#uhhhhh jesus I never tag stuff

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

ohhhh well this is going to be humiliating 😭

first of all. bold of this meme to think i have one single cohesive WIP folder rather than store random progress files in 7 different subfolders in various locations on my computer, and a handful just on my phone. HOWEVER. lets see how many i can track down tonight. second of all as i have stated before i am a CHRONIC writer-not-a-sharer so uhhhhh some of these are true WIPs i intend to finish Someday, some are truly abandoned, some were just character explorations i never even intended to share/post in the first place really. i truly do this for Me and everyone else is an afterthought for the most part, though once i start posting something I am pretty committed to Getting It Done Eventually now.

third of all i am leaving out any fic where i have the entirety shared somewhere. i don't move those to a new 'finished' folder or anything, they just live in the same place i originally saved them forever alongside the WIPs. I am ALSO leaving out the secondary documents any longer work has, which is usually "[original file name] Notes" because I like to use a split-screen approach with an outline/cut sections/random notes on the right and the working document on the left. Where the writing/notes are in just one same document, it's in the list as named.

Fanfiction:

Ascension

AndersJustice

BadThingsHappen

Coffee date

DeathOfClanLavellan

Fade regret prison

Fallout from the Fade

Fallout from the Fade (Doc2)

futility1

Gifts

Grannyquizition

Hawke hurt/comfort

hawke/lavellan convo

Headstones

lucanis

Lucanis character touchstones

Lucanis Lighthouse

Lucanis/Rook boat scenes

Lucanis/Rook lighthouse romance scene

marked up for the crows

MemoryViewing

MythalSolasBurial

NOTES Blackbirds poem

NOTES random/assorted

prompt starts

RyderXReyes

SAM&Ryder

solas poem series

SolasmancyPoem [note: this is not the same one i mention below/actually shared, its a diff concept i didn't use]

SPITE ROOK X LUCANIS INTERUPTION

sten

TrevXCullen

TruthSpellRewrite

[untitled phone note with a big mix of stuff in it]

Vivienne_preWEWH

aaaaaaand then there's the original writing. i am cutting off anything I did before 2017 because god i don't want to think about it

4

AVeryShortPoem

dragonpoem

Fynding

FEMS microbio flash fiction

i could be a wolf for you

love songs to the desert

methylation

NaNoWriMo2017

NaNoWriMo2018

outsiders

ORACLE

pandiculation

PoemsWorkbook

questionnaire

Two weeks to launch

VAULT

honestly i'm sure there's like 30 more original WIPs but it's 2:30am and i can't keep digging so i'm leaving it at the contents of the 3 folders i found first

and then i am putting this down here not as part of the game, but just because i opened the specific folder (and 2 other subfolders within it) and started laughing at the Mess. although it's "finished"/posted so not technically a WIP, this is all my version control documents for Like Teeth Against His Heart which was part of a collaborative zine. so instead of winging it I had my bff beta for me so kept re-saving new copies... I actually have NO IDEA which of these is the REAL final one anymore to be honest. in case any artists out there wondered if the final_FINAL_real.jpg thing also happens to writing: yes.

SolasPoem

SolasPoemdraft2

SolasPoemdraft2_aligned

SolasPoemdraft2_aligned_pages

SolasPoemdraft2_alignedEdits

SolasPoemdraft2_aligned notes complete

SolasPoemdraft2_alignedEdits2

SolasPoem_Final

Jade_Solasmancy_Final

Jade_Solasmancy_Final+Previews

Jade_Solasmancy_FinalNotes

PROPOSED_EDITS_Jade_Solasmancy_FinalNotes

Jade_Solasmancy_FinalNotes_condensed

PROPOSED_EDITS_Jade_Solasmancy_FinalNotes_condensed

jesus christ. anyway. can you tell i'm unmedicated for adhd. well! onward and tagging a random assortment of folks because i can NOT tag 50+ entire people:

@m-m-m-myysurana @anonymous-inquisitor @thebookworm0001 @pikapeppa @sageadvice @bdafic @fourthage

but consider this an open invitation to anyone to share this & tag me in you result, bc i wanna see what people are up to and need more writing friends <3

and thank you for the initial tag @baejax-the-great!!

