#not adequate for the environment where you work at

[abuadam86]

Emergency: Help save my children's lives

Dear humanity,

I am Habib from Gaza. I am married and have four children: Menna, 12 years old, Adam, 10 years old (suffering from quadriplegia), Maria, 6 years old, and Ezz, one year old. Although they are young, they have survived previous wars, but this current war is the most difficult of all. This is a war of genocide, and the difficulty of the war lies in the inability to meet the needs of my son Adam, who needs special care.

Over the past ten months, we have been caught in the crossfire of the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Our once peaceful home in Khan Yunis has been reduced to rubble, and now we find ourselves displaced in Deir al-Balah, living in squalid conditions in a makeshift tent on the streets. The devastation not only deprived us of our physical shelter, but also destroyed my livelihood - the once thriving business that supported our family's well-being, is now in ruins. The daily struggle for survival is exacerbated by the scarcity of basic necessities such as clean water, adequate sanitation and basic medical supplies

Our home was the place where we found hope and safety, and where we made precious memories. Losing him was like losing years of our lives.

Not only that, they destroyed my source of livelihood, burned it, and demolished it with bulldozers, and today I am without a home and without a job. I was working in a store I owned that met the needs and expenses of my family

Living in tents is miserable. There is a lack of drinking water, hot sun rays, and strange insects that have terrified my children. What hurts me most is my young son Ezz, who I see growing up in an unclean environment and with no healthy food for him. I believe he has not received his right to life.

At this stage, my husband and I decided to go to you and create an account on the Go Fund Me website and ask you to help us in these difficult times until we get out of Gaza, from the land of war to the land of peace. All we need from you is to support us and help us to get out of the war, even if you cannot help. You should spread the word. This campaign is everywhere and among your friends. We thank you for your stance and support for us. Thank you, my friends

The amount that will be collected from this campaign :

We will spend it by paying the amount to coordinate entry through the Rafah land crossing, which connects Gaza to the State of Egypt, since, as I mentioned, they charge an adult $5,000, but depending on the pressures, crises, and waiting, the amount may reach $7,000 per person, and children $2,500 to $4,000.

We will also use it for the rest of the travel and safe transportation expenses to provide for all family members.

A picture of my children's life before the war

A video of my children's lives living the war

May God reward you with all the best and may God bless you

Best wishes with sincere gratitude,

Habib's family

My Instagram account link

My account vetted by:

@dlxxv-vetted-donations

(vetted)

[pubbamoon]

Your The Most Suitable Career Path Based On Your Destiny Matrix Chart

Hello! It's been a while since I've made the last observation here on Tumblr, two weeks I guess. I think it's time to make an observation I promised you to do. So, this post will be about your possible career paths based on your Destiny Matrix chart. I've been thinking about making this kind of observation ever since I've made a post about an ideal partner based on the Destiny Matrix chart. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. I hope you'll enjoy it.

For those who doesn't know, there's a money line in the Destiny Matrix chart right after the love line. It is also formed by three numbers and it represents career, profession, how we can make money etc. The second number from this line, which is the closest to the dollar icon/emoji, is the most important number if you wanna look for your career path. It can represent which career path is the most suitable for you and that kind of stuff.

I'm about to give you an example of that. I marked the adequate number with the black color, which is the number 5 in my case. So, the number close to the dollar icon/emoji is number 5, meaning that I should use characteristics of The Hierophant arcana to maintain my career path. I really hope it's understandable.

Now it's time to describe each number and your possible career path!

1 (The Magician) - The Magician is a powerful card which represents manifestation, having all the knowledge and being the jack of all trades, which makes sense because this card is related to the planet Mercury. So, I think you might be successful in any field you can imagine yourself to be. Number 1 is ruled by the Sun in numerology, meaning that you might be very ambitious in your work environment. A great placement to have an own business or to have many sources of income.

2 (The High Priestess) - A number 2 is being ruled by the Moon, which can mean that you might choose your profession based on your emotions, gut, intuition or instincts. I think that you should do something that you love to do, because if you do something because you have to, it might not be good for your health in general. I can see you as a psychologist, healer, nurturer, nurse and in every field where you help other people. This arcana is ruled by the planet Moon itself.

3 (The Empress) - This card is connected to the planet Venus, which means that you may find success in creative pursuits, negotiating, partnerships, collaborations or expressing your feminine energy in general. Number 3 is ruled by Jupiter which represents luck, expansion and abundance, so you might have an expansive and successful career, but it depends on many other factors. Being a writer, artist, singer, model or having an own business in related fields might bring you success.

4 (The Emperor) - There is a huge leadership energy going on here. Any career where you can be a leader/CEO might be successful to you. Number 4 is ruled by Rahu in Indian numerology (or by Uranus in western numerology) which represents ambition, massive success and fame, while the Emperor itself is related to Aries sign, which explains the leaderships energy I already mentioned. You should use your masculine energy while striving for success, no matter of your gender.

5 (The Hierophant) - Number 5 is ruled by Mercury which represents fields related to communication, writing or teaching. The Hierophant card is associated with Taurus sign, so you might seek for the stable and traditional career path, since this card is related to tradition, spirituality and conformity. I see many of people having this arcana becoming a successful singers, or someone who has an influence over people. Being a lawyer, priest or (spiritual) teacher might also be fulfilling career options for you.

6 (The Lovers) - Number 6 is being ruled by Venus, which means being involved in artistic pursuits in this case. You might also become successful if you use your social and communication skills, since The Lovers card is associated with the Gemini sign. Being a musician or working in publishing, broadcasting on TV and writing might bring you success and money. Working with other people is crucial for you as well.

7 (The Chariot) - This is another ambitious arcana with leadership capabilities. Number 7 is being ruled by Ketu in Indian numerology (or by Neptune in western numerology), making this number very spiritual. But The Chariot card is associated with the Cancer sign, a cardinal sign which is related to movement. You could be a leader in any kind of way, even a spiritualist. Since this card represents victory, it's likely possible that you may succeed in your profession.

8 (Justice) - I always present the Justice as the 8th card, because this number is ruled by Saturn which is about balance and organization, while the Justice card is related to Libra sign. Saturn is exalted in Libra, which makes sense. The first thing that cross to my mind when I think about this arcana is law, so being a lawyer could be the adequate career option for you. I feel that you might be serious-minded in your work environment and work in a field where there has to do with paperwork or contracts. This arcana is giving me a hard-working energy, you might have a sense of working in teams and collaborating in general.

9 (The Hermit) - Your career path might seem to you as lonely or you might do everything by yourself, since this card represents solitude. This card is connected to Virgo sign, meaning that you can use your analytical skills in your career. You can be an economist, a programmer, a chemist, a scientist, an engineer of something or work in fields where you can use your wisdom, which this card is actually about. Number 9 is ruled by Mars in numerology, so you may also be very competitive in your work environment. Take what resonates.

10 (Wheel of Fortune) - I don't really have a point about what you can do with this arcana, I think that you can do almost everything with this arcana if you have it in your money line. This card is associated with Jupiter, which means that you might have a expansive and prosperous career. Seasonal jobs might be a thing for you. Working in entertainment industry could also be your lane. By saying the entertainment industry, I mean working as a singer, actor, entertainer, movie director, producent or even a content creator.

11 (Strength) - Number 11 is considered as the master number in numerology and is related to a higher purpose. This could mean that you might choose a career path where you can help and guide others. You could be a powerful motivational speaker, social worker, life coach or something like that. Since there's an animal in this card, it might mean working with animals, for example, being a vet, or a dog trainer. This card is associated with Leo sign, so you might also work in creative pursuits, entertainment industry or as a babysitter.

12 (The Hanged Man) - Whenever I hear about this arcana, the first thing that comes to my mind is spirituality. This card is ruled by the planet Neptune, which represents spirituality in modern western astrology. Being a psychic medium, a prophet or just a spiritualist might be fulfilling for you. You might work in any field where you can share your wisdom. The problem is that you may tend to sacrifice a lot for your career, since this card is all about sacrifice. The negative side of that could be becoming stuck in your toxic work environment, because in this card, there's a man being trapped and unable to move forward. Be aware if that!

13 (Death) - Your career or profession might transform other people's lives or their own life perspective, since this card is related to Scorpio sign. Being a therapist could be a good career option for you. Working as a funeral director, a forensic scientist where you can investigate the criminal cases or even as an archeologist might also be suitable for you. Even if you do something completely different, that field might be something you are passionate about, 'cause Scorpio is associated with the passion itself.

14 (Temperance) - You might put yourself in a position where you can help and heal others. Working as a doctor, a nurse, a pharmacist, psychologist or a therapist could be very suitable for you. Temperance card is associated with the Sagittarius sign, so you're someone who can teach and guide other people, 'cause Sagittarius is a moral sign which is about looking for the right ways to live a life. You can influence and heal a lot of people with your public presence or with your work.

15 (The Devil) - This is telling me that you might choose a career path which could be very risky. This card is ruled by the Capricorn sign, so you might use the dark side of yourself in order to succeed, since Capricorn is a very dark sign. You could work as a Casino worker, business owner, sex worker, stockbroker, investor, musician, police officer etc. You might yearn to earn money in a fast, maybe even in an unethical ways. I see you choosing a career where you can make a lot of money in general.

16 (The Tower) - This card is all about destructions, extreme ups and downs and spirituality. It's connected to the planet Mars which also represents similar things. You might become successful as a spiritual leader or doing some extreme work, such as firefighter, surgeon, policeman, archeologist etc. It might be hard for you to keep being consistent to your work and you'll never know which obstacle might be next to come to you, 'cause this arcana is about extremes. You might be extremely motivated and productive or extremely tired and unmotivated.

17 (The Star) - Well, I think that the name of this card tells everything. With this placement, you might work in any field where you can express yourself and to stand out from the crowd. This card is related to the Aquarius sign, so you may attract a lot of attention from other people. You can be a singer, musician, actor, model, photograph, graphic designer, content creator or just working in the entertainment industry. This is a very creative placement.

18 (The Moon) - This is another placement which indicate working in creative fields, but you might rather work behind the scene, which kinda makes sense because this arcana represents mystery and illusions. It is associated with the Pisces sign, which is a very idealistic, selfless and creative sign, so you might also work as a musician or an actor. You might also work in a spiritual field, such as tarot readings or selling crystals. I can also see you working as a social worker and as a therapist.

19 (The Sun) - You could work in any field where being at the center of attention is crucial. Putting yourself in a spotlight might be a great option for you. I can see you being an entrepreneur or a performer. Leadership energy is relevant here. I don't know if you are comfortable in putting yourself out there, but if you have this arcana in your money line, then I think you should try it, you can be successful by doing that. This card is ruled by the planet Sun (do I even have to say that?).

20 (Judgement) - I feel that you can work in every field where you can criticize or analyze several topics. This is a great placement of being a lawyer, judge, presenter, music critic etc. This card is associated with the planet Pluto, which represents transformation, so you might change the people's way of thinking with your career. This arcana is also about ancestry and family, meaning that you could work in your family business or as a caregiver.

21 (The World) - This is am obvious indicator of a career path where you can travel all around the world. Being a travel agent or an anthropologist might be significant. This card is related to the planet Saturn which does represent organization and structure, so you might need to be organized in order to become successful in your field. You could also work in a tourism industry as a hotelier. You might connect with a lot of people with your profession by using your open mind in general.

22 (The Fool) - You might use the profession that is very risk-taking and unconventional to societal norms. Mind you that this card is basically ruled by the planet Uranus, which tells a lot. I see so many people with this arcana in their money line who work in the entertainment industry as a singer, actor, comedian or presenter. There could be bunch of field where you might work in, 'cause you cannot bound into one particular category. You might also work as an astrologer, business owner or be a self-employed in general.

Whoa, I finally made this observation until the end! I hope you enjoyed it and that you can resonate with that. If you want to deepen down in your Destiny Matrix chart, then you can book a private reading with me. I've published pre-recorded video readings and one-on-one readings on Zoom. The first three offers of mine are text-related readings (those offers which are categorized as Western Astrology, Vedic Astrology and Matrix of Destiny are text-related). Anyways, I hope you liked this observation. Wish you all had a beautiful week ahead. Bye for now and see you very soon!

Best regards, Paky McGee

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Dorm Heads - Sinbad (MAGI) Male Reader

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Sinbad has seven Djinn Equips and there just so happen to be seven characters in this ask, so I sorted each one to whomever fits it the best. The Reader is still from another world, but this time they're from MAGI as the king of Sindria. I hope this is adequate to what you wanted. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

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🌹 Please have mercy, Riddle doesn't know how to handle flirting at all! Seriously, stop that! Don't corner him against the wall and lean over him like that! Don't hold his chin between your fingers and lift his head that way! Don't whisper in his ear all sensual-like! Are you trying to kill him!? Really; Riddle might just explode if you continue like this, going by the steam that keeps billowing from his ears. He's never been the object of affection of such a handsome man before; it's flattering and overwhelming at the same time.

🌹 You're a king? You!? But you're so irresponsible; with the way you quite literally run from him every time he tries to make you do your homework. Riddle honestly thought you were lying at first but after seeing how diplomatic you were during the unbirthday party, he actually started to believe it. He later witnesses that when you do your work, you stay holed up in your room until it's completed to perfection. Oftentimes, Riddle will go to you for advice on how to be a better leader for the students of Heartslabyul.

🌹 A gift, for him? Riddle is a little flustered, he's not too used to people getting him things out of the kindness of their heart; it's usually fear that marks the occasion. But what did you get him? Show him, he hates surprises— WHAT THE HELL!? Where in the world did you get this!? How much did this cost you!? What do you mean 'it was only half a billion'!? Congratulations, Riddle is now malfunctioning; he's stuck between being flattered that you'd spend that much money on him and being furious that you didn't use it for something more important.

🌹 Excessive jewelry and other accessories are strictly forbidden; such things could become a distraction to yourself and other students! Wait! Those are weapons!? That's even worse! Riddle is losing his mind with you, right now! You can't bring weapons into a school environment, such things are against the law! He'll have to confiscate them. Unfortunately, Riddle's unique magic doesn't seem to work on you for some reason; so his efforts are always in vain.

🌹 Riddle has his first encounter with your Furfur Djinn Equip when you sapped the light out of his bedroom using its magic. From then onwards you used it to annoy him (read as try to make him relax a bit) whenever he's busy for more than four hours. He would say he hates it, but he can't deny that your demonic-looking appearance is very appealing to the eyes; not that he'd tell you. Riddle secretly wants to touch your horns but he's far too prideful to tell you; too bad you've already noticed his fleeting glances.

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"O‐oh, for me? Thats very kind of you, My Rose. W-wait, how much did you say this was? Half a billion! Why would you spend such a ridiculous amount of money!? My face isn't red— No— Listen to what I'm saying!"

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🦁 Oho? You're a flirt I see, Leona can certainly get behind that. It does help that you're one handsome man as well. Do you wanna lay the charms on him? Go right ahead and do your worst if you're brave enough to face this beast of a man. Just be prepared for when Leona decides to flirt back; too bad for you he's not exactly the chivalrous type. This lazy lion prince is ready to give you the most risqué tongue lashing of your life; figuratively and literally if you're down for it.

🦁 Leona could tell that you were royalty of some type just by the way you dressed, but you also had a certain about you that only natural-born leaders have. He completely understands your aversion to work, he feels it too, work sucks man. You once offered Leona to be your queen, since you were already the king, and to rule Sindria by your side; he may or may not be seriously considering it...

🦁 Being the second prince of the Sunset Savana, Leona is certainly no stranger to expensive gifts, so getting him anything expensive doesn't really surprise you too much. You're rich, he's rich, the gift only cost you half a billion— Wait... half a billion? Leona will absolutely give you a look of complete and utter confusion as to why you think half a billion is such a small sum of money. He can see Ruggie in the background salivating...

🦁 So you're telling him that the jewelry you're wearing can be used as a weapon? Sure.... you'll have to sit Leona down and explain to him about Djinn, metal vessels, dungeons and, dungeon capturing. Well... that is if you can convince him to stay awake long enough to let you explain it. Leona has a bunch of z's to catch, so if you don't mind he'll be taking his long overdue nap now.

🦁 Leona has a love-hate relationship with your Valefor Djinn Equip. On the one hand, he appreciates the beastman-like features that appear when it's equipped as well as the clothing style, but do you have to be so damn cold!? Don't get him wrong, Leona loves cuddling with his boyfriend but your skill has a natural chill to it in that form. It's gotten to the point where he'll refuse to touch you until you go back to normal.

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"AAGH! D‐dammit you're cold, let go of m‐me. How am I s'posed to fall asleep if 'm freezing my ass off? Go back to normal 'n I'll hold you as long 'n as tight as you want, kay?"

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🐙 You're flattery will get you absolutely nowhere! At least, that's what Azul wishes was the truth. Ugh! You're so damn suave and so damn fine that it's killing him! How is he supposed to talk you into signing a contract when you're leaning over his desk and looking at him like you'd eat him if Jade and Floyd weren't in the room!? Poor Azul is ready to pull out his hair with how many revisions you've sweet-talked him into making to the contract. He's got a business to run dammit!

🐙 Oho? A king you say? Perhaps if you would take him there, he could give your people an offer they couldn't refuse. Unfortunately for Azul, any plots he had for trapping you or your people in a deal were swiftly shut down by you holding a sword to his throat. He was equal parts terrified, disappointed, understanding and, really turned on. Azul still wants to go to Sindria though; maybe even as one of your vassals representing Twisted Wonderland's Coral Sea if you'd let him.

🐙 You got him a gift? You're not trying to bribe him or anything are you? Azul is definitely no stranger to attempted bribery considering it happens about once or twice per day. But eventually, after a bit of insisting on your part he'll accept it... and then promptly return it because there is no way you would give him something that looks so expensive for anything other than bribery. If you try an calm his nerves by telling Azul that it only cost you half a billion and it really wasn't that expensive; his blood pressure will skyrocket. Dear lord, save this man...

🐙 My, that's quite a bit of jewelry you have there, you wouldn't mind parting with a few items, would you? Now, now, Azul's only asking for a friend, no need to get up in arms about it. The cecaelia mer, being quite observant, did notice that your jewelry and a few weapons are where you get your otherworldly powers from. While Azul would love to have access to that power, since old habits die hard, he still restrains himself because he doesn't want you to distrust or dislike him.

