#sorry i put anon in the moodboard

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Hi! May I have a monster matchup please?

My favorite color is green. Probably a nice dark one like pthalo or emerald. My favorite band is The Who but I also like The Monkees and Bob Seger. Aesthetically speaking I’m probably a cross between 70’s fashion and 1940’s Hollywood glamour. I’m an INTJ and a textbook Virgo (I think only one part of my sign is something else). I like (short) little weird men that play aliens and 80’s horror.

-NightmareInTheLibrary✨

Forest Fae

I don't know a whole lot about the forest fae but I promise I didn't match you with one just because you like green! As an INTJ your thirst for knowledge will lead you off the beaten path and deep into unknown territory. But you persevere in search of that unknown and use all that 80's horror knowledges to avoid getting in trouble.

You stumble upon your forest fae, not the other way around, which thoroughly surprises them but they aren't so easily rattled. Maybe the cam get a deal out of you.

Are you lost? No, alright then, in search of some prize? Nothing specific. A few questions later and your sure this person you've met in the woods isn't human. In fact, the green of their eyes and how they stand still as a tree all but confirms it.

You leave the forest that day unscathed and wishing instantly to go back once you return to civilization.

You worry about your fae, probably more than necessary, but you return again and again with a different excuse each time until you fill your home with gifts from the forest fae and you spot them wearing things you have brought them.

It matches the green pallor of their skin, the shimmer of darker green across their shoulders and cheeks from the sun. Meaning so much to a fae is tricky but worth the struggle.

Artists: The Who, Bob Seger

The lemon has disappeared (aka the muse has fled my brain) but if you want I can add one later, I just didn't want this to sit in my drafts forever. So sorry!

[yoohyeon]

🐮

send me a 🐮 and I will refresh my Pinterest and give u my first four pics as a random moodboard

[perotovar]

Sorry to do on anon, but I do not know you well enough and is scared. I think that confessions blog are talking you :(( Just know you is loved a lot here 💚

omg you don't have to be scared here! i get it tho, people suck. thank you for telling me.

this is the funniest god damn thing ever tho lmao

first, i get misgendered, not surprising. then something i worked for 2 weeks on gets criticized because i didn't "make enough slots". clearly they didn't read anything i said because it seems to have gone right over their head. i know i shouldn't be bringing attention to this but i think it's hilarious lol

i'm currently working on a couple of extras for people that wanted to be involved. so, no, it wasn't limited to 14 people. it initially was because making 14 moodboards and collecting 10 pages/4k words and counting of notes about the gods so no one is going in blind is a lot of work for one person. i spent so long on this.

it's also something in my belief system called reciprocity: gifts given for gifts received. i put in the effort that i expect in return. maybe that's selfish or shitty, but i don't care what anyone else has to say about it.

so, sure, maybe it is "the most unintentionally perfect illustration of the pedro fandom culture". okay? lol i'm not spending my free time yucking anyone's yum because i'm not a miserable cunt.

[elliemarchetti]

My AU Headcanon: after surviving the attack on their house, James had constant nightmares about seeing Lily & Harry dying & Voldemort, Wormtail and Snape taunting for failing them, despite being the great James Potter. It hurt Lily to see her once happy and mischievous husband be in so much pain.

I'm alive! Risen from the ashes like Fawkes!

Lovely anon, thank you for your patience and for sending this prompt, which allowed me to write James from another perspective and analyze his marriage with Lily with a more mature eye.

As always feedback and other suggestions on how to continue this (or any other) story are welcome but I'm also open to having a chat, exchanging headcanons and making moodboards and playlists for your favorite characters/couples.

Words: 700

After years of uncertainty and terror, with heavy casualties on both sides and entire bloodlines wiped out, the war ended, and the Wizarding World celebrated with displays of fireworks and jubilation. He Who Must Not Be Named was dead, just a corpse made of skin and bones buried beside his father in a forgotten graveyard, his remaining followers were locked up in Azkaban, and peace reigned once again, an outcome Lily failed to truly believe in as she held little Harry to her chest on the darkest nights, in fear it could be their last moment together. They had been lucky to survive Pettigrew's betrayal, something he did not, and Lily was grateful for every quiet day she was allowed to live, but James hadn’t gotten over the tension and the constant fear as well as she did. When there was light outside, from breakfast until he put Harry to bed, everything seemed fine despite the purplish dark circles under his eyes, and at work he was his usual mischievous self, at least according to Sirius, but when he got under the covers, once he had given a kiss to his wife and they both turned off the lamps on their respective bedside tables, he became a mess, clinging to her body as if she was a lifeline. The nightmares hadn’t given him a full night’s sleep for months now, and if sometimes he didn’t feel like talking, if sometimes the only thing that soothed him was sinking into Lily, taking her in desperation, letting her gentle words of encouragement and muffled moan ground him, during others he was more inclined to dialogue.

“He killed you,” he had murmured one night, heavy tears sliding down his sunken cheeks. “You were dead, and he… Harry… I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

It was like this, between stammers and fragmented sentences, that Lily discovered what was plaguing her husband’s sleep, a sense of guilt he shouldn’t have felt, an anxiety he couldn’t leave behind.

“It’s not my fault, Snivellus, it’s not my fault!” he had shouted on another occasion, before sitting up in bed, his forehead drenched in sweat.

“Dad?” Harry had called from the small corridor dividing their rooms, rubbing his eyes with the small fist.

“Dad had a bad dream, love,” Lily had quickly explained, as he guided him back to bed. “Every now and then it happens to adults too.”

“Can you give him this, then?” her son had asked, with the innocence only children possess, handing her one of the stuffed animals he usually slept with. “It will protect him from monsters.”

“He will appreciate it very much,” she replied, taking the fuzzy Welsh Green, his favourite birthday gift from uncle Remus.

“Did I scare him a lot?” James asked, defeated and worried, as soon as she closed the door behind her.

“No, but he wants you to have this, to protect you from monsters,” she answered, passing him the stuffed animal. He stared at it for a while, as if seeing it for the first time, or glimpsing something in his black plastic eyes, and then he hugged it tightly, curling up his knees and bowing his head until his dishevelled hair almost touched his arms. Seeing him like this, it was evident how young he actually was, how the weight of the carefreeness the war took away from them weighted on his hunched shoulders.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, breaking the heavy silence engulfing the house. “I wish I was stronger, I wish I had been able to do more, but instead I had to hide like a rat, I had to wait for others to defend my family for me.”

“We’re all alive, and that’s enough,” was all Lily could say as she caressed his bare back, where the bones of his spine visibly protruded. When had he gotten so thin? When, among the pile of things he had to care about, had he stopped considering eating a priority? Just two more questions to add to the thousand she would have to find an answer, a solution, to alone, so as not to break the young man who that night slept hugging his son’s stuffed dragon.

[k9catastrophe]

Hi! Hello! How are you doing??

Desculpe, could i ask for a fox moodboard with sunshine, forest and autumn themes, quotes and boarders? (Yes, i used copypaste for that i didn't want to make any mistakes I'm sorry I'm nervous) And anything else you want to put in that kdjdj

Have a very good day/night!

(you'll probably see me again)

-🦊☀️

·:¨༺ 🦊☀️ Anon ༻¨:·

K9: oughhhh this one is my favorite.. so pretty ..

[lovvecherrymotion]

29 and 33 for Jance

29. First date? (Give as much or little detail)

anon ily for this.

i think their first date was pretty casual - they don't seem like the type of people to... make a big deal out of it? i could see them going out for a walk and enjoying the day together (holding hands if they feel brave enough - it's not something they haven't done before, but it feels a little more intimate now).

they check some small record store on their way back home and nace insists on buying jan a vinyl he really wanted (and jan will complain, but nace is having none of it - and seeing jan's adorable shy smile is more than enough).

the day probably ends with them cooking dinner together, just like they've done a million other times, except now jan steals kisses whenever nace turns over to look at him and nace gets to hug jan from behind, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck as he (tries) to wash the dishes after dinner.

turns out, the dishes can wait until tomorrow.

33. What is their wedding day like?

ANON, I LOVE YOU.

so i've talked about this a lot but...

they figure out a compromise between a big and a small wedding - turns out they don't even want to invite that many people, but they decide to splurge a little to make it look and feel really nice. it's a nice mix of family, old friends, esc friends... and everyone gets along well! (jere FINALLY comes to slovenia and they all joke about him needing a whole wedding to fly over)

their pets are involved in some way - if it's too stressful to involve them in the ceremony itself, i could see them having a photoshoot with them (imagine igor with a little bowtie 😭) just so they have a memory of the day with them.

bojan cries a lot. kris is also very emotional but he hides it better (i can see it getting to him when he's making a speech and he just looks at jan, someone he's known his entire life, and his heart is filled with love and fondness). jure has the most fun but at the end of the night he gives them both a hug and tells them he's never been so happy for anyone else. martin makes sure everyone remembers this only happened because of him (after all, he's the one who suggested nace to replace him).

their first dance is to astp. of course. what else could it be?

and their honeymoon is in japan.

this is a little bonus thing i came up with a few days ago actually and... putting it under a cut because this is already too long

something old - jan had a shirt he got from his older brother and replaces one of the buttons on his wedding shirt with one of the buttons on the old shirt he got him. nace gets a little piece of a plaid black and white shirt sewed on the inner part of his suit

something new - jan gets a new tie from kris (his eyes filled with tears and jan has to take a deep breath not to cry either). nace gets a new bracelet from his sister - it's silver and it has a little treble clef charm on it

something borrowed - jure has to give jan extra socks because he forgot his own socks on his wedding day somehow. nace borrows a belt from bojan because it just fits him better than the belt he had picked

something blue - they both get matching blue underwear for their big day. the giggle about it at the store when they pick it out but they both wear it

THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! (i also have a moodboard but this is like. insanely long as it is)

[redcomet-stims]

Hullo internet people, I've decided to make a sideblog to try making stimboards, just wanna keep everything organised :)

This blog has NO DNI, and will take ALMOST any request you want. With that, though, comes no discourse. Or arguments. I want to make visually stimulating moodboards, not fight with you.

I'm not completely child-safe all the time...but I'm not NSFW at all...I'll take requests with "adult" sources, but won't use blatantly adult content at all :)

Do not expect consistent posting, but I try to post frequently!