[anarcho-puppy]

hiya! welcome to my blog! i mostly just rb or post for myself soooo... don't expect much in terms of consistency lol.

my pronouns are he/him/his, xe/xem/xers, or it/it's; if you misgender me on purpose, you will be blocked >:P

alive but gay

discord: anarcho_puppy

twitch: anarchopuppy084

steam: anarchopuppy084

youtube: anarchopuppy

i rb a lost of fandom stuff (basically just whatever media i'm currently hyperfixating on), but these are my favourite media:

DC (mostly batfam)

BBC Sherlock

Hannibal

ATLA (also kinda TLOK, but not as much)

Good Omens

OFMD

Marvel (debatable, not the new stuff, mostly just AOS)

Sense8

WWDITS

Jesus Christ Superstar (shut up, i’m a theatre kid)

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot (in relation to JCS)

The Dragon Prince

Amulet (i’m allowed to be a kid, okay)

Bluey (…very much allowed to be a kid)

HTTYD

ninjago

probs more, i just have a shit memory lmao

pls pls talk to me about my interests! send me asks!

just spent two hours organizing my blog so that i can actually find stuff... so here's a guide:

#puppy barks = og text posts, rants, etc. (basically just everything other than rbs, except threads i’ve added to and wanted to save)

#anarcho puppy (duh) = anarchist and an-com shit

#geo nerd puppy = history-related stuff (one of my SPINs)

#pub trans puppy = public transit-related stuff (another SPIN)

#puppy puppy = feral (sometimes) dog boy me

#poet puppy = started out as poetry but now it’s basically just me writing things

#arty puppy = my art and art rbs

#disabled puppy = disability stuff

#neurodivergent puppy = autism/ADHD shit

#nom nom puppy = baking/cooking/food stuff

#conlang puppy = conlang shit

#little puppy = agere/little me stuff

#faggot shit = uhm uhhhhh… yeah…

#mutual aid/gofundme = self explanatory (please donate or reblog!)

#my polls = polls (obviously /s)

#me = pics of me

#ask = my asks

#hehe = ...yeah i'm not doing so hot (memory loss, trauma, etc.)

#dc = self explanatory (#B, #NW, #RH, #RR, #R, #O, #steph, #cass, #duke, #alfred, #clark, #kon, #jon, #talia, #bernard)

#hozier = my MAN

#atla = avatar the last airbender (and spin-offs)

#sherlock = self explanatory

#tdp = the dragon prince

#hannibal = self explanatory

#go = good omens

#ninjago = self explanatory

#sense8 = self explanatory

#assortment of religious hyperfixations = jesus christ superstar, the last days of judas iscariot, etc.

#i’m gonna be a lawyer bitch = my latest hyperfixation; law, specifically landlord and tenant rights and responsibilities (an actually practical hyperfixation?? crazy… /s)

#covid safety = self explanatory and also really important

#musicposting = music shenanigans; maybe my music, maybe music i like, you never know

#live sound shit = mixing and the like

#L = iykyk

shut up, i know that there’s a shit tons of tags but it’s not for you; i don’t expect y’all to need a tagging system bc you’re probably not doing a deep dive on my blog, but i need to be able to find things, hence the excessive tagging system :)

DNI LIST:

zionist

racist

sexist

homophobic

transphobic

antisemetic

islamophobic

pedophile/"MAP"

self-described liberal

anti-communist

biden supporter

radqueers

transids/whatever the fuck you’re calling yourselves

etc.

yes, i know that dni lists won’t stop dirty, disgusting people from interacting, but it makes me feel better when i set clear boundaries.

and remember kids, i block LIBERALLY >:P

[trickstarbrave]

wip whenever

hiiiii i got tagged by @nocturance again SO it's wip time

tagging: @boethiahspillowbook @orfeoarte @soundwavefucker69 (fuck you show me ur stuff minty) @thescrolls-haveforetold ANDDDD YOU READING THIS IF U WANT A TAG

so far for pictures we got. these guys being gay. as always (i love when they stare and are so close to kissing but dont. the tension is what does it for me)

we also have almalexia in judith slaying holofernes but tbh this will prob take. a lot longer. jesus this painting is more complicated than i thought and i am. stupid. (nerevar is holofernes in this)

AND FOR WRITING: a part of moon and star in an upcoming chapter. warnings though for uhhhhh racism, sexual assault mentioned, and slavery justification. its getting messy and moraelyn is being kinda gross im not gonna lie. make no mistake though he is in the wrong no matter how much he has to justify it and he wont stay azura's champion for long.