🐙 Azul is very cautious about your Baal Djinn Equip; lightning and water are not too good a combination in this case. However, he admits must you look very dashing and handsome in the clothes and jewelry you wear; he can't help but take a few glances at your bare chest, your draconic features are also very eye-catching to him and he can't help but briefly think of a certain dragon fae. While Azul usually just observes you from a respectable distance; he's not entirely opposed to being in your arms.

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"H‐handsome? Me? I— if this is some kind of joke it's not funny! Y‐you're flattery will get you no nowhere. N‐now if you would just sign here... Hm? Revision? A D‐DATE! Hold on—!"

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🪲 Aww, you're so nice! Kalim doesn't quite understand why you're so fixated on complimenting him, but he really likes it! He definitely returns the favor tenfold; not just to repay you, but also because he thinks you're a very handsome man. Another thing he doesn't get is why Jamil keeps shooting you sharp looks when you give him some of the weirder compliments. But Kalim doesn't mind too much, even when you back him against a wall, he just takes it as an invitation to cling to you.

🪲 Wow! You're royalty too!? And a king no less! Kalim thinks that's so awesome! You should definitely expect a ton of questions about what it's like to rule an entire country. What kind of responsibilities do you have as king? Do you have to make any hard decisions that could impact your people? What kind of holidays do you have there? Can he go there one day? And so on, and so on. Wait! Where are you going? Kalim still has more questions to ask you; you can't leave yet!

🪲 Wow! Did you get him a gift? You're so nice, it looks so cool too! Kalim is absolutely ecstatic to receive anything from you, be it a conversation, a compliment, physical affection, a gift or even a simple hello! Huh? Half a billion Madol? Okay! Kalim will find you something just as expensive and go out of his way to get a job, save up a bunch of money, and buy it for you! He can't let the gift you gave him go unreciprocated!

🪲 You have genies in your jewelry!? That's so cool! Please call them out so that he can meet them all, Kalim has so many questions! Tell him about all of your dungeon-capturing adventures, he'll be entertained for hours on end. Jamil is crying tears of joy. He will also somehow convince your djinn to come out and share the many adventures that they had with you and their previous holders. Expect to have to tell him at least five of your adventures a day, Kalim doesn't care if you run out of them, you're such a good storyteller.

🪲 Poor Kalim was truly in shock when he saw your Zepar Djinn Equip for the very first time. You got so tiny after that huge light show; he was surprised. For him, this Djinn Equip is his favorite because you're basically a really cute living megaphone. Kalim thinks your round belly is really cute; when you're under a blanket you look like you're holding a pumpkin. He's glad to have a mini boyfriend he can carry around like a teddy bear, it's super fun.

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"WAH! You got small! You're so adorable now! Oh; and your ears are so long too! Can you hear better like that? Hey, what can you in this form? Is it like the other one's you've shown me so far?"

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🪞 Flattery will get you everywhere; especially with Vil! However, this pretty boy has definitely heard it all; or at least he thought he had before he met you. No one had ever been quite so bold with him before. You laid your intentions out on the table right off the bat, and frankly, he found that really hot. I mean, who wouldn't want to be swept off their feet by a handsome king such as yourself? You want to make Vil your queen, you say? Oh my, buy him dinner first, you sly devil.~

🪞 A king, you say? Well, Vil did notice that you had a regal air about you, even if it was a bit overshadowed by that boyish charm of yours. But now you've got him thinking about you're proposition to make him your queen. Were you really serious about that? If you are, Vil has a long list of suggestions that he believes would improve your future shared kingdom. So what if he's never been there before, he's got to make some changes now before he walks into what might be a hot mess.

🪞 Now Vil and his family are quite wealthy, nowhere near royalty, but they still have a hefty sum to their name. This means he is no stranger when it comes to expensive clothing, accessories, skincare, and food. He has absolutely no issues with you spending a ridiculous amount of money on a gift for him. Vil just gives you an ecstatic "Oh! You shouldn't have!"

🪞 What a lovely medley of jewelry you've got there, but um... don't you think it's just a tad bit excessive? Not that you don't look absolutely dashing just the way you are, but maybe take off one or two? Vil only wants the best for you and that means fashion-wise as well. They're your weapons as well? Well, weapon or not, Vil will not allow you to walk around with a clashing color scheme! Rose gold is out of season, you know.

🪞 You know how Vil hates Neige because he feels insecure about his appearance when he's around? Yeah... that's how he feels about your Vepar Djinn Equip. He's never seen such ethereal beauty before and it's eating him up inside! He's torn between admiring his handsome boyfriend and cursing you for being more visually appealing than he is. Vil eventually accepts it though, you are his after all, and as long as he has you he can let it slide, just this once.

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"I didn't call you old, listen closer to what I'm saying to you! I said you had a mature look about you; It's a compliment. Not many men can pull it off like you can, so you should be grateful."

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💀 Stop. Seriously, stop. You will actually kill this man if you start flirting with him in any aspect at all. Even a compliment is a death sentence for Idia. But if you really do desire to send him straight to an early grave, do as you wish. This poor man can barely even function around someone as handsome and imposing as you are. Idia can barely breathe around you, his palms are sweaty, his knees weak, not to mention all the blood loss from his ever-flowing nose due to your sparsely clothed chest.

💀 As if Idia needed any more of a reason to feel like he doesn't deserve to even be near you; he finds out you're a King. Why is this happening to him!? No, he can't go with you back to Sindria! Even if Idia really wants to because it sounds a lot like the kingdom from "WIZ - Maze of Sorcery" and its two sequels; "WIZ - Queendom of Sorcery" and "WIZ - Outings of Bob".

💀 You didn't have to buy him anything, you're going to make him feel bad! Idia doesn't need you to spend money on him, not that he doesn't appreciate it, because he really does. A new box set of a ton of animes that were just released on DVD? Well... you were the one who offered so Idia reluctantly says it's fine. W‐wait... d‐did you say... half a b‐billion... Oh! It looks like he fainted!

💀 Do you think— Would you mind if Idia used some of your magic jewelry for a few of his cosplays? He'll take good care of them, he promises! Actually, if you don’t want to lend him anything, could you... cosplay with him? Idia completely understands if you don't want to, I mean who wants to spend time with him anyway? But... the offer is still up if you ever consider it...

💀 After seeing your Crocell Djinn Equip, Idia finally understood why you weren't at all cautious about his hair. He accidentally went on a tangent about how you reminded him of a character from a manga he read once and how you were like his 'irl SSR Secret Quest Reward, Boyfriend', whatever that meant. Sometimes, Idia will ask you to go into your Djinn Equip so that you can play with his hair like that one scene in that Shoujo anime you both watched together.

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

"That's way cool! A mystery boss stage with percentage boost in SSR gear and a companion character too! It's just like 'Last Delusion'! EH!? You've never heard of it!? Come on, I'll show you!"

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

🐲 You're not scared of him? At all? You do know who he is right? Malleus Draconia: strongest mage in the NRC, prefect of the infamous Diasomnia dorm, heir to the throne of the Valley of Thorns? You do? Instead of finding him fear-inducing, you called him... gorgeous? Handsome? A sight for sore eyes? Consider Malleus a very flustered and confused dragon fae. He's used to getting compliments from Lilia and his vassals but from you? He feels like he's melting but in a good way. Well... he thinks so, at least.

🐲 A fellow royal? Oh, you're a king too? I hope you don't mind Malleus asking about the details of how you rule over Sidria because he has a lot of questions. He is also set to be the king of the Valley of Thorns in the future, so he wants to gain as much knowledge concerning ruling a country as possible. Malleus's ears are open; tell him anything and everything. How was Sindria established? How do you handle the punishment of your people who break the laws you set in place? Etcetera...

🐲 Malleus is quite wealthy due to his status as the prince of the Valley of Thorns, so he isn't exactly bothered by the thought of receiving expensive gifts. The price of said gift also doesn't seem to phase him. In fact, just like you, he sees such a sum of money as mere pocket change. Malleus is a dragon as well as exceptionally old, he and his grandmother have amassed quite a mountain of wealth in the many years that they have been alive. Nonetheless, he is very grateful for the gift.

🐲 That's quite the lovely set of jewels you have adorning your body there. Please spare this poor dragon boy, he's struggling to hold back his hoarding instincts. His brain is sounding the alarm bells and all he can think is "big shiny, big shiny, big shiny, bi–". Don't be too alarmed if a wild Malleus in his dragon form or otherwise swoops down and whisks you away. Though you may have to worry about leaving his hoard; it will be very difficult, I can assure you. You may just find yourself back where you started; trapped in Malleus's arms.

🐲 Malleus has seen each and every one of your Djinn Equips and if he had to pick a favorite, it would be your Focalor Djinn Equip, followed closely by your Baal Djinn Equip due to draconic appearance. The reason he favors Focalor's is that he can, instead of taking a moonlit stroll, fly through the night in the arms of his boyfriend without needing to go into his dragon form. Malleus had never been swept off his feet, but now he has, literally.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

"Child of man, these dungeons you speak of; did they perhaps house any gargoyles? I couldn't help but ask, what with all the fantastical creatures and items that you mentioned being within them."

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[stay-with-me--always]

I need to take a moment and do a deep dive on the scene where Katniss sits with Gale after he's been whipped vs the scene where Katniss sits with Peeta as they work on the plant book.

Why these two scenes? These scenes in particular I feel like have a lot of similarities as far as Katniss' narration is concerned. They are both scenes where she is alone with either boy in an unrushed, natural environment where she is capable of really looking at them and noticing them both. and in both scenes she IS actively noticing them. it is important to note though, that the tone of these scenes are pretty different, since Gale's is right after he was whipped, and she's still reeling from her intense day. Even so, the plant book scene with Peeta takes place during a time where Katniss has more reason to be worried about her life/family than ever, so I feel like a direct comparison of these isn't too much of a stretch.

----

The Gale text in question:

"I touch parts of him I have never had cause to touch before. His heavy, dark eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, the line of his nose, the hollow at the base of his neck. I trace the outline of stubble on his jaw and finally work my way to his lips. Soft and full, slightly chapped. His breath warms my chilled skin." (CF, 116)

The biggest thing to note is the detail in which she describes him. Katniss takes her time and touches Gale's face with her hand, taking in his features. and yet, most of the descriptions are very generic and could adequately be attributed to most anyone's face, including Peeta's. Even the lines where she takes a bit more notice 'his heavy, dark eyebrows', 'the outline of the stubble on his jaw' are pretty vague and don't give much detail into her REALLY noticing him. the most detailed part we get is the last line about his lips.

Let's keep all of that in mind while we contrast that to the lines any Everlark fan probably knows by heart - the eyelash scene:

"I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks." (CF, 161)

In the time it took for her to describe Gale's entire face, she only managed to describe Peeta's eyelashes. the level of detail that she notices about Peeta goes far beyond what she sees about Gale, even in a moment where she's really taking the time to look at him. The description she gives about Gale's face really accentuates her feelings towards their relationship - practical, obvious, concise. Whereas the description for Peeta just highlights what shes been thinking about him all along - interesting, perplexing, alluring. It's clear from those paragraphs that she just doesn't see Gale in the same way that she sees Peeta.

These scenes can be analyzed all day, and I've been busy making notes on the way she describes both boys, to be compiled and analyzed once I've gone through all 3 books, but I feel like these two scenes alone give a very good look into Katniss' mind and what she really sees in each of her boys.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 10) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 9k

notes: soo super long part because I wasn't sure of where to cut

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Kaz moved through the next few days mechanically, his mind miles away. He avoided everyone and everything, lost in a haze of thoughts and emotions he couldn't fully process. When Inej asked for some time to think, he agreed without hesitation. He wasn’t ready for those difficult conversations, not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

He obsessed over Y/N’s Instagram, watching her have fun on her cruise while he replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Glimpses of the night they shared haunted him, moments of intimacy and connection that only made the present more unbearable. He counted the days until her return, but every time, he stopped, he asked himself: then what? She had made it clear that things wouldn’t work and that she didn’t want to try.

For two days, she didn’t post anything, and Kaz was losing his mind. At first, he thought she had blocked him. Then, his thoughts spiraled further, leading him to check if the cruise had sunk, his anxiety manifesting in irrational fears.

He was on his couch, watching replays of MasterChef, when his phone buzzed. Frowning, Kaz saw DMs from one of Y/N’s roommates.

‘Hi, I know you and Y/N are not on speaking terms, and I know she’s going to kill me for this, but I have to tell you. Her grandma had a heart attack two days ago and she still hasn’t woken up. Y/N had to come back and she’s been at the hospital since then. She told us she doesn’t want anyone, but we thought maybe you could make her reason better than us.’

He was already on his feet, reaching for his car keys. ‘I’m on my way’ he replied quickly.

‘Can you stop here? We have a bag of her things ready’

Kaz reached Y/N’s house, where her roommates were already outside, waiting for him. One of them handed him a bag.

“There are some clothes, a book she had on her nightstand, and a few other things. Oh, and her glasses,” she explained.

Kaz nodded, taking the bag from her hand.

“She probably hasn’t eaten in days. Can you get her—”

“McDonald’s, yes,” he said confidently, already planning the next steps.

The girl’s face was filled with worry. “Kaz, she has no one else. If anything happens to her grandma, she’s going to lose it badly.”

He nodded again, feeling his heart race.

Outside the hospital, Kaz sent a text to his boss, saying he was taking the week off, and then turned off his phone. He found Y/N sitting on the floor outside her grandma’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw him, red and puffy from crying.

Without a word, Kaz slid down onto the floor next to her, ignoring the protest from his leg. He circled her shoulders with his arm, and she immediately threw herself onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he tried to be the support she desperately needed. 

As she cried, Kaz rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. He wanted to say something comforting, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, he held her, letting his presence speak for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but being there for her, giving her a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour.

As she cried softly against his chest, Kaz's heart ached with the weight of her sorrow. He held her close, feeling her tremble with each sob, his own emotions tumultuous yet contained. His fingers traced comforting circles on her back, a silent gesture of solace amidst the sterile hospital environment.

Hours passed in their embrace, time marked only by the occasional shuffle of nurses outside and the rhythmic beeping of machines in the room. Eventually, y/n's voice broke the silence, a hesitant question cutting through the heaviness of the moment. "Do you want to go in?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaz nodded gently, helping her up from their uncomfortable position on the floor. They moved to the bedside where y/n's grandmother lay, connected to various monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, y/n settled onto the edge of the bed, taking her grandmother's frail hand in hers. Kaz found a seat nearby, uncertain of his role in this deeply personal moment.

"Oh, um, they gave me your glasses," Kaz spoke up awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Didn't know you needed them."

Y/n accepted the glasses with a small smile, sliding them on with a playful comment that briefly lifted the weight in the room. "You look cuter when I can't see," she teased softly, her attempt at levity amid the somber atmosphere.

He chuckled softly, appreciating her effort to lighten the mood even in such circumstances. The afternoon faded into evening, and then night descended, their vigil by her grandmother's side continuing steadfastly. Kaz had no inclination to leave; his presence here, he hoped, offered some measure of comfort to y/n in her time of need.

"Kaz, if you want to go—" y/n began, her voice hesitant.

"I'm staying," he interrupted softly but firmly, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her words carrying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't convey.

After the most uncomfortable sleep of their lives, a doctor awakened them, informing y/n that they were ready to try and wake up her grandmother by disconnecting some of the machines. Slowly, the elderly woman regained consciousness, and both y/n and Kaz released a collective breath of relief.

"Kitty?" Alice's voice was weak yet filled with recognition as she scanned the room for her niece.

"Hi, Grandma. How are you feeling?" y/n gently disentangled herself from Kaz's embrace and moved closer to the bed.

"Light," Alice replied softly, her eyes stopping on Kaz, curiosity evident in her gaze.

“I told you a thousand times not to play poker anymore,” y/n scolded Alice, a mix of exasperation and affection in her tone.

“Oh, Kitty, I was winning. I couldn't back out,” Alice chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood. “You're unbelievable,” y/n shook her head fondly.

“Can we go now? I'm feeling pretty good,” Alice asked hopefully.

Kaz couldn't help but snort at y/n's reaction. “No, we can't. You had a heart attack! You have to stay here.”

“When was the last time you showered?” Alice teased gently.

“That's not relevant,” y/n retorted playfully.

“Who's watering my plants?” Alice asked, genuine concern in her voice.

“Your plants? You almost died!”

“My plants are going to die!” Alice insisted stubbornly.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe you.”

The conversation between Alice and y/n continued, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine concern, leaving Kaz feeling like a spectator in their intimate family dynamic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure of how to contribute to their exchange.

“How much Botox did you get? Your forehead is frozen!” Alice suddenly remarked, shifting her attention to y/n with a teasing tone.

“Sick, right?” y/n tried to furrow her brow to demonstrate, but it remained stubbornly smooth. “It's weird, Kitty,” she scoffed.

Alice turned to Kaz with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you like this look?”

Kaz hesitated, feeling slightly put on the spot. “It's, uh, a bit unsettling.”

"See, Kitty? Even this boy you still haven't introduced thinks it's weird. You just turned 18 for Ghazen's sake,” Alice teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Kaz, caught off guard, took a sip of y/n's vape and nearly choked at the unexpected revelation. “You just what?”

“It was her birthday last month,” Alice explained casually, her tone implying this was no big deal, but her raised eyebrow at Kaz's surprise said otherwise.

“You're a minor?” Kaz turned to y/n, his disbelief palpable.

“Well, not anymore,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly, as if revealing the weather forecast. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Kaz was certain his face mirrored the shock he felt. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He glanced at Alice, then back at y/n, feeling like he was missing something crucial.

"A minor?" Kaz repeated dumbfoundedly, trying to process the information. "And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

Y/n let out a laugh, seeing Kaz's stunned reaction. "Relax, Kaz. I've been legal for a whole month now."

Kaz rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. 

Alice, enjoying the banter, chimed in again. "You look a bit pale, dear."

"Yeah?" Kaz replied in a weirdly high voice, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had been unknowingly involved with someone who had just barely reached adulthood. "I thought... I thought you were older."

Y/n couldn't resist teasing Kaz a little more. With a mischievous smirk, she leaned closer. "Age is just a number, Kaz."

