#oh btw answering any asks further from this will probably just be inviting y’all to see how little I am aware of what things are

[catzgam3rz]

Ah welcome new honorary American/ j

Oh sweet know I can finally learn what the fabled “pep rally” and “homecoming” are (they are in the same vein as icecream truck in terms of being real to me I guess)

[neicywrts]

Sis. Who tf else would I be here for?? [ dream ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare [ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger [ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine || reverse any you want btw

@iraclemayrps

otp: in real life 

[ dream ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare | reverse

For the past couple of days, she’d been having the same dream. Ryan knew before getting pregnant that sometimes the hormones could cause…vivid dreams. She thought that maybe she would be an exception, since she had a rather smooth first and second trimester. But the third trimester of her pregnancy tested her strength. 

It started out the same every time. 

She was in a labor and delivery room at the hospital because her water broke in the middle of the night. Her husband was next to her, holding her hand and smiling. Her parents were on the other side, smiling and being surprisingly supportive. She was only dilated four inches but the nurses said everything looked great. But Ryan felt like something was off. She couldn’t feel her child. Throughout her pregnancy she could tell when her child was up, when she was asleep, and when she was restless. Overall, she could tell her baby was going to be active. She felt Zaina grow inside of her for nine months like a constant weight. But sitting in that delivery room, she felt…empty.  Over and over again she told the nurses and doctors that something was wrong, but they didn’t listen to her, saying that everything was fine. She tried to calm down. Maybe she was overacting. Maybe her nerves were getting the best of her. Taking a deep breath, she decided to take her doctor’s advice and drifted off to sleep. 

Gasping awake, she grabbed her side, where a sharp pain was spreading up her spine. That’s when she felt it. A warm liquid between her legs. Ryan ripped the white knit blanket off her legs. The large pool of blood beneath her was all the confirmation she needed. 

The scream she let out in her dream was the same scream that woke her from it. In her bed, not in labor and delivery. Sweaty and heart racing, she patted her swollen stomach. “Hey,”  Tariq sat up, his dark hair messy and his voice heavy with sleep. She turned to her husband with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. It wasn’t the first time she woke up screaming. “You had that dream again?” He asked, and she nodded. “Its okay. She’s okay,” he put his hand on her swollen stomach. Shakily, she lifted her hand and put it next to his. Ryan let out a deep breath when she felt her baby move, a small smile pulling at her lips. Maybe her scream woke her daughter up as well. “I don’t know why I keep having that dream. Maybe because it’s so close to the time.” Tariq’s hand rubbing small circles on her back further soothed her. He kissed the side of her head before getting up from the bed. “I’ma get you some ice cream,” because he always knew what she needed. Ryan smiled and laid back down, her hand caressing her stomach.  

 [ guard ] or your muse to step between my muse and “danger”

The trader joe’s on gold street was hell on earth, but the only place in the city where she could get dark chocolate orange sticks and crunchy broccoli bites. Being pregnant made the five o’clock crowd even more irritable. Tariq could sense it. He put his hand on her lower back while she pushed the cart—only because she insisted—through the aisle to get to one of the ridiculously long lines. Before her third trimester, she was okay with standing in long lines like these. She even prepared for it; queuing up her favorite podcast, or finding something interesting to read on her phone while she waited. But with her ankles on swole, her breast heavy and sore, and having to pee almost every five minutes, she did not have the patience. 