--

Moraelyn had simply wanted to discuss things with the new head of House Dagoth. Sure, the lord was still young, but supposedly the hortator had been his canvasari. 

Moraelyn, prince without a crown or city, wanted to understand. Almalexia Indoril had promised Nerevar was a great champion who almost single handedly rescued Voryn from nord capture. She wanted to go so far as to name him hortator of two Great Houses, something that had never been done before. He wanted reassurance that this man would truly be of good help, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious. A couple of battalions, even led by the most clever commander, couldn’t destroy a dozen or so nord camps; not without a better explanation at least. And there was the matter of Nerevar’s mixed blood--the nordic nose, the softer shape of his brow, the texture of his hair and lighter tone of his skin--it was clear he was part nord. 

The prince couldn’t help but be suspicious. Sure, not all with mixed blood were traitors, but plenty were. Many chose to align themselves with the nords, cutting their ears to look more manish, adopting a full nordic accent, and selling their secrets to the enemy in exchange for refuge and glory. Others sold them out out of familial bonds--parents, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins with nordic blood were harder to kill for them. They were more loyal to the blood of frost walkers than the velothi. 

It wasn’t hard to see Nerevar being the same, especially when he already had trial by combat for treason. Of course he’d know about the nords’ battle plans that day if they were telling him the information. Of course he would be able to negotiate for Voryn’s freedom in exchange for a few secrets, all to bring him back and make himself look better. What was to say when they marched to Ebonheart he didn’t sell out Moraelyn and his men? 

But Moraelyn was not unreasonable. If there was an alternative explanation for Voryn’s freedom and his ability to defeat the nords, he would listen to it. Perhaps Voryn, who was there, would be willing to tell him. He didn’t see House Dagoth working together with the nords--they were suspicious, but he’d more so believe they join hands with the dwemer they were so close to than the frost walkers. 

The issue was speaking with Voryn alone. The chimer road in the same cart as Nerevar all day, and when they made camp stayed close by his side, eating and talking with him. Moraelyn waited, knowing if there was ever a time Voryn would be away from the half blooded chimer who clung to him, it would be when it came time to sleep. 

Yet, as he parted the House Dagoth tent--making sure there was still light inside so he knew Voryn was still awake, he jumped at the sight that greeted him.

Voryn Dagoth was awake: sitting up slightly, reading over a scroll in his cot. That wasn’t the usual part--instead what was concerning was the fact he was clearly bare except for the blankets around his waist…

And beside him, already asleep, was the white hair half blooded chimer himself, equally as nude. 

Moraelyn’s face flushed both in embarrassment and anger. Had Nerevar earned his position as head of House Dagoth through sex? It was a very good tool of manipulation, but he thought House Dagoth with their worship of Mephala would be immune to such a thing. 

“A word, Lord Dagoth?” Moraelyn asked, trying to keep his voice level. Voryn’s eyes were already narrowed at the interruption, his hand stopping the slow strokes he was giving to his lover’s hair. 

“Wait outside.” Voryn replied, getting up and tugging on a robe that had been left on the rug simultaneously. Nerevar beside him stirred, humming confused, before being hushed. Moraelyn wasted little time in retreating outside, disgust and anger bubbling away at him. 

Voryn Dagoth had returned, after what Moraelyn could tell was a silencing spell cast so the man sleeping inside couldn’t hear. 

“What did you need?” He asked, arms crossed firmly over his chest, clearly enraged by the interruption but trying to temper his reaction. 

“I had originally come to ask if you truly thought Nerevar was a capable enough warrior to liberate my city,” Moraelryn tried to hide the disgusted sneer and failed. “But I can see you were not as objective of a judge as I believed.”

