#some of these out of context are just... LOL

[butyoudidthis4what]

Quiet Part 2

Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader

Part 1 can be found here!

23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related

Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.

AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”

You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 

You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 

By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 

When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.

Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 

“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”

“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”

“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 

Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”

“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 

“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”

You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”

Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 

He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 

You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.

You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 

Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 

You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”

“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 

You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 

Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”

“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”

He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”

“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 

Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 

He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 

“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”

“Really?” he whispers. 

“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”

Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”

“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”

Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”

Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 

He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”

“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”

“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”

“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”

“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 

He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 

“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”

Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 

“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 

“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 

Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 

He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 

You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 

You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 

The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 

His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 

Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 

You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”

The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”

Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 

“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 

It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.

And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”

He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 

You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 

“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 

It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 

“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.

There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 

You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 

“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.

“Yeah?”

“Will you kiss my forehead?”

His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 

He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”

“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”

He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.

Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 

You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”

Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”

You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 

Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”

“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 

Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 

“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”

Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”

You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”

Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 

“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”

“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 

“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”

“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 

It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 

You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 

“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 

“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”

He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 

Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  

You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 

Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 

He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 

It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 

It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 

As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 

The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 

He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 

No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 

He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 

But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  

While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.

Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 

What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 

As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 

Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 

No wedding ring. 

Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?

A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 

And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 

He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 

But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 

He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?

A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 

It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 

The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 

Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 

He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 

It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.

Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 

He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 

Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 

Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 

Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.

An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 

Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.

Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 

Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.

Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.

Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 

That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 

Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.

Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 

The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.

Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 

Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 

All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.

Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  

And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 

The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 

Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 

Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 

Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?

His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.

Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.

He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 

As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 

He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 

Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 

“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 

Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 

He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 

Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 

Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 

Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    

Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 

He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 

“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 

Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 

Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”

And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 

Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”

Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.

Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  

J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry

Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 

You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 

You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise

You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 

You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!

Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 

J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again

You reply quickly. 

You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 

A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 

You - You otherwise okay? 

Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 

J - Yeah, just been a day kind of

J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him

He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”

You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too

Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 

J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 

He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 

Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 

Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 

Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 

“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. ���How was your day?” 

“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.

Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 

You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 

“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 

Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 

Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 

“You took your wedding ring off.”

Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”

You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 

“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”

Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”

You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 

“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”

You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”

Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 

You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”

You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 

“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 

“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”

Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”

“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”

“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 

You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.

“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 

Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”

You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 

Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”

“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”

“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”

“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”

You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 

You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 

Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.

But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.

He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 

More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 

He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.

Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 

But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 

He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 

Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 

He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 

But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 

Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 

The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.

He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 

Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 

He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.

The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 

He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 

Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 

Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 

You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 

Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 

You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 

“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.

You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”

“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”

You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”

“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”

“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 

“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”

You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 

Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”

“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.

“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 

“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 

“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 

“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 

You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 

“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 

“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 

“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 

You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”

“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 

“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”

“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.

“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 

Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 

Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 

Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 

You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 

He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 

“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 

“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 

“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.

 “I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 

And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 

Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 

Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.

“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 

Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 

“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”

“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 

“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”

“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 

And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.

You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 

“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.

“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 

You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”

As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”

“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”

Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 

After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”

“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 

Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  

The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 

“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”

You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”

Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 

“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 

Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 

Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 

Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 

The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 

“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 

“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”

“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 

You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 

“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 

“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 

“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 

“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 

“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 

“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 

Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.

He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.

Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 

He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 

“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 

Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 

“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 

Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”

There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 

“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”

Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.

“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 

“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 

“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”

“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 

“Really?” Jack sighs. 

“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 

“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”

“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 

“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 

“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.

“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”

“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”

“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 

Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 

“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 

“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 

Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 

“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 

“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”

“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 

“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 

“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.

There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”

“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 

“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 

Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.

“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 

“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”

“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”

Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”

“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 

“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 

Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 

“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”

“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”

Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 

“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 

He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 

“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 

Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 

“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”

Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.

Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 

“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 

Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”

Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 

“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 

Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 

“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”

Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 

He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 

In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 

“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 

“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”

“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”

You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 

“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 

“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.

“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.

“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 

Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 

You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 

Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 

Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.

He’s putting the last of the dishes away.

“Hey Jack?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 

“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”

“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 

“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 

Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 

He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 

“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.

“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 

The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 

This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”

You nod at him. 

Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 

“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 

“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.

“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 

He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 

You nod at him. “Please.”

Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 

The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 

You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.

Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 

You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 

“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 

“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”

“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.

You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 

Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 

“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.

The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 

“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 

“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.

“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 

“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  

“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”

“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 

It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.

The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 

“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.

“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 

Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”

“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 

“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 

You giggle at him. “But you are.” 

You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 

Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 

He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.

But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.

Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂

Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!

Thank you for all your support and for reading!! ♥️

Want more Jack? Check out my masterlist here!

Want to be added to my Jack tag list? Interact with this post!

Tag list:

@loveyhoneydovey @love-affair-with-fandoms @mstrsgoodgrl0628 @equallyshaw @kmc1989 @artsymaddie @moonshooter @whiskeyhowlett-writes @smallcarbigwheels @hawkswildfireheart @blackwidownat2814 @viridian-dagger @andabuttonnose @beebeechaos @pear-1206 @starkgaryan @travelingmypassion @marvelcasey05 @daydreamingallthetime-world @millenialcatlady @nursejuju86 @escapefromrealitysm @emilia527 @satanxklaus @frazie99 @kastleandmurdock @guardiancardigan @zoctopiii @4rosabellaa @adissapointmentlol @nowandajenn @book-of-roses @redzscare @concentratedconcrete @freshbearbouquetblr @qardasngan @practicalghost @wolviehugh @athena1504 @a-stari-night @iamcryingonceagain @acn87 @moonpascal @lostfleurs @beltzboys2015-blog @pouges-world @tinyharrypotterkpopfriend @roseanddaggerlarry @lauraneedstochill @lex015 

[a-pesky-hologram]

I absolutely agree with this, however my autistic ass still made a List of how to optimally get Every Reference in the hopes of getting more people to watch it:

• Next Generation first: it has the best explanations and is what most of following series tie into

• Deep Space Nine second: chronologically the next/same time period as next generation, also context for voyager (the most interesting alien politics things)

• Voyager third: it ties into next generation and deep space nine but is largely unconnected (very fun found family also new quadrant!

• Original Series: it is chronologically before next generation and was the first and therefore least developed series (immaculate vibes tho, big contributor to fandom culture)

• Star Trek the animated series: basically just the original series but with wilder alien designs and animated lol (it’s a fun time, it let them do more ambitions things they couldn’t pull of with 60s/70s effects)

• 2011 (AOS): great special effects and lore. Set at same(ish, alternate universe) time as original

• Enterprise: it was the first series to happen chronologically and explains some inconsistencies that pop up because of the original series (I really enjoyed this one but it was sadly cut short, and is a bit more action-y that the 90’s treks)

• Discovery: it happens between enterprise and original, but brings in a lot of elements from 90s trek as well (fascinating lore but definitely new trek vibes)

• Picard: set the furthest (besides discovery??) in the future, for sure watch next generation through voyager before it (doesn’t have the same vibes as most of Star Trek but great nostalgia)

• Prodigy: set in delta quadrant (mostly) but in around the same timeframe as events from/surrounding Picard, and has a lot of characters from voyager and a few from TNG

• Lower decks: animated comedy and you won’t understand some of the jokes without the previous stuff, set during or soon after VOY, DS9, and TNG (love it, it’s super fun, tbh on it’s own it would be a great way to get into Star Trek as well)

• Strange new worlds: still coming out currently, set right before the original series and after discovery (it and lower decks have a crossover which is fun and they finally figured out how to get the Star Trek vibes again)

For anyone interested in getting into Star Trek but doesn't know the right place to start: There isn't one. Every place you could potentially start is the wrong place. That is the Star Trek experience. The only way to get into Star Trek is the wrong way. There is no right way. Wherever you start, you will find yourself lost, confused, disturbed, unsettled, baffled, and perhaps a bit turned on. This is normal. Congratulations, you are one of us now. I'm so sorry.

