i still need to talk to my mom.

for a while, on twitter, he'd sometimes interact with posts, and i'd interact with his. i liked that, it's sad too though, i wish we all had an easier time of being in each others lives.

the song does sound better now, at least. i feel so emotionally fried today. long hours really mess me up. it doesn't seem sustainable. i have to do it again today. maybe i need to do something to make that less, uhhhhh, likely, to happen to me, i guess. but idk what to really do. if i just say i can't work (x) days they might like, give me fucked up stupid shifts or something. guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. this is the thing i hate, feeling my life taken away. i feel like a dumb stupid animal and like all that's waiting for me if i move an inch is punishment via stick on my stupid tiny skull and my brains splattering across everythingggggggggggggggg. or maybe just the back of a dryer, and my remains going unremoved, cooking off the heat of the dryer.

i feel like crying. dumb.

something bothers me about people being compliant, i guess, with that. but that's stupid, i shouldn't care, i just really hate knowing of people who are like workaholics basically, like they love it, that's like, disgusting to me almost. it's one person i'm thinking of, maybe that makes it okay, because i'm not even thinking of a type. i'm thinking of one human who bothers me. i'm just dumb and confused right now. i want to put my head underneath something super heavy.

unrelated to wanting to destroyyy myself, i think the song above has one of the most perfect snare sounds ever. the snare rolls are so violent, and still it's like, cute, too. it's perfect, as a sound. i wanna find something near that, and make grindcore with it, soon. maybe for the next ep, i'll evolve this drumkit in that direction, nail the snare sound.

3 am ughghhghg. i am gonna work out and try to feel better.

i worked out, and i think i've got this song right, for real this timeee. yayyyyyyyyyyy.

so, i should sleep now,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[caintooth]

Just realized I’ve never actually shared the text from my top surgery fundraiser here, so:

Hi, my name is Ez Charlie Tadgh. (Mostly Charlie these days, but a lot of you still know me as Ez, which is fine, too!)

I’m writing today to ask for help in affording gender affirming top surgery.

To tell you a bit more about me: I’m a recent college graduate, a queer and autistic poet, an aspiring silversmith, hobbyist photographer, and an amateur chainmail weaver. In my free time I also enjoy playing video games and watching / talking about films. I'm currently raising a leopard gecko (her name is Poppy) and taking metalworking classes when life allows. My professional life is in the sex industry, as I am a customer service and sales representative for an online adult toy store.

Deciding to make this fundraiser has been a long time coming. Finally typing out the words feels surreal… For most of my life, even before having a name for my dysphoria, I’ve concealed the shape of my body in purposely ill-fitting shirts, and worn zip-up jackets even in dangerously hot weather to disguise the shape of my chest. I've spent years purposely manipulating my posture, intentionally hunching my shoulders to make my chest appear smaller. I've avoided hugs, kept my arms crossed over my front, practiced the exact way to stand in photos, all to try and make my chest seem flatter. Even wearing a binder has offered little relief- the compression of the traditional style does not agree with my asthma, and though TransTape allows me to breathe better (it feels like a literal weight off my shoulders!) it very easily triggers my sensory issues, and sometimes makes my psoriasis flair up under my breasts.

These practices aren't sustainable. They're damaging both my mental and physical health... This body IS the house I will live in for the rest of my life, y'know? I can't keep boarding up the walls, I can't keep fantasizing about moving. I need to make real renovations, so it can stop being just a place I live, and instead truly become my HOME.

So, yeah. I am finally at the point where I know I can't do this on my own anymore. Every day the need for this procedure becomes more clear and urgent in my mind.

Trans healthcare in this country is notoriously inaccessible, confusing, and expensive. I'm lucky to live within driving distance of Dr. Hope Sherie in Charlotte, NC, a surgeon who I have seen nothing but good reviews about, and who has been recommended to me by more than one trusted friend. However, my insurance will not cover this procedure, and I am regularly seeing $10,000 quoted as the amount for top surgery at Dr. Sherie's office. I have some money saved up towards that amount already, but it is only a small piece of the complete financial puzzle.