Also, if you are requesting a character that isn't from something in my fandoms list, I would prefer you add a theme(s) (or maybe tell me a bit about the character if you so desire 🤫). It's not required, but it would be nice and would help me out! If you don't, I'll be fine though, but I might have a few inaccuracies, may go more off of appearance, or generally may not make something as high-quality as I could. I'll try my best to gather information and make it accurate nevertheless ^^

And just a note: if the things I write on my stimboards don't make sense, are rambly, or sound weird, it's probably because I make pretty much all of my stimboards late at night 😭 I am a massive night owl and like working on them later in the day because I feel like I can focus better on them, but sadly I am also not always the greatest at putting out my thoughts coherently at night 🙏 And yeah my image IDs might not always be the best due to working on them later too

Inbox: 15 (woah)

Pocoyo (titular character) stimboard with blue, toy blocks, and numbers for anon

Stimboard based on myself for anon

Titanic stimboard with thalassophobia, broken metal, fog, and an anxious theming/aura for anon

Paimon (Genshin Impact) stimboard with orange, brown, and alarm clocks for the anon who requested Centorea Shianus (Vivli) :3

Vinchen Adencia (Guide to Reincarnation) with blue/black, fire, lightning, and combat theming for @/pennyroyald

Nyarlathotep (Lovecraftian text) with the unknown, tentacles, and red sand for @/pennyroyald

Teruko Okura (Bungo Stray Dogs) with playful themes and weaponry/fire for anon as a gift for @/kimisbunny

Marcille Donato (Delicious in Dungeon) with insects and fog for anon as a gift for @/askmarcille

Nanamine Sakura (TBHK) for anon

Oomph (band) for anon

A stimboard of rain/puddles/waterfalls, dark blue/purple colors, and a calming and small feel for Vivli

Self-indulgent board for me (req. by anon, thank you :333)

Venti (Genshin Impact) with green, clouds, wind, and wine for @/pennyroyald as a gift for @/juniper-bunch

Þjazi (Fire Emblem Heroes) with blue/grey and themes of combat and power for anon

Alcryst (Fire Emblem Engage) with archery and forests for @/pennyroyald

Requests: Closed :3

If I forget warnings, I'm so sorry and I'll edit it in as soon as possible.

I don't warn for hands, food, and uncommon phobias, but I will ALWAYS warn for blades/other weapons, medical imagery, gore/blood (fake or not), and flashing images!!!

My older boards don't have alt texts as of the moment!

Blacklist, whitelist, and fandom list under the cut so that this post doesn't IMMEDIATELY look a mile long!

My blacklist and whitelist! My blacklist is stuff I either don't feel qualified to do or just don't WANT to do. My whitelist is stuff I would love to do or am interested in.

---

Blacklist (only a few things):

Countryballs/Countryhumans (Hetalia is cool, though ^w^)

Agere/petre boards for fandoms I'm not familiar with or don't have a theme

Shipping real people

Zoophilic, incestuous, or large minor/adult age-gap ships (This rule does not apply to vocal synths, since they usually have no canon.) (Also, if you want to request a ship that falls in this criteria and is from a fandom in my fandoms list, you're free to ask, just know I might decline.)

Whitelist:

Anything on my fandoms list, of course

Pride flags

Ships, as long as it's easy to find information on them!

Alterhuman stuff (FYI, alterhumans (fictionkin and otherkin specifically), I'm one of y'all 😁👍)

Real people and V-tubers, as long as it's not in a weird way.

NSFW sources, but only if it would be relatively easy to find SFW pictures

Sources that people usually don't accept (whatever people put on their blacklists all the time, idk. I see Hazbin Hotel and Boyfriend to Death and stuff like that all the time on those lists so stuff like that?)

Niche medias!!! I wanna know!!!

Music-themed boards

Slightly suggestive themes (no sexual nudity involved please why would I want to put that)

Fandoms:

Vocaloid/vocal synths in general

Touhou Project

Mobile Suit Gundam

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Cowboy Bebop

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun

Project Diva

Needy Streamer Overload

Project Sekai

Bandori

If what you wanted to request doesn't fit the whitelist or fandom list but isn't in the blacklist, STILL feel free to request!!!

[takeariskao3]

Dobnny microfic, i promised Hannah Kelce that I’d send you this. I hope to hear your thoughts. Hope I made you laugh, or feel like multishipping Dobnny 🥺 we are a small fandom but we are MIGHTY.

Dobby’s Confession- by Dobnny anon (should I publish and put it on ao3. Fuck what if I do a moodboard. 😳😳😳😳

Ginny had just came home to Grimmauld Place after six hours of grueling Quidditch practice. All she wanted was to shower and-

"Mistress Weasley, I’ve been waiting for you ever since Harry Potter has left to fetch some food from the grocery.” Dobby, her and Harry's elf friend, popped into the hallway of the abandoned Grimmauld Place.

"Hey Dobby, how are you? Did you find any trouble while Harry and I were gone?" Ginny asked him, knowing that Kreacher had tried to give the elf a hard time while they were away.

"Dobby is doing fine Miss Ginny. I just wanted to inform you that dinner is served in the bedroom tonight,” Dobby blushed furiously as he wrung his hands together.

Ginny blushed back, “Uhm, Dobby I think you have things confused I’m-

"Oh, but no, Mistress Weasley, the dinner is being served in the bedroom," Dobby insisted as he began taking off his sock and Ginny began to panic.

"Wait, wait, don't do that, Dobby. What I mean is... Oh, forget it," Ginny gave up, and sighed. She was going to have a serious talk with Harry about the elves when he got back.

"Dobby has a confession to make, it's been eating him up ever since he heard Master Harry say it," Dobby said as his ears began twitching.

"Harry said what?" Ginny asked.

"Master Harry says he is going to make you moan like a banshee.”

Of all things Ginny thought this was the last thing she would have expected to come out of the elf's mouth. She could only stand there dumbfounded as the elf continued.

"You see, Dobby heard you two the other night through the fireplace. When you were saying how much you enjoyed the feel of the tongue and teeth and then the way you were moaning and screaming. You sounded like you were having a really good time. Harry Potter seemed very proud of himself."

"I was not moaning," Ginny insisted, even though her cheeks were flaming red. "And Dobby, what I had with Harry, well, that is a private matter between me and Harry, and it's not appropriate for you to talk about it."

"Dobby is so sorry Mistress Weasley, but please do not punish Dobby, I just wanted to say that I can’t stop thinking of the words you spoke. It excited Dobby,” the elf confessed.

"You what?"

"Dobby wants to please his Mistress too," the elf said, wringing his hands.

Ginny was flabbergasted. This was by far the weirdest shit she had ever encountered, and she had dealt with a possessed fucked up diary back in first year.

"Uh, listen Dobby, you're a good elf, and I know that you are grateful to Harry and I for giving you freedom and clothes and a place to live, but I'm happy with Harry, and I don't want to do...well...whatever it is you're suggesting-

Dobby only giggled and shook his head. "Dobby does not understand how Mistress does not see the obvious. Harry Potter does not please her enough if she has to ask Dobby to please her."

"What? No, that's not what I meant. Dobby, this isn’t-

"No, Mistress, please I see the way you look at him. But you fail to see the fire in my eyes. Dobby has been watching you since Harry Potter and you moved in here, and Dobby likes the way you walk. And when you sit on the couch. When you read those magazines, and your lips part and your hand touches the page, Dobby smells the magazine every night.”

Ginny’s eyes widened, was that why Dobby always insisted on picking up her Witch Weekly magazine after she was done reading it?

"And you know what Dobby really loves? It's when you wear the tight t-shirts. The ones with the low neck and the high waist. The ones that make Dobby think about touching you."

“No, Dobby this isn’t right, have you lost your shit. Wait did Ron put you up to this because I told Hermione that he didn’t like the pasta she had made him the other day, and-

"Harry Potter has the magic hands," the elf interrupted. "And the magic tongue. But Dobby knows he can do better. Dobby wants to touch you, and he can.”

“Magic- what the fuck are you on about Dobby? Listen, I think I need to go and lie down for a while, and you can tell Harry-

"Oh, yes, Mistress, please let Dobby take care of you.”

“No! Absolutely fucking not.”

“Dobby even made us a ship name-

“What in the Merlin’s saggy left ballsack is a ship name? Never mind, I don't care, I'm just going to go now-

"Please, Mistress Weasley, please, let me take care of you."

"No, Dobby, this is just wrong on so many levels, and-

"It’s Dobnny!” Donny shouted before Ginny could leave the room.

"Excuse me?"

"That's our ship name. It's called Dobnny. Dobby and Ginny, see?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Ginny said, shaking her head and pointing a finger at the elf. "You listen here, you little nutter, there is no us. There is no ship. Or aeroplane, or even broomstick! There is no Dobnny. There is Harry and there is Ginny, and that's it. We are just friends-”

"And Dobby has the magic tongue."

"Dobby, there is no magic-

"Oh yes, there is. Dobby has been practising, and Dobby is sure that he will make you happy. Dobby can show you how he has been practising. On... on a carrot," Dobby squeaked, blushing again.

“WHAT THE FUCK! Is that why we didn’t have any carrots- no-no I’m not even going there, I think I’m going to vomit. Oh, god-

"No, no, no, it was just once, I swear. Just to practise."

"Just to practise, are you serious right now. Are you bloody kidding me," Ginny asked, exasperated.

Before Ginny could end the madness of this conversation, she heard a chuckle. Better yet she heard his chuckle, that git was in here.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE, NOW!"

She was going to murder him. He had obviously put the elf up to this. He was in the room the whole time, and she was going to make him pay.

She waited in silence before shaking her head, “fine, guess you’ll be getting real close to your left hand-”

“Oi!” Harry shouted, as he shook off the invisibility cloak, and stood there, his hair a mess, his eyes glinting, and his lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

Ginny couldn’t believe he was smiling. She was going to kill him.

“Why are you so angry, Gin? You don’t ship Dobnny?” Harry smirked, his hands were in his pockets as he slowly strolled up to her.

"This is not a laughing matter, Harry! It's not funny!"

“I know it’s not, for a second there I thought you were going to jump on Dobby’s offer when he said magic tongue and magic fingers.” Harry bit back a chuckle as he watched Ginny glare at him.

"Why are you such an arse!” Ginny rolled her eyes, and shook her head.

“Simple. You left told you mum that me and Ron-”

“Your Wheezy?” Ginny corrected making Harry roll his eyes this time.

“Careful now, you know how I feel about redheads.”

“Oh yes, I’ll make sure you stay clear off aunt Muriel, just in case you decide you like older women-”

“Oi! Don’t make me vomit”

TBC?

Scale of 1 to Dobnny OTP, what’s my rating?