[tomikashii]

Hi! I was hoping you were open to doing a head canon for all the ghouls from Tokyo Debunker on how they'd react if MC ran a kissing booth for a special event? Who's getting in line, who's jealous and scolding them for doing so? How quickly do you think the booth would get shut down? 💀

tokyo debunker : ghouls reacting to MC running a kissing booth 💋

to anon! : OMG THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD IDEA ??? i had so much fun writing it & i hope that you have so much fun reading it 💗💗💗

⚠️ : maybe there is slight suggestive content ? so just to be safe, MINORS DNI

↘️ context : our favourite professor hyde had a genius idea of opening up a kissing booth on campus for a day & expects you to run it ! (it was for a valentine special in darkwick)

how would the ghouls react ?

frostheim

jin kamurai

shuts down the entire booth 😓

would even consider sueing whoever's idea was it (rip professor hyde)

when he found out you did it willingly, he pauses and calls you to his room. (you were never to be seen until the next day)

tohma ishibashi

actually waited in line as a joke and recieved your kiss on the cheek willingly with a smug smile on his face

shuts the kissing booth afterwards (but in secret)

teases you the next day, asking who are you going to kiss next 🤌🏻

kaito fuji

FIRST ONE IN LINE ☝🏻

was sweating buckets when you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

never washed his face afterwards (only washed it when you begged him too)

lucas errant

asked if you were okay with kissing random strangers on the cheek. when you reassured him, he leaned in for a kiss too.

after the short peck, he smiled warmly THEN HE RETURNED IT TO YOU ? 😩😩😩

sits from a distance to ensure that you were safe running your kissing booth (supportive king)

vagastrom

alan mido

“why do you want to do that ?” bro doesn't understand the concept of a kissing booth.

feels that its unsafe for you and would suggest to take down the kissing booth

internally wants you to give him a kiss on the cheek but its too serious and shy to say it. 🧍🏻‍♀️

leo kurosagi

HE IS IN LINE but says its for tiktok content

“supporting my gf's kissing booth!” is his tiktok video caption 💀 (you got accused of cheating)

when you did peck him on the cheek, he said with a disgusted look that he would wash his face but stares in the mirror of his bathroom for a few hours, at the area you kissed.

sho haizono

lined up as a joke. he sighs when it was his turn just to tease you.

leans down so you can peck him on the cheek. LOL he got so embarrassed afterwards.

“its just a peck” he says, walking away with RED TINTED EARS

jabberwock

haru sagara

the moment he found out, he lined up too with peekaboo !

lets you peck peekaboo before he leans in to recieve his.

pecks you on the cheek back (think its platonic but he was blushing a little when he walked away)

towa otonashi

BURNS DOWN THE BOOTH

kidnaps you to jabberwock and asks you for a ton of kisses because WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT AWAY FOR FREE TO STRANGERS 😩

you were never seen again (he has you lock in his arm at jabberwock) 😭

ren shiranami

reports you for harassment (WHEN HE IS LITERALLY IN THE LINE ?) ✋🏻

when you question him, his ears turned red and makes an excuse saying that he was looking for you & got roped into the line.

he actually wants you to plant a kiss on the cheek but is too much of a TSUNDERE to admit it.

sinostra

taiga hoshibami

this can go both ways, he either kidnaps you to sinostra and asks you to give him pecks on the cheek for good luck

or he shoots everyone out of the way and asks for a kiss in a threatening manner, making you peck him so quickly

shoots down the entire booth because he thinks its stupid (theres a jealousy factor if you squint)

romeo scorpio lucci

“YOU DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, YOU BB!” he yells at you.

actually wants a kiss but again, too PROUD to admit it. so he manually explodes the entire kissing booth.

wouldn't stop thinking about the kissing booth idea

ritsu shinjo

started stating some law about how its illegal to provide such unconsensual service.

but when you counter that its actually consensual, he falters and TRIES TO FIND ANOTHER REASON TO TAKE IT DOWN.

bro just wants a kiss and only he can receive it. (he will start debating with you if you bring it up)

hotarubi

subaru kagami

stands in line to support you and actually was really shy and nervous when it was his turn.

super wary about it too because of his stigma and you reassured him that it was okay ! he leans in for the kiss on the cheek after that !

shyly asks if he could return the same by kissing your hand instead. (AH I LOVE HIM)

haku kusanagi

“you missed my lips, princess.” THIS AUDACIOUS FLIRT

would actually line up multiple times which makes you want to throw your shoe at him for teasing you too much.

even after the kissing booth, he would tease you and ask for a peck on the cheek.

zenji kotodama

DOES. NOT. LIKE. THE. IDEA.

scare people away from your booth with his doll artifact that darkwick wanted to capture in because of its behaviour

took measures into his own hands and starts somehow malfunctioning the entire booth 😭

obscuary

edward hart

expects you to deliver a kiss to him so you ignored him.

thats when you heard a bat at your window at night, and would not leave until you give him a peck on the cheek.

would shamelessy ask for more. EVEN SUGGEST FURTHER THINGS 😭 (this man-)

rui mizuki

actually was in line too but doesn't expect a kiss because you guys know you can't touch each other. (he is just being supportive)

so you pulled out a plushtoy, gave it a kiss and use the plush to kiss rui on the cheek (he keeps the plush)

if his curse is broken however, he leans in and would not leave until you give him a peck despite repeatedly standing in line.

lyca colt

thinks its platonic and everyone is doing it.

actually wants it on his forehead and now wouldn't stop pestering you for one.

ASKS SUBARU IF HE CAN GET ONE FROM HIM TOO GOODBYE 😭😭😭

mortkranken

yuri isami

HATES. HATES. HATES. the idea

“WHY ARE YOU NORMALISING SOMETHING SO INDECENT ?!” its just a kiss on the cheek yuri, calm down. 💀

starts thinking about it for the next few days, making him FURIOUS (he is embarrassed) 🤭

jiro kirisaki

actually happened to be there by chance and wondered what kind of concept is this.

passed on the offer but would occasionally think about it (another who thinks its a platonic thing)

stares at you for the next few days (he actually wants that kiss but doesn't know how to bring it up)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I'm sorry if this topic was already discussed there (and if so, please feel free to ignore my message), but I was thinking of who would be the best judges of character in TWST cast. Perhaps they are characters such as Jade, Rook, Jamil and maybeee Lilia (? I'm not completely sure, because neither I'm really familiar with his backstory, nor did I finish chapter 7 lol). Who else do you think might be good at such things? I would love to read your detailed opinion on the matter or even mini headcanons maybe, if you find it interesting enough of course! Have a nice day, and I hope everything above sounds understandable, I'm not from an English-speaking country ^^

I think the best judges of character in the Twst cast are Leona and Rook. Yup, the class 3-A boys.

Leona is the character that most frequently calls it like it is, even when all others overlook what is hiding in plain sight. He sensed Jamil’s malicious intent towards Kalim in Jamil’s School Uniform vignette WAY before the events of book 4. “Do your eyes always glare like that, too? [Kalim] is green as grass. I can't imagine what he's thinkin', hangin' out with a schemer like you all the time. He just doesn't get that any one of these nights could be his last, huh?” Leona is also the one who instantly clocks the simulation Ruggie and Kalim in book 6 are fakes (even though Jamil goes along with the fakes). Leona is even able to understand every person’s skills and strengths even when he has spent less than 3 days with them. This is the case for the residents of Halloween Town (shown in his Nightmare Suit vignettes). He rarely ever misses. The only exceptions I can think of him flubbing is when he theorizes that Cater and Trey are more nefarious than they actually are in book 7 (and even then, this occurs in the context of dreams, which are vague and extremely difficult to interpret). Still, Leona is able to pull a crazy number of accurate reads and super quickly too.

Rook somehow has the superhuman ability to know everything about a person just through observation??? (That’s honestly an incredible but frightening feat 😭) It’s this ability that I believe leads him to influencing Vil’s audition picks in book 5; Rook saw the potential and the goodness in Adeuce and the Scarabia duo, thinking they would be positive influences for Vil’s increasingly desperate and dark thoughts. He also detected that Vil was spiraling just from a look and stopped him from poisoning his rival. Even so, Rook isn’t infallible either. He was not able to discern Lilia’s true age until explicitly told about it. Additionally, Rook mistakes Jade as being willing to do the same as he to help everyone in Ghost Marriage but seems to accurately read Jade as suspicious in Jade’s Dorm Uniform vignettes.