Kaz shook his head, feeling like he had just stepped into a comedy of errors. "I need a moment," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his temples.

Alice, ever the comforting presence, patted his arm sympathetically. "Take your time, boy. You're handling it well," she said with a twinkle in her eye, clearly amused by the situation.

Kaz let out a nervous laugh, his tension palpable. "Age is not just a number if you’re a minor, y/n," he retorted, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "This is serious."

Y/n shrugged casually, her playful smile widening. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Kaz stared at her incredulously, feeling like he had just stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality. "You're asking why?" He shook his head, unable to contain a nervous chuckle.

 Kaz was sure that he was the one about having an heart attack and would need Alice to leave some machines even for him.

The woman exchanged a bewildered glance with y/n, both of them bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“I wish I had a picture of the face you made, love. I didn't just turn 18. Relax,” y/n teased affectionately.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Kaz sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a mixture of amusement and relief.

“Who are you, boy?” Alice redirected her attention to Kaz, extending her hand in greeting.

“He's a friend, Grandma,” y/n answered warmly.

“Kaz Brekker, my pleasure, Miss or, well, Mrs?” Kaz replied politely, shaking Alice's hand in his gloved one.

“Alice is fine,” the woman replied with a gentle smile, studying Kaz's gloves intently.

“Are you cold?” Alice inquired, her concern evident.

“Kind of,” Kaz said, unsure of how to explain the presence of his gloves.

Alice hummed thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Kaz for a moment longer. “Are you eating, kitty?”

“Are you?” y/n interjected playfully, teasing Alice back.

“Come on, Kitty, go to my house, check on the plants, and get a shower. You,” Alice turned towards Kaz, her expression serious yet caring, “convince her.”

Kaz's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Alice's directness. He quickly composed himself. “Yeah, we can go and be back in no time. I'm sure they have to run a few more exams anyway.”

“Fine,” y/n acquiesced reluctantly, glancing at Kaz for reassurance.

Kaz nodded reassuringly, offering her a small smile. 

Reluctantly, they left the hospital, making their way to Alice’s house. The cozy home was exactly as someone would imagine a grandma’s house: a haven of warmth and comfort, filled with knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender.

"Do you want to see her plants?" Y/n asked with a smirk, leading Kaz to a door at the back of the house.

Kaz followed, curious. When Y/n opened the door, he was greeted by rows of lush, green plants. "That's—"

"Marijuana, yes," Y/n finished for him, her smirk widening.

Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's arrest-level marijuana."

Y/n shrugged, laughter bubbling up. "She says she's too old to be put in jail."

They both burst out laughing, the heaviness of the previous days dissolving in their shared amusement. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the absurdity of the situation and the warmth of Alice's eccentricity.

After their laughter subsided, Y/n led Kaz back to the living room. The cozy space invited them to stay a while, and they settled onto the couch. Kaz sank into the soft cushions, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Y/n curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“This place is really something,” Kaz said, looking around at the shelves lined with porcelain figurines and the walls adorned with y/n photos as a child.

Y/n nodded, her eyes following his gaze. 

Kaz glanced down at her, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner and the noise from the street. Kaz felt his eyes grow heavy, the emotional toll of the past days catching up with him.

Y/n seemed to sense his weariness. “You should rest a bit before we head back to the hospital,” she suggested, her voice gentle.

Kaz nodded, too tired to argue. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Y/n shifted, lying down so her head was in his lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Their fight seemed so far away he could even forget it happened.

They stayed like that for a while, dozing off in the quiet comfort of the living room. When Kaz awoke, the sun had shifted, casting a warm glow through the lace curtains. He glanced down at Y/n, who was still asleep, her breathing soft and even. 

Yet, as he watched her, a familiar pang of uncertainty crept in. They were doing it again—blurring lines, complicating their emotions, and confusing themselves more and more. Despite the peace of the moment, he couldn't shake the realization that their relationship was a delicate dance of affection and conflict. The boundaries they tried to establish always seemed to blur, leaving them in a perpetual state of ambiguity.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but they needed to get back to the hospital.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “We should get going.”

She stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Mh?”

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Time to wake up, love.”

Y/n stretched, yawning. “Okay, let’s go.”

They both freshened up quickly, the refreshing showers revitalizing them. Kaz found himself feeling more human, more present. They changed into fresh clothes and made their way back to the hospital.

The drive back was quieter, but the atmosphere between them had lightened considerably. Kaz reached out and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing it gently. The simple touch was reassuring, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave her side.

“How have you been while I was away?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Kaz snorted, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Not good. I’m still a bit embarrassed by the things I told you while we were, you know.”

“Having sex, Kaz, you can say it,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t worry, it was just the moment. I know you don’t mean any of it.”

“Well, not all of it,” he confessed, his voice softer.

Y/n turned to look at him with a small smile while he kept his eyes on the road, one hand caressing her thigh. The comfort and normalcy they felt were unsettling, a painful reminder of what they could have if circumstances were different.

“I like having you around, Y/n,” he added after a while. “I don’t care if you think that we’re going to mess this up. I mean, how could we mess it up more than it already is?”

“You have a girlfriend, Kaz,” she reminded him gently.

“Tell me to break up with her and I will,” he said, surprising even himself with the bold statement.

“It’s not my choice to make, and I still don’t want a relationship,” she said firmly.

He parked the car and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Can we forget this for a while? At least until we’re here,” Kaz said, cupping one of her cheeks and pulling her towards him gently, giving her the space to back away if she wanted. Y/n let him guide her, their lips finally meeting in a tender kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he hummed, satisfied. 

“How did you—?” he began to ask when she suddenly straddled him, her laughter filling the car as she pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the smooth contours of her back.

“Do you want to do it?” she whispered in his ear, moving her hips slowly against him.

“Here?” he asked, not entirely opposed to the idea, though he was taken aback by the bold suggestion.

Before she could answer, a sharp knock on the car window startled them both. “Come on, lovebirds, knock it off,” a security guard said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Kaz turned an interesting shade of red, while Y/n laughed and opened the door, stepping out. “Sorry, got carried away a bit,” she said, batting her eyes at the guard.

“You’d be surprised how many people I have to interrupt. What is this thing with hospitals?” the man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Are you staying there?” he asked Kaz, who was still in the car, trying to gather his composure.

“Yeah, uh, I need—”

“Oh, for Ghezen’s sake, just don’t make me catch you again,” the guard said, walking away while shaking his head.

Kaz got out of the car, joining Y/n. They stood there for a moment, both a little flustered but also amused by the situation. “How can you never get embarrassed?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n chuckled, linking her arm with his. “I get embarrassed, just not for wanting to have sex. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head slightly but smiling.

They settled into Alice’s room, where she immediately put them to work on her crossword puzzles. “Kitty, get down from that poor guy. He’s not going to be able to feel his legs anymore,” Alice commented, noticing Y/n had made herself comfortable on Kaz’s lap.

“It’s fine,” Kaz said, peering over her shoulder at the puzzle.

“So, what’s the deal between you two?” Alice inquired, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“We’re friends, I told you,” Y/n shrugged, her attention shifting to her phone where she was watching TikToks. “Oh, look at how cute this baby is,” she cooed, showing Kaz a video of a giggling infant.

Kaz made a face. “Babies are gross,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from Y/n.

“Friends, huh?” Alice remarked slyly. “And did someone tell you that you’re only friends?”

“Grandma!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Alice said, laughing to herself.

“See? Even she thinks we should try it,” Kaz whispered in Y/n’s ear, leaning back and making her lay more comfortably against his chest.

“Shut up and look at this cat,” Y/n retorted, showing him another TikTok.

Kaz chuckled, the warmth of their playful banter wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Despite the complexities of their relationship, moments like these made everything else fade into the background.

Every now and then, Y/n would shift, adjusting her position on Kaz's lap, and he would wrap his arms around her more securely. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their interactions natural and effortless.

That night, Y/n fell asleep in one of the chairs outside Alice’s room, her head resting uncomfortably against the wall. Kaz, however, was too restless to sleep. The hospital chair dug into his back, and the sterile lights made it impossible to find any real comfort. Around 3 a.m., he noticed movement from Alice’s room and saw her trying to sneak out. He raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

Alice caught his eye and then glanced at her sleeping niece. “Come on, let’s go take some fresh air,” she whispered.

“Alice, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m going. Will you explain to her why you left me alone, or should I?” Alice shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz sighed. Was being annoyingly stubborn a genetic trait? He stood up and followed her as they made their way to a door that led to a balcony. “It’s locked,” Kaz commented, testing the handle.

“Then open it, boy,” Alice sighed, clearly unimpressed.

Kaz debated whether to comply, but he realized she’d probably find another way to escape. Better to accompany her than let her wander off alone. He quickly picked the lock, and they stepped outside into the cool night air.

“I saw you kissing earlier,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um,” Kaz stammered, caught off guard.

“You know, Kitty is really good at telling lies—especially to herself,” Alice remarked, her voice softening. “It’s complicated,” he whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Where’s the fun if it’s not?” she replied, studying him intently. “Are you in love with her?”

Kaz hesitated, the unexpected question throwing him off balance. He struggled to find the right words.

“She’s going to get scared and push you away,” Alice continued, sensing his turmoil.

“She already did,” he admitted. “We weren’t talking to each other before I got here.”

Kaz thought about the past few days, his phone having been off since he arrived. Inej and Jesper were probably worried sick. For a moment, he was tempted to turn it on, but he knew that doing so would mean facing a barrage of messages and difficult conversations. What was one more day?

Alice sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. “You know, life is too short to waste on complications. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, no matter how scary it is.”

Kaz nodded, her words resonating deeply within him. He looked out at the city lights, the quiet hum of the hospital a soothing backdrop to his chaotic thoughts. “You should say that to her too.”

Alice smiled gently. “You have to be honest with yourself first. Can you accept her job?”

The million-kruge-question. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He hesitated, then decided to ask, “How did you accept it?”

Alice chuckled softly, reminiscing. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Nearly gave me a heart attack when she told me about her decision. But she’s comfortable with it, assures me that she’s safe, and she sends me her check-ups every month.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice’s candidness. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Oh yeah, she always uses protection.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself internally. Why would he say something like that to her grandma?

Alice raised a brow, her amusement evident. “And how do you know that, boy?”

Kaz cleared his throat, attempting to sound convincing. “She… told me.”

The woman chuckled, clearly not believing him. “If you want her, don’t let her take control. Steer her your way, guide her to you, small steps. Don’t ask her to make a decision suddenly, she’s going to run away.”

Kaz nodded, absorbing her advice. He stared at the view, the city lights blurring as his mind raced. Alice's words swirled in his head, mingling with his fears and hopes. Here he was, taking relationship advice from Y/n’s grandmother, while still technically in a relationship himself. 

They stood in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Alice patted his arm. “Remember, Kaz. Patience and persistence. If you truly care for her, show her that you’re willing to be there, no matter how complicated things get.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him. “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out suddenly, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Alice didn’t seem perturbed by his confession. She regarded him calmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “And Y/n doesn’t want a serious relationship,” he added hastily, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain, which was screaming at him to shut up.

Alice remained composed, her expression unchanged. She took a moment before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. “Feelings evolve, circumstances change,” she said, her words carrying the weight of experience. “If it’s meant to be, then it will be. If it’s not, then it won’t. Don’t force things, with neither of them.”

Kaz nodded slowly, grateful for Alice’s wisdom even as he struggled to reconcile his emotions. Her words echoed the doubts and fears he had been grappling with—about relationships, about his own desires, about the uncertainties of the future.

“Trust in the journey, Kaz,” Alice continued, her tone reassuring. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is allow things to unfold naturally, without trying to control the outcome.”

Kaz took a deep breath, absorbing her advice. It was both comforting and challenging—to relinquish control, to trust in the unknown. But he knew deep down that Alice was right. He couldn’t force Y/n into something she wasn’t ready for, and he couldn’t ignore the truth of his own heart.

“Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

Back in the waiting room, Y/n was still asleep, curled up in the chair. Kaz carefully adjusted her position, ensuring she was comfortable. Alice gave him a knowing look before settling back into her bed.

Days went by, and they spent them in a routine that became surprisingly comforting. They moved between Alice’s room, her house, and the hospital cafeteria, finding solace in each other’s company amidst the uncertainty. Alice underwent various exams, and while they waited, Kaz and Y/n often found themselves outside in the uncomfortable chairs, trying to pass the time.

One afternoon, Y/n was engrossed in one of her fairy porn books, the kind that always made Kaz raise an eyebrow. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you read these things?”

Y/n glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s fun.”

Kaz shook his head, feigning disbelief. “It’s weird.”

“Then don’t read them,” she retorted, turning a page.

“I want to know how it ends,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She turned to him with a smile, the playful banter lightening the heavy atmosphere. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to bridge the small gap between them, but he hesitated, the complexities of their situation weighing on him. Before he could second-guess himself further, Y/n leaned in and left a small, soft kiss on his lips, then casually went back to her book as if nothing had happened.

Kaz’s heart raced, the simple gesture leaving him both elated and confused. The kiss was brief but charged with unspoken emotion, a silent acknowledgment of their growing bond. He watched her for a moment, her focus seemingly back on her book, but he knew she felt it too—the undeniable connection between them.

They continued to spend their days like this, finding comfort in their shared moments despite the complications looming over them. Kaz couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with Y/n, how her presence made the hospital’s sterile environment feel almost homely. They laughed together, shared meals, and sometimes just sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet deeply aware of the other’s presence.

***

Finally, Alice was cleared to go home. Despite their protests, she insisted on calling a friend to take her, wanting to give Kaz and Y/n some space. As she left, she gave them a knowing smile and a gentle reminder to cherish their time together.

Kaz and Y/n were sitting in his car, the engine idling softly. Kaz had only one thing on his mind, the thought he had been forcing himself to ignore for days: Now what?

“I still have a few days off work,” he said, glancing at her and waiting for her reaction.

“So?” she replied, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Yeah, he thought, so?

He started driving, letting her put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the car, creating a comfortable backdrop to their thoughts. Every now and then, Y/n would lean towards him to let him take a drag from her vape, the small, intimate gesture deepening their silent connection.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a while, looking around curiously as the scenery shifted from urban to suburban.

“Supermarket,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why?” she laughed, surprised by the sudden change in plans.

“You’re making dinner,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Am I now?” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Yep,” he affirmed, his tone light but his eyes serious.

They arrived at the supermarket, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the parking lot. Inside, they wandered through the aisles, the mundane task of grocery shopping feeling strangely intimate. Kaz watched as Y/n picked out ingredients, her movements confident and assured. He found himself drawn to her even more, captivated by the ease with which she moved through life, her independence and strength shining through in these simple moments.

“Please, Kaz, let me do it,” Y/n kept begging in his ear, her tone a mix of playful and insistent. She nipped at his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.

“I don’t want to,” he laughed nervously, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to touch her.

“Come on, I swear I’m really good,” she teased, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made his pulse quicken.

“I have absolutely no doubts about that,” he responded, his voice a little breathless. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Y/n got on her knees in front of him while he was seated on the couch, her eyes wide and pleading. The sight of her there, looking up at him with such intensity, made his heart race. “Please.”

“You’re not ashamed of anything, are you?” he asked, half in awe, half in disbelief. He could barely comprehend her boldness, so different from the guarded world he was used to.

“Absolutely not,” she replied confidently. Her hands rested lightly on his knees, her touch sending electric sparks through his body.

Kaz made a crooked smile, giving in just a little, pulling her back up on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I prefer you up here,” he murmured against her lips, his hands tracing the curve of her back, memorizing every contour.

“Only because you don’t know how good I am down there,” she said playfully, arching her neck to give him better access for a kiss. Her lips met his with a softness that made him forget everything else, the world outside their bubble disappearing.

Her words lingered in his mind, tempting and daring him to let go of his reservations. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if afraid she might vanish. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly.

For a moment, all he could think about was her – the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her breath mingling with his. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to remember the complications and the consequences, but he silenced it, letting himself get lost in the moment.

The sudden sound of the door opening shattered their intimacy. They barely had time to react before Jesper burst in, anger and worry evident in his voice. “Kaz! Where the fuck have you been?”

Kaz and Y/n froze, their faces reflecting the guilt of being caught so red-handed. They knew there was no point in trying to move away from each other. Jesper’s eyes widened further as he registered her presence in Kaz's living room, his shock palpable. “Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted out, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You disappeared for fucking days! I can’t believe you’re with her,” Jesper said in disbelief. “Inej is worried sick, Kaz, and so was I.”

Y/n moved off Kaz’s lap, letting him stand up. Kaz faced Jesper, trying to maintain his composure. “I was in Lij. I had a family thing to fix,” he said confidently. “I just got back.”

Jesper shook his head, incredulous. “And the first person you tell is obviously her? Not your friends, not your girlfriend?” he shot back, his voice dripping with accusation. He glanced between Kaz and Y/n, confusion etched on his face.

Kaz hesitated, caught off guard by Jesper’s directness. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under Jesper’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to explain her presence without making matters worse.

“I…” Kaz started, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexities of their situation.

Jesper’s frustration grew, his disbelief evident. “You were just what? Kaz, what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his tone cutting through the tense silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried, and I haven’t talked to Inej in days. She asked for space, and I gave it to her,” Kaz explained, though it was clear Jesper wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I can go if you have to talk,” Y/n offered gently, trying to defuse the situation. Jesper glared at her, but Kaz spoke first, “No, don’t worry.”

“Of course, Y/n, don’t worry. So as soon as I leave, he can keep cheating on his girlfriend,” Jesper said harshly. “Or wasn’t that what I just interrupted? Are you sleeping together?”

“No, Jesper. It was… just a kiss,” Kaz lied, his voice strained.

“Oh, then everything is alright, just a kiss. Where’s the line, Kaz?” Jesper’s sarcasm was palpable.

“It’s none of your business, Jes,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“It is if you’re hurting my friend.”

Kaz inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “You want to know what happened with Inej?” he asked, releasing a nervous chuckle. “She said that she was with me because she thought I would never be able to touch her.”

Jesper’s surprise was evident, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Yeah, I bet she didn’t tell you that,” Kaz said more quietly, shaking his head.

“That’s fucked up, but it still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on her,” Jesper retorted, though his voice was less confident now.