Ryan was turned around and facing Tariq, while his back was towards the crowd of shoppers. He didn’t notice the lady moving way too fast with her shopping cart and looking down at her phone, coming straight for him, but Ryan did. Stepping around him, she nudged the shopping cart out of the way before it could hit him. “Excuse you, get off your phone. You could hit someone,” Ryan snapped when the lady looked up at her. The lady’s eyes bulged, probably not used to being spoken to like that. “Woah, sorry, but it’s not that big of a deal,” the lady responded, looking genuinely confused. Ryan’s bitch switch flipped. “Not that big of a deal? You almost ran my husband over with your basket because you ain’t payin’ attention!” Said husband was trying to put himself in between Ryan and the lady, probably sensing his wife’s temper, but Ryan stepped around him again. The lady screwed her face up, “you need to calm down.” Perhaps she didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to tell a pregnant woman to calm down, but she was about to find out why you shouldn’t. “Oh no, I don’t need to do shit, but you need to—”

“Okayyy, baby stop,” Tariq had managed to pull her back in front of him and away from the lady who was five seconds away from meeting the back of Ryan’s hand. She didn’t even realize that she had began walking towards the lady once she told her to calm down. Knowing what was good for her, the lady rolled her eyes and walked off with her cart. Ryan eyed her until she couldn’t see her anymore. “As sexy as I find you getting all H-Town Hottie on somebody over me, you can’t fight while you’re pregnant,” he said, still holding her arm but looking like he wanted to laugh. Ryan’s lips pulled into a small smile, rolling her eyes at her husband. “I wasn’t gonna fight her…I was just gonna smack her.” 

[ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine 

Whenever she visited her hometown of Houston, Texas, she always tried to link up with her favorite five cousins. Ryan is an only child, but her Aunt Jacklyn had three daughters and two sons back to back, and they grew up thick as thieves. They endured church choir, Sunday school, Wednesday bible study, and every other family outing together while also going to the same schools k-12. The hardest part about moving clean across the country when she got engaged to James was leaving them. They were the only ones who were absolutely supportive of her relationship with Tariq, and the only family she actually enjoyed being around for a long period of time. They welcomed Tariq with open arms, and even invited him to their tradition of karaoke at Kibby’s on Saturdays. Ryan hadn’t been in ages and couldn’t believe that her cousins still went to the bar they had been going to since she was young. It was impossible for her to say no, even if she knew she would end up embarrassing herself in front of her husband and other friends. He teased her on the car ride to the bar, and she laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not singing tonight, so you’re not even gonna get the chance to record me, you jerk.” 

Not many people knew Ryan had a secret love for 90s r&b, another thing she and her husband had in common. Anita Baker, En Vogue, After 7 and Toni Braxton (and of course Adina Howard’s Do You Wanna Ride but that’s not the vibe right now) were a few of her favorite secular artist that she had to sneak and listen to while she was growing up. Her parents didn’t keep that type of music in their house, but her Aunt Jacklyn did. Whenever Ryan went to her house, and she and her cousins were left alone, they would sneak into her CD stash. They even choreographed dance routines to almost every song on En Vogue’s Funky Divas album. 

After a few tequila sunrises that were definitely missing the sunrise, her cousins Mary, Lynette, and Keisha bullied her into doing a song with them. “No, no, y’all, I’m not doing it!” she protested. “Like hell you not. It’s been years, Ry, c’mon,” Keisha said. They pulled her up and out of her seat anyway, dragging her to the makeshift stage at the front of the bar. Ryan looked back at her husband, who was grinning and cheering along with the crowd. She shook her head, but smiled. “What song are we even doing?” Her question was answered when she heard the first few notes of Giving Him Something He Can Feel. Their favorite song, and one of the few songs she used to sing lead on when they were making up dances. Ryan threw her head back and laughed. “Y’all, I don’t remember the steps,” she said while simultaneously getting into formation. 

What happened after that, she blames on the liquor. Although she complained about knowing the steps, they sure did come to her pretty quick. She and her cousins had the whole bar carrying on, but her eyes were trained on Tariq the whole time, a sultry smile playing on her lips. At one point, she broke off from the group. Sauntering over, she stopped in front of him, one hand feeling down her body while she slowly twirled her hips in a circle. That really got the party going, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the look on her husband’s face. They finished their routine with a standing ovation. Ryan sat back down next to her husband, red in the face and hot. “That’s the first and last time you see that routine,” she laughed.