To address some of the other characters proposed in the ask: I do not personally consider Jamil, Jade, or Lilia to be exceptional at judging character. At best, they’re decent at it but still don’t hold a candle to like… Leona (whom I consider to be the strongest in this regard).

I would call Jamil more suspicious of others than being able to accurately judge them. Yes, he is able to notice something was wrong about Vil’s behavior in book 5 and acted accordingly to address it, but I would argue this was more out of mindfulness than telling right away that Vil felt intense jealousy. After all, Jamil is only doing this after spending a month living and training with Vil; would Jamil have been able to read Vil as well as he did, had he not spent this time in close proximity with Vil? I don’t think so. In most instances, Jamil is on his guard around others, and he is frequently shown to underestimate others or to think lowly of them regardless of their actual abilities. This is explicitly pointed out in book 6 during his trek with Leona; Jamil doesn’t recognize Kalim’s strength is his emotional intelligence (instead, Jamil focuses on Kalim’s naïveté and inability to look after himself) and Leona has to point this out to him. Jamil also implies Leona is spoiled and lazy rather than recognize his true character.

Now, Jade—I can understand why people would think Jade is good at judging others. It’s just a trait that comes naturally with his tropes and character archetype. However, I don’t recall any instances in which Jade was able to automatically clock what type of person he was dealing with. I think we assume he does, but in canon he is shown to spend time and effort researching his peers to learn about their weaknesses (see: his Ceremonial Robes vignettes). He does not instantly know a person, he has to work to achieve this, and having to work to achieve things is a recurring theme in his background. (Jade has to push himself to walk, frequently experiments with cooking, practiced being as polite as his mother, etc.) I also want to point out that he, like the rest of the Octatrio, did not seem to find Jamil suspicious until Yuu reported strange happenings to them in book 4. This does not indicate any foresight on Jade’s part.

Lilia starts off suspicious of humans (due to his experiences as a general in a 100 years’ war between humans and fae). That was about… 400 years ago? But he also spends the next several decades traveling and experiencing the anti-fae sentiment humans have. Lilia has literally been run out of communities and had stuff thrown at him because of this. However, when the attitude towards fae starts to shift to something more open-minded, Lilia is still hesitant to accept the shelter and food from a kind elderly human couple. He doesn’t register their kind intentions right away. I’d also like to point out that Lilia doesn’t accept us into his fold because he thinks or knows we are good in spite of being humans; he’s just letting us tag along because he wants to stay true to his word.

Over time, Lilia’s beliefs seemed to have changed. In modern day, he’s much more chill but I still wouldn’t call him a good judge of character. He demonstrates a bias for anyone he knows personally (claiming Malleus would make a better king than Leona, explaining to peers that Sebek and Malleus are hard to get along with but mean well deep down, etc.) but can can still judge them incorrectly. For example, Lilia fails to realize that Malleus would react as violently as he did in book 7 and doesn’t accept that Diasomnia could love and care for him for the longest time. Lilia is wise and wishes for peace between the races, so he generally has good will towards others. This good will can easily be conflated with judging that others are good people when, in reality, it is more akin to offering the benefit of the doubt.

[wasteofmfzb]

hope its alright to reblog with some tangential references i noticed, the second one may not be all that tied to dess but i found them interesting! (also apologies for my shitty screenshot quality, youtube hates me)

first off, in the knight fight, the dialogue that displays after susie or ralsei are defeated directly quotes mother 1 and 2. (i didnt notice this myself, i found out abt it thru andrew cunningham’s second chapter 4 stream, however he does falsely attribute both to being from earthbound, when only one is)

susie’s is from mother 1, being the dialogue for when your party members are defeated. pretty straight forward.

ralsei’s is from earthbound/mother 2, and its most notably the dialogue for when the teddy bear items are killed. teddy bears are an item exclusive to this game that will tank damage for your party when in your inventory. this one i actually caught on my playthrough as sounding incredibly familair, but i didnt quite connect the dots myself then. it is interesting the parallel placed on ralsei to just being an item, given his whole nature as a darkner, and i imagine thats part of the motivation behind the reference

this next thing is from the egg room in chapter 3. my immediate reaction upon seeing this for the first time was to completely lose my shit because Oh My God Thats Mother 1 .

(pulled up someones ancient old playthru for convenience, sorry lol)

for some context the forgotten man is a required npc in magicant, a realm created by the subconscious of maria (ninten’s great grandmother). he blocks the exit you need to pass through to progress the game, and will not disappear without agreeing to ignore him.

honest to god i could not tell you what to make of this reference, i barely have a read on anything going on in these recent chapters egg rooms, but its definitely an interesting connection to make. its one of mother 1’s more standout interactions imo.

(also, some context to the ninten’s mom being named carol thing for anyone unfamilar with the mother series; she is never named in game. same goes for ninten’s dad, and both of ness’s parents. the source cited on wikibound for her name was from earthbound central, which is now inaccesible afaik, however you can find a starmen.net forum post discussing this fact pretty easily, which ill link here if you wanna read it yourself. tldr is shes mentioned by name as carol in the manual for the original famicom release.)

hey toby. what are we doing here toby.

toby please

extra: did you know that ninten is called 'doug halloway' in the MOTHER choose your own adventure book? like. like. dess holidaAAAHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IM GOING FUCKING INSANE LET ME OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT GET ME OFF THIS CRAZY DAMN RIDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[transmutationisms]

I'm very sorry if this violates the "I don't give advice" rule but I've been following you for some months reading down your tags and posts about medicine / psychiatry / addiction models and I agree & I've been taking notes of the resources you recommended and want to learn more. I will however be starting med school next year and want to specialize in neurologic surgery if possible. I know that you can't change the system from the inside or anything and that modern medicine requires you take every information it presents within its context of capitalist order and capitalist research funding and there is an inherent power imbalance to patient - doctor interactions. But is there anything I can do to be more on the look out to the information presented in medical school and not be super shitty to patients?

honestly i think it's missing the point to focus on med school itself here. doctors don't subscribe to various -isms because they were involuntarily indoctrinated into them at the age of 22, they think those things for the same reasons everyone else does, namely that these are ideologies that serve specific classes & class interests, & that in various ways govern any career or profession in a capitalist society. it is entirely possible to go through medical school without passively absorbing or repeating these ideas because you are a person capable of independent thought & critical evaluation of what's placed in front of you.

from a patient ethics perspective i think the thing a prospective physician actually needs to be thinking about is the fact that your entire medical career after school is meant to take place in a professional environment that is ideologically & structurally committed to paternalism, flouting patient autonomy, & enforcing standards of 'normal' (=ideal) bodily functioning in order to maintain a productive workforce. it's all well and good to say you don't want to be a cog in that machine, but you need to be real with yourself that doctors who refuse to participate in this system simply get washed out or fired. there are no magic tips for how to defy your professional superiors when they mistreat your patients, because you're not meant to be doing that in the first place. when it comes down to it, what are you going to do when your options are to behave in the professionally normal ways or to get sanctioned & cut?

i'm genuinely not saying this to discourage you becoming a doctor or to cast moral aspersions on that desire. i think healthcare is necessary lol & i don't think doctor shortages are good, any more than shortages of grocery store workers or housing. i don't know you so i'm just going to assume your motives are good ones here: wanting to provide critical care for people is a positive thing. but you do need to understand the system in which that job exists is not a benevolent one, any more than any other job in conditions of capitalism. there's no amount of correct thinking you as an individual can do to override that & in some ways it's really irrelevant to the provisioning of patient care in the existing clinical system.

[rawme-price]

Someone asked abt the broken wrist comment on my 141!reader post so....here's the context lol (fair warning I dont write seriously and I dont care abt grammar. Severe injury, but everything's been discussed and consented to beforehand <3)

Nights like these are usually saved for special occasions. Either u or one of the other guys just cant seem to settle down no matter how much you work out or spar. Sure it takes the itch off for a moment, but then ur right back to restlessness.