“I’m not even sure if we’re still together anymore,” Kaz confessed.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kaz, but you can’t behave like this,” Jesper said, his tone softening.

“I need a drink,” Kaz sighed, moving towards the kitchen. He made three drinks and brought them back, handing one to Jesper and another to Y/n.

The three of them sat uncomfortably on the couch, sipping their drinks in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved tension, each sip of their drinks punctuated by the awkwardness that filled the room. Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/n, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He couldn’t help but notice how she had curled up next to Kaz, her body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence despite the situation. Kaz, for his part, seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

Y/n shifted slightly, feeling Jesper’s gaze on her. 

“Oh, you have a lash on your cheek,” Y/n said, her voice a tentative attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung around them. She reached out, her touch gentle as she plucked the lash away from Kaz’s cheek. “Make a wish,” she instructed softly, holding it delicately on her fingertip.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips despite the tension in the room. “Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t,” Y/n insisted, a small smile tugging at her own lips.

He leaned in unexpectedly, catching her off guard by biting her finger lightly instead of making a wish. Y/n let out a surprised laugh, pulling her hand back instinctively. Kaz’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her close against his side, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about their connection.

Jesper watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process the dynamics unfolding before him. Despite the tension and the serious conversation that had preceded this moment, Kaz and Y/n seemed to share a natural ease with each other, a comfort that was palpable even in the midst of their turmoil.

“That was uncalled for,” Y/n chuckled, trying to regain her composure after Kaz’s unexpected move. 

Her phone started buzzing, and she excused herself to another room to take the call. Jesper watched her leave before turning back to Kaz.

“You know what really makes me mad?” Jesper asked, breaking the silence. “It’s that you two look really good together.”

Kaz nodded, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips. Despite everything, he knew there wasn’t going to be a ‘them.’

Kaz sighed heavily, he knew there was no hiding it now, not after Jesper had caught them in such compromising proximity.

“Give her a chance, Jes,” Kaz pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and earnestness. “Me and Inej… I won’t be able to patch things up after what she told me.” His words trailed off, the pain of Inej’s revelation still fresh in his mind. “And Y/n is not the one to blame,” he added quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was the one in a relationship, not her.”

Jesper’s expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation. “I don't like her.”

“You don't like her or you don't like how I handled things?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with a desperate need for clarity.

Jesper looked at him, the tension between them palpable. “Yeah, maybe I don't like you,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide the seriousness in his tone. “But in all honesty, Kaz, it's more about how you handled things. You should have been honest with Inej from the start.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting the inner turmoil he felt. “I know, Jes. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I have no idea of when the things started to become different.”

Jesper sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “It’s always complicated with you, Kaz. But this...this is different.”

Kaz looked up, meeting Jesper’s gaze with a mixture of determination and guilt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Jes. Inej...what she told me. I was wrong to let things go this far without addressing it.”

Jesper’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration remained. “You owe it to both of them to be honest about your feelings and your intentions.”

Kaz nodded, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ramifications of his actions. “I know, and I will. But Y/n...she’s not just a fling, Jes. She means something to me.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, you’re saying you have feelings for her?”

Kaz hesitated, the admission feeling heavier than he anticipated. “Yes, I do. But I also know that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. It’s complicated.”

Jesper shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and resignation on his face. “Complicated seems to be your specialty, Kaz. But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep stringing them along, it’s not fair to anyone.”

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper’s words settling heavily on him. “I know. I need to talk to Inej and figure out where we stand.”

Jesper nodded, his expression still stern but softened by a hint of empathy. “Good. Because if you care about them, you owe it to them to be truthful. And to yourself too.”

Kaz looked at Jesper, gratitude and guilt mingling in his eyes. “Thanks, Jes. I appreciate it.”

Jesper nodded, his tension easing slightly. “Just...don’t make a habit of this, Kaz. You’re a smart guy, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.”

Kaz chuckled, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “You’re not wrong about that.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Kaz knew he had a long road ahead to make things right, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through the mess he had created.

After Jesper left, the air in the room felt thick with the residue of their intense conversation. Kaz and Y/n settled back on the couch, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Kaz, if you want me to go,” she began, her eyes searching his, filled with concern and uncertainty.

“Stay,” he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Can we go to bed? I'm starting to feel all those nights on the hospital chairs,” she sighed, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn.

Kaz nodded, and they made their way to his bedroom. The act of changing clothes and sliding into bed felt almost ritualistic, a comforting routine in the midst of their emotional chaos. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the intimacy of the moment both soothing and unsettling.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Y/n said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything interesting?” Kaz asked, his fingers tracing small patterns on the sheet between them.

“Nah,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

Kaz pulled her closer, the need for physical closeness overpowering his usual reluctance. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him in the moment.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture.

“Overwhelmed,” he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the comfort she offered.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“Can you break up with my girlfriend?” he chuckled dryly, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

Y/n hesitated, the gravity of his statement sinking in. “You’ve decided to do it?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yes, I have to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of determination and regret. “It's the only way to move forward. I can’t keep living like this, hurting everyone involved.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his decision. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” Kaz replied, his voice firm. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

They lay in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the soft sound of their breathing. Kaz’s mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Inej, how to explain everything without causing more pain. He knew it would be a delicate conversation, one fraught with emotion and complexity. But he also knew it was necessary.

“And then what?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

“You know what I want,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

“I can’t give you that right now,” she said softly, her gaze steady but tinged with regret.

“I’ll take what you can,” Kaz replied, his tone resolute. 

“It’s not fair, Kaz.”

“You told me you’re not a nice person,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to start now?”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words. 

“I tried to have the perfect relationship,” he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. “It blew up in my face. So whatever mess you’re down for, I’m in.”

She looked at him, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. The Kaz she knew was always calculating, always had a plan. But here he was, laying his heart bare, willing to dive into the unknown with her.

“Kaz, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “And I don’t want to hurt you. But we’re already in this. We can’t pretend it’s not happening.”

Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The logical part of her knew he was right, but her emotions were a tangled web of fear, desire, and uncertainty.

“No expectations, no promises.” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. 

Kaz nodded, his expression softening.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dark of the room. The enormity of the decisions they were making weighed heavily on them. Despite the gravity of their situation, the warmth of their closeness offered a fleeting sense of peace.

y/n kept shifting, pressing her back on his chest, restless. “Fuck, I was so horny. Damn Jesper,” she whispered, annoyance tinging her voice.

Kaz snorted, grateful for the lightness she brought into the moment. “Yeah, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our evening.”

“Mh, let me hear what you were thinking about,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “Well, for starters, I didn’t plan on being interrupted,” he said, his voice low and intimate. 

“Go on,” she encouraged, her interest piqued.

“I imagined us taking our time. Maybe having a few drinks, and then...” he trailed off, his eyes darkening with desire as he recalled the thoughts that had been running through his mind.

“And then?” she prompted, her breath hitching slightly as his words stirred something deep within her.

“And then, we’d end up back here,” he continued, his voice husky. “But instead of talking about all this heavy stuff, we’d be... exploring each other. Slowly, thoroughly.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, pressing more into him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Kaz chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep now?” she protested, a playful whine in her voice.

Kaz's chuckle deepened, his breath warm against her skin. “Well, maybe there’s something we could do,” he suggested, his hips pressing on her ass. Y/n shivered at his touch, her body responding eagerly to his nearness.

“I like it when you’re not shy,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

“It’s all your fault. You make me forget how to think,” he said between kisses on her neck. His hand made its way between her legs, eliciting a soft moan from her. “How can you be so wet?” he hummed in satisfaction.

“I like dirty talking,” she admitted, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her.

“I barely said anything,” he laughed, clearly pleased with her response.

“I like you telling me finally what you want,” she clarified, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He started moving his hand and his hips, slowly teasing her, building the tension. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” she said after a while, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. “The answer is no.”

Kaz hummed, clearly annoyed. “But it would be so easy to just slip it in,” he murmured, his voice low and tempting.

“Look at you, having sex twice and already asking to do it without protection. You’re such a man,” she said with a small laugh, though her own need was evident.

“You’re on birth control,” he whined weakly, his voice almost a plea. “Please, love.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “I just want to feel you, all of you.”

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering but not yet broken. “Kaz,-” She arched her back, a soft hum escaping her lips. The way he moved against her, the feel of his fingers inside her, was making it hard to refuse. 

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. 

“Begging, Kaz? Really?” Her tone teasing.

“You'll make me shameless as you are, I don’t care about anything else right now. Please, just this once. Let me have all of you.”

“Fine,” she finally whispered, her resolve melting away.

Kaz didn't need any further encouragement. He shifted, aligning himself with her, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and intimate. They moved together in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender.

Her moans were mingling with his groans. The intensity of their passion was almost too much to bear, every touch, every kiss, driving them closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Kaz breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. His voice was ragged, filled with raw desire.

“Baby, let me lay on my stomach,” Y/n urged, her body arching against his in anticipation. She moved to change positions, her eyes locking onto his. “Do you want it sweet or rough?” she asked with a grin, her tone playful yet seductive.

Kaz stood puzzled by the question, the familiar embarrassment regarding his inexperience creeping in. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Sweet it is,” she decided, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his tension. She lay down, raising her hips invitingly. “Come here, lay on me,” she encouraged, her voice soft and reassuring.

Kaz followed her lead, positioning himself over her, his body pressing against hers. Y/n guided his hand to her lower abdomen, her touch gentle yet firm. “Now take this hand, and press here,” she instructed, her voice a mix of authority and affection.

He did as she said, pressing his hand where she indicated, feeling the tautness of her muscles beneath his palm. “Move,” she instructed him, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Kaz began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. He could feel himself going deeper, the pressure of his hand adding a new dimension to their intimacy. The feeling of being so connected, of feeling himself under his hand, was almost too much to bear.

Kaz hissed against her hair, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, I’m not going to last, love,” he admitted, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. “Just let go.”

Encouraged by her words, Kaz allowed himself to lose control, his movements becoming more urgent. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, his desire to be as close as possible. Y/n’s soft moans spurred him on, her body responding to his every touch.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, the world outside their embrace fading away. It was just them, lost in the rhythm of their shared pleasure. Kaz’s hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, grounding him in the here and now, his other hand tangled in her hair.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I'm so close”

“Let go, Kaz,” she urged, her own voice tinged with urgency.

With a final thrust, Kaz obeyed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He buried his face in her hair, his body trembling with the force of his climax, her own pleasure evident in the way she tightened around him, her breathy moans music to his ears.

They lay like that for a while, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The enormity of their connection, the intensity of their shared experience, left them both breathless and satisfied.

As they slowly came down from their high, Kaz pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. Y/n shifted to look at him, her eyes soft and filled with affection, studying his face. There was a tenderness in her gaze, a silent communication that passed between them.

“Don’t say it, Kaz. It’s not true,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

He sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Was it so evident?”

“Yes,” she replied with a soft smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his burgeoning feelings and the reality of their situation. 

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. The vulnerability he felt in her presence was both terrifying and liberating. She had a way of seeing through his walls, of touching the parts of him he kept hidden from the world.

“Are you going to be able to sleep now?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. Her body fit perfectly against his, a warm and reassuring presence. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

Kaz wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. The comfort of her weight against him, the softness of her skin, it all felt so right. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! Thanks for being willing to create a blog like this; it’s incredibly generous of you.

I think my question may be somewhat niche—I’ve looked through your lessons and multiple other sources and haven’t found an answer to it, although I certainly apologize if it’s been answered and I somehow missed it.

Is there a recommendation for describing an Afro when writing in a fantasy setting where words based on Earth place names wouldn’t linguistically exist? E.g., I’m avoiding obvious place-based words like china plates, balkanization, etc. Should “Afro” be similarly avoided in a world where the place name Africa (as well as Europe, America, etc) doesn’t exist? Or would it be better to use it anyway even if it’s somewhat inconsistent with the style of the work? Finally, if it’s better for a writer not to use “Afro,” how would you recommend describing that style so that the reader can picture the character accurately? I.e., is “natural style” an adequate substitute? It seems a little too broad, but maybe with some more descriptors?

Hi! It's been discussed before, but I don't have like a "set list" of how to describe our hair. Honestly- and this is to everyone, not just to you, anon- the reason I usually don't answer this question directly is my intention to get you all to get creative, and practice how to visualize Black hair textures! When I learned how to write about White people, I didn't have a list to refer to or someone to directly and comfortably ask about what you looked like. I learned from reading stories featuring white characters, and all the creative ways authors described their hair "glistening like sunlight", "red as fire", "silken tresses", "platinum like coins", and all that. I had to look at all of you lmao.

I'm constantly pushing for everyone to read works with Black characters by Black authors to see how we describe ourselves, because we use the same process of thought that you use to describe yourselves- we find the shape, the textures, the style, and we compare them to the world around us. There are many ways to describe similar things. So I can come up with a list, and I know writingwithcolor has one as well, but I do want to clarify that I expect y'all to also take that next step of reading works by Black authors to better learn.

That said! No, you're right, "natural style" is not adequate on its own, because many many hairstyles can fall under that description than just afro. If you don't want to use afro, because I understand what you mean, why not describe the specific texture? Is your character's hair 4C? Try "coils". Are they shiny from moisturizer? Sleek coils, like springs. Is it combed out? It's like a cloud, or a soft sponge. Do they have long hair? It defies gravity, curls rising to the sky. Is it raining on them? Their hair will be weighed down from the moisture, more defined. The descriptions will change based on the environment and texture as well, so you can look up pictures for reference.

[osakanone]

"How realistic are mecha, really?": They aren't, but not for the reason you're thinking of or the one adjacent to it. Trust me.

Crossposted from reddit, since people seemed to like it. Like in the thread, I am very happy to answer questions about any esoteric weirdness.

Hold my beer. Again

They're not becoming a possibility. Yes. I know. This sucks. But stick around. Its not for the reasons you think. Well it is, but it also isn't. You'll see.

The robot needs the technology more than the technology needs a robot.

the technologies which the robot needs will improve and alter the doctrine of every other platform

This creates a doctrinal lock-in where the potential functional space for them to exist is unmet -- that they are so far ahead, that nothing new can emerge that isn't just other platforms becoming more generalized (eg, a post-stall recovery aircraft, or a helicopter with high impact landing-gear and a rigid rotor/jet engine design to act as a surface-fighter -- a tank which walks or manoeuvres like a robot is just flat out of the question: Tanks are made to be simple-as-fuck boxes which tank hits, and shoot and acquire asap and rumours of their deaths as a doctrinal weapon are exaggerated by recent events where obsolete weapons which aren't maintained properly who's crews aren't adequately trained were fighting very clever civilians with drones)

What you consider "realistic" (5th/6th) is just as if not more unrealistic than other gens purely because of their smaller size and very bizarre relationship with the environment -- they're just both too big, and too small to make sense, sitting in a size niche which is just very weird

If such a vehicle does exist, its going to be defined by its functions rather than a humanoid appearance

we know this because specialized platforms tend to beat specialized platforms historically until specialized platforms mature and become generalized

thus, the closest you're probably going to get is some weird variation of DARPA's Ground X Vehicle Project meeting with Gravity Industry' style mobility in limited cases, hybridized with smaller robots and wingsuits, which mix manoeuvring operation styles, with some rocker-boogie mechanism elements for terrain handling: It won't be humanoid, whatever it is.

This is assuming you can magically solve the square-cube law of volume-mass which is partially negatable with certain custom topologies exceeding graphene but actually manufacturing them would be miserable work probably not even be something you can make without microgravity

Energy flat out isn't solvable with what we know about right now. Nothing with that energy density can exist that isn't going to simultaneously make for an incredible fragile, dangerous and problematic source of power given the forces involved. Cooling is also a horrifyingly unsolvable problem on this scale, as is radiation management: You can't just dump molten tungsten in emergency cooling mode - you'll not only proceed to alert everybody who has even the vaguest IRST capacity to your position, but you'll also probably set fire to the environment and cook off your own ammunition. *

Motors aren't well suited to the tasks of such bodies (its like trying to make a slingshot out of dental floss), and we don't have an effective way to turn electricity into a form of motion which corresponds with the shock absorbing and motion control qualities which are actually desirable yet

Even if we did, the actual means of ensuring it doesn't fragment every time it moves don't exist. Every time an A10C fires its main gun, the fuel lines micro-fracture and have to be replaced after it lands. Metal, when you subject it to high physical forces ends up feeling and behaving closer to how you would think of glass. You'd need a material capable of repairing itself too, atop the quasicrystalline property which again, just isn't doable, let alone simultaneously.

So in terms of our mindset going into this?

Its... Probably not happening barring a very, VERY extreme change to how we understand physics to function, or some really kick ass (and actually entirely possible) changes in how engineering achieves outcomes (which could happen if the greatest threat to the mecha didn't exist)

Combat is moving towards information dominance. 

That's drone swarms, and role modularized long range travel, and the idea of fighter beyond-visual-range combat extending out to infared search and track systems which are networked to one another, which we're already seeing in singleton weapons and their mounting strategies even on the personal scale, which DARPA is currently investigating which everybody wants to mate with the gravity industries gear for boarding ops so the most likely avenue is to scale up from people, rather than scale down from vehicles as the development pathway -- but there's probably going to be multiple pathways with competing niches once the technology becomes cheap enough.

Costing

Ultimately its down to "how much money do I have to spend to defeat something more expensive than myself?" -- because our current structure of war is defined by cost, and by making the other guys surrender by using economic, and military violence (private, and publicly funded) instead of convincing them that we (NATO members, etc) have good opinions purely because of the natural benefits of "doing as we say" (which we see with basically any conflict in the last 70 years, which are usually feigned as ideological but pretty much always about disrupting market competition, dominating markets, or controlling a pressure position in another country to achieve those two things).

This isn't because they're particularly excellent weapons, but because they're cheap relative to the strength they offer, and how we define cheap is very different to how we defined cheap 100 years ago -- both in good, and terrible ways (such is the way of history).

Mecha are kinda the ultimate boondoggle. They are very very expensive, and just don't make sense.

They're cool as hell, yes.

But they don't make sense.

DISCLAIMER: If you're prone to depression, are dealing with a lot right now, or don't want your day ruining, you should stop reading NOW. What comes next is a psychosocial hazard and could be very bad for your mental health. LAST CHANCE . . .