🥺

I AM!!!!! SHITTTINNGGG

@corneliaavenue-ao3

[awrkive]

hellooo! i love your work and how articulate you are when writing!! i was wondering if you had any tips or advice for someone who wants to start making fics & how to build a following? 🩷

(this got unintentionally long im so sosrry for yapping anon!)

ON WRITING:

in all honesty, just write and write!! i've written so much stuff starting when i was like 12. when i go back to my past works (ranging from fanfics to nonfanfics), i always cringe so hard cos theyre soooo soooo bad 😭😭 when you write a lot over the years, you're eventually going to see improvements.

also, i think finding your writing style really helps a lot! there are writers whose works are prose-heavy, those whose signature is purple prose, and those who write very simply. i fall under the last category 🤓

another thing is that, find the genre that you think is ur strength and make it a part of your branding(?). some are famous for their fluffy works, some are famous for their angsty fics, and some are famous for their smut. obv, you can mix all of those stuff but theres always something ur better at, and i think its good to lean towards that and leverage on it.

when you do get to writing, i think its important to take into consideration researching what youre gonna write about. it doesnt need to be extensive at all, surface-level research goes a long way!! i have to look up a lot of things while writing nb cos im obv not in tech nor an accountant nor do i habe chaebol friends or live in sk and my life generally is very far from theirs ijbol. it sometimes annoy me when i get to a part that needs some researching, but u really dont want to make it obvious to your audience that u dont know about this particular thing HAHAHA (you can put disclaimer anyway, jic)

the choice of pov is also really important!! i tend to avoid fics that are written in first person, so naturally, i don't write that way. i do think though its kinda common consensus for almost everybody. but its also just a personal preference. i dont think i've read anything thats in first person yet, but im sure my pre conceived notion about it has hindered me from finding a gem written in first person. at the end of the day, it all boils down to how well you write your stuff!!

one last thing; edit your work! your first draft doesnt necessarily have to be the final product. go over your paragraphs to improve some of the phrasing and stuff

ON BUILDING A FOLLOWING (TUMBLR)

i dont exactly have a big following on here lol but here's what (i think i did) to gain enough:

making your blog pretty-looking really helps a lot!! thats what i did when i first started writing on tumblr. make a mlist, navi page, etc. theres a lot of tumblr tutorials accessible on the internet so its not very hard

this could also be under the "making your blog pretty" thing but editing a landscape banner for your story can attract viewers 🩷 (or even those moodboard thingies) (ok i lied its more like a personal experience 😭😭 but i really think it contributes a lil something)

when you post, put it under the right tags to really hit your target audience. the tagging system was really messed up on here a few years back, but i think its better nowadays, so better take advantage of that

be responsive to comments and reblogs and asks! talk to your readers!!

and again, just write and write. the more active you are, the more you post your works, the more traction u get

thats all!! sorry this is so long KWNDKSKWJJD. THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMNET ON MY WRITING IT MEANS A LOT 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[haenxn]

advice to new moodboard bloggers?

hi anon!! I'm not a super experienced moodboard blogger myself haha, but ill try to give my best advice!

in no particular order:

ㅤ─∗─ interact and make friends!!! this isn't necessary but the moodboard community here on tumblr is so welcoming and kind. you'd be missing out on tons of fun people and interactions if you don't!

ㅤ─∗─ use hastags. this is assuming you're trying to gain followers! hashtags will help you reach those who aren't already following you. I suggest using relevant tags, like the subject of the moodboard (an idol and their group in most cases), colors, theme, and style. if you need help: looking at the tags others use is a great starting point! (and as a small side point: tumblr hashtags get less effective as you go down the list. so the first ones you'll put on will be most effective for getting on that tag and showing people who follow it, while the later ones will be less effective)

ㅤ─∗─ be creative! once again not strictly necessary, but having unique twists to your posts can help it stand out from others and draw them in. (at least I find myself interested when seeing a unique/creative moodboard) and having lots of ideas will help you keep posting.

ㅤ─∗─ try not to focus on numbers. this can be hard to do, and I fail at it sometimes, but not comparing yourself to others who have been here longer and have much more experience is important. it's rare to get tons of notes and followers early, so try not to focus on it. I think the easiest way to burnout is losing passion and thinking the worth of your board is tied to how many notes it has, which isn't the case!! there's some luck involved in the reach of your board, so it's important not to take the numbers to heart.

and finally the MOST IMPORTANT tip:

ㅤ─∗─ enjoy it!!!! enjoying creating moodboards and having fun doing it is the most important part of moodboard blogging in my opinion. it will help the longevity of your account and preventing burnout. making sure you create for yourself first and foremost is the easiest way to enjoy moodboard blogging and succeed, even if it's just personally. so I hope you can enjoy creating mbs and blogging for a long time anon!! :)

tysm for the ask, and I hope these tips helped! SORRY ITS SO LONG BAHAHS WOW ^^;

[bifairywife]

I'm so fucking devastated and there's absolutely nothing I can do to get back what I lost.

I use canva pro on my senior high school email cause it's for free.

They told us that after graduating shs, we have two years extra with it.

The expiration was last year... it didn't come. I went "oh my gosh!! maybe there's no gmail expiration!! i'll have my canva pro foreverrrrr~"

I got too complacent. I backed-up NONE of my projects.

They did an auto delete on ALL of us today. There was no one week warning. Nothing.

I don't know about the others but I lost. So. Fucking. Much.

I'm can't draw, I'm really more of a writer. But i LOVE to edit. I love making visual stuff. Putting things together, placing pictures and elements and playing with colors and font styles.

I lost a total of two AND a half years worth of stuff. A mix of stuff for uni, things i made for my parents, and most of all my personal projects.

Tons of presentations for classes (this goes back on grade 11 too,,,,, oh the memories)

Literally so much assignments?! Posters, presentations, AND EVEN MY FUCKING RÉSUMÉ

Moodboards on dozens of OCs (Layla and Dominic for Invincible, Devina for Elden Ring, Medina "DeeDee" for Trese, like 5 of my DnD PCs, Octavia and Marie for Nevermore, Lorena "Lorrie" for TOH complete WITH A WHOLE NEW SCHOOL I CALL MOONVEIL ACADEMY IT HAD A CURRICULUM AND CLUBS AND PRINCIPAL OC TECHNICALLY TOO)

Moodboard on the characters for my book (I got references for appearances AND outfits)

Presentations and notes on my ship AUs (mostly jaystephroy in the fashion industry, DnD style medieval fantasy, and this one 2004 movie with gerard butler)

Presentations and notes on my winx club reboot (so, so, soooo much fashion notes and references for the winx AND trix)

Presentations for silly fandom stuff that I was really excited to show to my friends and post here (potential of jaysteph as a ship, dilf ranking in invincible for that one anon, a very descriptive "what's in the bags" of cott seven, other rarepair ppts to get my friends to ship em GAH)

DnD templates for this campaign with my jhs friends (I had stuff printed out for my bard's SPELLBOOK and we could use so much of those edits for notes and extra character lore)

Personal stuff I made for myself (like that magazine style in landscape form about my life updates, a little modeling stuff I did to compile clothes inspo for winx club, this REALLY colorful and cute collages for my wallpapers)

Personal stuff I made for my friends (a couple of memes, birthday stuff, this really cute and sweet virtual scrapbook for "meet the members" with my college friend group)

TONS of invincible characters icon edits (they've been in there FOR MONTHS, the requests oh i am so sorry moots and anons)

A couple stuff i made for my mom and dad (they got to use them all so they're not wasted)

I'm just,,,,,, so sad I didn't get to back them up. I only posted some of them and sent even fewer wips to a few friends.

Honestly I think the biggest tragedy here for me is that I won't ever be able to recreate them. A lot of the texts and descriptions I made were written there DIRECTLY. I had lore. I had dialogue. I had details and stats.

Two and a half years of editing personal projects and assignments. Just. Gone.

There's absolutely nothing I can do to get any of them back. Now all I can do is grieve and hope that I can recreate them.

[imaginidol]

Updated MUST READ intro!!

Current status as of 21 Oct 2023: SORRY I HAVENT POSTED ANYTHING YALL I AM BACK IN SCHOOLLL 😭😭😭😭😭

My writing tips here!! (What works for me)

I dont use y/n. unless explicitly asked for in a request, I try not to use pronouns for you, either, so you’ll be commonly referred to as “love, my love, dear,” etc. my smuts are all fem assumed! taking any bg requests :)! If I have no requests I’ll keep posting whatever stories I can come up with for now 😭💗 if you have questions about old requests/pt. 2 fics PLEASE ask! chances are I’ve put them in an indefinite pause or I may need motivation/reminders to finish them for you! this blog is YOURS :)

nsfw/sfw MUST READ!!:

for requests, I will post your anon question with a link to the fic, and the fic will have a link to your request. I would encourage you read the linked requests if you want a summary/idea of what the sfw/nsfw fic will be about! (I only just started doing this so my older stuff doesnt have my usual pattern of linking both requests and fics to each other, so this is more so for the newer ones)

I think I'll have an indented sentence at the start of any fics that DO mention nsfw (and any author's notes that i leave are usually written in blue, see example on top of this post); other than that i believe anything that doesn't explicitly have a warning for nsfw should all be pretty sfw.

Although I don’t normally post nsfw and most of my stuff is sfw, i do this for fun so i'm not gonna be too strict on what you can/can't request bc it all helps me learn how to write more anyway lol

Lastly I don’t have a master list, I just kinda post and call it a day 😭 but I believe you’ll find some ateez, exo, txt, taemin, monsta x, skz, enhypen, maddox, and maybe a few more that i can’t name off the top of my head 😭

here’s some of my popular fics :)

Sfw: Mingi • San • Hongjoong

Nsfw: Yunho: Table Manners • Hongjoong: The Dressing Room • San: Making Choices

moodboards: I.M • I.M 2

my personal faves: mingi (nsfw) • wooyoung (nsfw)• baekhyun (sfw)

Thank you for stopping by and being as delusional as I am <3

-ii

[dracononite]

anon asked: hello! i adore your art and designs and you've inspired me greatly to pursue more colors in my own work/take inspo from my favorite things and put it in a design even if i fear it's "too much" ig my question then is, how do you take inspo and make things your own? i feel inspired by the world and other artist around me! but i also feel scared when i create something that im accidentally copying someone else, sorry for the long winded question! just thought it'd be nice to hear some of your creative process!

---

I'm assuming this is referencing character designs. I've seen a lot of anxiety around the visual aspects of character designs being too similar, but I personally don't worry over it. I keep in mind that nothing is completely original, and making character designs and specifically personal OCs, means doing so with confidence and fully catering to myself in what I want the design/character to be.