Which ofc leads to ur favourite activity with the 141, a small hunting game. The woods work just fine, but gaz recently found an abandoned concrete building that may have been a mall at one point (dont question it), so you guys decide to play there. Color coded blankets and pillows mark out each of ur bases, and in the car ride over ghost is giving you a particularly hungry look.

You may or may not have been teasing him all week. Besides, you know that price is definitely doing after soap as payback for the sargeant edging him last time, and ur pretty sure price has got an alliance going with gaz.

Which means all of ghosts focus will be on you. A smirk tugging at your lips, you plan exactly how you'll have ghost once you capture him.

You've chosen a pretty nice place as ur base, in what was probably the good court. Open space, but dim and comfy enough for when u get ghost in there. then the hunt begins, and all of that 141 training kicks in.

Equipped with some handcuffs, a knife, and a flashlight the same as all the others, you sneak through the mall. Ghost tends to have the advantage in these situations, but you also know Ghost, which means u pay extra attention to the deep shadows and the small alcoves.

As expected, you spot the glint of a knife a few paces ahead, blood thrumming in ur veins as u approach. It takes work, and a brutal scuffle that has ur head ringing, but eventually u get ghost pinned in a headlock.

"Can't wait to edge you until youre crying, si." You murmer huskily, reaching to chain his wrists together. As ur hauling ghost back to ur base, you listen mildly to the echoed sobs coming from a bit aways. Seems like price found soap, then.

Ur so caught up in listening to soaps whines that u dont think about how little ghost is resisting until its too late. Between one breath and the next ur suddenly on the floor with ghosts hands wrapped around ur throat. You punch his kidney, roll away, but hes quick to get right back on you.

In fact, it seems that ghost is so eager that he plans to fuck you right there, not bothering to take u to his base. This, of course, means u have all the rights to fight back according to the rules. You play along, let him think ur giving up. Just when ghost is pressing into u, ur fist connects with his jaw. Ghost makes a startled sound of pain, followed by a sharp growl.

Ghost manhandles u, presses against those broken bones anytime u get a bit too feisty, fucks u until ur nearly passed out. Its brutal, it's painful, its heaven.

You try to use that distraction to reach ur knife, but he grabs ur arms and bodily slams you into the floor again. A sick *crack* echoes, and blinding paint flair up ur left arm, but his body is so hot and heavy above u that u dont care.

Uh anyways price chews simon tf out once yall regroup, ur wrist feeling much more painful than pleasurable. U look the doctors in the eyes and lie through ur teeth "yeah, took a nasty tumble while training. Tried to catch myself like a dumbass, real embarrassing." But its fine bc ghost gives u apology head afterwards <33

[whhomecooked]

Julie Is Disabled:

A Partially Coherent Yap Session & Welcome Home

Theory

MANY SPOILERS- SPOILERS ON SPOILERS- I mention just about every single inch of the Spring Update

[Pretty Much Just A Deep Dive of Julie in the context of the Spring Update]

Content Warnings: Ableism [Social and Internalized], Complex/Unhealthy Family Dynamics[Brief]

This has been sitting in my drafts since I started this sideblog LOL I have 4 pages of a Google Doc + Screenshots to prove my point <3 Settle in, Neighbor

Thesis

Julie has a disability and/or a birth defect, that influences her ability to do her job as a Rainbow Monster, either hindering it or rendering her unable to do her job at all. This also influences her perception of self, and the version of herself that she puts forth to cope with her aforementioned disability.

I've separated my points for your viewing pleasure, Neighbor @:]

For the purposes of this theory I am also of the belief that the Marlo Flower is a Winter Flower, as some theories suggest based on its nature and coloration.

Theory

Her Differences As a Rainbow Monster

Julie is very different from what we know about Rainbow Monsters. Visually, she differs from her siblings greatly. However, from what we know about Rainbow Monsters in general, there's some other criteria she doesn't quite meet.

Horns

In What Makes The Flowers Bloom, The Joyfuls tell us about Rainbow Monster Horns.

Rainbow Monsters have special horns that grow in sunshine and shed when it's cold. Rainbow monster Horns come in all different shapes and colors, but the bigger the better obviously.

Sharp cut to Julie's horns, which aren't just short, they're stunted.

Im aware that there is also concept art featuring Julie with horns of two different sizes. While I'm aware it is not canon, it does imply that there is some aspect of her character that has been fundamentally off-beat[pun intended] from the standard Rainbow Monster since her creation. It just presents differently than it did then.

We can look at Bea's horns in comparison, as she not only has the shortest horns of the three, but we also see the base of her horns.

Julie's horns are also shaped differently due to their size. At least with Franny and Bea, [though we don't see the base of Jonesy's horns im sure its the same case] they flare out in the middle and get smaller at the base, whereas Julie's get even wider at their base.

If she were to have some sort of birth defect/disability/etc, it would make sense that we would see physical aspects of this, as we do in the real world.

Though, yes, they are her actual horns, and not fake horns, as we see.

Color

Also in What Makes The Flowers Bloom, Jonesy [I love that little pothead<3] talks about how Rainbow monsters can come in any color, but all rainbow monsters are one color.

"Rainbow monsters come in all hues toos! From our heads to our roots, from our leaves to our nose! We stick to one color, so that together we're totally kaleidoscopic!"

Julie being multiple colors makes her not only stand out from standard Rainbow Monsters, but would, in theory, make her clash with the rest of her band, and I think she knows that.

I would also note that she's not just multicolored, she's the same colors as her siblings, with orange/yellow horns,, and blue/green legs. Which, to me, clashes further with the idea that Jonesy gives, with each Rainbow Monster being their own color so that every band is some portion of the rainbow. If Julie had been just pink[red], they would have had every color, as the central color palette Clown uses for the neighbors doesn't include purple.

Again, her being multicolored clashes too harshly with information we are told directly by other members of her species, for it to not be applicable. It's clear she stands out, but combined with other things we see, im inclined to think that her coloration is the dogwhistle.

Fur [The Lack Thereof]

Jonesy, Franny, and Bea, are all shown to have fur, most notably in their Devotion album color, where we can see they have fur on their chests and shoulders. Julie is never shown to have fur on her.

I checked the whole damn site. Even the storybooks, because you don't see her chest or shoulders in her normal outfit. So I found outfits where you could. In Sweet Briar, you see her collar and shoulders in one of the outfits she wears.

I also verified with different art styles, where other characters had notable fur.

While we're never directly told that Rainbow Monsters have fur, we're indirectly told that at least, of Rainbow Monsters, the Joyfuls have fur. With it being everyone but Julie, and my previous points, i'm not inclined to think that Julie's siblings are the odd ones out of the Rainbow Monsters.

Speaking With Plants

While in the hidden videos she does talk about not being able to speak to flowers while they're budded, we also have no real confirmation that she can talk to *any* flowers. There are two notable times that I think of when she mentions speaking for the flowers.

Eddie & the Rhododendron

She bullies Eddie into fighting 'the flower' after she accuses him of almost stepping on it. She doesn't need to *talk* to a flower to know it wouldnt enjoy almost being stepped on.

Sally & Her Tulips

This one is the first one that peaked my theoriest ears, but, the way Julie talks for the flowers really feels like she's just pulling stuff out of her Puppet Sleeve. She doesnt compliment Sally outside of the very basic things you can either see about her

Julie compliments how she shines, how pointy she is, how yellow she is, etc. in addition to very base level things anyone would be able to parse out about Sally, such as how Julie attributes the well-cared for nature of the flowers to Sally's passion for theatre.

Neither of these scenarios require her to actually speak for these flowers, just for people to assume she can.

Internalized Ableism, Complex Family Dynamics, & The Marlo Flower

What is Her Job, Like Actually?

So i'm the last person to bring real world logic into a puppet realm where sentient houses are casual things, especially in the case of these three, but what does Julie actually do? Her role in spring seems inconsequential, compared to the other three. If we lay out each of their roles in beginning spring, it'd be split up like this:

Franny

Makes the snow melt and turn into rain/morning dew

Gives the plants water, which they need to grow

Jonesy

Makes the seeds take root/sprout

starting the growth process all together.

Bea

makes the sun shine. Allows the now budding plants to make food and actually grow.

Essentially kickstarts photosynthesis

And Julie... makes the already sprouted, fed, and watered plants.. bloom?

