#anyway. okay. leaving it here.

[astrxealis]

okay rambles but i started creatively writing in like ... 5th grade? and. oh god just a little encouragement to anyone looking to get into writing or insecure or whatnot, but HELLS, maybe it's to he expected with my (obviously) very young age and inexperience with writing then, but my writing was really. yeah. Yeah. but then i'm what... a lot older now, obviously, and my writing has gotten leagues better. i'm probably not a good example for this bcs childhood years development stuff are different etc etc BUT practicing writing more and whatnot really does go a long way :]

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

A gentle and I hope kind reminder:

It makes just as much sense to not have a significant other and kids as an adult as it does to have them, whether you're talking about real life or writing characters.

The submas fandom is chock full of aro and/or ace people, so of course a large amount of people prefer to not go the amatonormative nuclear family route with characters whose home lives are a blank slate.

It doesn't "not make sense" and I again kindly ask anyone who thinks being alone or living with family or solely having platonic relationships as an adult is weird or a crazy idea to think about why they feel like that.

Having a partner isn't "probable," in real life or fiction, just because someone's sexuality or status is unknown.

Everyone is allowed to choose whatever sexuality and relationship status they want for characters, please just be mindful about how you speak about certain concepts okay? Characters can have no opinion on how things are written but real aro and/or ace people do, and it doesn't feel very good to read stuff like this.

[moe-broey]

Technically this is the second part to something else but I feel bad the og sketch still gets notes every now and again LMFAOO so as I'm in between projects. I have some ideas for Alcryst Forging Bonds whenever he's added to FEH 👁️👁️

[seorikkun]

stray kids x panic! at the disco

london beckoned songs about money written by machines

[samsrosary]

thesis drawing for my killer!cas au

[snekdood]

yall are willing to die for trans women and not trans men and we should talk about it actually

[jackals-ships]

"Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath, we bestow it now to you, Dragonborn, in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."

"The Nordic aspect of Talos. He withstood the power of the Greybeards' voices long enough to hear their prophecy. Later, many Nords could not look on him without seeing a dragon."

thinking about.....dragonborns with borrowed-stolen divinity..........

insert uses they/them

[hella1975]

11pm in manchester airport plane landed at 10pm after being DELAYED AND ANNOYING AND EVERYTHING WRONG WITH RYANAIR for over an hour. when is my train home from this godforsaken city you ask? 5am. good job im stuck in arrivals where there are no coffee shops or even regular charging ports haha. so glad to be spending the next six hours sat by the squeaky baggage claim machine. thank god my mum was sympathetic about it right haha… right????

[last-in-line-for-hell]

Sometimes I think about the long term side effects that could have happened to Wei Wuxian after being strangled by Jiang Cheng and my heart aches at how he just laid there and accepted it

[chewed-gum-87]

h🐜ey guys welc🐜ome back🐜🐜 to my yout🐜ube channe🐜🐜l🐜 to🐜day🐜🐜 hold up🐜 who 🐜ke🐜eps put🐜ti🐜ng th🐜ese🐜🐜 a🐜nts h🐜🐜er🐜e hel🐜lo🐜🐜??

*🐜🐜pu🐜ts an🐜t tra🐜🐜🐜p🪤🐜🐜*

o🐜kay ho🐜🐜pefu🐜lly they'll lea🐜ve now

AN🐜YWAY

oh wow🐜🐜 they're le🐜aving so quickly

what the hell

maybe I shoul🐜d check on the trap

🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🪤🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜

HOLY S

[solarmorrigan]

Guys I can’t stop thinking about Steve with OCD

(The following deals heavily with anxiety and with themes of OCD, so please keep that in mind and skip this one if you’re worried that’ll trigger your own anxiety <3)

At first, it’s manageable. Hardly worth thinking about.

Steve's always taken pride in his appearance; no shame in wanting to look good. It's just a part of his routine: picking the right outfit, making sure everything is clean and in good condition, making sure his hair is just right. He even has a set routine specifically for doing his hair – specific products, a specific number of spritzes with the hairspray, a specific look.