I have my first consultation with Dr. Sherie on May 1st, and plan to post an update with exact figures after that meeting. I have already paid $100 as deposit for this consultation, and will need to pay a non-refundable fee of $1,000 to reserve my surgery date, on the day it is selected. I will have to pay the rest of the surgery cost 3 weeks before the date of the surgery. (Should I need to reschedule during that final 3 weeks, I will have to pay a second, also non-refundable $1,000 deposit.) This is not even including the cost for any prescription medications, lab fees, post-op care materials, or other surgery-necessitated garments and binders for this procedure. Should I need any revisions after the initial procedure, the minimum fee would be $1,000.

I also need to consider the fact that I will have to take some time off of work for the surgery itself and the recovery period, thus losing at minimum 2 weeks pay (that's a full paycheck for me) and will need to buy extra food and health supplies for that period.

I don't want this surgery to feel like some sort of hardship I'm having to go through. I want it to be safe, I want to feel secure during this process, I want to know I'm not going to be stressed the entire time. That's what all of this is about, anyway:

Trying to achieve a state of comfort.

Anything you can do to help me towards this goal will receive my eternal gratitude and respect. I am constantly in awe of our community, and the level of support we can provide for one another. I feel grateful for even having the chance to ask for this sort of help. Thank you. I love y'all.

[thecoolerliauditore]

I know I don't deserve another response from you, so just ignore this if you want. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sent that message. I appreciate the kindness you gave me that I don't really deserve.

Honestly... I just can't believe that artists don't have a knack to start with. Because I've always had a knack for anything I'm good at, like math. I never really had to put effort into learning math. And even the things that I'm good at that did take effort I still had a knack at the beginning. I'm not trying to downplay artists' effort, I know it does take effort, but I don't think you can just start from 0. Or at least, I can't. So I'm not making that conclusion just on other people's art but also in other things I'm good at.

By the way, I'm not the person who sent the "life is unfair" ask, but I was already feeling negative and saw Struda's response and I reacted even worse.

My life's going pretty well all things considered, and I'm going to a good college to study some STEM related stuff. In the background I've struggled with this desire to be creative, though, and I'm trying to stifle that desire but it's not working, and no one really seems to have tutorials on how to get rid of that desire. I have a therapist and parents I could talk to, but doing so didn't help, either, because they don't understand what I'm trying to say.

I'm sorry also that it came off as guilt trippy. I'm really bad with managing my tone, especially when I'm feeling like this. I don't mean that as an excuse but as an explanation.

nah this is way more like it, i think we all need a bit of practice online with talking to each other like actual human beings and not text boxes to write ur entire internal monologue into 👍

happy to hear your life is going okay! If anything I'm just glad you're an adult who can reflect on yourself enough to recognize what you were doing was not great. I was trying to keep things vague as possible because, again, idk you and you could've been a 13 year old with no allowance for all i know lol.

i've noticed alot of beginner artists tend to have this.. all or nothing mindset? i don't really understand the desire to stifle your need to create. like. are you not allowed to have a hobby lol. amateur means to love yada yada. especially if you're not trying to make a living out of it where's the rush 😭😭

Going to link this marco bucci video again because even tho it's long it's probably one of the most eye-opening things I've ever watched in terms of his view on talent, gifted kid syndrome, etc.

I used to say I had a 'knack' for art tbh. then i realised i.. really didn't? i just drew more than the other kids in my class because i didn't like sports or maths and got the reputation for being "the art kid". funnily enough i was also into creative writing and history but no one looks at reciting historical facts like they do with drawing 🤷‍♂️

it wasn't til i was in a course with other artists everywhere when I realised just how not-talented i really was. and thats fine cus none of us really were. some of us were just better at learning than others (which is a trained skill in of itself) and that's about it. 👍

if it helps at all, I have gotten into sports recently despite being useless at it all my life and have realised that it was more that I just needed an environment to flourish in instead of any problem with my athleticism itself (which is STILL BAD don't get me wrong but im not hopeless like my gym teachers thought i was 😭😭). so maybe what u need is just the right people? try finding an online artist community that you fit in, make some friends, and just chill with them while making art together?

again i dunno you so idk what would work lmao

so uh yeah 👍

[solarishashernoseinabook]

ID copied from below the cut for accessibility

Main comic transcription credit: @thejacespace​

Image 1:

[Author avatar, feminine presenting person with brown hair and a blue overall skirt] TEA, 26 SHE/HER AUTISM DYSPRAXIA “Oh!! Is it my turn now? Nice! Hello!! I was diagnosed with autism in 2017.”