The way i've come to interpret it, the central purpose of the role is to make her feel included. Her presence in the band is largely inconsequential to the grand scheme of things. The flowers have soil, water, and sunlight- they are going to bloom regardless.

To a degree I think she is aware of that, or is at least aware that her role isn't as crucial to spring as her brother and sisters are. That's why

A: She takes it so seriously, and why I think she tweaks out when the Marlo Flower doesn't bloom. The one thing she is supposedly tasked with doing, she cant do now that she really has to.

B: she doesn't want to join the band after leaving the first time.

We're going to look at both of these, most likely in depth.

Julie's Villain Arc, Sponsored By: Flowers and Fake Friends

Brief Reminder: For the purposes of this theory I am also of the belief that the Marlo Flower is a Winter Flower, as some theories suggest based on its nature and coloration.

The Marlo flower doesn't just act as a literal flower that cant bloom, but can perhaps be viewed as a foil of sorts to Julie in this update. This flower not only serves as a medium for which the audience can get a view into Julie's internal thought, but, a secondary perspective into the life of Home, and how Julie sees the world.

Throughout Welcome Home's updates we've seen a strengthening theme of Purpose, specifically the need for it, and loss of a sense of purpose within the community. Julie's sense of purpose is crushed by the existence of the Marlo Flower, but her 'crashout' is intensified, perhaps, by her rocky standings within her own chosen community.

In The Julie Guide To Being Joyful, Julie explicitly lies to Wally about her attitude/relationships with the neighbors, in order to show him what joy is. We know she lies because in the 'regardforgetfulnesssilence' video, Julie speaks to what we can assume to be the truth of her day interacting with her neighbors. In context of the book, we can assume this is to provide Wally with concrete examples of good interactions between the neighbors. In context of the update, this is Julie lying to herself, Wally, or both, in order to keep up the ideation and appearance that she is well loved within her community, when inside she knows she isn't.

A [Not] Brief Comparison of The Book & Hidden Video

Yes, I screenshotted every page, because, yes, i have comments about every page. Going in page order, i'll be comparing and contrasting the lines used in The Julie Guide To Being Joyful, and the lines spoken by Julie in 'regardforgetfulnesssilence', titled as 'Book' and 'Video' respectively from here and forward.

Barnaby

Book: "The last time we played, we both had so much fun even if it did take him a whole clock spin to find me!"

Video: "Home is really nice... through some people can be a little rude... Barnaby is always makin' fun of me, calling me a silly girl.."

Barnaby's neutral language towards Julie is very consistent through the material we've seen between them. Most often this takes the form of Barnaby making fun of Julie for her bad jokes, though he also has no qualms making fun of Julie & Frank in tandem.

Sally

Video: "And Sally's funny, she's a gen-u-ine star! She tells the best stories"

Book: "The Duchess of Dahlia's jubilations have never been so emotionally vivaciously joyous! It's pulchritudinous!"

With Sally I had initially nothing I wanted to cover, as her words seemed fairly standard- theatrical and overdramatic. But, I did some digging and found out that 'Duchess of Dahlia's is a type of Dahlia flower- one of the largest and tallest growing, if I remember correctly. But the interesting thing to note is if you take it in the context of floriography, Dahlias represent Instability. In which case, it would be intentional for Sally to make such a specific reference to a flower Julie would already know the meaning of. Just food for thought.

Poppy

"Poppy is really nice and reeeally big! She's kind of a scaredy bird though"

In Poppy's case I can't immediately tell if Julie knows she's being dismissive of her, because it might not immediately ring alarm bells for Julie that Poppy doesn't want any of the pie that they've just baked.

Eddie

[continued from Poppy's] "Eddie can be that way too"

Eddie, I think, perhaps along with Wally & Frank, is the only person that I believe is genuinely nice to her because they want to be nice to her.

Howdy

Book: "Julie you're hi-larious! I oughtta put two cherries on your malt for all these uproarious laughs your givin' me! This is the bee's knees, This is the berries! Applesauce!"

Video: "Howdy tells me to get better material sometimes, too..."

We can observe the contradictions between how Julie says their interactions go, and how their interactions actually went best with Howdy's. It's not even a slight smudge of the truth, it's an outright lie in order to keep up the idea that everyone likes her.

Frank [technically]

Video: "But I think I like Frank most of all. He's the first one I met when I came to Home... I was just like you, I didn't know anyone when I came here. (she sounds worried) "It's... kind of hard to remember how we met. But, I think it was while I was making my burrow... He fell into my tunnel from above. He had a big fruit basket, too, I think he was coming to say hi to me

Julie's relationship to the Marlo Flower & The Joyfuls

Julie's relationship with the Marlo flower, from my perspective, is a physical representation of her trying and failing to hide the severity of a sort of disability she's representative of, in the same way one can assume Wally has Autism judging by the way he interacts with the world around him.

In begging and eventually trying to force the flower to bloom, she is effectively trying to fight an uphill battle to prove that she's capable, even though her disability limits her too severely to accomplish her goals in a way that satisfies her internal need to be perceived as useful to the rest of home, and capable to the rest of the Joyfuls. She doesn't want people to think less of her because of this disability, so she tries harder in spite of these failures. This eventually leads to what we can assume is Julie ripping up the flower.

It's implied Frank knows that Julie is going off to check on the Marlo Flower, and him accepting her excuse suggests he is at least mildly aware of her predicament and the stakes it carries for her. Less we forget she took him to see it once already. He knows where it is, and he's not stupid to miss a detail like that.

At the same time, I think her internal need to be perceived and socially accepted as useful and capable is ALSO why she doesn't want to join the band again, if not why she left in the first place. She's the one person in her family that is incapable of doing the very thing Rainbow Monsters are supposed to be able to do- the very thing that separates them from other species living in the world of Home, and she, again, doesn't want to be a burden or hinderance, especially to her family.

We can connect this back to the aforementioned themes of ableism within my earlier texts, in addition to the theme of Purpose we're seeing in the wider story [most notably with Eddie in the Homewarming update]. However, Julie's case focuses on her internalized ableism, brought on by a socially perceived need for contribution. What is she to Home if she has no distinctive use or function in the neighborhood? What's to stop her from being kicked out or replaced if she doesn't pull her weight, and being sent back to live with her family?

Which is to say, Julie's sense of purpose, as is being tested within this update, lies in a skill she may not even have the base ability to perform. If she should actually be lying about her Rainbow Monster abilities, it spells trouble for her future when she cant legitimately put this skill to use when she needs it. The Marlo flower exists to amplify and better present this fragile sense of belonging and purpose Julie has created for herself, and in destroying the flower ina. desperate attempt to continue to seem useful and capable, seals herself and Frank into a situation I am sure will come back to bite them in the future.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 133

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

I'm back- with a latte!

Yesterday was Skylar and I's anniversary; I can't believe it's been 9 years :)

We had a super chill evening and as silly as it is we spent our anniversary watching the Minecraft movie together LOL. I will say it was so so silly, but I had so much fun watching it XD

Anyways! Let's get into the last chapter of the story before bonus- Chapter 133!

Important things must be said three times! I see what that SVSSS creeping in with that triple congratulations :P p151

Aw. That's really sweet that Puqi village built a new shrine! p151

LOL the bell XD p153

Xie Lian: want some food? Mu Qing: [side eyes] Xie Lian: I didn't make it Mu Qing: thank fuck. p154

omg! yay! A little late but the beggars are finally getting their chicken legs p155

I can't with Heaven's eye. This guy makes me laugh now. He snoops so hard XD The type of guy to walk into someone's home and open all their cupboards p156

Not the chicken bathing in the soup pot! whyyy LOL p158

Nooooooooooooo; "Why is the evil qi...internal? It's... it's coming from inside your body." The way I would die of embarrassment if I was Xie Lian. p159

This poor guy's tab p162

Ugh! I weep! They're so cute, so domestic! p163

That pair! So Sickly sweet!! p164

A tattoo of his name!!! omg noo wait, that's really cute. Xie Lian thought it was random, but it's just his shitty handwriting :'3 p165

Them in hat art is absolutely scandalous! Stunning- I love it. p166

"I am forever your most devoted believer" It's still getting me- my heart! p167

oh, this is really cute- worshipping the ghost and god together :'3 p169

LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE!