And if it's not just right, he might have to redo it, yeah – it just... feels weird if he gets it wrong. He spends the whole day feeling off. Anxious. Sort of itching under his skin, for reasons he really can't articulate. It's just– it has to be right, that's all

(He hadn’t thought anyone noticed that his morning routine made him perpetually late—and even later when he messed something up and had to redo it—until Robin mentions Mrs. Click’s class the summer after he’s graduated.)

It doesn't start becoming a hindrance until after his first meeting with the demogorgon.

Before that, it had been okay if his morning routine didn't go just right. It wasn’t great, and he hadn't liked it, but he could get on with his day. After that encounter, though – it gets harder.

Everything else seems totally out of control, but his appearance? He can do that. He can control that, but it needs to be just right. If he gets it wrong, he needs to start over. If he doesn't have the time, it throws him off entirely.

He finds himself nearly in tears one morning as he drives to pick Nancy up, running horribly behind because his alarm hadn't gone off and he hadn't had the time to shower and do his hair properly, he hadn't grabbed anything to eat, he hadn’t done anything right, but he couldn't stop to do it all because he’s supposed to get Nancy to school, and– and–

He berates himself for having become this weak, emotional mess. What the fuck is his problem?

He's pretty sure he manages to get his head on straight by the time Nancy gets into the car, giving him a look that’s equal parts irritation and curiosity over why he’s kept her waiting.

He doesn’t offer an explanation.

And it's normal that he'd want his house to be clean, right? After getting into trouble with his parents for that party (after that party went so horribly wrong, resulting in Barb's death), he'd been on thin ice for a while. They’d wanted to come back to a perfect house. Nothing out of place, no messes, no evidence that Steve had had a party (or that he'd had friends over, or—god forbid—enjoyed himself in any way while they were gone). So Steve develops a routine for that, too.

It feels natural: make sure things are done a certain way in a certain order, because he tends to forget things otherwise, and make sure it's all done right.

(And if it's not right, just do it again. Do it over again. Make sure it's done in the right order, make sure it's done right. Do it again.)

This maybe results in being late to a few dates, or some lost sleep, or some homework ignored, but whatever. Steve's got it under control.

Subsequent meetings with the Upside Down just seem to make things worse

He's an athlete (or he had been, anyway), and athletes can be superstitious, right? They have little rituals for good luck. Nothing weird about that. Nothing weird about Steve needing to tap the roof of his car three times before getting in. He's driving kids around now, he needs to make sure they stay safe, and tapping the roof of the car– it's– Steve can't really explain it, it just has to be done, so they don't get into any kind of crash. It's not weird, and he can stop doing it if he really wants to, he just doesn't want to.

(He doesn't want to because the few times he’d tried driving without doing it, he'd been so fucking anxious he'd nearly crashed just because he'd been so jumpy about other people on the road. But that's his business.)

His list of chores around the house grows, even though his parents no longer comment on the state of things (or really talk to him much at all). It's just that he needs it all to be right. Things need to be in the right places, things need to be organized properly, so Steve knows where everything is just in case he or anyone else needs it.

(This isn't to say that it always makes sense. A box of cereal lives exclusively on the counter, rather than in the pantry, because that's where the box of cereal needs to be. Steve can't put it away because it belongs on the counter. If he eats it all, he makes sure he already has another to replace it. He'd almost yelled at Dustin once for putting the box back in the pantry after using it, because it doesn't go in the pantry, it goes on the fucking counter, that's just where it goes.)

He snaps at Robin once or twice when she tries to take over any of his usual closing duties at Scoops Ahoy, which definitely doesn't endear him to her, even if he doesn't really mean to do it, it's just that it's what he usually does, and he needs to make sure it's done right. He's not doubting her ability, he just... needs to make sure for himself.