The "real" reasons

If conflict some how became a meritocracy of leading by excellence rather than intimidation, and about human outcomes instead of cost outcomes, then things could change, but we don't live in that world.

Remember, violence exists to end human conflict (not to be confused with military conflict, which violence is the primary instrument of): Human conflict is when two parties oppose one another and communicate about what their goals and intentions are. Violence happens when communication stops. Communication stops, because parties cannot come to terms, or because nobody wants to be reasonable because the inherent request is unreasonable to the interests of the other party.

I'd love to say physics is the greatest threat, or maybe our concept of conflict but its not: * Its economics.

The concept of private-equity (not to be confused with venture-capital investment) is kiiiind of the dominant economic system on the face of the planet which dictates the interest of every nuclear power's actions against every non-nuclear power) is functionally dissolved, and investment models as we know them magically become better regulated OR a better economic system comes along which totally undermines private equity.

Its an economic finger-trap where most of the money that would be reinvested into people and technologies to push the world forward ends up getting swallowed up.

It also has private armies) and simulates the economy and political events in order to control them for maximum profitability. Yeah.)

We already live in Armored Core, folks.

And that economic system knows that if it gave free agents like ravens any kind of military power, it would functionally undermine itself, which is why it will never happen.

Private equity benefits from not having technology change, because its primary goal is wealth extraction. It leads to the collapse of every business you've ever seen go under, its why products undergo enshittification, which is coming for everything.

Its why the housing crisis happened, why the banking collapse happened, and its why there's an incentive to continue industrializing diseases like insulin instead of curing them.

tl;dr:

The one thing AC gets super wrong is you can either have the depressing relatable low-saturation late-stage hyper-capitalist dystopia where life is cheap on planet earth and everything terrible about South Korea times a thousand covers the whole world, and you need to have your own organs brought from you and leased back to you to lock you in to a lifetime of debt the same way everything else works...

OR

you can have the robot;

You can't have both.

e: I'd pick the robot any day

--

Apologies for any inaccuracies, I haven't edited this and I threw the original together in the space of around 40 minutes. Questions very welcome: I enjoy giving long detailed and substantiated answers.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reading my other work on the theoretical design factors of mecha, their control systems, and my fictional writing in mechposting.

[adore-laur]

DADRRY: PART THREE

— part one | part two

October — Flashback

The leaves from the oak and cottonwood trees are changing color at last. Their shades of varietal greens bleed into marigold and maroon ones to commence autumn in California. The weather is more than adequate when it nears the end of the year, with days never below seventy degrees. Brisk winds blow by the ocean, and migrating clusters of monarch butterflies flood orange milkweed with their stained-glass wings, looking similar to the plants they flutter around.

Driving alongside the premature sunset, you press on the brakes and pull into the crowded parking lot of the restaurant. Harry has been setting up and bartending for a wedding's cocktail hour, which he seldom does under his title as head chef. He mentioned before he left that he wanted to talk to you about something important after his shift, so he reserved a table in the dining area where both of you could eat dinner and discuss it. Luckily, he doesn't have to work his way into the early morning since someone will replace him once the reception officially starts.

It's Harry's last shift before he's home for an extended period of time. He managed to save all of his annual vacation days and is free from work for the last month of your pregnancy, as well as the twelve weeks of paternity leave he's allowed once the baby is born. That means four months to adjust to a new reality.

It's difficult to imagine how much convincing it took and the scheduling difficulties he had to come across to get everything sorted out. You're worried the restaurant will crumble without his supervision, but you shouldn't judge his expertise on the matter. He knows what he's doing.

You stroll through the front doors while smoothing the chiffon fabric of your dress that flows over your bump. You have been frequently wearing Harry's shirts ever since your stomach has gotten too large to wear your own, but you wanted to look nice for yourself tonight. It has been grueling trying to accept your changing body, which is why you strive to do little things to take care of your mental state. And even though you've been more concerned about your physical state lately, if something as simple as putting on a pretty dress will boost your confidence, you'll take advantage of the opportunity.

Carefully weaving through the decorated tables, you peer at the bar area built against the farthest wall. Harry's familiar back profile is turned to you as he washes cocktail glasses. His defined muscles shift under the tight, black button-up he wears, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing the tattoos on his forearms. He's also sporting fitted slacks with matching attached suspenders. He's been growing out his hair within the last couple of months, the curls now flourishing past his ears. He always keeps them pushed back with a bandana or headband so they don't fall in his face while he works.

You don't want to be a nuisance and steal a seat from any guests, so you stand off to the side and wait for him to finish his cleaning duties. His bulky rings clink against champagne glasses as he dries them and puts them under the counter. You can hear him faintly whistling along to the music coming from the nearby banquet hall.

Once Harry finishes wiping his station clean, you watch him sneakily take out his phone and start typing something. You assume he's texting you to let you know he's done. He then washes his hands while another bartender walks behind the counter to clock in—they must be the one replacing him. You're not too knowledgeable about who all tends the bar since Harry is usually in the back running the kitchen, but it's intriguing to see him in a different environment nonetheless.

He gives the employee a friendly squeeze on their shoulder before clocking out and heading in your direction. He nearly brushes past you while taking his phone out again, completely oblivious to your presence, and you laugh before stopping him with a hand on his chest. It makes him stumble back with a confused pout, but he soon smiles in surprise when he recognizes you.

"How'd you get in?" he asks breathlessly, kissing your cheek.

"I told the security guards at the gate that my husband works here, and I'm picking him up. If they said no, I was going to tell them my water broke."

He smirks proudly. "Clever. How are you feeling? Baby's good?" He holds your upper arms, and his eyes scan your body as if you've changed drastically since you saw him only six hours ago.

"All good. Just a sore back like usual." You toy with one of his suspender straps. "What about you? It's your last shift for a while."

Exhaling happily, Harry clasps your hand in his and says, "I feel fantastic. Let's go eat, yeah? I'm starving."

He guides you through an open doorway leading to the restaurant's dining area, where the reserved table is. In the back of the room, you spot a candlelit booth with plates, silverware, and two glasses filled with ice water. The water doesn't go unnoticed by you, considering he set a goal for himself to stop drinking alcohol along with you.

A vase of beautiful red roses on the windowsill catches your eye as you sit down. Harry slides into the seat across from you. Only a few other booths are occupied; otherwise, the room is serenely quiet, with the occasional clink of metal and a sprinkle of light chatter.

"You look angelic, by the way," Harry says before taking a delicate sip of his water.

"Thank you," you whisper, nudging his foot with yours under the table. "I like your suspenders. They remind me of when you used to be a rookie assistant chef that I'd come to visit. You would wear them under your chef coat with a fancy little neckerchief. I thought you looked so adorable."

"Now I'm old and weathered," he says wryly.

"Well, you're turning thirty soon. Plus, you'll be a dad in a month. Isn't that when someone officially becomes a DILF?" You're not sure why you casually mentioned the acronym over a romantic dinner, but it's too late to retreat now.

Harry's eyes gleam, and he fails miserably at hiding a smile under his scrunched nose. "Pardon? What are you trying to insinuate, darling?"

"Nothing! Never mind,” you backtrack, embarrassed that you ever spoke. "I was only trying to bring up a nice memory—reminiscing, if you will. Forget I said anything."

"I'm definitely not forgetting that. The ugly neckerchief, however..." He laughs at himself. "God, that feels like forever ago. Time flies."

"I thought it was kind of attractive," you mumble around the rim of your glass.

He raises his eyebrows as a warning not to start something you don't want to finish, then clears his throat and sets his forearms on the table. "Speaking of work, that's what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I want you to keep an open mind, okay?"

Your lips downturn in curiosity. Just as you're about to reply, a waiter arrives at the table with a tray of steaming dishes and places them in the center. You had texted Harry what you wanted from the menu after he left this morning, and since he's the boss, everything is free, cooked to perfection, and served promptly.

"Thank you," Harry says politely before focusing back on you. The waiter leaves, and you begin picking at your food to distract yourself from your increasing heart rate.

"Um, did you say work? Did you get a promotion? Is that even a possibility for a head chef?"

You can physically see the color drain from his face. "So," he says nervously, ignoring your questions, "the baby's coming soon, yes? Obviously."

"Right..." you reply with a suspicious tone.

Shifting in his seat, he runs a hand through his tousled hair. "Listen, the restaurant during the fall and winter isn't as busy as the summertime. You know that. And because of that, I want to be home with you and the baby as much as possible. And I will with paternity leave, but once I go back to work my hours will pick up again, and it'll be—"

"Harry, just tell me," you interrupt gently. He has a bad habit of running circles around topics.

He blows out a short breath. "I'm demoting myself. It's in the works that I'll be the sous chef when I return, so that means fewer hours and more time at home."

You're glad you haven't taken a sip of water yet because you almost choke at the admission that left his mouth. Demotion? He has never mentioned that word to you before.

"Can I ask why in the world you would do that?" you ask sharply. You don't mean to sound snippy, but pregnancy hormones, on top of Harry's revelation, cause a pit of unwarranted annoyance to simmer in your gut.

"Love, let me explain." He reaches forward to grasp your hand across the table and squeeze it. "This is my choice. It's final, all right? I'm not going to be working ten hours a day, six days a week, while you're at home with our baby. That's ridiculous."

"Harry, what about—"

"Stop while you're ahead, because you're going to overthink it," he replies calmly. "If you're worried about money, don't be. It's only a slight decrease in my wage. Everything will be fine."

Your annoyance wins as you slide your free hand down your face. "You realize that we'll need more money when the baby comes. It's common sense. Why would you think cutting your hours is smart?"

Harry scoffs like what you're saying is absolute insanity. He leans in closer so the impending argument doesn't disrupt anyone's dinner, his voice hushed yet stern when he retaliates, "Would you rather me come home every day absolutely knackered and then spend a maximum of four hours with our child before I have to get up to do it all over again? Hmm?"

You shake your head in irritation and stubbornly remove your hand from his. "It's called adapting. It may be tough at first, but it becomes second nature. We just have to wait until the baby gets here to figure out a schedule that works."

Harry falls back against the booth and throws his hands up in frustration. They slap against his thighs before he says, "Do you realize how stupid you sound right now? You're talking about money and scheduling like we're fuckin'—"

"I'm leaving." When you stand, Harry's mouth instantly clamps shut. You don't care that you barely ate your food—you can't listen to him anymore. You're awfully close to lashing out.

Heading the way you came from, you hear Harry's footsteps behind you. Once you're in the parking lot, you groan when you remember that he has to ride home with you since you dropped him off earlier. While you struggle to unlock the car, you see Harry in your peripheral, striding to stop you from going any further.

"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry." His shoulders sulk, and he looks genuinely distraught. "Can we just talk this through when we get home, please?"

Your eyes dance over his defeated expression. You don't have the choice to say no since you live together, plus you promised years ago never to go to bed angry. So, you nod your head, and he gives you a timorous smile before withdrawing to the passenger seat.

As you drive, you give Harry the harrowing silent treatment. He deserves it, especially since he's looking out the window and pouting like a child with his arms crossed. The only sound in the confined space is the air conditioner running and cars zooming past on the highway. Your stomach grumbles, and you feel terrible about leaving two plates of food at the restaurant untouched.

After several minutes of dreadful silence, Harry finally breaks the tension when you park in the garage. He grabs a white envelope tucked in the console and asks, "What's this?"

Oh. You forgot about that.

"Nothing," you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Harry rolls his eyes and flings the envelope onto the dashboard, then reaches over to take the key out of the ignition to unlock the front door. Seconds pass before you hear a slam and an echo from him shutting the door harder than necessary. It causes you to swallow down more vexation. There have been tiny arguments more often since you got pregnant, and you blame your hormones every time for getting irritated so easily. Harry usually isn't the reason for those heightened emotions, but there are situations when he can be so stubborn that you just want to shake him out of it.

Eventually, you get out of the car with the envelope in hand and head down to the beach for some time alone. It'll be nice to sit by the water and cool down, figuratively and literally. You have an inclination that if you try to hash it out with Harry right now, it will only result in more regretful words.

You reach the private stretch of sand, holding your bump protectively as you descend the wooden steps. It's chilly by the oceanside this time of year, so you grab a towel that was left on the railing from previous evenings and drape it over your shoulders in case you get cold. The October sun has fully set, with orange and pink streaks expanding across the skyline.

You sit down and reflect on the unfortunate escalation of your conversation with Harry. You love him and could never feel an ounce of hatred toward him. He has never given you a reason to doubt anything, but to put his career on the back burner without mentioning it to you is hurtful. You almost feel guilty knowing he made the choice because of you and the baby. You sometimes shy away from being the main priority because you don't want to feel like a burden. In retrospect, it's incredibly thoughtful that he wants to work less to spend quality time with the baby when they arrive. On the other hand, you can't help but worry that you won't be financially secure because of it.

"Hungry?"

Your head shifts to find Harry walking toward you with a spoon and a strange-looking fruit in his hand. It's impossible not to smile when you note the outfit he changed into—banana yellow trousers and an argyle knit sweater. All of his rings are off except for his wedding band.

He's the love of your life and has nothing but pure intentions, so how could you not trust his decision?

"What is that?" you ask, pointing to the half-cut fruit as Harry plops down next to you.

"A papaya," he replies with a shrug. "A blog said that at thirty-two weeks, a baby is as big as one of these bad boys. So, naturally, I bought one."

You have to turn your face so he doesn't see your smile. You're not giving him the benefit of seeing you crack at his endearing ways just yet. "You're an unusual man, Harry Styles. Do you plan on buying more fruit for the last four weeks?"

"I already put pineapple on the grocery list," he says unconcernedly as he scoops out a chunk of the fleshy fruit. "Anyway, I didn't come out here to discuss fruit." His tongue sticks out as he takes a bite, the spoon leaving his mouth with a pop before he points it at you. "Still mad at me?"

You internally sigh, knowing it's useless to continue acting like he's in the wrong. "I can't stay mad at you. And I don't know why I got so worked up. I was just being overdramatic."

Harry hums in thought as he swallows another bite. "Expressing how you feel isn't overdramatic. Don't apologize for having those feelings, especially toward me. Yell at me if I'm being a dick; kiss me if I'm being a dreamboat. It’s simple, baby." He finishes his little speech by shoving another spoonful of papaya into his mouth, chewing introspectively while staring at the waves.

"Was it Socrates who said that?"

He plucks your bottom lip with the spoon and murmurs, "You're feisty today."

"Back to the topic," you say before he can proceed. He knows it riles you up when he calls you that. "Money shouldn't have been what my mind first went to. It's still a concern, but ultimately, making time for our family is the most important thing. I apologize for freaking out."

"You're forgiven." He scoots closer and holds a spoonful to your mouth. You accept the sweet flavor as he adds, "And I'm so sorry for calling you stupid. Please know that is the furthest thing from the truth."

"We all say things we don't mean sometimes. It takes basic empathy to understand that part of life," you reply. There's no use in acting like you haven't done the same thing in the past.

Harry slings an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in for a warm side hug. "What you said is true, by the way. We have time to figure things out and adapt. Let's enjoy the last month we have to ourselves.”

You nod in agreement and say, "I also want to thank you for being so thoughtful and putting our family first. I trust you with this new chapter in our lives. I don't doubt you at all."

"Don't worry about it," he says with a kiss to your temple. "I'm proud of you for dealing with every mental and physical change these past eight months. And I will always be here for you through the good and bad moments. In sickness and in health, remember?"

You smile fondly and take the white envelope out from under your leg. "Are you in the mood for a good moment with me?" Harry looks confused, but he nods anyway. "When you saw this in the car, it's not nothing like I said it was. It's from when I went to my prenatal appointment a few days ago. I know we decided to find out the gender a month before my due date, so I have the results. I haven't looked at them yet."

Harry's eyes widen, and his mouth parts as he sets the papaya down. "I am not prepared for this. Wait, hold on. Let me breathe for a second." His head tilts up toward the sky as he takes dramatic, calming breaths.

You laugh and set the envelope on his thigh. "Do the honors, Styles. Let's see if your prediction is right."

He picks it up and carefully opens the seal. Unfolding the paper filled with medical information, he quickly skims the tiny lettering to look for the answer he's been waiting for.

"Holy shit," he says, his voice cracking as his hand covers his mouth.

"I'm guessing you're right?" you ask, your eyes watering.

"Girl. We're having a girl. Jesus, I'm going to cry." He wipes away his tears. "Why am I crying? I was confident it was a girl."

"Because it makes it more real," you say, leaning over to kiss his damp, rosy cheeks. "Now we know for sure."

"Come here, honey. Let me take a look at her."

You sit on your knees between his spread legs. Harry sets the envelope down and lifts your dress, revealing your bump that puts quite some distance between you and him. His hands splay across the taut skin as he leans down to kiss right above your belly button. He gazes up at you under his wet lashes and smiles against your stomach, his dimples carved deep with happiness.

"I love you," he whispers with a sniffle. "I love both of you so much. With my entire soul."

In a simple moment, everything falls into place.

——

July - Present Day

Everything is falling apart.

Well, not really, but you sure feel that way as you bend over the toilet at seven in the morning and empty your queasy stomach once again.

It's the first Sunday in July, marking ten weeks of your second pregnancy. When you woke up with a wave of morning sickness a couple of hours ago, you noticed something peculiar. As you were rubbing circles on your abdomen to ease the nausea, it appeared that your stomach had seemingly popped overnight. The curve was more prominent and firm, a small bump you must have mistaken for bloating. The bump is pretty much nonexistent in a loose shirt or hoodie, but anything tight will hug it and be a constant reminder of baby number two growing in there.

Dizzily standing, you move toward the sink to brush your teeth for the umpteenth time, then gurgle some spearmint mouthwash to diminish the rancid taste in your mouth. Pots and pans can be heard clanging downstairs as you wipe your lips, and the occasional giggle from your daughter mixes with Harry's theatrical voice, which he puts on whenever she watches him cook.

The smell of sizzling bacon doesn't help the swirling feeling in your stomach as you head downstairs to the kitchen. Their lighthearted commotion grows louder, and you stop to stand in the doorway to soak in your favorite part of Sunday mornings. Harry is in front of the countertop, and your daughter stands on her tiptoes on a step stool next to him, the two of them watching pancakes turn golden brown on the griddle.