This was such an emotional journey, what a good ending to this story. I am honestly so happy I decided to read this <3

I can't wait to see what the extras bring :)

[tawked]

So one of the things I like about Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, which I think is somewhat underappreciated in the audience because it clashes hard with the utopic vision of the future, is that the Federation is in many ways still systemically and culturally ableist.

I think this is explored best in S02E06's "Melora," obviously.

This episode starts off with Dax being shocked that the replicator contained a schematic for a wheelchair, because no one has needed one in three hundred years. Bashir answers that no no no lol, Federation replicators in fact cannot make wheelchairs based on their built-in libraries, and that the wheelchair is a schematic that their incoming wheelchair user coworker sent over to have replicated for her on arrival.

The rest of the episode explores how this utopic vision of the future that the difficult-to-accommodate disabled are not a part of has absolutely de-normalized the cultural concepts and accommodations surrounding some disabilities, thus creating complex and seemingly anachronistic institutionalist-era realities in the space future.

This is, to me, deeply interesting because it highlights a very real conversation around pursuing cures against pursuing accommodation.

It's basically acknowledging the threat of the Gattica style shit currently engaged in by dudes like Elon Musk and these freaks

(for those who don't recognize them, these are weird pro-natalist yuppies who claim they've done shit like genetically engineer their kids for high IQs, a scentifically impossible thing. they are, unsurprisingly, very racist but in a SoCal-Berkeley way.)

becoming so normalized in society that we effectively engineer out the majority of "defects." Everybody starts off with a happy healthy life as defined not through accommodation and infinite diversity in infinite combinations, but through the elimination of variation that would necessitate different cultural practices, different architecture, different understandings of life worthy of life, blah blah blah.

It's not "in the brilliant shining future nobody has to be disabled," it's "in the brilliant shining future the disabled aren't allowed to exist, and we don't have to think about them" lol.

But! Geordi LaForge!

Well, Geordi is born blind in a context where blindness can be perfectly accommodated, debatably even cured, via his wundervisor and / or surgically implanted eyes. In fact, in the movies, which do not exist sorry, Geordi gets them eyes stuck in and in so doing even loses the cultural signifier of his blindness, as well as situational considerations of blindness.

Further, Geordi is in this unfortunate weird space a lot of disabled characters in science fiction are, where his prosthesis is considered cool enough that it passes some kind of ableist vibe check wherein the character is no longer necessarily received as "disabled" by the audience. It's a cool cyberpunk thing, and thus loses its audience association with disability in many ways, ala Adam Jensen's sword arms or the unexplored nature of voluntarily cutting off one's limbs to replace them with robot parts in Cyberpunk 2077.

Geordi "can do things," he just "has to do things a little differently." The "a little differently" here is defined as "wearing a thing on his face" and not a different process or method. We never see how Geordi lays out his quarters or prepares his uniform, tools, whatever in a way that makes it all more accessible for him; he readily assume the first thing he does in the morning is plug his visor in. Glasses.

It's a fun cosplay idea in a way a wheelchair isn't.

The thing is, when Geordi is without his visor, he's fucked.

I don't just mean the episode where he's trapped in a island with a Cardassian or whatever, I mean on the fucking Enterprise. Say they're in a crisis, he falls over, wangs his noggin on a console and breaks his visor. Look at the open layouts with no handrails leading anywhere, no braille or layout signage posted, nothin'.

How the fuck is he going to find his way to the turbolift?

These are not accessible environments for a blind bloke. These are accessible environments for a sighted bloke wearing glasses.

The thing to consider as well is, we know Geordi's blindness is absolute. Blindness in real life is pretty diverse, actually, and many blind people do have some vision. Not Geordi. So, all the lights that communicate where to go in a crisis mean fuck all to him.

And, considering how often the Enterprise is in crisis, crew members are cut off from each other or the ship, the practical realities Geordi has to deal with on away missions that are simply never accommodated - it becomes apparent that Geordi is considered effectively the same as any sighted crew member.

His disability accommodation is individual and his responsibility. Nothing is provided by Starfleet except, perhaps, new visors and free visits to Beverly.

The same criticism exists for my man Hemmer,

who is played by blind actor Bruce Horak, yes, but who exists in a similar state to Geordi. I doubt they considered Mr. Horak a consultant on blindness and how a blind crew member would work in their series, because again, his blindness is accommodated for by magical future thing that doesn't fucking exist. In this case, psychic senses or something (idk I've never watched nuTrek sober).

If you look at the environments he's in, or the situations he deals with on away missions, sans those Daredevilian supersenses he'd be shit out of luck.

They're so adverse to giving blind characters so much as a cane.

I'm not saying the inclusion of blind characters is bad or that we should not engage in these fantasies of disabled characters being able to live and work equally to able-bodied characters without the need for accommodation, necessarily. I'm certainly not saying every blind character should have a sighted support following them around or a dog or whatever. My criticism is not of the blind characters' individual accommodations not being up to my arbitrary standard as a sighted viewer lol.

What I am instead attempting to hightlight here is that the shows seem adverse to engaging in disabled / accommodative environmental design or in the more complex, social realities of disability, and that's something that the episode "Melora," the wheelchair user episode this post is about lol, addresses in depth.

Julian is a future space doctor who doesn't know how to comfortably talk to someone in a chair. That only happens in a universe where doctors don't encounter wheelchairs in their professional lives. That's a reality brought about specifically by the comfortable eugenicist realities of the future, where although due to a war the Federation draws the line at "enhanced" individuals, it obviously voluntarily engages in liberal eugenics to the effect of eliminating disabled life in many meaningful forms. Its society, where doctors seem to need an aide like this to do their jobs properly:

And idk! I think that's neat. I think that's a powerful flaw in the utopic vision of the future that Roddenberry and the others probably didn't intend originally, and that DS9, commendably, attempts to explore.

Especially because Julian was a lil autistic boy who was forcibly cured through similar treatment, and correctly identifies that this means the him who existed before was drastically altered for his parents' fear of actually accommodating him.

anyway this post was brought out of me by some dickhead saying Melora "breaks the setting" for them lol. bro they fought a eugenics war, they definitely didn't come out of that culturally unchanged. you're just scared of wheelchairs. fuck u

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Hellow this is my first time asking, and I'm sorry if this has been asked before.

I was (re-) reading "Bill Wins" fic again (great fic btw) and when I got to the part where Ford (in a showing passion lol) defeted Bill. It got me thinking, What if Stanley just stays as he is? Or maybe the "brain scramble" had gone much longer?

Or maybe without Axol intervean and just let Stanley brain "Heal naturally" how long would that take?

I'm sure Ford would somehow magically figure out how to put Stanley back together, but Mainly I kinda wanna know what that version of Stanley would affect Ford and the other on long terms.

(Play into Fidd, beliving Sganley is "Nikolas" and teach him how to be a person, Clara being the only one believing Ford that This cat man is Stan.)

Hell, maybe even stanley himself and how he preserved his sense of self and the people that preserved him. Will he be aware over time? Does he even care?

"Ford wants to go bring Stanley whole but ingnore the person that's already in front of him. Even tho He is strange (-er)- doesn't think and behave like the Cuning Nikolas/Stanley. He is still a person :("

Again, sorry if this had been asked, and have a nice day/night!

Thanks for asking! It hasn't been asked before, so let me think!

In a world where Stan stayed brain scrambled, Fiddleford absolutly takes the reigns of trying to teach 'Nikola' how to be a person with mixed success. Partially from Stan not understanding why he can't fit places anymore, partially from Stan purposely messing with Fiddleford. Any attempt at trying to convince Ford that Stan's just a normal cat gets a ranting Ford who tells them how much he knows this is Stan but ultimately explains none of his reasoning.