Voryn scoffed in response. “Nerevar is more than capable enough. If anyone can liberate Ebonheart, it would be him.” Red eyes bore into Moraelyn’s. “Certainly better than any of your men could fare.” 

“Have you no shame?” Moraelyn responded, offended. “Just because he warms your bed that doesn’t make him a better fighter than the champion of Azura--” 

“Whether he warms my bed or not has nothing to do with his ability to fight.” Voryn didn’t back down in the slightest. “I’ve seen him battle with my own two eyes.” 

“Did he even battle to get you back? Or did he barter with nords in exchange for your freedom as his lover?” He could much more easily see Nerevar making jokes about how he wanted his elven paramour back with the nordic men and what he would have to do to make it happen. Yet, after he said that, Voryn gave a loud bark of laughter in his face.

“Had you seen him on the battlefield at that time,” Voryn’s face was now deathly serious, staring almost through him in an uncanny way that made his skin crawl, “You wouldn’t dare even joke about such a thing.” His words were stern, carefully enunciated. “Barter? With the men who desecrated my family’s tomb and ruined my mother’s funeral? Who tortured me and kept me in chains? Who were going to mail back my head?” Moraelyn always disliked the blood red of House Dagoth’s eyes; they only made his skin crawl when they spoke like this, like he was staring down Mephala herself. “He destroyed them. Slaughtered them like animals.” Voryn then turned his head slightly, sneering in disgust himself at Moraelyn. “But what do I expect from a house who is only kicking up a fuss that they didn’t sell him into slavery.”

“Selling half bloods into slavery is the right thing to do.” Moraelyn excused it. “Do you know how many of them are traitors? Who drove us out of our own city--slaughtering innocents in doing so--all to curry nordic favor? Who mutilate their bodies by cutting their ears and refusing to speak the velothi tongue?” House Dagoth, so far up north they rarely even encountered those of mixed blood wouldn’t know, but Moraelyn did. When he was still just a boy, still learning the sword, they clamored to kill him and hang his head from the city gates. They tried to trick him, using their chimeri appearance to lure him into a false sense of security, before trying to slice him with poisoned daggers. “And that’s not to say how many are the product of nordic men assaulted chimer women against their will, forcing them to give birth to their bastards like livestock just to torture them. No doubt he is just the same--”

Voryn’s hand grabbed him by the collar, but from the bloodlust radiating off him, Moraelyn didn’t doubt he’d much rather be strangling him. 

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Voryn growled, teeth bared like an animal. 

“Deny it if you want to.” Moraelyn glared back. “You haven’t had to see the horrors. I did.” Voryn then, enraged, shoved him aside, a spark spell dancing on his fingertips. “They are dangerous, disloyal, and violent. And isn’t a mercy to instead have them doing labor then forcing their chimeri families to raise them? To be reminded of the pain they had to endure?”

“Do I have to cut out your tongue myself?” Voryn threatened.

“Then prove me wrong.” Moraelyn challenged him. “Tell me his mother’s name and how much she adores him. Tell me about his extended family and all the praises they can give him.” Voryn’s hands clenched. “But you can’t, can you?” He asked now, knowing he was right.  “If you dare speak this nonsense in front of Nerevar I will ensure you will not live to see Ebonheart ever again.” Voryn finally declared, turning to go back to his tent. “Doubt his abilities if you wish. Get yourself killed on the battlefield from your paranoia for all I care.” The dark haired chimer shot him one last, deadly glare. “But don’t you dare speak to him this way, or I will be the one to end you, not any nord.”

[redmeansdead]

its a funny feeling to look up a book series I’m on the 6th book of on tumblr and have no results,, anyway read Nine Princes in Amber and the rest of the first pentology, highly recommend. It’s an older series and has some weird treatment of women at times, there’s implication of sex sometimes, and there’s sword (mostly) fights so, violence and injury. all the books are pretty fast pace and moving on to the next book feels like just another chapter of the previous book. I don’t even,, think I could try to describe the plot without spoilers. It changes your entire perception of the plot throughout the books multiple times, you gain more information, and certain things you think you’ve figured out get broken. I don’t even know where you would get a physical version nowadays so uhm. sail the seas under the black flag my guy, it took barely any time for me to find the entirely of both the pentologys