I think what helps me make unique designs is: I love to push unique features, especially facial features and silhouettes - accessories, hair, mobility aids and body modifications, shape language, even down to smaller details like scars, tattoos, piercings, which lend themself to fully fleshing out a character visually as well as who they are (like why do they have those features). I also am the type to lean into fantasy biology and have created many species for my headworlds (and by extension fanworlds), which many of my main characters are a part of, so that lends to making designs that are more unique to my tastes and style.

I tend to mull over a character's design in my mind for awhile before committing to the designing process. I like to know at least a good base of what I wanna do for a character, so I visualize and rotate their concept for days if not weeks or months. Usually this is most of the "drafting" work and keeps me from getting stuck when actually drawing them. If I AM looking for visual references to start from or to help with the designing process, I like to compile image boards on Pinterest for my characters to get a feel for them… this especially helps flesh them out after I've designed them.

But, if I have a character design in mind that I'm pulling inspiration from (such as I liked the concept, aesthetic or even specific markings), I do NOT pull up the design to reference. That's the easiest way to prevent "copying" someone else's character design, I think… I do like to pull up the design afterward or when I'm mostly through the designing process to ensure that they don't look too similar. In my opinion, if the designs can be mistaken for each other, then that's close enough to "copying" to be a personal issue.

This is all my creative process for personal OCs. For adopts I often start with a visual inspiration from Unsplash (I fave images to use as insp and in moodboards) or am struck with inspiration otherwise, and mess around with the design until I get something I like enough to consider finished/sellable. Not as interesting a process in my opinion, I don't put as much time and love into designing characters for sale, otherwise I'd wanna keep them all.

Hope this was at all enlightening!

asked on Retrospring!

[lgg5989]

Church Encounters Chapter 20

We are back with a new chapter for you guys! I hope everyone likes it. I have conceded to put the read more link on this post bc its so long, if it doesn’t work please let me know, let’s all hope for no more appearances of rude!Anon on my blog. 

This fic is written in collaboration with my bestie @barbiewritesstuff so be sure to give her a like and a follow! I hope you enjoy the moodboard, the previous chapters can be found on my Masterlist and the whole story thus far is posted on my Ao3! 

Tag list: @roosterscock @sydneyhlove @mygyn @inky-sun​

It had been two weeks since Jake left for deployment and you were beginning to worry more and more. Your doctor had been telling you that it wasn’t good for the baby to be so stressed all the time, but it was so hard not knowing what was happening over there, if his mission was going well, if he was sleeping okay. 

To take your mind off things, Bob and Maria had offered to accompany you to mass and then breakfast afterwards. You felt Jake’s absence the most on Sundays. He wasn’t there when you woke in the morning, he didn’t have anything sweet to say about your outfit, and you missed his homemade pancakes more than you were willing to admit. 

You had gone to mass early, Maria and Bob coming with you, because every Sunday, they prayed the rosary in the morning before mass began. You wanted to pray for Jake’s safe return home. Standing with Bob and Maria in your usual pew made you feel more normal than you had for the last two weeks. During the Our Father, Maria held your hand and when giving peace both she and Bob hugged you tight. 

The new priest that had replaced Father John was a kind man. He was significantly younger, barely over 28 and his youthful energy and wonderful sense of humour had made this the best mass you had been to in a few years. The homily had been good too, Father Daniel clearly knew his audience and related that Sunday’s reading to the hardships of navy life and deployment. 

You left church feeling slightly better, your worries a little lessened after seemingly hearing exactly what you needed to feel better. It also helped that Father Daniel came by after mass to speak to you. 

“Mrs Seresin?,” he called out; running after you, dodging running children left and right to catch you before you turned around, curtseyed towards the altar and walked out of church, “Sorry to hold you up like that. I just wanted to say that I knew your husband had been deployed. I have met Jake before, he’s a lovely guy. If you need anything while he’s away, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he said, taking your hands in both of his and giving them a comforting squeeze. He gave you a reassuring smile which you tried to return.

“Thank you,” you replied, your voice small and wobbly.

“Here let me --” he started, bringing up his vestments to get something from his trousers. Once he got access to his pockets, he took out a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled his number down, “-- That’s my number. Don’t hesitate to call.” 

Giving him a tight lipped smile, you took the slip of paper and walked off to find Bob and Maria. They were deep in conversation with Mrs Wilkinson, local florist and well-known town gossip. When you arrived, their attention immediately turned to you. 

“All good to go?” Bob asked, raising one hand to wave at someone. You turned around to find Father Dan returning the gesture, shooting Bob a wink. 

“You know the new priest?” you asked.

Bob hummed, “He helped with youth group Bible study sessions back when we partnered with the Sunday school for activities in the afternoons. He was actually one of the first friends I made when I converted. Dan coached me through a lot of things, especially when I got baptised. He’s a good teacher,” he explained

“I heard my name,” Father Dan said, clapping Bob on the shoulder with enough force that the man took a step forward to avoid falling over. 

“Yeah I was explaining how we knew each other,” Bob said, giving his friend a warning look, clearly trying to stop him from saying something.

Father Dan gave him a shit-eating grin, “Yes, we’ve been friends for a while,” he said as innocently as he could manage, “Saw you praying the rosary before mass,” he noted, the corners of his mouth twitching, itching to stretch into a smile.

“Daniel, don’t,” Bob warned

“Don’t what?” Maria asked, smelling blackmail material from a mile away.

“Oh, nothing,” Father said, “You’ve put me in a nostalgic mood, I’m afraid. ‘Can’t help but think back on the last time I saw you praying the rosary…”

“Daniel, I swear I--” Bob started but Maria waved him off, she signalled for Father Daniel to continue.

“Did you know I taught Bobby how to pray the rosary?” he asked, both of you shook your heads.

“Okay, right, that’s enough!” Bob interrupted, grabbing yours and Maria’s hands and leading you out of the church to the sound of Daniel’s loud laughter reverberating through the building.

He kept a hold of your hands until you got to his car where he watched you get in, afraid you would book it back to the church to hear the rest of the story. You wouldn’t have dared but with the way Maria’s eyes darted around for escape routes, you were fairly certain she had at least considered it. She got into the passenger seat with a pout. 

Bob drove you to a small independent coffee shop in town. It was a quaint little café, sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of San Diego, with its cute pastel wooden shutters, large flower pots hanging from the windows and adorably decorated windows. It looked more like something you would have expected to find on the fashionable end of Paris, than a side street of San Diego. 

“It’s my favourite,” Maria admitted as she pushed the door open for you to enter, “They are the only ones to do decent coffee.” 

“By decent, she means they serve way too strong coffee in cups the size of thimbles,” Bob whispered in your ear as he passed by you to scout out a table. Maria hadn’t heard his comment, too engrossed in the various pastries, sandwiches and salads on display to pay attention to her surroundings. So much so that she almost ran face first into a very disgruntled woman. 

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted, whispering it to you like it was a state secret, “We’re thinking of getting them to do the cake for the wedding, but they do so many other nice things that I really can’t pick.”

“Oh yes! How’s wedding planning going?” you asked, eyeing a chocolate donut the size of your hand. You pointed it out to the person behind the til and ordered a decaf caramel macchiato while Maria explained her vision for the day.

“We’re thinking of a green and like champagne colour scheme? So it looks a little rustic but still classy, you know. I think most of our decor will be like fairly woodsey so it goes well with the theme. The only thing that won’t match is the cake. I’m not keen on the naked cake idea, but it’s the only thing Bob requested so it would be so mean to refuse him,” she said, “then, obviously I’ll be in white -- or champagne, I haven’t decided yet -- and I was thinkin like sage green for the bridesmaids?”

“Oh! I was going to ask if you wanted to be a bridesmaid,” she added quickly, “I’d like to have my future sister by my side.”

“Technically I’m already your sister,” you answered with a smile and a warm feeling spreading in your heart

“I don’t need to be reminded of our very complicated family tree,” she laughed, playfully rolling her eyes at you as she placed her tray onto the table Bob had chosen and gave him his matcha with almond milk, and his chocolate coated waffle before placing her own matcha and cannoli onto the table. You sank down on one of the comfortable chairs and took a sip of your drink. 

“Anyway, what do you say about being a bridesmaid?” she asked.

“I don’t know… I’m really flattered, but I’ll have the baby and I don’t know how they’ll be. I don’t want to say yes and have to bail out at the last minute,” you said, leaving out the rest of your sentence, not wanting them to know that your biggest worry at the moment was to figure out a way to bounce back from your pregnancy.

“That’s fair,” she replied with a disappointed pout on her face, a second later, she stood up again, “I need the bathroom, be right back,” Maria said, putting her drink down and speeding off towards a small corridor next to the tills.

“I think I’m going to invite my parents,” Bob blurts out as soon as Maria is out of earshot, “Maria doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh,” you said, not really sure how to process that information. Bob looked at you expectantly though, so you forced yourself to say something, “Is Maria scared they’ll make a scene?”

“I think so,” he replied.

You thought for a moment before asking, “Do you think they would?”

“My dad would,” he said, “But I feel like I can’t not invite them, especially my mom. Technically, she never did anything to me.”

“She stayed with him while he hurt you Bobby,” you said rather sternly, “She picked him, that’s not doing nothing.”

“I guess,” he hesitated, “God gave me a lot of good things, and he gave me them… Maybe they’re not all bad?” he asked. 

You recognised those words as the ones you had thought when you were making up your own wedding guest list. That nagging feeling of guilt, growing more and more overwhelming as the list grew and you resisted putting your mother’s name at the bottom of it. 

“He didn’t give them to you, Bobby,” you said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm, “He gave you to them. You were the present, they must thank Him for you. Not the other way around,” you added, squeezing his arm. 

“What about Ephesians 6:1?, “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” Bob countered, his eyes glued to the table. 

Without missing a beat you shook your head before quoting back to him, “Ephesians 6:4, Fathers do not provoke your children to anger by the way you treat them. Rather, bring them up with the discipline and instruction that comes from the Lord.” 

“Alright,” he said, “Fair point…So you think I shouldn’t invite them?”

“It’s not up to me,” you replied. Bob shot you a look, “Fine. I don’t know what you should do. I obviously didn’t invite my mom, but you don’t have to do the same. Just do what makes you happy.”

“That is the most diplomatic answer I have ever heard. You should be president. The Princess Diaries taught you well,” he chuckled.

“I can’t believe you still remember that,” you said, laughing at him. 