(By the time they hit Family Video together, Robin is used to it. She leaves him to whatever closing duties he's decided are his and even reminds him sometimes where he is in his routine when he spaces out or has trouble thinking straight through a headache, saving him the trouble of having to restart to make sure it's all done. Sometimes he restarts anyway, because he needs to be sure, but he appreciates that she pays attention.)

There are nights when he can't sleep, when he needs to make sure everyone is alright, when he'll get into his car and make a circuit around town, driving past everyone's house just to make sure nothing is amiss.

There are bad nights when he needs to make the circuit three times: the first time to check, the second time to be sure he hadn't missed anything the first time, and the third time to make sure the first two times weren't a fluke. He taps the roof of his car when he gets in, and now he does it three times when he gets out – can't hurt to be careful, right?

But it isn't a problem. None of this is a problem, it's just the way Steve deals with things. It's not a problem, it's not a problem, it's not a problem. Not at all.

It’s not a problem until he's meant to be meeting Robin and Eddie for a movie, when he's made it halfway down the street before wondering if he'd checked that the stove was off.

He's pretty sure he had, but what if he hadn't? He'd used it this morning to make breakfast. It might still be on. He has to check.

He pops a U-turn and heads back home. He'll just check the stove real quick and then get going.

Except once he's back in the house, he has to check everything else before he can leave. Check the stove, check that his hair dryer is unplugged, check that there’s a light on in every room (lights are important, lights are a warning, and Steve cannot come back to a dark house), check that all the windows are locked, check the back door, check that the front door is locked properly, check that his bat is in the trunk. Tap the roof of the car, start it up, pull out of the driveway – is the hair dryer unplugged?

He's pretty sure it is, he knows he checked it, but had he really been paying attention? Is he sure?

He's back in the driveway, back in the house, before he's even really conscious of making the decision.

Check the stove, check the hair dryer, check the lights, check the windows, check the back door, check the front door – had he done all that in the right order? If he hadn't, he might have forgotten to do part of it. He'd better just–

Robin and Eddie find him sitting on the kitchen floor over an hour later, after he hadn't shown up, after he hadn't answered their calls (he'd been too busy checking things around the house to answer the phone).

He can't quite breathe right and he's not sure if he should be laughing or crying because he's realized that he can't leave the house. He can't leave, because he might have forgotten something, something might be out of place, and then something bad might happen. Bad things have happened already, and if more were to happen because of him—because he'd failed a step, failed to get everything right—he wouldn't be able to stand it.

So it's... a bit of a problem.

[gemel-dreamer]

I like to think Adora still gets flustered very easily...

Okaaaaaaay okay didn't actually thought I would receive any notes to my last post.. but here it is thank you for the motivation... It's actually been months since my last fanart, I intended to do just a sketch but really liked how it turned out so added more color to it...

...also did I just change Adora's dress? Yes I did, thought it would be fun

[thasorns]

—  Sue Zhao

[skateisawesome]

at what point is an intro post necessary?

OH WELL HERE IT IS!

my name on here is skate, im a minor, im a girl, i use she/her pronouns and i have no idea what im doing!!

im in highschool so im a busy girl and i will complain about school

some fun facts about me are: i play 6 instruments and sing, i like reading, my favourite season is winter, i speak a fair amount of french and italian and i can crochet.

im also mentally funky so just prepare yourself for that!

most of my posts are about osemanverse but i love taylor swift and will not shut up about her. i am in a pitch perfect phase at the moment so expect some of that too and mostly i post whatever else pops into my head at the time.

my asks are open and i love answering literally anything and if you ask a question ill probably fall in love with you or smth

my tags are 'skate has words' for my writing 'skate answers' for answering asks and 'skate rants!' for rants obviouslyyyy

also my messages are open and, yes, i am extremely awkward, i would LOVE to be friends !!

im very infrequent on here and will sometimes forget tumblr exists for weeks so im never ignoring you im just stupid and i have memory issues

if youre gonna be mean to pretty much anyone i dont really want you here.

especially if youre gonna be racist, homophobic, transphobic, an ableist or just generally an asshole.

anyway have a good day !! :)

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello birdie 🖤✨

I've got something for the Life Interrupted AU.