He's in full dad mode with tired eyes and an outfit that screams: I have a toddler and pregnant wife at home. In other words, a black button-up with pink flamingos and grey pleated trousers. They don't match whatsoever, but you know he doesn't care.

He voyages around the kitchen, pouring orange juice, dropping chocolate chips into the batter, and ensuring your daughter's little hands don't touch anything hot. Your hand subconsciously holds your bump as you think about how you'll get to see him interact with a newborn again—cradling them, teaching them to walk, and pretending to eat their hands and feet. He still does that with your daughter, but it breaks your heart knowing she'll grow out of it one day.

"Good morning," Harry acknowledges with his back turned, halting your daydreaming. How does he always sense your presence?

When you don't say anything, he turns to glance at you while setting a heart-shaped pancake on a plate. Your smile grows wider as you curl your pointer finger to beckon him closer. He gives you a confused look before unplugging the griddle and instructing your daughter not to touch anything on the counter. She'll be too distracted by the cartoon playing on the television to even notice that the both of you will be gone for a moment.

Sauntering toward you, Harry sticks his thumb in his mouth to lick the excess batter off. "What's up, baby?"

"I have a surprise to show you," you whisper, accepting his kisses.

"Yeah? S'it my half-birthday or something?" he asks, his voice still gravelly and slurred from sleep.

"No, this isn't about you," you tease with a pinch to his side. "Come with me."

You grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom just down the hall. Turning the lights on, you stand in front of the mirror and say, "I'm ten weeks today. I woke up with a little morning sickness, but look!" You lift your shirt and turn to the side to get a better angle of your stomach. "It was just pudge before, but it's an actual bump now."

Harry stands behind you and rubs his hands over the swell. "No fuckin' way. You... this happened overnight. I was spooning you this morning! How did I not notice?"

"I don't know. I didn't notice either, and it's my own body." You shake your head disbelievingly and place your hands over his. "I read that women's second pregnancy will have them showing earlier. I guess that's why I popped so soon. Last time, I didn't show until fourteen weeks or something like that."

He hums lowly, pulling you further back against his chest. "I've missed seeing you like this. It makes you glow more than usual." His mouth is by your ear when he quietly murmurs, "Makes me hard."

"You're so naughty in the mornings," you say, removing yourself from his grasp and pulling down your shirt. "C'mon, let's eat breakfast."

Harry whines in protest, gently grabbing your face and turning it toward him so he can nip your jawbone and then lock your lips together. After your stolen moment alone, the both of you head back to the kitchen to enjoy another blissful Sunday morning.

——

Takeout pizza is on the menu tonight. The trunk of the Volvo is open, with blankets and pillows strewn about to create a fort-like space for the three of you to sit in. Harry had driven the vehicle down to the beach so you could watch the sunset and feel the breeze from the ocean.

You get comfortable in the trunk and set the paper plates and napkins down. Harry and your daughter are in the beach grass, picking the wildflowers that blossom there. Her hand grips bunched stems while her other holds her dad's as they wander. Her precious, fruit-patterned dress flows in the wind.

Moments later, they come strolling toward the car with soft smiles. Your daughter clambers into the trunk with your help and hands you a makeshift bouquet of yellow and purple wildflowers.

"Thank you, sweetheart," you say with a kiss to her windswept hair.

Harry places his hands on either side of your thighs and leans in for some of your affection. You peck his lips; they're pink from the strawberry Kool-Aid he made earlier. Before he retreats, he glimpses at your baby bump. He exhales and looks at you with a crooked smile, his thumb stroking the underside of your baby bump.

"Kumquat," he says with a click of his tongue.

You laugh, albeit not understanding. "Come again?"

"A baby at ten weeks is the size of a kumquat," he explains, like it's a well-known fact.

"Interesting," you say. "Well, the kumquat is hungry, so get up here and cut the pizza."

Your daughter is oblivious to the conversation as Harry scoots next to you and begins rolling the pizza cutter. His forearm flexes, and the veins bulge when he does it. "Small bites, little lady," he tells her as he puts a slice on her plate.

Reaching behind you, you grab a bottle of sparkly pink nail polish you brought out. "She told me when you were picking up the pizza that she wanted you to paint her nails."

Harry nods and pats his lap. She excitedly sits between his legs and waits patiently. After taking the bottle of polish from you, he shakes it when his ringtone suddenly goes off. He juts his lips out as he reaches into his pocket to check the number.

"Hello?" he answers, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder. He opens the cap and begins painting her nails.

You observe his facial expressions. He has a serious look and frequently nods as he listens to whoever's on the other end of the line. You pluck a green pepper off the pizza and hold it up to him. He opens his mouth and takes it, scrunching his nose as a thank you.

"I'm good for tomorrow? Are you sure?" he asks through his chewing. You hear an unfamiliar muffled voice before he says, "Awesome, thank you. Call me if anything changes. Okay, bye." He sets down the nail polish and hangs up before resuming painting her pinky finger.

"Who was that?" you ask while tucking a wildflower stem behind his ear.

"My boss," he says, licking his thumb and wiping a smudge he made. I don't have to go in tomorrow since there are barely any reservations."

"No sparkles," your daughter blurts before you can reply. Harry freezes and eyes you perplexedly.

"What?" you ask. She points to one painted nail and purses her lips. You gently take her hand and observe it closely—no sparkles are showing up. The polish must have gone bad. "I'm sorry, baby. It must be icky polish. We can take it off and get another one."

It's almost scary how quickly the waterworks start. You exhale as you take the plate from her so she doesn't throw a fit and make a mess everywhere. She's crying and staring at Harry like he's the cause of no sparkles. Well, maybe he didn't shake the bottle enough, but you keep your mouth shut so you don't make matters worse.

Harry grabs her waist and props her in front of him. "We're not gonna start this. Mumma said we can get some more, all right? Behave, or I'm not painting your nails."

You could have predicted what happens next from experience. Her harmless fists hit his chest in frustration as she sobs. Undried polish smears all over his shirt. Harry has always been good at controlling these minor mishaps, so he inhales deeply before lifting her writhing body.

"Early bedtime it is, then," he mutters while walking toward the house.

You begin cleaning up the short-lived dinner. It isn't anything new you've had to deal with, but it exhausts you, especially when she has a tantrum during family time. You take the pizza box out of the trunk, then close it and decide to clean everything else tomorrow. You drive the car to the garage and lock up everything before stepping inside.

After putting the pizza in the fridge, you slowly go to your daughter's bedroom, listening for any crying or screaming. A sigh of relief leaves you when only subsiding whimpers indicate she's done for the night.

Your heart softens at the sight you walk in on. Harry sits against her headboard, his feet hanging past the edge of her tiny bed, as he cradles his baby girl. He soothingly rocks her side to side, his eyes closed, as he rubs circles on her back. Her heavy eyes are barely open, and her tear-stained cheeks are smushed against Harry's chest. She's in her pajamas now.

You kneel next to her bed, and she extends her arm, reaching for you. Harry jolts awake, sharply inhaling and opening his eyes. His grip loosens when he notices that she wants you. You stand and take her in your arms, her legs hugging your waist. You then sit by Harry's thighs and quietly laugh when you see the residue of nail polish staining his shirt.

Harry lazily grins and clasps his hands behind his head. "It's not funny. I bought this shirt because of her, and this is what I got in return. She's a proper menace."

You squeeze his ankle in good nature before replying, "I wonder where she gets it from."

He gasps in faux offense and grabs your daughter's hand, shaking it playfully. "Mumma's being mean, don't you think?"

She sleepily shakes her head. You raise your eyebrows smugly before smattering her cheeks with kisses until she smiles and tiredly whines into your neck.

Harry yawns before catching your gaze and jerking his head toward your stomach. "Should we tell her?" he mouths.

Your heart rate quickens. You're not too worried that she'll get upset, considering she has asked on a few occasions—as best she could with her limited vocabulary—if she could have a sibling. You think it's time to tell her the news now that you're showing.

As you nod eagerly, Harry swings his legs over the mattress and crouches between your knees. You shift your daughter so she's settled sideways on your lap, then nod again to let him initiate the conversation.

"We have something to tell you, sweetheart," he says, a fond gentleness in his tone reserved only for her. Her head turns away from the safety of your neck. "You know how you've been asking about a baby brother or sister?" She nods languidly, prompting him to ask, "And do you see her belly?"

You situate her next to you so you can lift the stretchy material of your tank top. Harry says, "There's a baby in her belly." He guides her hand to your bump. "Your brother or sister is growing in there."

Her expression is unreadable at first, but then she gazes at you with curious eyes. "Baby," she utters drowsily. She's about one second away from slipping into a deep sleep.

"I don't think she'll remember in the morning," Harry says with a laugh.

You smile dotingly and stand before tucking her into bed. You kiss her forehead and watch her doze off as Harry tells her goodnight, whispering his boundless love for her and sealing his truthful words with a feather-light kiss to both of her cheeks.

Shutting off her bedside lamp, you leave the room with Harry hot on your heels. You're in the process of pulling your tank top down on the way to your bedroom, but before you can reach the door, Harry grabs your hips, stopping you in the dark hallway.

"You can't look this good and go straight to bed," he says lowly, his breath warm and intimate.

"Mom needs her sleep before work tomorrow," you reply with a smirk, keeping to yourself that you wouldn't mind staying up a bit longer if he continues praising you like this.

"Please, baby," he murmurs, his hands drifting dangerously lower. "Just a quick one, yeah? I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

Don't give in, you think to yourself. Make him work for it. 

"Anything?" you ask sensually as his fingers begin to brush along your inner thighs, causing your knees to weaken temporarily.

Harry licks his lips, his tongue poking your neck with the faintest touch. "Don't act like I wouldn't let you ruin me, darling."

You clench your thighs around his hand, and he hoarsely groans against your skin. "But I'm so tired, Harry. It won't last very long if I want to do what I want with you."

"Like I give a shit." He cups your core with his palm, his impatient fingers stroking over the fabric of your silk pajama shorts. "You could give me the sloppiest blowjob ever, and I'd still worship the ground you walk on."

You bite your bottom lip, suppressing the urge to moan. "Will you run me a bath afterward?"

"We can just fuck in the bath instead, if that's what you fancy."

You ponder for a brief second. "It would be an easy cleanup. We'd have to do it in the downstairs bathroom, though, and you'd have to be quiet. Think you can handle that?"

"Dunno. Do you plan on making me scream?"

"I could put those suspenders you wore today in your mouth to shut you up."

He exhales a sexy sound, one that reveals you caught him off guard. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You hum and grab his hand, raising it to your mouth to nip at the calloused pad of his thumb before walking down the stairs to the bathroom just around the corner. The porcelain tub awaits, and you turn the knob and plug the drain, water gushing out. The bay window it sits in front of exhibits an endless ocean and horizon view. The sky is fading into starlit blues and purples.

Once the water is high enough and sufficiently warm, you shut the faucet off and begin removing your clothes. Harry enters the bathroom a few moments later and quietly closes the door behind him, flicking the lock. He unbuttons his shirt painstakingly slowly while facing the mirror, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

While he undresses, you step into the tub and watch him. He's taking his trousers off now, his exposed back muscles flexing along with his biceps as he shimmies the garment down his legs. His body is truly something from an empyrean vision. Every indent and definition on his skin magnetizes your eyes.

He's entirely stripped when you break away from your reverie, his legs gracefully stepping over the tub's ledge to settle behind you. A muted moan escapes him when his cock rubs against your lower back.

"Already making noise? I haven't even started yet," you tease, leaning into him.

"Can you blame me? I've got my wife"—his fingers glide against your pulsing entrance—"dripping for me already. Absolutely soaked."

"Then do something about it."

Harry palms your clit, and you instinctively bend your knees. "I thought you wanted to be in control tonight."

"Will you be good? You have a reputation for getting antsy and taking over."

His hands travel upwards and squeeze your sensitive breasts. "Yeah? Does that bother you?"

"You know I like it when you're submissive. Especially when you whine for me and try to touch me when you know you can't."

"Go on, then. Take care of your husband."

You turn around and straddle his thigh, your name inked permanently above his kneecap that's visible through the water. "I'm going to take care of myself first."

"Ride it. You're the only one who's allowed to." His hands try to latch onto your waist, but you slap them away.

"Touch yourself while I ride you."

Harry's tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he exhales heavily. He grips his cock, squeezing and twisting to relieve himself from the throbbing ache. You begin grinding on his leg to relieve your pressure and stifle your moans in his neck, your core slick with arousal as his thigh muscle flexes with each motion. He starts pumping, one arm resting on the edge of the tub. Your hands place themselves on the side of his neck, and your thumbs apply light pressure there, causing him to release a choked moan.

You shush him. "You have to be quiet. What do you need? Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you since you're being so good."

"You," he whispers with a pained look etched on his face. "I need you around my cock. Need you to press against me. Please, please, please."

His voice dies with each plea, and you cradle his limp head as he fully submits to you. Whenever he begs, you entirely unravel. Your dominant wall crumbles with his whines, and his deep voice always goes a pitch higher to show his desperation for you. His pink lips form solicitous praises and carnal noises of desire. You want to kiss them until they become swollen and numb.

"I know," you say, kissing the scrunch between his furrowed eyebrows. "Fill me up. I'm ready."

Shakily lifting on his thigh, you get Harry to sit up more in the tub so he can line his cock up with your entrance. When you slowly sink, he stretches your walls and hits you deep, leaving a breathy moan in your mouth. Your fingers scratch his soft stomach, and your body leans into him as you begin to ride him. Your hand reaches down to squeeze one of his balls, making him let out a guttural moan before you stop him by covering his mouth. His muffled whimpers encourage you to go faster, your stomach pressing into his abdomen with each thrust.

"D-don't want to," Harry stutters through ragged breaths. "Let me come on your stomach. Please. You're so beautiful like this."

Who are you to say no to such a filthy request?

"Are you close?" The question lingers, and Harry seems to be spaced out from pleasure because he doesn't answer. You can feel him throb inside you as he jerks his hips up at a different angle. His glistening chest is heaving, and his eyes are pinched shut.

"Harry." You cradle his cheeks to bring him back to earth. "Are you there?"

He hears you this time, nodding fervently until, little by little, he slips himself out of you to stand up in the water. You get up with him and sit on the edge of the tub so he towers over you, and he holds his cock and looks up at the ceiling as he comes on your stomach and chest. You hold his free hand to balance him, his legs trembling and his lips pulled inward to stop any moans from escaping.

His warm release drips down on you, and once he finishes, he falls to his knees in the water, some of it splashing over the tub and onto the floor. His hands grip your ankles to put them over his shoulders, leaving kisses on your legs. You spread them more so he can finish you off. You could quickly come in two seconds if he puts his mouth on you.

"Fingers or mouth?" he asks, hair falling over his eyes.

"Mouth. Can I come on you, too?"

He whines against your inner thigh. "Yeah?"

You whimper and nod. Harry immediately latches his mouth to suck on your clit. There's already pressure building in your lower stomach. He moves down to lick inside of you, his nose nudging your clit as his large, veined hands splay almost protectively on your bump.

"Feels so good," you say, placing your hands on the tub's edge to steady yourself. "I feel it. Please don't stop."

He licks a long stripe, not holding back by fucking his tongue inside so deep that it makes you ache. Your legs tighten around him as you clench multiple times until you can sense your burning climax approaching.

"Harry. Please, I need—" You can't finish your sentence because Harry stands up abruptly and hooks his hand under your knees to lift you, carefully stepping out of the tub and sitting you on the rug. It's messy, and it's uncoordinated. However, he's never one to give you a stagnant sex life.

He cradles you as your body shakes, then lays down on his back so you can fulfill your request. You straddle his torso, your clenching core settling on his abdomen that's deliciously slick in the low lighting of the bathroom. His thumb presses onto your clit, a move that always allows your orgasm to boil over.

Your neck tilts back, and you orgasm. Harry's hands are everywhere—kneading your ass, rubbing up and down your thighs, and groping your breasts. You're grinding on his stomach as you ride out the last of your release, your hands on his sternum. His skin is sticky with your arousal, and you eventually collapse on your back next to him in exhaustion.

"C'mere, love," Harry rasps, his arm extended. You're too far away."

You breathe tiredly, your hands resting on your bump. "I can't. My legs feel like jelly."

Harry snorts and sits up with a groan. He quickly unplugs the drain and crawls over to hover above you, leaving a wet kiss on your stomach. His hand blindly finds a towel around and begins wiping you down.

"This is the lamest aftercare ever," you say, laughing. The dry towel doesn't feel nice on your sweaty skin, and Harry's movements are lazy from the physical exertion.

"That's enough out of you," he slurs through his exhaustion, gently wiping your stomach.

"Should I take off work tomorrow?" you wonder aloud. "I want to sleep in."

"Yes," he whispers, grabbing your hands to sit you up. His eyes take in every bit of you. "Look at you. You're going to be the death of me."

Every nerve of yours seems to tingle at his words. "Hey, remember when I was pregnant last time, and you nearly broke my back during sex?"

Harry cackles way too loud, and you hush him as his hands slap over his mouth. "I was so scared when that happened. But I could only take you from behind because you were ready to pop, so it's not entirely my fault."

"Excuse me? How is that not your fault?" You yank the towel from him and begin cleaning him. "I'm surprised you didn't make my water break with how hard you were going."

"Jesus, you've got a dirty mind. Save it for later, would you?"

A comfortable silence ensues while you both get up, wrap towels around your bodies, and then head to the bedroom. You pick out one of Harry's shirts and a pair of underwear to wear as he slides into some black boxers. While you ruffle your slightly damp hair, he sneakily picks you up and lightly tosses you on the bed, making you squeal in surprise.

"Gonna take off work tomorrow?" he asks, kissing down your throat.

"Yeah. I'll lie and say my morning sickness is bad."

His kisses move to your cheeks. "And what if it actually is?"

"Then my husband will wait on me hand and foot," you say with a grin. "Feed me soup in bed. Massage me. Kiss me better."

Harry tucks your hair behind your ear. "You know I'd do that anyway, right? Just say the word, and I'll do anything for you."

You stare at his kind eyes and inviting lips. His shadow of a dimple even when he's not smiling. His perfect nose that resembles your daughter's. His cheeks that were meant to be pinched fondly. His bunny teeth that made you fall in love from day one. The love of your lifetime, with a soul that shelters a heart overflowing with endless love.