[vooole-moved]

i felt like i was left at the altar

[scenetocause]

hello I never use this but I got tagged by @acrosstobear to do this so hi I guess I'm AO3 user emptyhalf I write fics n stuff, here is my 2021 in review

stories posted: 44 - nice, the lewis number. some were on anon because even i have like, a loose sense of shame about things or just like, idk, there's a freedom to not being known isn't there? like i like i'm completely anonymous as a fic author (who am i? no one knows except that it's probably obvious i am bri'ish and know quite a lot about F1 maybe i am jon who knows) and then there's the even deeper cover of posting something and never telling anyone at all (except my fics are pretty obvious BUT WHATEVER)

word count: jesus ok so i like, worked this out and it caused me immense psychic damage to realise i published 134,841 words of fic last year. haha imagine if i had used that time for literally anything else. [utopia.jpg if emptyhalf actually applied themself to useful endeavour]

most kudos: it kind of sucks that kudos is so low in f1 fic? like i used to write in some other fandoms and it's noticeable that it's much lower even if the views aren't. i guess it's RPF and people are like, internalising shame about it or whatever (or maybe just disgusted by my filth i guess that too) but anyway, the most kudos-ed one from 2021 was (i) just wanna get a little bit closer which is my most popular mando by quite a long way for some reason. i think it's one of my laziest but i guess it hit the right combo of moving in vibes and timing or sth.

longest story: ignoring the queer compilation fic (much like, uh, i do every day as i realise i've still not updated it lol why, why am i this way) then it's turn your heart into something gold which didn't quite match time thrown down the well's original wordcount or, frankly, level of effort/inspiration.

shortest story: every breath that whispers your name which is really short by my standards (790 words) just some cute video calling u kno

personal favourites: it's weird how like, your own favourites are rarely other people's innit. i am way too fond of my own genders george and enjoyed adding two chapters to that universe, one on the fic itself and one as a compilation. i think i've been convinced to revisit it one more time this year so i'll have to move the compilation chapter into the main fic for continuity and lmao i do like to just create logistical nightmares for myself don't i ffs.

i also really liked no plans of staying on.

i am guessing everyone has done this already if they wanted to do it also like literally no one follows me because i never use this but uhhhhh have fun if you haven't done it yet and for some reason see this post lol

[catgrassplantdad]

Tagged by @squidyyy23 @energievie and @10x12 to do this fun fandom & random questions!

fandom:

when did you start watching shameless? this past february, actually! or maybe march? i didn't know when i started watching it that it was in its last season, but when we learned that the finale was imminent we binged the hell out of it and managed to watch the last couple of episodes live.

how did you start getting involved in the gallavich fandom? i started lurking around the gallavich tag and followed blogs i liked from there, and eventually started reblogging stuff on my main blog. i finally made this side blog at the end of april. i tried to get "involved" basically as soon as i made this blog and i posted fluffy headcanons nearly every day and interacted in the tags and started just trying to communicate with those few blogs i followed in the beginning. and it worked and i still interact with those absolutely amazing people now.

favourite shameless character? (other than ian & mickey of course): i just adore kev.

what plotline from the show irked you the most? oooh there are so many potential answers to this question. i think the one that made me cringe the most was gay jesus. the secondhand embarrassment was so real. there were times i couldn't even look at the screen, i was absolutely squirming.

favourite line from the show? i can't imagine being able to choose something like that, there's just too much to choose from.

fan fic(s) you can’t stop thinking about: there was a period of time where i had cg and lrpd open on my phone at all times. for like, months. i've never done that before. i never even used to read aus before! this fandom has helped me broaden my horizons but has also shown me that i can become attached to pieces of media to perhaps an unhealthy degree 😅

random:

the best concert(s) you’ve been to: the third time i saw afi always come to mind when i'm asked this question, but also deafheaven, baroness, and zeal & ardor played together once and that might be the sickest lineup i've ever seen. and the second time i saw khemmis was nuts. any time i've seen mastodon. i don't know! i go to a lot of shows!

comfort movie franchise: none.

piercings/tattoos?: nine piercings, ten tattoos but two of them are really little and some of them are really big.

most rewatched tv show: supernatural. there are episodes i've seen twenty times, maybe more.

pet peeves: people whistling or singing to themselves comes to mind, but i know i have others too. in some ways i am easily annoyed.

random fact about yourself: i don't know. i just forgot everything i ever knew about myself. uhhhhh

i don't think i'm gonna tag anyone since i've been seeing this go around quite a bit, but if you haven't done it yet and you'd like to please do it and say i tagged you! 💜

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt. 17

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 7.5k, uhhhhh sorry

Warnings: none. 