When I found out, I hoped I’d be able to find practical advice for all the things I struggled with. But the advice I found… was usually intended for allistic* [non-autistic] parents, teachers, or employers.

[Author reading articles titled, “Help your child focus in class by-” “How to stop your child from having meltdowns” “10 reasons to hire an autistic pers-”]

So after plenty of research, talking to friends, and trying things out for myself, here are… [images of author conducting research]

(just a few) Tips For Autistic Adult Life!

Including website resources for more information!

Image 2: Dealing With Chores and Tasks!

Meet: Executive Dysfunction [image of cat] + Pathological Demand Avoidance [image of dog] Two challenging traits!

In short:

Executive Dysfunction impacts our ability to start or plan tasks. It may feel like you can’t begin, even with no obstacles. [image of cat in front of dirty dishes, thinking, “I can’t start yet!”]

PDA, meanwhile, causes us to intensely avoid tasks, BECAUSE of the expectation to do it. [image of dog pulling on leash labelled “expectation” protesting, “I don’t need to do it!” “I can do it later, okay?!”]

These might help:

[ED] -Ask for company to keep you focused while you do the task! This could be a call, or in person. -Say the next step of your task out loud. Repeat as needed. -Break down your to-do lists, like this!

Ongoing task!

Step 1 (done)

Step 2

Step 3… etc! [image of cat saying, “ Plates done, cups next!”] *transcription note: reformatted steps to fit tumblr

[PDA] -If the “expected” way is stressing you out, look for your own way of doing it! -Decide on an “out” for events, but don’t intend on using it. This reduces stress, since you know you can leave if you must. -Some find disguising demands helpful, eg: [image of dog saying, “I’m not actually starting yet, I’m just setting things up so it’ll be easy later!”]

And some which help me:

[ED] Something is always better than nothing! Appreciate the small things you get done each day, even things like washing or eating. [image of cat patting their own head]

[PDA] Put on some shoes! Strangely, I find I’m always more keen to get things done if I have shoes on. I can’t wear them in bed, after all! [image of dog wearing shoes]

Go around it! Does just one part of the task feel scary? [image of cat anxious about a phone call] Try to plan your way around it, treat it like a puzzle! [image of cat thinking]

Image 3: Out And About!

[image of bunny thinking, “I can get so overwhelmed at the shops! Every sight and sound is designed to catch your eye. Ah. I forgot what I needed…]

[image of sunflower and sunflower lanyard that says, “hidden disability”] Some public places (like shopping centres and airports) will give you a sunflower lanyard if you ask. This is part of a project that lets staff know you have an invisible disability. hiddendisabilities.com

[image of shopping list] Try grouping your shopping list by areas. Or if there’s no time for lists, I snap a pic of the fridge! [image of bunny photographing inside of open fridge]

You may want to wear one if you’d like extra help finding things or using facilities! [image of bunny wearing a mask and sunflower lanyard]

Restaurants can be a lot, too. Sometimes with all the noise, once I get the menu… [image of bunny in overstimulating restaurant environment saying, “Ah. I can’t read.”] Some restaurants have their menu online, so you can plan before you go!

Image 4: In The Workplace!