"I love you."

A whispered reciprocation is spoken, and it's all you need in this world.

——

[misty-metropolis]

People with complex dissociative disorders often have difficulty processing or expressing emotions. This can look like any number of things. For example:

Emotions being dramatically dissociated into individual parts, such that a host part feels limited to no emotion, but there exists another part who does nothing but cry, and a part who feels such incandescent rage that they are unable to function properly

Emotions being muted and difficult to parse from each other; alexithymia stemming from trauma / abuse

Emotions being largely dissociated, with random bursts of emotion that are scary and overwhelming

Emotions being very sharp and present, but jumbled and often in combination with each other. This may create an impression of being flaky, fickle, or difficult to please

Emotions cycling too rapidly to properly identify them or process how they are affecting individual parts or the system at large

This is a non-exhaustive list. Feel free to add on your own experiences.

For those who are interested, I also have some resources for emotion regulation, as well as some free strategies shared by my therapist, under the cut.

First, I know this has been said before but it really does work wonders, you need to pay attention to your vulnerability factors. Vulnerability factors are elements of your environment or internal experience that make it more difficult to self-regulate. A somewhat common community term for these is forks (in relation to the spoon theory). Common vulnerability factors include lack of sleep, hunger, and needing to use the restroom. Adequately caring for your body's physical needs allows for more complete emotion regulation and more energy to go toward emotion processing when it's needed. If you are sleep deprived, for example, and then become triggered, you're already expending so much energy just to maintain functionality that you're less likely to be able to prevent yourself from doing something you'll regret, like snapping at a partner.

I'm also happy to provide an overview of a few emotion regulation tools from Dialectical Behavioral Therapy.

Positive Psychology has a set of three emotional intelligence worksheets (link) that are a good jumping-off point for exploring where you're at in that regard and strengthening your emotional intelligence skills. The emotion regulation questionnaire (link) is a clinical tool that can also provide some insight.

First, there's the STOP skill. STOP stands for Stop, Take a Step Back, Observe, and Proceed Mindfully.

When you feel overwhelmed by your emotions, or think they may be at risk of controlling you, force yourself to freeze in place. This prevents you from acting impulsively and doing something you'll regret. Try to name the emotion(s) you're feeling as descriptively as possible.

Then take a step back and give yourself some time to contemplate the situation with a little space from it. It's not often that you have to make a split-second decision based on limited information, so don't try to force yourself to do so.

Take in as much information as you can about the events taking place around you. Ask questions of other people in the situation with you. Try not to jump to conclusions, or listen to your automatic negative thoughts, which are based on an outdated belief system.

Use questions like "what are my goals in this situation?" and "how can my decisions impact the outcome?" to guide your decision-making process as you proceed.

Then there's the Opposite Action skill. This is the one that I use the most in my daily life, as a person with Borderline Personality Disorder. Opposite Action encourages you to reject the impulses you feel when you experience a strong emotion, and to instead do something that is the opposite of that. A few examples (mostly dealing with anger, because that's where I use this skill the most):

When I feel frustrated or angry with a console video game, I want to throw the controller, so the opposite action I choose is to press the buttons very gently and deliberately, without force. (Consequently, I also notice more success when I do this!)

When I feel angry with my partner's behavior, I want to yell at xem or say something that will hurt xem, so the opposite action that I choose is to gently explain my feelings and ask them to explain what happened from their perspective.

When I feel ashamed of something that has happened to me, I want to isolate and hide from the world, so the opposite action I choose is to share my feelings (and the event, if I feel capable) with someone I trust and love.

The last skill I want to overview is Cope Ahead. This is a skill in which you practice ahead of time to figure out how you'll deal with a situation when it arises.

Step 1: Identify a situation that may cause you discomfort or strong emotions. I generally prefer to be more on the vague side, because details will vary and that allows me to get more mileage out of my cope ahead, but you should do it however is most helpful for you. Make sure you check the facts and carefully identify the emotions that might arise and interfere with your skills.

Step 2: Pick out your coping and problem-solving skills ahead of time. This is where Cope Ahead gets its name. You identify a situation and then decide in advance how you're going to react to it, allowing yourself to rehearse the possibilities and decrease the chances of acting impulsively*.

Step 3: Imagine yourself in the situation. Picture yourself going through it in the first person, not as though you're watching a film about yourself.

Step 4: Rehearse your reactions to the situation and any strong emotions it may bring up. Rehearse your thoughts and behaviors. Practice coping effectively until you feel like you can ace it. Do this in as many sessions as you need.

Step 5: REST! Do something that brings you peace to care for yourself after each session.

*Impulsive behavior is something with which many people with BPD struggle, and DBT was originally developed to treat BPD, despite its applications in other fields.

Sources:

DBT Tools (link)

Positive Psychology (linked above)

My therapist (can't link that one, sorry)

Also, I've taken DBT twice through and am licensed to teach it.

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 8

It wasn’t dark, it wasn’t dank, and it wasn’t dimly lit. Steve didn’t like stereotypes, or cliches. He didn’t like the idea of doing his business in a dark warehouse, or a basement with leaky pipes, he liked adequate lighting and things to be at least slightly sanitary. Robin knew these things, his previous ‘meeting’ had been thrown together by someone else, but Robin knew how to set up a damn fine line up.

Four men, and one woman, sat in chairs lined up next to each other, in the living room space of a currently under-development block of apartments. The one they were in was finished as were a few others, but the rest were still being built, workmen having been sent home for the day with a full days wage for their discretion.

All blindfolded, all tied up, Robin stood behind them alongside two men, back facing a wall, never a window, always with her eye on the door. The door where Steve stood, eyes on the four in front of him as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, hands already covered by gloves.

“What shook loose?”

“These four have talked to Eddie in the past few months. Cant tell you what they said to him, but all four have had direct verbal contact with him in some way shape or form.” Their involvement in what’d happened wasn’t likely, Robin would have bet a good chunk of whatever Steve would pay her for her work, but Steve needed it.

Steve needed to be sure.

“Just these four?” He loosened his tie before easing it away from his neck and hanging it up onto the rack where his coat and suit jacket rested.

“Mmmhm.” Most steered clear of Eddie, Eddie wasn’t to be spoken to, only Steve could talk to Eddie, and if you had to talk to Eddie, it was short, and sweet, and never about anything involving what Steve did for work.

Robin wouldn’t voice her doubts though, that wasn’t her job. Not in this environment anyway. It was her job to deliver these people, and allow Steve to do the rest. Had they been in his office, or in his living room, had he asked her outside of that room if she actually suspected these people, then perhaps it’d be her role to tell him no.

No Steve, your theories are straight up kookie-dook, Eddie just left because that’s what Eddie had to do.

That was not her role in that room. Her role was to stand there, and be quiet until excused.

“You can leave.” He didn’t look at her as he said that. He didn’t watch her as she nodded once and made for the door. She wasn’t a fan of interrogations. He got it, he understood, she’d been in a few herself over the years, the worst one involving Russians. They both had scars from that one. She’d never stayed in on his interrogations for that very reason. It made her uncomfortable knowing he was capable of that.

She liked the chase, liked the hunt, she didn’t like the kill.

He waited for the door to close behind her, to approach the four in front of him. He was grateful for two things, one… efficiency. Robin had conjured these four up within a week. And two, timesaving. She’d put them all together to save time. Amazing.

He motioned for the two extras to come forward and remove the blindfolds. He recognised all four of them.

A driver he fired two months ago for buying questionable things on his company provided credit card that was solely to be used for food and gas while working.

A secretary who still worked for him.

One of the security guards he’d hired on a temporary basis for a charity thing he’d thrown a month ago.

And a dealer from the nearby college. Not employed by him, but surely recognised him, would know who Steve was, would know of his many lucrative side businesses. Steve was instantly suspicious of two of them. The other two not so much.

All four appeared scared, there was no defiance, no faux confidence, or self-satisfaction in any of their expressions. Just fear. “You all recognise me, don’t you?” He didn’t need their answers, he knew they did. “You’re here… because you maybe broke a rule. I don’t want to hurt any of you, that’s not what I want to do. I would very much prefer it if these gloves stayed clean.” He lifted his hands, wiggling the clear gloves he wore on his hands. “Cleaners cost a fair bit, it’s always more for viscera removal.” A sob had him snap his gaze to the woman, stare thunderous, not an ounce of empathy in it. “Stop that. Tears won’t help you.”

She bit her bottom lip, nodded, and fell silent once more.

“The reason I’m beginning with a verbal interrogation, is because I have no real proof that any of you actually broke this rule. So let’s keep this violence free, shall we? I ask you a question, and you answer, I’ll decide if you’re telling the truth or not, sound fair?” Lie detectors didn’t do shit with his employees. They were all trained on them, even the damn secretaries could pass a lie detector test.

He didn’t employ useless people. He didn’t employ liabilities.

He continued when he was met by silence, not one of them wanting to argue less violence should suddenly appear on the menu. “Great! My partner, Eddie Munson… you’ve all met him.” He eyed the dealer, he had no idea that Eddie was taking something, it didn’t change how he saw the man, but… he wished he’d have known, he could have gotten Eddie better than whatever he was getting from elsewhere. “He… left. Me. Usually I’m aware this sort of thing wouldn’t really warrant a line up like this, definitely not an interrogation, but… his leaving doesn’t quite make sense.” He couldn’t make it make sense. Maybe he was just paranoid.

Steve began to pace in front of them, back and forth as he continued on “We were having such a nice night, everything seemed fine, and then… the morning after, out of nowhere, he ended things. Now, trust me, I know sometimes I can get a little in my own head, I can often think everything is fine but be missing glaringly obvious cues to things hurtling toward relationship disaster, but… there were no cues. Gone over it a bunch of times, not a single cue.” He stopped in front of the dealer.

The woman who’d tried tears to lessen whatever blow she was potentially about to receive from the big dangerous man.

“All of you, every single one of you, have spoken to him at least once in the past few months and you all know who I am. What I do. What we don’t know, is what you spoke about, so… one by one, why don’t you tell me?” Steve lowered down to a crouch in front of her, arms resting on his knees, she looked so well put together, but he knew she also worked as a TA at the college. “Stacey, right? Stacey Gingham, twelve Cornwallis, married to… Thomas Gingham, two children, Matthew, and Penelope?” He didn’t need to threaten them, just his knowledge of them was the threat, he watched the realisation of that fact dawn on her face in real time. “Hi… you’re the only one here who’s never worked for me, and so shouldn’t know about the rule. So tell me, how do you know Eddie?”

“I—I work for—”

“It doesn’t matter who you work for, Stacey, it doesn’t, your connections are useless here. I’m not scared of them. Just tell me how you know Eddie and we can get out of this unscathed, okay?” Violence wasn’t the goal here, he didn’t want to hurt them, but he would if necessary.

Innocent or not if they pushed their luck he’d respond as needed.

“He… he buys from me sometimes. His—His brother, Dustin Henderson? He goes to the college, real smart kid, highschooler but he won a place to attend the science classes for free twice a week. Eddie buys weed from me on the days he meets Dustin at the college, that’s all, he only ever buys weed. We talk about his brother, how he’s doing in the class, uh—if he needs any support, I don’t—I didn’t even know he was connected to you, Mr. Harrington, I swear.”

Eddie had a brother? Right… one of the many things he didn’t know about Eddie.

He nodded his head, silent in his processing. Then he stood up, and took one large step to the left of her, stopping at Charlie. His driver. He saw no lie in what she’d said, no break in eye contact, no pupil dilation, just standard stress indicators. She was scared, she wasn’t lying. “Charlie. You spoke to Eddie when you drove him around the city, didn’t you? Did you talk about me?”

“N-Not about you. He didn’t even ask about you Mr. Harrington an—an I know I fucked up with the card, I know I did that an I can’t take that back but—but I know the rule sir, I know it. Even if he’d have asked, sir I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have I swear!”

The secretary was next, he was cute, young, bit of a party guy, used to flirt with the sandwich girl at the office whenever she made her way up with Steve’s regular PB&J until she shut him down with a polite ‘you’re not my type’. She had a huge crush on Robin, it was adorable.

It was the same, Eddie had only spoken to him once, and it was about directions to the closest not Starbucks coffee place.

The security guard apologized for any confusion, and told him Eddie had only asked about his job, about other places he’d worked at cause he recognised him from a bar he’d bounced across town. Dead end, after dead end, after dead end.

Not a single viable suspect, not a single liar in the bunch.

He knew many in his position would push harder. Many would resort to violence in a bid to force out another answer, even if another answer didn’t exist. He knew many would kill, pushing it too far only to receive the same answer over and over again until the victim stopped talking. He knew what these people expected to happen to them.

Steve wasn’t that kind of person.

He walked out of that room after giving his two men the instruction to release them, turned to Robin who still stood outside the door, a knowing expression on her face, and simply asked “can you find him for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Part 10

[squea]

today (i think) is my 5th simblr anniversairy!!!! yuck but also waow

after coming out of what has probably been the most traumatic week of my life, and generally doing not so good mentally for the last few months, I can say that I'm ready to get better and do better for myself. feeling worthless and helpless is a very scary place to be, feeling like dirt for failing at most things, and being barely adequate at others! but im not saying all this to be all boohoo im trying to say the opposite!

despite everythin, simblr has been such a pillar to me and my mental health sdjfsg it sounds dumb ik! but in late 2018 i blocked almost everyone i knew and became a hermit for a bit whilst i was going through some medical things. at that time i set up my simblr and it was so refreshing to be in an environment where my hobbies and interests which had been ridiculed for years irl, were celebrated and shared. i was having so much fun with the ugliest reshade in the world, 0 cc making knowledge but a desire to learn and just interacting with others in the community dfjghdf

and thank you so so much from the bottom of my heart to those who have commissioned me since i started doing commissions last year. seriously you have no idea how much its helped me financially and mentally gfjdhf

anyway!!!!! this is already coming across incredibly yucky but just wanted to say thank you. to anyone ive spoken to once or now talk to daily on discord (u know) because youve helped me more than i can be bothered to find the words to explain ok. this place has given me purpose and stability to improve mentally, learn, and make friends!!!

for a couple months now ive been working on my story with corn. i cant wait to start posting it sdjfhsd. things are getting better for me, i think! :-)

anyway thank u thank u thank u thank u kisses for u

[fruitless-vain]

hi! do you have any ideas on how to reward a dog who doesn't have any strong motivators? Treats are the only thing that work but he doesn't really care if there is something else he wants, doesnt care for toys, pets are ignored. I just have no idea what other rewards could be used

Id take a good look at Why the dogs motivation seems to be lacking, what environment it tanks in, and ensure to keep an eye out for things like stressors, overstimulation, fear, met needs, and other variables that may impact a dog’s comfort taking treats or exhibiting play behaviour. Things like illness or pain should also be considered as a factor for a lack of motivation (schedule their annual and take a good look at their behaviour and their movement- do they sit sloppy, pop hip often, hunch back, etc. these can all be more overlooked signs of pain!). Breed can also be a factor as some are more self motivated than people pleasing so their motivation tends to just look a bit different!

I'd also be curious to know if this dog has always been disinterested or if this has cropped up over time. A common factor for decreasing motivation is the fact that training itself has become unfun. Usually as a result of asking too much of the dog too fast, not paying them adequately for the work they're doing, working in far too complicated settings, too many competing reinforcers, getting frustrated during the session, using rewards to lure a dog towards feared things or simply having training sessions run on for too long where the dog then ends sessions feeling bored or tired. This can cause even the most active dog to become averse to training as a whole which can present itself as an aversion or lack of interest in many common rewards.

Additionally see what sorts of environments the dog is comfortable being rewarded in, perhaps they take treats okay in a certain room of the home but not outside. This can give us a lot of info and allow us to start in an environment they can succeed in and gradually shift to other environments with more complex challenges (like the competing reinforcers you mentioned)

Reinforcers can be Anything the dog actually wants. The sky is really the limit here. I can stick a treat in every dogs mouth and it’s not going to help anything if the dog itself doesn’t find that treat rewarding. Some options might be:

Treats- experiment with different types and textures. Smelly cheeses, hotdog, and sausage are common high value snacks that can help increase motivation in difficult situations but all dogs are different and some might find a satisfying crunch of a crispy biscuit more rewarding. Try new things and see what they gravitate towards. Additionally watch the way you deliver the reward, a common mistake is to push the treat in towards the dog's nose- this can be off-putting as you add spatial pressure which over time can cause a dog to refuse to take treats altogether. Instead try to offer the treat a distance away from their nose so they step towards it to take it (also watch for things like the way you hold your hand, some dogs may find a hand looming down with the treat threatening while a hand held below nose level with the palm up to be nicer to take treats from). You can also deliver treats in more engaging ways instead of just handing it to them. Toss it in the air for them to catch, roll it along the floor to chase, scatter a few pieces in grass, have them chase and follow the hand for a bit prior to releasing the treat. Make getting the treats a whole Experience!

Toys- rubber toys, canvas, biting, chasing, squeakers, tug. There's a ton of options. Not all dogs like playing in the middle of training as it breaks their focus but others live for it. While not for every dog I will say that playing is a good measure for a dog's comfort. If, for example, you can play tug indoors and have a fun time but the dog is unable to play tug at all outdoors that tells us the dog doesn't feel comfortable enough to exhibit that behaviour. That's information we can use!

Petting- Not my favourite thing to use, affection isn't really something you want to be bargaining off in exchange for favours but it has its uses. A fearful dog may love some pets to help comfort them and reduce that fear response, some affection can also go a long way in just grounding your dog and keeping a training session light and fun. A bit of a social fun break. There's definitely some dogs that can appreciate a pet as a reinforcer and they can work in a pinch if other reinforcers aren't available.

Sniffs- Not something you want to overuse as sniffing is a fundamental part of how dogs explore the world but an excellent way to shift to self reinforcing fundamentals like loose leash walking. Most dogs love a good sniff, your hound types especially, and you can use that to your advantage as you ask for a behaviour and then release them to go snuffle away. Sniffing is also a calming behaviour that can reduce heart rate and build confidence in their environment which can reduce issues like not taking treats outdoors in the first place.