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK, or it will get lost in my notifications and I may not see it. 

Masterlist

“Ok, who do we call next?” You asked Chris. “Both parents, my brother is good. Let’s call Luke. Wait, you FaceTime Luke and I’ll FaceTime Liam and we can do it at the same time!”

“At the same time? Liam will get jealous if he knows I called Luke first.” It was late, you figured Liam ought to be awake by now. You and Ty FaceTimed your parents for almost an hour this morning, both of you waking early to do so. Chris just called his mom and spoke her excitement for another grandbaby.

“Yea it’ll be fine.” You both clicked their names and they started to ring. You took a deep breath and looked over at him, pecking his lips. He mimicked you, sprawled across the bed, propped on your elbows. You weren’t nervous, but there was something about actually saying it, and telling someone that you are pregnant. It makes it more real for you. Chris leaned his head to the side and slightly knocked his with yours before turning back to the phone, watching Luke pop up. His face was illuminated only by the light from the screen.

“Guess what?” Chris sang to him. You leaned over into his camera view and waved.

“Oh Jesus, is she knocked up?” A loud throaty laugh came from you, you threw your head back before leaning forward and putting your face in the blankets trying to hide the growing red. You felt Chris’s arm come over your back while he pulled a ‘my bad’ as a reply.

Just then Liam answered obnoxiously seeing both your faces on screen.  Chris repeated his ‘Guess what?’ and Liam cocked his head to the side at his brothers weird tone before he looked sceptical.

“Wait wait! Is the Mrs. home?” You asked quickly.

“Surprisingly, yes she is. MILEY!!” His voice echoed through his house so strong that it trailed through the speakers on your end. You heard her scream back a ‘WHAT’ just as loud.

“(Y/n) and Chris are on the phone.” His normal voice returned when she got closer, saying hi.

“Okay Chris, one more time.”

“Guess what?” You giggled at him this time. He was so excited he couldn’t keep himself from displaying it.

“Oh my. God,” Miley chanted, “You are getting married!”

“No! No, oh my goodness,” you couldn’t hold back your laugh, leaning into Chris’s side, one hand of yours going to hold the side of your head. Too much excitement.

Chris felt his breath get stuck in his throat, there is only one other person on this planet that should know about the ring. Good thing the sounds of his heart beating through his chest were one hundred percent masked by your laugh, the music to his ears.

“Then what else are you both so crazy for? You both make me sick with the lovey dovey stuff. Honestly!” Miley’s words were lighthearted, but you couldn’t help the look that comes across when he’s with you. Especially for so little jumps at a time.

You looked at Chris and whispered, “You tell them.” All while communicating a wince that tells him you were too loud for your own good. He placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head and turned his attention to the other two who were not so patiently waiting.

“We are having a baby!”

Chris loved watching you speak, your reactions to their reaction. He felt his face grow hot at his sister-in-law’s accusation, gauging your own reaction. Your laugh had died down quick and you bowed your head in your hand, he knew what that meant. It had only been three days. The bruising had turned new colors, and the headache was still going strong but you were talking and engaging more than the past few days, granted, he hadn’t heard you laugh like this in awhile. He watched you still get dizzy if you stood up to fast, watched you balance yourself as you walked through the house by grabbing various objects to keep you straight. It was all the small things that you probably didn’t even notice yourself doing, but he did. He watched you constantly, not just to make sure you were okay, but to admire.

You were so strong willed about not being lazy with your injury. You carried on as much as you could and spent time with your guests every second of the day. It was admirable, stubborn. The doctor told you to take it easy for a few weeks so you and the baby stay stable as head injuries can be fatal to young pregnancies. There were things you asked him to do, like if it required going up and down the stairs, reaching for things low and high, carrying things around. And he did them happily, a victorious smile plastered to show off.