“I look like a moose,” he quoted, his hands held up behind his head to look like antlers. 

“But a very cute moose. Make all the boy moose go 'WHAAAAA’,” you finished, sending you both in a fit of laughter.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I think I’m finally happy. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to move onto the next thing or get out of situations and I don’t think I’ve ever sat down long enough to realise I’m happy. I mean can you believe I’m going to marry Maria?” he laughed, “I mean not only is she smart, funny and drop dead gorgeous, but she’s also willing to put up with me forever? Tell you what, next time someone doubts prayer works, I’m just going to slide a picture of her over to them. That should do the trick.”

He took a sip of his drink, “And I have a family. One I love and that loves me, not because I can amount to something special but just because I exist. I don’t know when I started calling the Admiral dad, but man, he’s the only one that’s ever deserved the name. And Lizzie is … Lizzie,” he summarised, “She’s a powerhouse, she’s kind, caring, welcoming, warm. I never have to doubt that she likes and wants what’s best for me, because she’ll tell me. And I have no doubt that if anyone ever says anything bad about me, she’ll simply skin them,” he laughed

“Obviously there’s Pete, Matt and the girls, who are angels and I love them all,” he kept going, looking you right in the eyes, “And there’s Annie and Audrey, who, despite having met me twice, are already treating me like I’m their annoying little brother. I love it. I love the memes, I love the voice notes they send, and I love that I get a care package in the mail from them on a weekly basis containing nothing but cookies from that bakery they like.”

“And then there’s you. I’m so happy I got to be your friend, that you let me wallflower those shitty parties with you, and that you forced me to watch The Princess Diaries, Pride and Prejudice -- 2005, obviously -- 10 Things I Hate About You or even About Time, because I swear I became a different person after that film. I’m happy that you let me force you to watch Talladega Nights, Rush or even fucking Rodeo Rythm. But tell you what, you’re a better sister than you are a friend, and the bar is already pretty high. I just --” Bob wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. I’ve not always made the right choices, or been the right person. But fuck! I still get to marry the love of my life, I still wake up feeling loved and supported by friends and family. And I couldn’t tell you why the Lord decided to bless me like this, but I’m so happy He did. I’ve done a lot of growing up these past few years, I’ve changed so much and that is such a good thing. Everything I was, He made anew. He took me in like a lost little lamb, hurt and scared and he helped me find the people I was always meant to be with. He freed me from fear, doubt and loneliness and I am so glad that his mercy isn’t based on individual merit, because I think I’d be pretty low on the list,” Bob finished, his face showing the gratitude he felt towards the Lord for his new found lot in life. 

“Bob,” Maria said softly, appearing from behind the corner, having heard everything. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder,“Jesus bared the cross for all of us, not just the saints. His blood washed our sins away regardless of who we are and what we have done so long as our hearts are repentant. Whatever you have done, or think you have done, is not and never will be too big for God to forgive. The Lord doesn’t put you in situations He cannot forgive you for, but he does put you in situations He can help you out of. He is good, He wants what’s best for you. He loves you, so much that he brought you to us so that you could finally feel that love for yourself,” she finished, a few tears running down her own face. 

Maria pulled Bob into a hug and you felt a smile come across your face. The two of them were well suited and you knew that their marriage would be a long and happy one. Once the food had been eaten, you suggested having Bob over for the afternoon to keep you and Maria company. 

Your mistake, upon taking in the rainy day, and suggesting you play board games, had been pulling out Monopoly. It had been three hours, and you were still playing. Bob had bought Boardwalk and Park Place before proceeding to load them down with hotels. Now, it was a gamble every time you rolled the dice on that side of the board, you could pass ‘Go!’ and receive your two hundred dollars, or you could land on Boardwalk and go bankrupt. 

Maria let out a heavy sigh as she counted the money out, “six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred, and fifty. Mr. Moneybags,” she said before leaning back on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t make a good investment at the beginning of the game,” Bob said to her, a shit eating grin on his face, “Don’t worry honey, I’ll be incharge of our retirement accounts,” he added, patting her on the thigh. 

You laughed at the pair of them when Maria’s eyes flared and Bob’s grin shrank slightly. 

“With your winnings, we won’t need retirement accounts,” she in a sassy voice, gesturing to the handful of fake money Bob still had clutched in his hand. 

“I think we are going to need more than eight hundred and fifty Monopoly dollars for retirement,��� he replied, tucking his money under the corner of the board before settling back on the couch, shooting Maria a wink. 

Shaking your head, you picked up the dice and rolled, “Oh no!” you exclaimed, causing Bob and Maria to look at you with wide eyes, both of them immediately focusing on your belly. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m not due for another two months,” you said, rolling your eyes at them, “What a shame!” you continued your dramatics from before overexaggerating the disappointment in your voice, “It looks like, Bob bankrupted me!” you said, a smile now firmly fixed on your face as you scooped up all your money and handed it to him, along with your properties. 

“Hey! You can’t just quit!” Maria exclaimed, “You hadn’t even mortgaged those!” 

“The pregnant lady can do what she wants,” Bob said, looking at his fiancee with a grin and victory in his eyes. 

“How about the pregnant lady makes some dinner considering it’s now almost six?” you asked, trying to push yourself up from your place on the floor. 

Bob rose from the couch, offering you a hand and pulling you up to your feet, “Do you need any help? We can pack this up-”

You laughed, “I think if you don’t let Maria win, you might not be getting married,” you answered him, “I’m fine, I’ll just be in the kitchen anyway, I can still watch you two play.” 

“Alright,” he said.

“Let us know if you want any help?” Maria asked, since she had been living with you, she had seen first hand how quickly you could get tired in the middle of a task. 

You smiled at her, “I will,” you said before turning and walking into the kitchen. 

You turned on one of your and Jake’s favourite playlists before pulling ingredients out of the fridge. Tonight was roasted chicken breasts with baked vegetables, and rice. You preheated the oven and just as you hit the button to start it, your phone started ringing. 

Your heart started pounding in your ears when you saw the number, BLOCKED, flashing up at you from the screen. Sliding the green call button to the side, you put the phone up to your ear, “Hello?” you asked. 

“Is this a Mrs. Seresin?” a man asked, his voice gruff. 

You tried to take a deep breath, expecting it to be Jake, the unfamiliar voice startled you, “This…this is she,” you forced out. 

“Ma’am, I am sorry to inform you that your husband, Lieutenant Commander Seresin, is MIA,” he said bluntly. 

You didn’t hear the rest, because at that moment, you dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor, or so you thought because you could see it there, but the only sound in your ears was the beating of your own heart. 

“Y/n?” Maria called from the living room, “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but the only thing that came out was a strangled sob. Your legs started to give out, and you sank to the floor, your arms wrapped around the little life inside you. Suddenly arms wrapped around you and you could hear again.

“Who is this?” you heard Maria ask. 

Then, “I am his sister, Maria Seresin,” there was a longer pause before, “Who is your superior? Yes, your superior! How could you think it was a good idea to give a pregnant woman this kind of news over the phone?” she practically screamed. When you looked up at her, you saw tears streaming down her own face. 

“You will be hearing from the Admiral, I guarantee it,” she said before hanging up the phone and sinking down next to you and Bob. She wrapped you up from the other side and whispered into your ear, “It’s going to be fine, I promise he is going to be okay.” 

—

Jake knew a few things about the Indian ocean: it spanned over roughly 27 million miles, including the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea, it was about 12 thousand feet deep on average but with a deepest point at 24 thousand feet below water, and it made up about 20 percent of the Earth’s entire ocean volume.

What Jake hadn’t realised before crashing his plane into the middle of it, was how unbearably hot it actually was. The water temperature wasn’t too bad, having stayed at a cosy 75F since his plane went down, but the sun was unrelenting. He felt like he was on fire. 

Although, considering the crash, he probably was. Or had been. It was day two now, with no news of the search and rescue team and Jake was starting to feel desperate. Not because of any real threat of starvation or dehydration, but because his brain had remembered that the Indian Ocean counted about 19 species of sharks and he swore he could see fins out of the corner of his eyes.

His arms stung where his flesh had been singed by the burning jet fuel that had circled the plane when it hit the surface of the water, knocking him out cold for a few seconds. That had been his saving grace, really, since by the time he had miraculously managed to open the canopy underwater, he was far enough down that the fire wasn’t boiling him alive as he swam right under the puddle of kerosene to safety. 

His brain, unable to compute anything but the agonising pain of salt water on cuts, had grown quiet as he swam up, somehow finding a second to take in the scene. Away from humans, the water was clear. Fishes swam, dead leaves floated, and an occasional plastic bottle found its way to the fiery hell that had formed quite the considerable tower of smoke. Search and rescue might have found him already if he had stayed by the smoke, but Jake needed to survive and getting high off of jet fuel fumes didn’t seem like a good idea. It might have helped with the pain, though.

That had been day one, hour one. 

It probably wasn’t the right time, but in all honesty, he couldn’t remember much. Thinking was hard, and telling time when nothing changed at all was something he had never had to do before. So hour one eventually blended into hour seven and Jake’s attempt to keep track was already beginning to fail. Ever since he had hit the water he had been praying the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be, any prayer he could think of was sent up. He prayed the Our Father when the sun rose and prayed the Hail Mary when the sun set and he just hoped that would be enough to remember what day it was. He knew one thing though, regardless of how much pain he was in, or how much blood he lost, he needed to come home to you. 

Day two had just started or was about to end, it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that Jake was on the raft, and surviving seemed just a little more plausible. He was making baby steps back to you. Soon, he might even be able to reach for his bottle of water. He’d been taking small sips every few hours, trying to ration what little water he had left, cursing the fact that he had given Tiny some of it before the flight. 

His head hurt so badly, and he couldn’t quite tell why. Was it the dehydration or the impact induced concussion? The dry mouth, lips and eyes, and mind numbing heat were telling him dehydration. The vomiting, confusion and large bleeding gash underneath his hairline was telling him concussion. Not that it mattered, since it wasn’t his only problem. Jake was fairly certain he had broken his leg, and considering his chest hurt he thought he might have broken a couple ribs too. 

The sun went down on day two and Jake fell asleep for a few hours, waking up just in time to catch the sky turning from starry night to early morning. And so day three started. 

He sipped his water and waited, feeling hot, in pain and slowly growing weaker. Ironically, as he grew weaker, his mind grew louder and soon enough, when he had no strength left to even shoo them all away, it felt like his mind was screaming. Still it grew louder and louder and louder, and then, nothing. 

The world went dark for Jake as he hunched over the raft and fell into the water. 