Thena isn't feeling well lately and is considering to go back into this hellhole where she's getting drugged to unconsciousness. She's packing her stuff when Gil shows up. He's trying to talk it out of her.

(And I definitely didn't had this Idea because I'm stuck in one of those hellholes, lol)

✨🖤Hugs an Love🖤✨

"Going somewhere?"

Thena sighed, setting down one of her shirts and staring down at her bed. "I was thinking about it."

Gil walked further into her room, having just arrived. "Druig texted me. Really surprised me to hear from him, but he said you've been acting weird--wants me to 'talk to some sense into you'."

Thena let out a humourless chuckle. "I'm surprised he decided to entrust you with that task."

"Gotta say, I am too," Gil agreed quietly until he was standing behind her. "I have to agree--you seem a little anxious lately."

She had been nervous, jumpy, and Gil knew it. They hadn't been able to go out on a date in weeks because she felt on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of having to navigate crowds or risk running into someone. "Maybe...maybe I should consider-"

"Don't," he whispered, placing his hand gently over hers. Her bag was already half full. "Don't say you're going back to that place."

Thena squeezed her eyes shut, tears already burning the insides of them. "Where should I go, Gil?"

"Anywhere else," he concluded. He pulled her hand away from packing up as if she were sailing off into the horizon. He moved slowly and gently until he could sit on the chair in the corner of her room and look up at her. "Please, Thena, just talk to me."

When he was seated lower, she had no excuse not to look at him. But she stared down at his hands, holding hers so, so gently. "Druig and Makkari have been looking at places again."

Gil raised his brows. "That...that's good...right?"

It was. It was what she wanted. She wanted their lives to continue on after the ugliness of the last year. She wanted her brother to feel free to settle down and marry the love of his life. And he could do that without worrying about his sister, she was determined.

"He keeps asking me to see them," she admitted quietly, as if Druig had his ear pressed against the door and would be wounded by overhearing her. "He keeps picking rooms that he says can be mine--if I so choose."

"So," Gil prompted, giving her hands a little squeeze, "what's so bad about that?"

Thena shook her head, looking up around the ceiling of her room to keep her tears from falling. "I'm not some child he has to drag around with him. He should be choosing a home to suit him and his wife, not worrying about his burdensome sister."

"Come on," Gil whispered, his eyes drifting downward from the sheer weight of Thena's discouragement. "You know he doesn't think of you like that."

Thena sighed, pulling her hands from Gil's and plopping herself on the corner of her bed. She pressed them to her head, trying to keep them from shaking. "I know he doesn't. That is exactly the problem."

"Okay, so you don't want him worrying about you," Gil shrugged, turning in the chair to face her head on again.

Thena stared down at her knees. She wasn't wearing her work dress and stockings with a tight ponytail. But she couldn't bring herself to wear soft sweatpants anymore, opting for athleisure leggings and a cardigan at even her most comfortable.

"What else?"

She toyed with her fingernails. "I don't want to live here alone."

Gil nodded again, leaning back in the chair.

She hunched over herself more, despite her sore back. "It's not about the cost, it's...I can't be here by myself, thinking all these...things."

"Okay, so we'll find somewhere else for you," Gil leapt at the opportunity to suggest an alternative. He leaned forward again, even scooching toward the edge of the seat. "I'll help you look."

She smiled, although she still wasn't feeling the intent behind the action. "Druig offered the same. Even Makkari--but that's not the point."

Gil seemed to understand what she was getting at. And of course he did, it was Gil. He was sweet, and understanding, and he always seemed to know what she was trying to say, even if she didn't have the words. "You want to find a place for yourself."

She sighed, looking at her hands again. "I don't seem capable of anything these days."

Gil took her hands in his again, rubbing his thumb over her skin. "You know that's not true."