Speed- A lot of dogs find human walking paces slow and frustrating (a common cause for leash pulling) so you may find that in outdoor environments you can reward your dog by simply jogging for a short burst. The speed is fun and enticing and as such can often become quite the powerful reward.

Personal play + Volume - Whether this be the opportunity to howl and bark or you getting loud and excited with them. Sometimes a dog may not be interested in toys but they may be interested in your engagement. This might be baby talking to them in a happy tone or fully getting down on their level to wrestle and bop around or perhaps running away and having them chase you. A different way to initiate play for those disinterested in toys.

Premack's Principle - When you are dealing with competing reinforcers most people will find they lose this battle where whatever you have is not as valuable as what the dog actually wants (chasing a squirrel perhaps). In many cases you cannot fight instinct and genetics with a piece of cheese. At least not without prepwork. This is where Premack's Principle comes in to play, where a dog is able to do a less desirable behaviour (ignoring the squirrel) in exchange for a more desirable behaviour (getting to go chase the squirrel). You can use the thing you're struggling with to reinforce what you'd rather see. Another example may be having your dog a distance away from other dogs, waiting for eye contact and then releasing them to go greet the dog. Over time this could cause an exciteable greeter to offer frequent eye contact to you whenever they spot a dog in anticipation of getting to go greet the other dog which is a nice alternative to barking or pulling. Practically everything your dog would Rather Be Doing you can use as a reward for what You would rather they be doing.

I'd also take a look in to "engagement games" online, there should be a load of force free resources out there for ways to make yourself more engaging and fun which can really help in encouraging a dog to be more excited to train. Strong foundations in how they view interacting with you and training as a whole can really go a long way in impacting motivators and training results.

There's a whole lot more to consider and a ton of more complex things that could be at play but without knowing your dog personally I'll leave this here for you to ponder and play with!

[papermint-airplane]

I'm really not doing well guys. Tl;dr my life sucks a lot. That's all you need to know.

My job is still jerking us around on the layoffs. They started in October of last year with "we're selling the department and laying everyone off in February" then when March rolled around and nothing had happened yet, told everyone "lol just kidding the buyer dropped out". So a lot of people quit because this clown company just told everyone it was willing to sell their jobs out from under them and didn't give a shit who was affected or how.

My job is not a job that can function when short staffed. It was already short staffed before they pulled this fakeout layoff shit and now we're lucky to have two people scheduled at any given time. They're paying thousands in overtime, begging people to come in even for a couple of hours on their days off because we don't have enough people to cover one shift, let alone the three they need because the department is 24/7. Customers are rude and entitled. I've been threatened, I've been called horrible names, I've been told I'm a shit human being and don't deserve to live. I'm not allowed to hang up on them. I'm expected to sit there and just take it and not say anything. Most days, we're so busy that I can't take my daily fifteen minute break or even get up to go to the bathroom. And that's only scratching the surface of what goes on at my job.

I have had a history of overworking myself in that job and everyone knows it. I've had literally hundreds of public panic attacks, three full-on mental breakdowns where I was screaming and literally tearing handfuls of my hair out in front of my coworkers from stress, ended up in the hospital twice because I thought I was having a heart attack, and took off three months in 2020 to check myself into an inpatient mental healthcare facility all the way across the country. I have had countless meetings with my supervisors and their supervisors and HR about the toxic work environment and shitty management. I had to beg them to take me off my 8 day rotation (four days of ten hour shifts, four days of eight hour shifts, all in succession with no days off in between) because I started shaking and laughing uncontrollably around day 6 because I was having a literal fucking breakdown. I have literally had to be taken away from work in an ambulance before.

On top of my anxiety being the worst it's ever been (and that includes when I lived with my abusive father), my depression has gotten so bad that all I can do nowadays is work and sleep. Sometimes I don't even get fully in the house before I pass out because I'm so exhausted. I have woken up on my living room floor after work more than once. I told them that I could no longer work shifts like that nor could I take overtime for my own mental health. And they still act like I'm lazy because I don't work 14 hour shifts daily. Bitch, I'm barely holding it together with my weekly 40 hours, and I'm expected to work every Thanksgiving and Christmas but that's just not enough. Nothing I do is enough. And now I don't even have enough energy for the few things I have that I still enjoy. Want to know why my Sims story is on hiatus? Because I have to force myself to do literally anything other than sleep. My house looks like a disgusting hoarder's nest because I can barely move on my days off. I cry all the time. I can't stand to be touched. I shower excessively because I feel filthy when I come home from work in a way I can't adequately articulate. My eczema is so bad that my neck and face are literally covered in bloody red rashes. I look horrible. I feel worse. I have gained over 150 lbs since starting that job in 2006. My thyroid is busted. Some days, I truly believe that I died long ago and this is my own personal Hell.

Now they're telling us that "we definitely have a buyer for the department and all the contracts have been signed". They said there'd be a transition period, after which we'd be laid off but we'd be told when the transition period begins. Now, we got an email telling us we're halfway through the transition period and are probably getting laid off in August "but we don't know when in August, so stay tuned." At this rate, I'm likely to show up one day and be told to go home. I have no idea when that will be and I have no way to know how to prepare.

The only reason I'm still putting up with this bullshit is because...well, to be honest, I've put in a lot of applications and got absolutely no replies. I'm an unemployable useless sack of shit. My company is at least giving us a really good severance package. I'm getting 17 weeks of pay (one week for every year I've worked there) plus another four weeks of pay, plus a $1000 bonus for staying through the transition period. I think I will also qualify for unemployment. I'm trying not to freak out but I don't know what I'm going to do when my severance runs out. I have only had two jobs in my entire life: a grocery store job when I was a teenager for 3 years and this job that I've had for nearly 18 years. My resumé is one page. I have no skills outside of this job. I'm never going to get hired anywhere that's going to pay me anywhere near what this hellhole of a job paid me.

I truly wish I were brave enough to kill myself but I'm not. I keep living and it keeps getting worse and I'm bombarded with hundreds of news articles and Tumblr posts every day telling me how the world is falling apart around me, so even if by some miracle I manage to find a job that pays me enough to fucking live, I don't have a future anyway. I'm almost 40 and I keep waiting for my life to begin but it never does. And it never will. I will never be happy. I will never be safe. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve safety. My own fucking parents hated me from the moment my mom read the lines on her pregnancy test. If my own parents can't love me, nobody can. I'm on medication and in therapy but sometimes, I wonder if it's doing anything at all. You can't fix what's wrong with me. I was just born wrong. And no matter where I go or what kind of job I end up in, the same shit will just keep repeating over and over and over because that's all I deserve. I'll just keep on hurting until global warming or war takes me out and I end up in real Hell.

In an hour, I'm going to regret writing any of this and probably delete this post. Because I'm supposed to take it and not say anything.

My Sims are the only thing that gives me any comfort anymore. Even then, I don't have the energy or attention span to do the things I want. I'm just as irrelevant on Simblr as I am in real life. If I disappeared tomorrow, nobody would notice.

[crying-fantasies]

Radiation exposure

Masterlist

Humanity has been exposed to radiation way before our own existence or evolution, we receive radiation waves from Earth's core, from outer space and many other sources, of course, humans can only tolerate so much of either of those, living in the surface away from the core and under the atmosphere, away from real and unfiltered space radiation.

Still, it's healthy, deep space travelers must return to Earth or a atmosphere similar planet every 10 or so years even with the most advanced gadgets, deep under sea travelers too, there is just so much that technology can do for a living human in order to stay healthy and not have health realted problems.

Cybertronians are technological living mechanisms and so, they are a curious mixture of electric related radiation and outer space radiation, of course cybertronians have compensated the exposure to hard environments more than once in their lengthy existence as a race, their protection being one of the best in all galaxy.

Humans, sometimes, have negative reactions to cybertronians' radiation, mostly due to large times of exposure, presenting health problems related to low level exposure of radiation.

These kind of cases are related, curiously, to relationship between them, as it has been deeply noticed humans that live fairly well and harmoniously with cybertronians tend to have very little to none problems, while the ones that show aggressive behavior towards them present almost all the symptoms, while this is still a heavy and complicated topic among the scientific community some psychologists bring up the idea that it must be caused by their own almost physical psique, being the cybertronian EMF working as some kind of shield for humans.

"I don't think so", USFA master sergeant, Robert Epps, gave his own insight, "I work with all these guys regularly and never had even a flu", he then looked behind him, "Hey! Topspin! Twin Twist!", both jumpstarters looked back at him and then to the camera, "do you guys have your EMF on me?"

Both bots looked at each other before the oldest said "umm... no?", then doing a face, "not right now?"

Is yet to be adequately described, but scientifically there's certainly something to it.

Most cybertronians don't just lay out say it, since for them is normal to flare or regress their EMF at will, their youngest being a little more expressive with it, but it appears to be quite normal to use it, in their own words, to keep a track on tiny humans, "if we don't do it we can't know where they are" Twin Twist explained a little, "we aren't looking at the floor all the time, so it's good to have it a little more active to not have an accident".

Topspin adds, "but if it has good things going for them, that's good, right?"

In the worst case scenario, there is the necessity to consume KI tablets, which are largely distributed in anti-cibertronian or overall hostile areas.

When asked the inhabitants of this places, they just answered with basic answers as them, humanity, to be the only real residents of Earth and for the aliens to go back where they came from, even referring to the other humans in contact with the aliens as "traitors of the species".

More research is going to be done, but so far, the different effects of exposure seem to be guided unconsciously by protective or anger like feelings.

[unreeled]

In a Violent Nature

And the Deep Breaths Between Horrors.

(This article can also be found on my Substack).

It happens a number of times within the film. Facing a choice or a disappointment, Johnny’s shoulders rise and fall in the act of taking a single deep, distinct breath. Then he’ll move, towards the next goal or the sound of muffled voices off in the woods, with a slow gait and little sense of urgency. It’s as if he knows it’s a long walk, but that he’ll get there eventually. Watching the film, you take that walk with him. If there was ever a horror movie to give you time to breathe, In a Violent Nature is it. Set in a remote, woody area of northern Ontario, it’s the story of a group of teens who remove a locket from a rotting fire tower and re-awake the violent entity that it was keeping dormant. And this time, the camera is solely focused on the undead monster that claws itself out of the earth to track them down and slaughter them. 

There’s a certain kind of bravery in making a slasher film that takes its time to move from one stunt to the next, as the classic slasher fan may find themselves bored by the long periods of time spent engrossed in the simple wild. And it’s brave to make a contemplative, slow-burn horror film into a slasher, as the arthouse fan might find the premise too simple. A fan of both, or someone who walks into the theater simply knowing what to expect, will find something clever, thoughtful, and eerie. One standout element of the film is found in its sense of choreography; despite a lack of musical score, there is a rhythm to the entire film. Johnny’s heavy, lumbering steps. The repeated swing of an ax, the perfect way in which the characters move around each other in order to catch or miss a glimpse of one another. Some of its best moments are when you realize that you- and Johnny- can see the next victim up ahead, but they remain oblivious.

In many ways, this film is a spectacle. Shot with a 3:4 aspect ratio and making full use of the Canon EOS C70’s Super 35mm Sensor, In A Violent Nature couldn't be more gorgeous. For a horror film, there is no shying away from daylight or color. Every detail of the landscape found in northern Ontario is laid out for the viewer to take in, from the distant, rolling mountains to the bright greens and yellows of the forest itself. Night time scenes are shot with minimal lighting gear, as the crew attempted to minimize what they would need to move through the location, which creates perfectly stark contrasts between bonfires, porch lights, and the inky darkness of the woods beyond. You are always immersed in this place. Of the look of the film, director Chris Nash says they wanted to create an environment “where you almost feel the threat of being alone in the woods by itself, without a big, old monster man with an axe hunting you down.”

This effect is honed in on in the lack of a musical score. The only thing you hear in the film is what Johnny hears. The crunch and brush of leaves, the flow of water, the whistle of birds. The revving of a truck, the distant argument between the cast of survivors, and muffled music coming from the radio inside their cabin. Or, of course, the crunch of bone. 

Word-of-mouth says that in the screenings of this film, audience members vomited from the gore. It’s an age-old rumor that accompanies any film with a body count, but it might be understandable, if true. With a director like Nash- who has a slightly longer history in special effects than he does directing- the film could only turn out adequately gory. The kills are brutal, disgusting, sometimes absurd, and a fantastic time all the way through. Anyone with an appreciation for the practical side of gory special effects will get a kick out of the moments that Johnny settles on a weapon and gets to work. 

The other joy of In a Violent Nature is in its performances. Caught only through brief glimpses of stories around the campfire or conversations out on a dock, the core cast of survivors (played by Andrea Pavlovic, Cameron Love, Liam Leone, Lea Rose Sebastianis, Alexander Oliver, Charlotte Creaghan, and Sam Roulston) share an incredible chemistry that instantly gives a sense of their relationships and their corresponding parts to play in the slasher narrative. The roles filled by Timothy Paul McCarthy, Lauren-Marie Taylor, and Reese Presley are no less fantastic when they step onto the scene, conveniently looking elsewhere until it’s their time to face down Johnny. 

And speaking of Johnny, Ry Barrett never says a word in the role, but never does the character fall flat. There are sparks of personality hidden underneath his mannerisms, from the things that catch his curiosity to the casual way he slings an ax. The way he carries himself is both imposing and perfectly natural-- for him, if not for anyone else. Barrett was recast in the role after the previous star had to step back, and a large chunk of the film had to be reshot. Nash states in an interview for Points of Reviews that there was an initial belief that, because the character is in costume and rarely viewed from an onwards angle, that some of these shots could be worked together, but that wasn’t wholly the case. He says, “There are so many things with the performance that are important, in just how they carry themselves, the gait of their walk, just the weight of their footfalls.” That importance shows through in the final cut of the film, which is a phenomenal piece of performance on the part of Barrett. 

In a Violent Nature is, in many ways, exactly what it calls itself. The concept of a slasher film from the slasher’s point of view might be a simple one, but in its execution, it becomes a standout piece of filmmaking. The care put into every second of its runtime shows through in a viewing experience that will leave you looking a little closer at the woods you drive through on your way home from the theater; partly because they’re beautiful, and partly because you never know what they could hide. 

-

Some articles referenced in this review (that I recommend reading!):

In a Violent Nature Film Review (with Director Chris Nash)

Sundance: DP Pierce Derks on In a Violent Nature

Sundance Slasher In a Violent Nature puts Northern Ontario Front and Center

[ceasarslegion]

All the people clowning on that post are ridiculous.

You are not wrong. You are absolutely correct. Living with actual health hazards (there is rotting food on the floor and mildewing clothes) is very different than "I have a mountain of clean clothes that aren't put away cause my depression has been really bad the last few weeks so my room is messy or I can't sit on the left side of the couch". If you can go to work then you can take a day or a half-day off once a month and clean up after yourself for the betterment of yourself and your symptoms. Part of getting better and improving your situation and health (both physical and mental) is doing the work (which YES is hard) to actually care for your body and lived environment.

We talk about other people enabling us to continue bad habits and harmful behaviors but we don't talk enough about the things we do to ourselves. Which are just as if not MORE important. So thank you for saying that! It matters and people need to hear uncomfortable truths!

And anyone who read that post and took personal issue with it because they actually live like that and it made them immensely uncomfortable because of their own shame around it which you literally (and I can't stress this enough) have nothing to do with needs to reevaluate their situation and accept that they can't live without a caretaker because they're at a point in their life where they can't adequately meet their own basic needs. If someone can't legally do it to a child (providing only unclean clothing, biohazard-filled living space, spoiled food, unclean dishes to eat it with, etc.) without it being abused/neglect, then they are not meeting their own needs and I understand that it might hurt to hear that, but it's the truth and it's a disservice to everyone to not say it. If people aren't saying it, then no one knows where the line is that says "if you cross this you need help and you need it NOW".

So, thank you for making that post even though people are losing their minds over it. I'm sure it's hard to hear that you're not doing a good enough job, but sometimes that needs to be said and, yes, they might not be doing a good enough job BECAUSE of a disability or other issues but that changes literally nothing. It's still not good enough and it can be improved only by them intentionally trying to improve it. Dancing around stuff like this and trying to say nothing that will upset/bother/hurt anyone is genuinely a disservice.

10/10 post. Hope you're getting reasonable breaks from the ridiculousness that everyone is throwing at you ❤️ sorry everyone is taking it in SUCH bad faith

^^^ thank you for being the first person who knows how to read

It's. Frustrating. It's so frustrating how absolutely no one wants to take responsibility for themselves the moment it gets hard. The moment it gets uncomfortable they shut down and scream that you're being ableist for asking an adult to take responsibility for themselves even if they have a mental illness.

The thing is, life IS harder when you have a disability, mental or otherwise. But guess what? That is never going to change. The world will not stop for you just because it's unfair. There is no point in kicking your feet and pouting that it's unfair that you have to do more work than that neurotypical person to keep yourself clean and healthy because nobody did that TO you, it just is. And like, life is unfair to everybody. That is the one universal thing we all experience. Sorry I guess?

I also just like, can not stand how people flip their absolute shit the moment I stop talking to them like little kids. I didn't baby them or coo and go "uwu it's okay if you have mold in your house!" so they immediately took me saying "youre an adult, you need to act like one. Idgaf if you're depressed there are still responsibilities you have towards yourself now" as me denying their mental illness and on par with "have you tried not being sad?"

And like dude, if you can't even handle that from some guy online, I shudder to think of how developmentally behind they are from no ones fault but their own. They talk about mental illness like it makes them forever children unable to ever take any responsibility for themselves, and anyone who points out that no, you're still an adult whether you're sick or not and adulthood comes with certain responsibilities as an attack against them. So they attack back even though nobody swung at them, or even said anything they accused me of saying or implying.

And it's infuriating to those of us who actually made the effort. It's infuriating as someone who fought through all the bs that mental illness comes with in order to get better. It doesn't mean I don't struggle, or that I'm somehow cured, and I never once said that cleaning your room would cure your depression btw, but there is a fine line between struggling with your symptoms and letting them win.

And im so fucking sick of anti-recovery rhetoric. How often do you see someone get dog piled with "WHY ARE YOU CLASSIST YOU SHITTY WEALTH HOARDER YOU SAID THAT MEDICATION AND THERAPY HELPS BUT IM POOR YOU THINK IM A BAD PERSON FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO AFFORD IT"