When he came to, he was on top of a mountain. Isaac and Abraham had just left, the leftovers of their sacrifice still on the altar, blood glistening in the sun. Jake stook a few hesitant steps forward, his leg dragging behind as he made his way to the edge of Mount Moriah. Before he could waddle his way there, a voice rang through the air.

“Jacob,” it called.

Jake looked around, trying to find who it belonged to, “Jacob,” it called again. He looked towards the sky and over the edge, but still he found no one.

It called him again, shaking the mountain and dropping him to the floor as if it was shaking the very foundations of the Earth.

“The pain you have been feeling cannot compare to the joy that is coming,” God spoke. The wind on Mount Moriah picked up, shaking leaves on trees and bushes so that they lay almost flat to the ground. 

“Jacob,” He called again, “The ladder.” 

“The what?” Jake called out but no one responded, “THE WHAT?” he repeated, his voice swallowed by a growing noise. It sounded strangely symmetrical and terribly familiar.

“THE WHAT?” he screamed, his voice rough with disuse and lack of lubrication. The wind whipped sand into his face, stinging his skin, and Jake closed his eyes.

“THE LADDER, CAN YOU GRAB IT?” someone replied, the voice of God replaced by a woman he had never heard before. Jake’s eyes flew open to reveal the Search and Rescue Helicopter. 

Jake reached for the ladder and grabbed it, trying to pull himself up on it. A flash of pain tore through his body, emanating from his chest and he was forced to let go. He fell back into the water with a gasp, his lungs filling with ocean water. A hand reached down to pull him up but the world faded back to black before he broke the surface.

----

Your group on the floor was interrupted by the phone ringing again. This time you didn’t even move to reach for it, your body numb and your mind racing with the information, Jake was missing. 

“Hello?” you heard Bob say, “Yes, we are with her,” it was quiet a moment longer before he spoke again, “I will let them both know, be safe.” 

Maria brought her tear stained face up from your shoulder, “Who was that?” 

“Your mom,” he answered quickly, “Her and your dad are on their way to the airport, they bought a ticket for the first flight out.” 

You felt like you were in a trance, “Good, good,” you said. 

“Are you okay?” Maria asked, her face full of concern. 

Before you could answer, pain ripped through your abdomen and you hunched forwards letting out a groan, “Owww.” 

“Oh my God,” Maria said, her eyes getting wide, “Is that?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, your teeth clenched together in pain, “It can’t be, it’s too soon.” 

When the pain subsided, you looked at her, panic flooding through you, “My water didn’t break, they can’t be coming this early can they?” 

You tried to stand up, but couldn’t, your centre of gravity too far off from your normal. Bob pulled you up gently and you felt fine for a few minutes before another contraction ripped through you. 

“What do we do?” Bob asked Maria, as they both watched you sink into the couch, both hands clutching your stomach. 

“Call Cyclone,” she said, pulling his phone out and pressing it into his hand, “Lizzie might know something, and he will definitely know about Jake.” 

After only two rings, the Admiral picked up, “Hello?” you heard, Bob had put him on speaker phone. 

“Beau, we need some help,” Bob said, his voice sounding more nervous than you’d ever heard. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeming totally calm as another contraction started at the bottom of your belly. 

“What’s wrong?” you shouted at the phone, “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know my husband is missing?” 

The line was silent for a minute before he answered, “I made the executive decision not to tell you that…” 

“Well that was dumb dad, because some fucking Rear Admiral called anyway and now I’m in labour, and I’m going to have this baby, and it’s too soon. How am I going to tell them about their father’s eyes or his..” you let out a grunt as the pain came to a peak, “His smile and how good of a man he was?” your question ending on a sob. 

“What do you mean you’re in labour?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“I mean I’m in labour, how much more of an explanation do you need?” you yelled into the phone, sobs now breaking up your words. 

“Oh shit,” he said, “I’m, we’ll, we are coming, be there in five minutes,” he stumbled out before the line went dead. 

Bob and Maria were both looking at you, your breathing coming in shallow pants, “What? He may be the Admiral but he is my dad and I reserve the right to bring him down a peg.” 

Bob just nodded but Maria scooted closer to you on the couch, “Honey you need to take a deep breath.” 

As another wave of pain hit you, you thought that this is what hell looked like. It wasn’t fiery heat and torture, it was an early labour, for a baby who’s father may be dead. All you could think to do in that moment was pray, you fell to your knees from the couch, bending over as far as you could, and the first words that came out of your mouth were, “Hail Mary, full of grace…” 

By the time you had finished the prayer once over, Bob and Maria had joined in. Your breathing calmed as you prayed and you felt the little one inside you settle at the sound of your voice, and your hands pressing gently to their feet. A loud knock on the door brought Bob to his feet and before you knew it, Beau and Lizzie were in the room, Lizzie kneeling in front of you on the floor. 

“Are you alright? Labour? Did your water break?” she asked, her questions rushed and her eyes searching over you frantically. 

You shook your head, “I’m not alright. I don’t know if I’m in labour. No, it didn’t break,” you answered before leaning forward and resting your forehead on her shoulder, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

The house was silent save for the sound of your stuttering breaths. Lizzie pulled you to her, rubbing your back gently as she whispered words of comfort in your ear, “It’s going to be okay, they’re going to find him, I promise. You aren’t in labour, it's the stress, take a deep breath honey. There you go, now another one. Good job. Just close your eyes, Jake is going to come back, he is a strong man and he won’t leave you and this precious baby without a fight, you know that.” 

The rest of her words were lost on you because at that moment, Beau decided to open his mouth, “I um, can we do anything?”

“You’ve done enough,” you said, your voice filled with venom, “How could you keep this from me? How long has he been missing?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said quietly, not elaborating on your other question. 

“Dad, how long has he been missing?” you demanded more than asked.

After a moment of silence he answered, “Almost two days.”

“Two days?” you questioned, “I could have been praying for him for two days? I can’t believe…I’m…Oh my God…” you broke down into another fit of tears, who could survive in the ocean for two days alone?

Your hands were pulled away from your face, strong arms wrapping themselves around you, before your forehead met soft fabric on a firm shoulder, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have told you, but I couldn’t…what if something happened? What if we found him and then you didn’t need this stress. You thought you were in labour five minutes ago, I just wanted to spare you the stress honey, your body can’t handle it.” 

You couldn’t find the strength to pick up your head, so into his shoulder you mumbled, “He’s my husband, the father of my child, the light of my life, I deserved to know, and I deserved to know much sooner than two days after you lost him.” 

Beau couldn’t find an answer to that, his silence speaking louder than any words he could have spoken. You allowed him to pull you closer to him and he brushed your hair away from your face, “I’m so sorry honey, they are looking. I promise you, on my orders they are looking.” 

Nodding your head, you tried to fight the tiredness that had overcome you, but against your will, your eyes drooped closed, and the world faded to black. 

When you woke up a few hours later, you found yourself in your bed, the blankets draped over you carefully and a dark figure slumped in the corner of your room. For a second, you had forgotten what happened, the phone call, the contractions, Beau’s bullheadedness, but in the five seconds you had been awake, it all came rushing back to you. 

You pushed yourself up to sitting in the bed, scooping up one of Jake’s pillows that you had stuffed into his favourite sweatshirt. Burying your nose into the fabric, you let out a quiet sob when his fading scent hit your nose, the notes of leather, whiskey, and pine were prominent and every now and then you caught a hint of vanilla. No matter how many times you had sprayed it with his cologne, it didn’t smell quite the same as he did and only this sweatshirt got close to feeling like Jake. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you had to choke back the instinct to scream. Pulling your head from the pillow you turned to find Isabella sitting on the edge of your bed, tears in her own eyes. 

Without saying a word, she wrapped you in her arms and the two of you cried together. There was something almost Biblical about it, the mother-in-law comforting the daughter-in-law. 

When you had run out of tears, and your breaths were coming in hiccups Isabella pulled back from you, her hands coming up to wipe your cheeks. 

“He knew this was a risk when he took this job,” she said slowly, “But I am happy that he has such a strong wife to carry on in his absence, however short or long,” she paused, seeming to think, “I hope you know that we will be here for you, whatever happens, no matter what.” 

You hugged her to you again, “Thank you,” you whispered into her hair, “You don’t know how much that means to me.” 

When you finally let go of her, she brushed away the last of your tears before standing up, “Let’s go see the others, shall we?” she asked, holding her hand out to you. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice rough from crying and disuse. You allowed her to help you out of bed and down the stairs, your belly no longer tingling with the pain of contractions. 

“There she is,” Lizzie said, her face brightening at seeing your presence in the living room. Everyone was gathered around the kitchen table, Maria had a rosary in her hands and her lips were moving quickly. Bob was seated next to her, talking quietly with Father Dan. Giovanni was seated at one head of the table and at the sight of you and Isabella emerging from the hall, he got up and came over, wrapping you in a tight hug. 

“Where’s dad?” you asked Lizzie, looking around for him, “I’m afraid I may have said some things I shouldn’t have…” 

“I think you said everything he needed to hear,” Lizzie told you, her voice firm. 

At that moment you heard a raised voice from outside, “I don’t care how long it takes or what kind of resources you are using, he is an asset of the US Navy, one that we have spent a lot of money on, and I expect you to find him, today,” Beau said, a note of finality to his voice, “And don’t think I don’t know that you went around my back Rear Admiral MacFarlane.” There was a pause before he continued, “Because the next of kin is my fucking daughter who is seven months pregnant, you think it was right to tell her that when she could have been home by herself?”. 

You watched as Beau’s face turned red and for the first time since you had known the man, he lost his temper, “I don’t care if that isn’t in the rulebook! It fucking should be, no one should receive that kind of news alone, especially if they are carrying one of our sailor’s babies. Find Seresin and do it today.” He hung up the phone and in a stunt that made you laugh, threw it across your lawn. With his back at the house, he put his hands on his hips and turned his head up to the sky, letting out what you imagined was a very deep breath.

You excused yourself from the room and made your way into the backyard, walking up behind the Admiral. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry,” you said, scaring him. 

He jumped, turning to you with one hand pressed over his chest, “You scared me, twice,” he said, walking towards you quickly and pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” you started but he cut you off. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should have told you about Jake, I just wanted to protect you,” he said, “But you are a grown woman and you did have the right to know, and I’m sorry you didn’t hear it from me.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist as best you could, your belly getting in the way, “It’s okay dad, just help me get him home?” 

“Of course, we are going to find him,” Beau said, rubbing your back. 