She wasn't as sure as he was. She never was--never had his confidence, or positivity. It was something she both envied and admired about him. She loved it about him. "Maybe-"

"No!"

She blinked, taken aback by his outburst. He was always so soft spoken, especially with her. She had never heard him so much as raise his voice. The only things he did loudly were laughing and sneezing.

"Maybe nothing!" he pressed, standing from the chair. "That place never did you any good. I don't think it does anyone any good! And I will not let you go back to that misery!"

Thena's eyes fluttered, her back straightening. Her heart began to squeeze at the sheer volume of things, but this was Gil--she was safe with him.

"Thena," he finally quieted again, kneeling in front of her. "You never have to go back to that place, okay? I don't care if you have a nervous breakdown--I'll take care of you. I'll take better care of you than they ever would in there. Just--just promise me you won't go back there because you're worried about burdening people."

She blinked, those tears she was trying to hold back finally falling. It was completely dark outside, her small bedside lamp offering minimal lighting. But it caught Gil's features in just such a way that made him seem so beautiful. "I don't want to go back there."

"Good," he nodded, turning her hand so he could press his lips to it.

"But," she gasped, her lip wobbling. She clung to him. "But what if I'm not me, anymore?"

"You're exactly who you need to be," he said without a hint of doubt in his voice. "You're Thena."

So completely unwavering, her Gilgamesh.

"You're my Thena," he repeated, softer this time, kissing the back of her other hand before pulling her up to stand with him. His hands slipped around waist to rest at her back. "That's all you need to be."

She wasn't sure who 'Thena' was, at times. At least, not as she knew herself before all this. Gil kept saying that the past year was a part of her, for better or worse. But she just wanted to leave it behind--to revert to the version of her that had existed before it all.

"Look," he whispered, still holding her so gently. "Maybe that's easy for me to say. I didn't know you before. But the Thena I know is pretty damn amazing."

She let another laugh, still not humoured in the least.

"She is," he chuckled, though, and he did mean it. He leaned closer, touching his forehead to hers. "She's this badass translator, works in a big, fancy office. She's actually pretty funny, if she's in a good mood. Kinda likes messing with me."

"I do not."

"Just a little," he contested, scrunching up his nose faintly. "But I think that side of her is cute. And she's tough--way tougher than she thinks she is. And she's an incredible sister, even when her brother is being a pain in our ass."

"Our?" she interrupted.

"Our," he confirmed, touching the tips of their noses together to silence her. "And I know he's just worried about you. That's why he keeps saying you can stay with them if you want. But I guess he doesn't really know it's stressing you out."

Thena sighed, dragged back into the depths of her problems like plunging into ice cold water. "How do I tell him?"

Gil skipped over that question, still busy holding her, almost swaying as his weight shifted from foot to foot. "So, this Thena--I mean, to me, she's the most incredible woman in the world."

"Gil," she sighed, trying to pull him from his reverent description of her.

But he nudged her head until he could kiss her lips, also gently. As gently as everything else about him. "She's the woman I love, plain and simple."

Oh, did she ever love him. She had gone from being someone who probably didn't really believe in love for herself at all to being head over heels for her sweet, gentle giant.

She sighed as she kissed him again, leaning up on her toes to loop her arms around his neck. Kissing Gil always made her feel more human--more grounded and real. It took away the buzzing in her head and replaced it with with a heavy and pleasant sedative that could spread through her veins.

Gil stayed close, his forehead against hers, lips still faintly puckered. "Better?"

"Hm," she sighed. She didn't need to explain herself--not to him. She ran her fingers gently through the hair at the back of his head. If only she never had to go to work, or take public transport, or go to house viewings where the realtor would look at her oddly. If only she could stay in Gil's arms every second of every day.

"Good," he sufficed to say, tapping his fingers against the back of her sweater. He moved his hand to her hip. "So, about this living situation-"

"Right," she sighed the heaviest she had yet (which was saying something).

"Hey," he nudged her gently, pulling her eyes up to him. "A unit in my building is going on the market for next month. It's the one above mine--sweet old guy is moving out to be closer to his grand kids."