Since this is still ultimately Stan, just brain scrambled, Ford has an easier time accepting his differences as part of his catness and working with him. Gets a lot of soul research in, finds way to strengthen souls, helps heal the cracks Stan has in his, etc. It'd take a while, but Stan would slowly act less scrambled and more like his grumpy self in moments. Like, he'd be sitting in the living room, laying on the floor purring while someone pets his hair, then sit bolt upright and smack them, hit with the realization he was getting pet. Recovery would be hard, as he'd flip flop between grumpy Stan and cheery brain scrambled Stan, but he'd eventually find the words and get his brain together to say 'no Fords not crazy, I am Stanley Pines and this is just my life now i guess.' I'm thinking it'd be a month or two before it started happening, then his mindset would rapidly improve, then slow down again and get rough. By the time the twins rolled around he'd be where og BW!Stan is, maybe with moments here and there of increased cat behavior.

As for if Stan had to heal naturally and didn't get blasted with the pieces of his soul all in one go... hmm.

This is the one where Ford would have to face the fact that he might never have the same Stan he used to know, sort of like perma memory wiped Stan. It'd take months for Stan to be able to move around more, he'd have to go through a lot of PT from laying around so much, and his memories would take a while to come back in such a way he can process them for what they are.

Kind of like how he knew Ford was his brother, but didn't remember his name? This but for everything. He knows certain things, names of some things, funtions of others, and its a chaotic mess. Struggles to remember to talk, things like that. Stan had his whole self shattered to pieces here, and while it is coming back, its coming back so slowly he's relearning who he is as a person faster than his memories return to tell him who he is. Takes a few months to get the energy to move around more, a year to speak more than sentences, more to remember his childhood, or it all comes back in disorganized chunks that doesn't give him enough context to really remember it. This is a long time recovery scenario, and while he'll end up similar to how he was (criminal, sense of humor, likes being a nuisance) he's also had time to change in between (quieter, more affectionate, gets lost in his own head)

But Fords trying! This is his brother! He's not going to stop until Stan's back to his old self! He'd eventually have to have an intervention about how they know he loves Stan and misses him, but Stan's right here, and him running off and ignoring the person in front of him in favor of chasing the person he used to be is doing more harm than good. Ford keeps saying he'll 'fix' Stan and Stan's still at the point that he's not sure whats wrong with him and its making him second guess himself constantly trying to 'fix' himself, try to become the person Ford wants even though he doesn't remember who that person is anymore.

At some point Ford will stop shoving his 'ideal' Stanley onto Stan, but it'll be a rough road until they get to the point to where he accepts he's gonna have to relearn how to be Stan's brother, relearn who Stan is, and remake their relationship from that.

Definitely fun to think of all the alternative paths, and no worries about repeat questions! I love to yap away!

Have a good night/day yourself!!

[davrinsleftpectoral]

Surprise! Chapter 3 of Welcome to Nug E Cheese is here!

Read on AO3 HERE.

Thank you to @mythals-whore @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai and @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for letting your OCs come visit my little AU.

Also a snippet under the cut for this week’s Thursday Bangers. Thank you @woundedsoul12 @jenn2d2 @aetherflowers for the tags this week.

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

All my friends we're glorious | Tonight we are victorious — Victorious by Panic! At The Disco

==

“Did you guys pick?” He asked them. 

“We’ve narrowed it down to Hightown Heist and DDI,” Harding replied. 

“Let the new guy choose,” suggested Taash. “It’s his first time playing either game, he should get to pick how he loses.”

Everyone turned to look at Lucanis. He waited a beat and then said stoically, “Hightown Heist.” His reply was met with various yesses and a few aws. 

“Okay!” Turvi rubbed his hands together. “We can only play in pairs. Best score wins. Lowest gets bathrooms. Winner gets to go home.” The others all nodded in agreement. 

Harding and Bellara went first, followed by Taash and Neve. During each match, everyone cheered and yelled, watching the game being played. Finally it was Lucanis and Turvi’s turn. Turvi turned to the other man and flashed him a smile and said, “Good luck!” Lucanis only raised his eyebrows in return. 

Turvi swiped his card for them both and they started playing. Each of them were aiming and firing at templars, attempting to make a getaway with a stolen shipment of lyrium. Turvi was laughing and having fun when he realized the game was announcing every time Lucanis got a bonus. Turvi usually just held down the trigger in these types of games, constantly spraying shots in an attempt to hit the most targets. Lucanis however was pulling the trigger for single shots. He was quickly aiming at target after target, taking out templars with one hit. Turvi stopped aiming his gun at all, in awe of Lucanis’ skill. The game continued announcing “Good shot! Double bonus!” over and over. Turvi watched open mouthed, shocked at Lucanis’ skill. 

The game ended and displayed their scores. Lucanis set a new high score for the machine. He entered his initials, nodded to the group, and left. 

Bellara looked up from her notebook and said, “Sorry Rook, you had the lowest score by a long shot.”

==

Definitely read the rest of this chapter. Some of these jokes are much better in context lol

Soft tagging in case you want to play or just want a notification that I put up a chapter @notyourmamasdeerbat @chaosherald @seaglassmelody @serensama @hedwigoprah @kabsey @cute-ellyna

[lupinescribbler]

Tips to Writing Emotional Dialogue!

No hard and fast rules here, just some things I've seen in media and incorporate into my writing that I think can help emotional dialogue hit the mark. Use or discard as suits your writing/story!

Build up!

Emotional dialogue will hit harder when the groundwork has already been set. There's lots of ways to do that. One is what I call the "naming", let something exist in the story without being properly addressed or labeled, until it finally is. A character bitterly saying "I never was (a child)" (hello Dean Winchester) is going to hit a thousand times harder if you've already seen that. If you've seen glimpses of their childhood, or how their childhood has affected their adulthood, if there's been jokes or throw away lines, or stories/storylines that surround that idea without naming it, if you've watched the character come to turns with it, or treat it blithely, or hide it. You need to build something up in order to pay it off.

2. Action!

Dialogue in general, especially long stretches of dialogue, can end up feeling stale when nothing is happening during it. I tend to like to use action to reflect and support the dialogue. I don't mean action as in a fight scene (imo, drawn out conversations in the middle of a fight scene can end up feeling too unrealistic). I try to focus on how an action can serve as a backdrop to reflect the emotion of the conversation of the scene. If a character has been avoiding the issue they could avoid it both verbally and physically by performing a distracting task (taking the groceries in, sharpening their sword, fixing their car, etc). Or it could reflect something about the lifestyle of the characters or their current headspace. I also like using action to reflect the emotions entering into and progressing through the dialogue. Is the task frustrating them? Do they abandon the task when the dialogue starts intensifying, or redouble their efforts? What can happen in the action to progress it alongside the conversation? Do they slam the fridge door? Do they ask the other person to pass them a wrench? Do they give up?

3. Setting + Context!

Similar to action, but often more passively, I like using the setting to influence or emotionally enhance the conversation. How does the environment shape how the characters are feeling or the conversation unfolds? Are two people having an argument in a public place, one embarrassed and trying to shut it down while the other escalates? Are they shoulder to shoulder in the cabin of a sinking ship, listening to water sloshing, thinking they're going to die and they better get this off their chest? I find describing some actions and environmental factors can help change the pacing of a conversation, generally by slowing it. If there's a pause in the dialogue, make the readers and not just the characters feel it.

4. Tone + Expression + Movements!

These can be delicate to balance. Personally, I tend to overemphasize the tone character's are speaking in, and am working on doing just what is necessary to establish the emotion instead of everything possible. Mostly I'd recommend 1) focusing on where a description of tone/expression/movement is most helpful/impactful. 2) varying how and what you're describing (don't have someone shrug a million times in a scene, or voice crack every sentence, etc. It will mean less every time it pops up). 3) Vary long/prosy stuff with stuff that's short and hard hitting. Be willing to cut out good lines to make better lines hit harder. If you tend towards either one of the other (long vs short) edit through to add more variation in the other direction. 4) Weigh exact word choice, especially if you're naturally more wordy (like me, lol) sometimes you have to sacrifice a little nuance for impact, and sometimes you can switch out two words to a third that encapsulates both, etc. Or if you tend to be short, you might figure out a place where an added description would add more clarify and nuance.