You stood there for a few minutes before asking the question that had been plaguing your mind since you got the news that Jake was MIA, “What happened?”

You felt him sigh before answering, “Their mission was going well until Prince hung Jake out to dry, saving his own ass. Jake’s plane went into the Indian Ocean almost fifty hours ago,” he paused and you knew the next bit of information was going to be what worried you the most, “They had no report of a chute, but his life raft deployed because there was green dye in the water at his last reported location.” 

“Why haven’t they found him yet?” you asked. 

“His transponder isn’t working and the boat took almost an hour to get to the plane’s location. Those two things combined mean he’s drifting somewhere out at sea,” Beau finished. 

You nodded, burying your head into his chest again, “Thank you, for working so hard to find him.” 

“I would do it for any of them, but especially him,” he said, letting out a breath. 

You stepped back from him and he took your hand in his, wrapping it around his arm as he escorted you into the yard to pick up his phone. The two of you walked in silence, him crouching to get the phone and then steering you both back towards the house. It was getting into late October, and the weather was cooling down quite a bit. You weren’t sure of the time, but the chill in the air made you think it was early morning. 

When you reentered the house, you found everyone watching you expectantly. 

“Yes?” you asked the room, looking around to see who would break first. 

“We have an idea,” Bob started, “We want to recruit the church, well some of the church to start a prayer vigil for Jake, until he is brought home.” 

Father Dan nodded, “We would send an email to the parish and then people can sign up to pray between certain hours so that there is someone always in God’s ear for his safe return.” 

“I think that sounds great, in fact, I’ll take the first two hours,” you said as you made your way to the bookcase you had decorated to be your little ‘shrine’ to catholicism. On top of the table was your rosary, Jake’s was probably in his bag on the carrier and the thought made your heart clench. Pouring it out of the bag and into your hand, you made your way back into the living room and took a seat on the couch, beginning the first of many times around the rosary. 

While Isabella and Lizzie were fixing breakfast, everyone in the house found some way to occupy themselves. Maria was cleaning, Bob was pacing the floor speaking quietly with Father Dan as emails from parationers rolled in saying they would help, and Giovanni was talking with Beau at the table, the two of them bent over a map of the Indian Ocean. 

When your two hours of prayer were up, you almost didn’t want to stop. The repetition of the words was calming and focusing on finding Jake was keeping the rest of your worries about the circumstances of his accident at bay. 

The day passed slowly, most of your time spent clutching a cold cup of chamomile tea to your chest while you sat in Jake’s recliner in the living room. Every now and then you would feel your little one move, like they were reminding you that you weren’t alone even in a room full of people. 

As you started to nod off in the evening, a blanket spread over you, the chair reclined back, and Jeopardy playing lowly on the TV, Beau’s phone rang. He looked up at the room before picking it up, walking into your garage. 

Immediately you were awake, getting up from the chair and standing in the living room. When he came back in, the look on his face made your heart race, he was happy. 

“They found him,” he said, “He’s on a chopper now headed back to the boat.” 

The relief that flooded through your system made your legs weak and you sat heavily back into the chair. You crossed yourself and thanked God, for bringing him back to you. 

Beau’s face turned slightly less happy and you seemed to be the only one who noticed it, “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice wary. 

“They said he’s pretty severely injured,” he said quietly, “They expect several ribs to be broken, and he has a broken leg. In addition to that he is suffering from a concussion, severe dehydration, and sun poisoning. Once they get him to the carrier they are going to update me again on his condition before they load him on a plane back to North Island.”

The relief that you had been feeling was swept away from you in an instant, it was replaced with an intense worry and fear. Was Jake going to be the same when he came back? How bad are his injuries? At that moment, your baby kicked hard. You rubbed over its little foot, “It’ll be okay, daddy’s going to be alright,” you whispered to your bump. 

Isabella voiced another question that you hadn’t the mind to think of yet, “When will we be able to see him?” 

Beau paused for a moment before answering, “By my maths, I believe he will arrive back tomorrow. Depending on his injuries they may not allow visitors or they may want to perform surgery if something is bad enough so I can’t promise a time, but tomorrow he will be here.” 

Everyone nodded along with his words, Father Dan asked, “Should I keep the prayer vigil up then? Just until he is home and through any surgeries?” 

“I would appreciate that,” you said, a sad smile coming over your face. 

Now that Jake was coming home, the relief felt through the house was refreshing, but you had your own worries about his injuries. That night, before you went to bed, you kneeled down next to it and thanked God for returning Jake to you. You prayed that he would recover quickly and you tried to keep the thoughts of what Beau had said about his injuries from your mind. 

As you climbed into bed and turned out the lights, you mentally prepared yourself for seeing him the next day. By the time you fell asleep, you were hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst. 

----

“ -- broken ribs, broken leg --” someone said, their voice sounding so far away, as if Jake was listening to someone speak through a thick brick wall, “ -- concussion and severe dehydration. His chances of survival are good, but recovery will be slow,” they said, becoming slightly clearer, “Physical therapy, and likely a skin graft surgery for the burn on his back.”

Jake coughed and silence fell over the room. He opened his eyes, eager to see you again, but the only people in the room were a greying doctor and a group of medical students, standing alert in their scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around their neck. They made him feel like a zoo exhibit.

“Mr Seresin, you’re awake,” the doctor said, moving towards him to check him over, “How do you feel?”

“Like someone tap danced on my chest,” he joked, his voice sounding strange as it passed through his bone dry throat. Speaking sent him into a coughing fit, the pain in his chest making him see stars with every movement. He gritted his teeth together and stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, hoping the pain would pass but it didn't diminish much. 

The doctor looked at him, then pressed a button and a nurse appeared. They exchanged words and she left again, only to come back a minute later with a syringe. Jake felt his heart drop in his chest and he tried to fight back, two of the medical students held him back against the bed and she sank the needle into his arm. A minute later, his eyes fluttered closed again, not before seeing your scared face in the doorway. 

“ -- Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgement on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practise the very same things --” a familiar voice read. 

 Jake’s eyes fluttered open, revealing Daniel lounging in one of the uncomfortable chairs by his bedside. He was wearing his regular clothes, a pair of black jeans and a white tee hidden underneath a half zipped up hoodie. The steady beeping of a machine to Jake’s right sped up as he looked around, desperately trying to find you. 

 The pillows piled high underneath his neck were making it hard to look around and moving his body was impossible but still he tried, straining as much as possible to look over any obstruction. He groaned and Father Daniel stopped mid-sentence. He closed his bible.

 “Jake, it’s alright,” he reassured him, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, “She went home to shower, she’s okay. She’ll be back. We’re watching over you in the meantime, you can go back to sleep,” Daniel said and Jake didn’t struggle, falling back into sleep’s open arms as soon as the words had come out of Father’s mouth. 

 When he woke up again, Father was still there, speaking into the empty room as if it were a packed church, pacing around the room and rehearsing that week's homily, “Judgement is very prominent in today’s society. We like to judge people for who they are --” he started and stopped, fishing a piece of paper out of his back pocket and checking his script, “We like to judge people for what they wear, what they own, what they do. We judge people for how much money they have, what they do with it, what their jobs are. I will admit that I have been guilty of that sin. I have looked at celebrities and criticised their appearance, I have scoffed at teens when they tell me they want to be influencers, I have caught myself thinking that some of the citizens of this fine country must have gotten their driver’s licence in cereal box tops,” Dan paused, checking his piece of paper, “All of these, regardless of how mean or menial they are, are bad. All judgement is bad. But the worst one in my opinion is one I encounter daily, be it through seeing memes on facebook, or hearing it from the mouths of my parishioners, it is the judgement we cast over others for their belief or disbelief of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

 “When we look upon others and judge them for the way they do or do not worship. When we look at their faith and tell them they are doing things wrong, when we look at their relationship with the Lord and think that they could do things better, we must remember that the standards we apply to them, the Lord will apply to us --” he continued.

 “Most people do get their licences from cereal box tops,” Jake said, his voice raspy and hard to understand. Father Dan turned to him.

 “Seresin, I have experienced your driving. That line was specifically directed at you I’ll have you know,” he joked.

 “How dare you, I will have you know my instructor said I was a delight,” Jake replied, pulling himself into a somewhat upright position.

 “Sure he did, you’re built like a mountain and you have the worst road rage I have ever seen,” Dan laughed.

 “Bob,” Jake replied, Daniel paused, giving his retort some thought.

 “Second worst road rage I have ever seen,” he acquiesced, “How are you feeling?”

 “You know, I have never been so aware that I had ribs in my life,” Jake joked, wincing only a second later.

 “No kiddin’... You want me to call a nurse or something? See if they can get you a pain killer?” Dan offered.

 “No, but I want my wife,” Jake replied.

 “I called her twenty minutes ago when you came to. She’s on her way. Bob’s driving though, so you can expect her to get here in a year or two,” he laughed, “We were taking shifts at your bedside so you wouldn’t have to wake up alone.”

 “I can’t thank you all enough,” Jake said, accidentally shifting his weight on the pillows, “Shit, that hurts,” he winced.

“You’re going to need to watch your mouth when your kid gets here,” the priest chastised him. 

“I got two months to kick the habit,” he replied, “How is she? Everything okay with her and the baby?”

“Everything is fine,” Dan said, “You sure you’re okay, bud?”

“I thought I was going to die,” he said, “I think God spoke to me.”

Father Dan smiled, “What was it like?”

Jake closed his eyes and tried to remember. As if projecting a film on the back of his brain the memory came back scene by scene. He felt the gravel of Mount Moriah underneath his boots, the stones sliding and rolling away as limped his way up the path. The sun was beating down on him as he walked but it didn’t hurt, it felt gentle and warming, almost like the setting Texas sun of his boyhood. 

Jake remembered the vague understanding that he had crossed Abraham and Isaac on the path at some point, but the altar confirmed it. The stones were red with blood, seeping through the cracks and dripping onto the ground. Jake, before he could stop and think, reached for it, using it to pull himself forward. He leaned against the altar, turning his hand around expecting to see it slick with the ram’s blood but it was clean. His name was called, shaking him out of his reverie. The voice resonated through the air, cutting through everything as though the volume had been turned down on the environmental noise. Jake turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of who the voice belonged to.

There really hadn’t been a doubt in his mind about who the voice had belonged to. He felt the words in his bones, flowing through his blood, his body reacted to it like he had never been made to do anything else. He still limped his way to the edge of the mountain and looked down, seeing nothing but grass, birds and people. He raised his head to the sky, but the clouds gave nothing away. 