There’s a statistic that only 22% of UK autistic people are in work. [image of pie chart, colored like a cheese wheel, with a portion labelled, “22%”] [Author avatar speaking] Until 2020, I was one of ‘em! So for now, I’ll leave you with this wee guy! [image of mouse in a tie]

Whether you disclose your autism is entirely up to you If you do, a good place to start is with Human Resources (HR). They can help you without telling anyone else about it. [Image of mouse talking to elephant wearing an HR nametag]

You can ask for adjustments! This could be clear written instructions, different lighting, or moving to a quieter place with less distractions… etc. [image of frantic, overwhelmed mouse moving to a quieter environment where they are more relaxed]

Some jobs have LOTS of info. I used a blank notebook for: -step by step guides for tasks -to-do lists and tracking progress -any issues or questions I had -desk maps to help me find people. [image of notebook opened to notes on printing and copying as well as a calendar]

Speak to a manager or HR if you think you’re being bullied at work. This could be: -constant harsh critique of your work -rude comments on your intelligence/looks -uncalled for threats to fire you [image of mouse being threatened by hedgehog coworker]

Image 5: Sensory Overloads (part 1)

Due to masking, sensory overload in adults isn’t always obvious - even to us! Maybe there was a big social event, or just a busy day. Suddenly, there’s Too Much. Sounds all suddenly feel unbearable! [images of tiger distressed and angered by sounds of music and slurping] You might feel snappy if someone tries to talk to you or touch you. Or you might shut down and struggle to keep talking or moving. Autistic fatigue is very real, and sensory overload, masking, and stress can all cause it.

Pressure therapy can be very soothing. This can be done with a tight hug, a weighted blanket, or with weighted plush toys! [images of tiger hugging a friend and wearing a weighted blanket]

Sound-cancelling headphones were a game changer for me! They reduce ambient noise, which is handy outside. [image of tiger wearing headphones] Ear plugs help too!

Some find that wearing sunglasses helps with visual overstimulation. Reducing the amount of clutter and simplifying a safe space can help, too! (leather jacket is optional) [image of tiger with sunglasses and a leather jacket]

Distractions are a tactic, too. This could be: -eating a strong-tasting sweet -touching something soft -playing a game on your phone -doing puzzles [image of tiger doing number puzzles]

Image 6: Sensory Overloads (part 2)

[image of tiger thinking] “Mindfulness techniques can ground you if you have nothing to hand. -Name one thing of each color you can see -Pick an item and describe it out loud -Find 5 different textures to touch”

And in the event that you can’t talk, there’s other ways to communicate. There’s phone apps specifically for this, but in a pinch you can text. You can also get cards with messages, use a whiteboard, or hand signs to speak. Like Makaton! [image of tiger holding smart device that reads, “HELLO”]

It’s not uncommon to feel exhausted after a meltdown, sensory overload, or burnout. Please don’t give yourself a hard time if you can’t bounce back right away..! [images of all animal characters previously used helping the tiger deal with their exhaustion]

[Author avatar speaking] “Well, I think that’s all I’ve got for just now! I hope this helps!”

[Author avatar covered in animal characters, who are each a little larger than her hands] “Happy Autism Acceptance Month!” Thanks for [heart] reading! [heart]

Update comic transcription credit: @xteacupx​

[Panel 1 + 2, Tea (the artist) spits out her tea after seeing the response to her comic.The animals from her comic are plushies, and sitting with her.]

A few days ago, I posted my comic for #ASDComicTakeover. (It had tips for fellow autistic adults.) It went well! Lots of people have been asking me about it.

[Panel 3, Tea is gesturing to the segment after. She looks more composed.]

Good news about that! Our Kickstarter got funded within 6 hours! And there's still heaps of time left to back it! (Ends on May 27 2021) I'm getting published again! Woo!

[Panel 4, a yellow book sits on some pastel clouds]

Sensory: Life On The Spectrum Available on Kickstarter. A hardcover book! Beautiful comics about autism! Support over 30 artists! Your name in the book (£5+)! Prints (£25+)! Stickers (£35+)!

[Panel 5, an arrow points to some cute animals who are holding the book and its prints.]

Now you can see these guys in a book!

/end

I decided to create something that I wish I had when I first got diagnosed with autism - so here’s my comic for ASDComicTakeover! You can find out more about the project here!

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