Oh. Living that close to Gil--being neighbours?

"I can always ask him if he'd be open to a lease trade-off," Gil suggested, although he was unable to hide his excitement at the prospect in his smile. "What do you think?"

Being that close to Gil? Being his upstairs neighbour?

His smile wobbled faintly, turning sheepish as he looked away. "It's a little more modest than this place. But it's a one bedroom, and it's not a bad location. And-"

Thena stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his, even with a cliche 'mmwah' sound. He looked dazed after the firmer kiss, which made her smile genuinely for the first time that night. She leaned against him heavier, but he steadied her without a second thought. "I think that sounds perfect."

"Really?" he asked, beaming like a dog about to receive a treat with a wagging tail.

She took his cheeks in her hands, "it sounds wonderful, Gil."

"O-Okay," he laughed, sounding near hysteria. But he pulled her against his chest in his arms, even lifting her off the ground slightly as he spun them. "This'll be amazing, sweetie, I promise!"

He needed no promises. The thought of having him a mere flight of stairs away was already comforting, in a sense. And she had been to his flat plenty of times. He was right, it was in a good location, and it wasn't any further from her office than she was now, all things considered.

Gil set her on her feet once more. "I'll talk to him tonight."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," she advised gently. It wasn't often she was able to offer a calming voice of reason these days; it felt familiar, even soothing. She toyed with some some stray hairs of his. "I may have to apply, like everyone else."

"Peh," Gil waved in dismissal again (making her laugh, again). "The old guy loves me. And that's before I tell him some sob story about wanting my girlfriend to move in so we can be closer."

Thena blushed softly, toying with the hem of her cardigan. Sometimes she had to remind herself that Gil wasn't just 'someone she was seeing', and actually the man she had known for more than half a year and had been dating for more than half that time, now.

"It'll be great," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "We can carpool to work, I'll be right downstairs if you ever wanna talk--or cuddle."

"Gil," she admonished, but it came out as a light and air whisper as he kissed her cheek again, his five o'clock shadow against her skin.

He stopped nuzzling her just to look at her more solemnly. "You should tell Druig."

"It was your idea."

"Exactly," Gil made a face, shrinking somewhat. "He'll kill me."

Thena rolled her eyes, her spirits lifting by the moment. "It's not as if you're offering to shack up with me yourself."

He didn't laugh at her joke. He didn't even seem to realise it was a joke, just shrugged one shoulder. "I mean they're both only one bedroom units. Plus, I imagine you want some space for yourself for a little. Feel like you have some more control?"

Well, he was exactly right about that, as always. Although she hadn't expected his rebuttal to be that they would need a larger space if they were to live together. She just blinked, "precisely."

"So it's decided," he grinned again, and gave her another kiss for good measure. "I'll go talk to Karun, you talk to Druig. He really is worried about you."

"I know," she mumbled, feeling properly chastised. She unlinked her hands from behind his head and squeezed his forearms. "I'm sure he was desperate to call you."

"And I'm suggesting you move into my building instead of in with him?--he's gonna have my head."

Thena laughed genuinely for the first time that night. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from him."

Gil stared at her in a way that made her toes curl. He bent his head down to sneak into the crook of her neck under her jaw. "I know you will."

She shivered as he left a kiss on her pulse point.

But he left it at that, pulling away and standing to his full height again. It left her feeling chilly, needing to pull her cardigan tighter around herself. "Okay."

Thena nodded, letting him take her by the hand. She did have to talk to Druig--about everything. About moving and also about how she would be okay without him hovering over her shoulder. She would be okay without that hell hole and its medication and she would be okay even if she felt like this different version of herself, possibly forever.

Gil grasped the doorknob with his other hand, the door not fully closed and letting in just a sliver of light from the rest of the house. He held her other hand, giving it a squeeze. "Ready?"

She nodded, holding his hand tighter, just in case she needed it. But she smiled, "ready."