Final thoughts:

I hope this was readable and maybe helpful :) my best recommendation is always to reflect on what best suits your voice, and what you find most impactful in what you read/watch. So many different voices/styles of writing can crush an emotional scene in their own way. For example, I've been reading Jack Reacher recently, which has a way more blunt, taciturn, and factual approach to emotions/emotionally heavy scenes, and frequently knocks them out of the park in ways I never would have thought of.

[uyunto]

Do you have if even a crumb of info more about Gunadimme Rustich? I wanna learn more about the snazzy white boy. (And all of your OCs tbh but... one thing at a time)

hi! i appreciate your interest in my oc!

gonna be honest: i have some difficulties in wording my thoughts about my ocs, like, when get questions about them suddenly a cymbal-banging monkey jumps out of nothing in my head and starts executing some crazy cacophony (not even mentioning im bad in English lol)

i have a post with basic info about this setting (LiMB). it's pretty hard yapping about my silly guys out of huge context they have, so probably it's gonna be a bit (or a big) chaotic, i'm open to questions anyway

(okay first of all i think if he heard you calling him snazzy, he'd say something like "oh, am I?😏" 😭✌️)

anyways here's some facts about Rustich

- name: Gunadimme ['gʌnədɪm] Rustich ['rʌstɪʧ], i hope i did this transcription right. can be called just Dimme or Rustich (how i usually call him). in original his name is Янис-Тыну Ржавич (Yanis-Tynu Rzhavich / Jānis-Tõnu Rzhavich)

- he's 35 years old (in some part of the story he's 12-14)

- 5'8.50'' ft / 174 cm (pretty short in comparison to the people around him)

- browless redhead with dark black-holes-like eyes

- he's Aldethian

- madly in love with Stelliah

- bisexual (he realized he was attracted to his best /male/ friend all this time only in his 20s, only after discussing sexuality with Stelliah)

- plays saxophone

- likes gardening (he's genuinely fascinated by the process of the plants' life and their ability to endlessly copy themselves and enjoys the fact he basically can control that process)

- likes reading and gaining new knowledge in general

- I'd call him a politician

- obsessed with the idea of fixing everything Aldetha did wrong and building a better society (he's doing the same mistake Aldetha did, but shush, he's not aware of this so far)

- obsessed with ancient Lame-Ray culture and the "legend" about Lamprey

- got a fucking villa basically on the cosmic meteorite in the middle of the river (i know it's random but it is what it is)

- his parents were housekeepers in Aldetha. it's not a respectful occupation due to the rules and culture aspects they have there, so his strict parents did their best to make their son overtax his strength in attempt to be literally the best at everything so he could be in a better position in Aldethian society than they have

- because of the fact above even in adulthood he's unable to impartially see and accept his own achievements, like it's always not enough for him. he may seem arrogant and confident on public but it's simply a mask and behind this mask there is still that endlessly neglected child he once was. he always questions his own value.

- in conclusion, bro is just seeking for stability and acceptance all his life but that desire seems to slowly make him desperate for control and perfection and in the end it's gonna make him paranoid

- the rust and the dim fire are the things i associate with him

(of course it not all i can say about this character, but i don't wanna make this post too big, so that's all for now)

voice headcanon (teen) ⬇️

voice headcanon (adult)

i don't have much drawn stuff with him but here's some art i have just in case

and some memes i associate with Rustich 😭 I'd add more but image limit got my ass (if you need translation lemme know)

thank you for asking!

[wettblanket]

another wip I'm releasing into the wild bc I've got a bunch of other projects going on rn....exciting stuff to come :]

context: A/B/O AU post portal but pre-weirdmagedon. Omega Stan x Alpha Ford. there's some in-between scenes missing (never got around to writing lol) so there's some gaps but hey! it's something

“It’s time to go to sleep.” Stan says with his arms crossed and looming behind Ford who is seated at his desk scribbling in his journal.

“I’m busy,” Ford dismisses. He doesn’t even bother looking up from his writings. He hears Stan heave a big sigh before he inches close enough to Ford’s back that he can feel his body heat. 

“Stanley.” He growls in warning. His instincts scream at him. His back is exposed. Stan wouldn’t attack him. But anyone standing so close is a threat. They haven’t been pack for a long time which is probably why Ford is reacting so negatively despite his conflicted thoughts. Stan’s warmth is nice in the bleak and cold basement.

“I wasn’t askin’. We’re going to sleep. Now.”

The last word his twin speaks is rumbled out in such a close imitation of an alpha voice that Ford almost complies. His body jolts before he rises from his chair fully. No one gets to control him anymore. 

He whirls around and bares his teeth at Stan. “Don’t. You’re no alpha.”

Stan scoffs and his arms bunch as his fingers dig into them. His eyes flint over Ford with a strange indifference. “I’m not. But I am the boss of this house and it’s time to go to bed.”

[ missing scene - imagine more arguing before stan man handles ford to lay on the cot in the lab ]

Ford fights, not as desperately or frantically as he maybe should, his hands smacking and scratching at his oaf of a brother laying on top of him. He doesn’t want to hurt Stanley, even if he is being pinned by the other man. His alpha is not very happy with the situation.

But none of this seems to bother Stan. He just goes boneless, further crushing Ford under his superior weight. Ford wheezes and gives up trying to strike his twin, hooking his fingers into his brother’s sides to try and yank him off. 

There’s a rumble of warning that cuts off his thoughts and has him shivering. Stan growled at him. His alpha insists on answering with a growl of his own, but Ford doesn’t want to get into a petty dynamic fight with his twin this late into the night. 

Ford unclenches his fingers and Stan twitches just slightly. The jump of his sides clicks an old memory into place. Ford grins mischievously before ambushing his brother with fluttering fingers. 

Stan yips and now it’s his turn to squirm and try to escape. Ford doesn’t let him, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders to keep him close as his other hand tickles him mercilessly. 

“Stanford!” Stan hiss-shrieks between breathless laughs and paws helplessly at Ford’s head. His hand ruffles Ford’s hair more than anything. He doesn’t want to hit his twin either. It makes something warm bloom in Ford’s chest. 

“Say uncle.” Ford insists, his grin starting to make his cheeks ache. Stan tries growling at him again, but the effect is ruined by his muffled giggles. “Say it.”

Stan’s teeth snap by Ford’s ear with an audible clack. It’s playful in a way they haven’t been in forty years. Ford stops his assault to just hold his twin. Stan’s sides expand under his palm in a hypnotic rhythm. Ford lets his brother catch his breath.

“I missed you.” Stan croaks after a long silence. He drops his head into Ford’s hair and sniffs at him. Ford’s alpha puffs up and pushes more of his scent into the air. “Bastard.”

The swear makes Ford chuff. He’s been called worse. “You brought that upon yourself for laying on me, Stanley. Now get up. I’ve got things to get back to.”

Stan hums, the sound reverberating right in Ford’s ear. He knocks his head into Stan’s. His twin grunts but doesn’t take the hint to move. “Nuh-uh. Sleep.”

[ missing scene - cuddles and internal thoughts from ford abt how different everything is, nostalgia, he missed his bro bro but is still trying to force denial, etc etc ]

Stanley’s weight is oddly comforting. Even as Ford wiggles uselessly underneath him, the pressure is squishing him into the soft mattress. He can’t remember the last time he slept on a bed. His brother’s faint scent is a comfort too. The salty tang of the ocean and a wispy smokiness nostalgic of their mother’s cigarettes. It lulls him into a relaxed state despite his alpha huffing and puffing about being taken advantage of.

Stan’s jaws cracks right in Ford’s ear as he yawns and snuggle closer. “Sleep, Six.” He mumbles causing Ford to shiver. His twin’s voice is deep and sleepy. Not a hint of fear for retribution or guilt of knocking Ford down a peg. 

Ford pouts as their combined body heat unclenches his muscles and his eyelids start drooping. “G’night, Stanely.”

As the world dips into a fuzzy nothingness, Ford hears his brother hum and whisper back affectionately, “Good night, Ford.”

[derpychocho]

I'm slowing chipping away at the Undertale UI template for the jam. I worry I've written too many comments LOL

But I just want to make sure everything is clear for newcomers that may not be familiar with Ren'Py.

and i had to really sit there and be purposeful with my comments because normally my comments are more like.... this (ft. DATING START! code comments)