The Lord called to him once more, sending a jolt through the earth that threw him against the ground. Jake braced himself for a wave of pain, but nothing came. 

“The pain you have been feeling cannot compare to the joy that is coming,” God said, and Jake knew it was true. As true as the fact that you loved him, that he was alive, that your baby would be born, that his name was Jacob Thomas Seresin and that God was Good and speaking to Him. 

The wind picked up. The breeze that had been making the air up on Mount Moriah pleasant and fresh grew stronger and stronger until it lifted earth and sand and spun it upwards into the sky. It blew until trees bent and leaves flattened. There were no more birds, no more insects, and soon the dust made it so that there was no more Mount Moriah.

“Jacob,” He called again, his voice swallowed by the wind, “The ladder.” 

Jake opened his eyes again and blinked rapidly at the cool white light emanating from the large overhead lamps.

“It was…Everything,”he said, his voice a whisper in the room. 

“What did he sound like?” Father Dan probed further, looking at him like his nephews did whenever they asked him to describe what flying was like, full of wonder and amazement.

Jake thought for a moment, “Hard to describe, really. Loud, I guess. Unmistakable? But gentle and reassuring at the same time. And just… I don’t know, inevitable. Like whatever he was telling me was certain, it would happen and I have no choice in the matter.”

Dan took a breath before speaking again, “Can I ask, you don’t have to answer obviously, but what did He say?”

“He said I’d be okay,” Jake replied, feeling strange about revealing His words. They had been spoken to him, and selfishly, he wanted to keep them for himself.

Father Dan smiled brightly, sitting up on his chair. He looked at Jake and let out a breathy laugh.

“Has it happened to you before?” Jake asked but Dan never had time to answer as just as he was about to, the door opened to reveal you. It felt like the world stood still, like the clouds parted to reveal the sunshine after weeks of torrential rain. It felt like taking a breath after diving underwater for too long.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey,” you replied in the same tone of voice.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Dan said, pushing Bob back out of the room before Jake could see more than the back of his hand pushing the door open further. 

“I thought you had died,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you made your way towards him. 

“Never,” he smiled brightly, “You’re stuck with me forever!” 

Jake stuck out his arms to ask for a hug, you sat on the edge of the bed so as not to hurt him but he pulled you into him, ignoring the agonising pain he felt when you leaned into his chest to squeeze you close, “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you replied.

----

Almost ten days after Jake’s skin graft surgery, the doctors cleared him to go home. To help while he recovered, Isabella and Giovanni had decided to stay, stealing the guest room from Maria and banishing her to the sofa. She grumbled and groaned for a few days but whatever Jake had asked her to do in the nursery was taking up half of her day, the other half being almost solely dedicated to placing the finishing touches on the house, to get it ready for the wedding. 

You hadn’t been in weeks now, but she had been all too happy to show you pictures. They had done some wonderful work. All bathrooms had been retiled, with new showers, baths and sinks installed. The bedrooms had been painted and carpet ripped out, and the kitchen had been gutted and changed from outdated to modern. In the livingroom and dining room, Bob had installed beautiful hardwood flooring. The garage, which could have housed two cars had been divided, one half turned into  Bob’s very own workshop. All that was left was to finish the attic, which they would turn into Maria’s art studio, and buy the furniture, which she was more than thrilled about. 

“I’m thinking maybe like, lots of white and light colours, so it feels very lit up. We have those beautifully large windows that show the yard, so I feel like we need to take advantage of that. But obviously I don’t want it to be too monotone? So I feel like we need a few pops of colour, you know?” She asked, leaning her head against the back of the sofa, “Did you guys have this much trouble decorating this place?”

“I’ll be honest, we had most of the furniture already and Jake painted everything in about a week. We got lucky, the house was in really good condition and the colours were pretty much what we wanted already,” you explained, rubbing your belly. Beanie had been making their presence known since Jake got home, sending their little foot into your tummy every few minutes. Recently though, their aim had gotten worse, and every other kick landed straight into your ribs. The only thing that seemed to improve it, was an extra large tub of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream and some belly rubs from Jake. Conscious not to let you eat too many calories, Maria had graciously offered to help you finish off your tub, and was now digging a spoonful out of her own bowl.

“So lucky,” she said, licking the back of her spoon, “I am so sore,” she stated, “I need a bath.” Maria stood up from her seat and left in the direction of the bathroom, passing her mother in the kitchen and her father reading the newspaper by the dining room table. It had been a quiet day, with everyone at home as rain poured down from the sky in thick droplets that left everything muddy. 

Jake entered the room. The doctors had asked him to keep moving to a minimum and to sleep on his front, two instructions he ignored almost immediately but it didn’t seem to hinder his recovery all that much.His crutches ticked against the floor as he approached you. You lifted your spoonful of ice cream up to your lips but your tongue never tasted the sweet treat, as just as you were about to, Jake swiped the spoon out of your hands and ate it himself.

“Hey!” you protested but Jake crutched away as quickly as he could, the spoon still in his mouth. He made his way through the living room and then the kitchen, scaring his mother in the process.You followed right behind.

“Non correre con un cucchiaio!” she shouted after him. Don’t run with a spoon!  

Jake laughed, “Non sto correndo!” he mumbled, I’m not running! Isabella rolled her eyes. 

You followed him to the nursery where you finally got your spoon back, but before you could turn around and walk away, Jake pushed the door open to reveal what was inside. You gasped. It was beautiful, Maria had truly outdone herself. 

The whole room was painted a crisp white. Even though the day outside was rainy, the brightness of the walls made the one window in the room shine with light. On the wall with the crib, there was a delicately painted mural. The wall itself had been painted a sky blue and a few puffy white clouds had been added to the atmosphere. A squadron of F18s was pictured flying across the top corner of the room, a two seater front and centre featured Dove and Hangman name inscriptions below the pilot and WSO seats. There was a smaller plane centred over the crib, its name place missing an inscription. The painting was realistic but also slightly animated, making it feel fit for a child’s room.

Turning your head, you spotted a changing table, painted a light grey to match the F18s, its knobs little bronze stars. Over it hung a canvas, on it in calligraphy was James 1:17, every good and perfect gift is from above. 

There was a grey rug in the middle of the room and in one corner was tucked a white padded rocking chair. Over the back Maria had thrown the blankets that Nonna had made them. Once you had finished your quick scan of the beautiful room, you walked over to the mural wall, stopping next to the crib, you brushed your hand over the little F18 on the wall, “What…Did…is this what Maria…” you couldn’t find the words. 

Jake came up behind you, he leaned his crutches on the crib before wrapping his arms around you, “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” you said with a smile as Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you stood in a comfortable silence, Jake’s arms wrapped around your midsection, you making sure not to lean too far into him as he was standing on one leg. 

Your bubble of peace was interrupted when Maria walked by in the hall, “Oh, so you showed her without me?” 

Jake let out a quiet laugh, “I wanted it to be a private moment, I didn’t know how she was going to react!” 

Maria just rolled her eyes, “I figure we can fill in the name spot when the little one gets here,” she said with a smile aimed at you. 

“It’s lovely, thank you so much,” you said, “I don’t even know what to say to be honest.” 

“I will take your speechlessness as payment enough,” Maria said with an excited smile before walking down the hall towards the stairs. 

As Maria left, you felt a little kick from your stomach. You guided Jake’s hand over it and smiled as he rubbed a finger over their little foot. Standing in the nursery, with your newly returned husband, you found yourself disappointed that the baby wasn’t there yet. 

Turning back into Jake, he hugged you as a few tears slipped from your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing your hair away from your face. 

You let out a sigh before answering, “I just wish he or she was here already, I want to hold them and show them this beautiful room.” 

“They will make their appearance when they are ready Princess, we just need to be patient,” Jake said, kissing your forehead. 

You let out a laugh, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” 

[susandsnell]

A brave success! My opinion of you is that you are such a sharp and thoughtful person with a lot of passion and grace, and as someone who wishes you well, it’s hard to see that sharpness constantly directed towards yourself. You are far better and more worthy than you think you are right now— and I hope that the people around you realize that and show it. Here’s to good things for you soon, and the confidence that they won’t be taken away from you.

💫

P.S. (also want to see your outfits or fashion moodboards now!

Anonymously tell me what you think of me.

I really don't know what to say, shooting star anon. I'm sorry if my behaviour is at all distressing or upsetting to witness, but I'm more preoccupied with the fact that this is exactly what I needed to hear from someone for a long, long time. Thank you so much. A hundred times, thank you. I hope your week is amazing, and your June is even better than that. Gosh.

(To address your charming postscript -- funnily enough I really cannot for the life of me get the handle on moodboards with what's the correct ratio of colours/concepts versus outfit and accessory pieces lolol. I kind of put together plans? It's a continuation of my childhood notebooks filled with outfit designs, themselves probably a product of my formative years being consecrated to the Barbie Fashion Designer PC game, but I'd def share outfits/how I style things over DM!)

[atrirose]

hi! idk if you were the anon who asked abt tagging you on my latest work but i’m so so sorry i didn’t, i only joined two weeks ago and i’ve never had to tag anyone yet so i didn’t know it was the convention,,,

i promise i didn’t mean to use your idea without credit, i thought linking the original post was the right way of giving credit and that you’d be notified but if that’s not the case i sincerely apologize

as for permission, in a similar vein, i thought liking/reblogging was the way to do so since that’s what moodboard/header creators ask for but i completely get that it could be different for writers

if you’d prefer that i take down what i wrote, just lmk and i will! if you're okay with me keeping it up, i'll tag you as soon as you give me the word — again, i’m really really sorry and i’ll be sure to go about things better when i get inspo from another user

hi babes i have no idea what you are talking about so i checked your page and it seems to me that you linked one of my random thoughts as jay oneshot that you wrote. it’s okay since you are new, it’s completely fine but as far as it goes whenever there was someone on enhablr who wanted to do something similar to me after being inspired by my work have asked me before hand in case im comfortable with it or not and it can be confusing i understand but moodboard creators have it mentioned as to how they want credits which does not apply to everyone here.

secondly it’s alright you can keep it up if you want i mean, i did see your rb under my post but i didn’t think of something you would actually be doing, uhm yeah also if you see someone brainstorming or putting ideas out there please ask them if you can use it or just leave it be as it can be disrespectful to some people (im not saying me but i want you to be careful thats all 😭🫶🏻) anyways so you can have it up dont worry.

as for whether anon(?) is me or not, it’s not me i actually had that anon informing about it too so i think they are the same people. BTW DONT SWEAT IT TAKE IT EASY.