The bashfulness was slowly coming back, it had been only days since he saw it, but it was so undeniably you. You blushed more and more often and he loved to make you purposefully. It never got old. The rose in your cheeks when you smiled away from him, diverting your eyes, a weak hit on his arm. The tease in his smile to make sure you realize he does it on purpose. He can’t help but admire it, want to kiss the rose from your cheeks, or lift your head so you’d meet his eyes while you blushed because it was only once in a blue moon.

This afternoon while you were leaning against the counter in the bathroom trying to pull up your hair. He came in the doorway and your silhouette made him smirk. He figured to distract you from the colorful bruises, he’d make you smile. He kissed your neck and called you beautiful in passing to his closet where he was grabbing shoes. His hands to in sync with his words, feeling your pregnant tummy every chance he got. That was all it took for you to not be able to look him in the eye. He was touchy, but made it so innocent that it drove you wild. It wasn’t meant to make your heart flutter, but it does and sends your mind into the dark depths, not meant for pure daylight hours.

You both ended your calls and sighed. Those two are so different. Luke was hanging up pretty fast saying he was already sleeping. Something you should be doing at this hour as well. You laid face first on the bed, your arms holding you up so you could breath but all the talk was catching up to you. As much as you tried and would never admit, it did feel like a weird ache, deeper than just a headache. It made your eyes tired, remind yourself to focus back on the screen where they talked back and forth.

Heavy hands rubbed across your back as the silence from the ended calls took over. Teasing fingertips under the hem until they lay against your bare skin. Nothing more than him knowing why you hiding your eyes in the blanket, resting your head, but it was comforting at the same time. You could drift… fall right asleep with his hands sliding down your spine… rubbing lightly up your neck and smoothing back down. Enough for your focus to go fuzzy with the weight of the beating rhythm in your skull.

“I want you to come back to the states with me, just for awhile.” His voice rumbled in your ear when you try to calm your heart rate, dropping into a shallow almost-there haze of sleep.

“What?” You can’t leave.

“Just for a week, maybe a week and a half. Come spend time with me.” Why does he have to talk? Just rub your warm hands across my skin and let me sleep, please.  It would be too selfish of you. The kids can’t leave, neither can you. India has school, it was non-negotiable.

“You know we can’t do that…” confused as to why he’d ask such a thing.

“Princess, you can’t drive. You can’t look at your phone for more than 30 seconds without rubbing your eyes. You can’t walk down the hallway without leaning on the wall.” You were more than capable of taking care of yourself, if that was what he was getting after. “You can barely shower (y/n).”

“Yea I get it,” you mumbled, trying to sit up in place. You scrunch your nose at how dependent his statements made you feel. There were times you liked to be taken care of. Like when he shampoos your hair, or when he cooks, but you were not unable.

“I know you can take care of yourself that is not what I’m saying.” He noticed the shallow frustrated look that was bound to grow on your face. “But with all three by yourself? I don’t want you to push yourself. For you, and for- for our little bean.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, laying over your crossed legs. He was watching you from his spot on the bed, laying on his back while he spoke, making sure to try and figure out what you were thinking. He does not desire to upset you, and you know it.

You didn’t say anything. And it would be lying to say you didn’t have a little thought about how you were going to handle it after your full house suddenly lost five adults and it was back to just you and the kids.

“Think about it. Relax for a week. Come visit the set, hangout. You can spend time with Miley, you just heard her. She’s been in the studio for the whole week, I bet you could tag along one day.” It did start to sound appetizing to your ears. To see him in his element, shining like the bright light he always was. A week, just the two of you. Free to do what you want. Fall to bed next to him for 7 more nights. 7 more nights where you can soak in the sound of his voice and the feel of his presence.

“I don’t know, what about India?”

“I called Elsa already, she can be here Wednesday, flight is the next morning. Plus, if you come, I have a major surprise. And I wouldn’t say no if I were you.” He wasn’t going to let you say no anyway, there was no way he could leave you with the kids regardless. It was more for humoring.  

“Two days! She’s going to be here in two days?” Why must he always feel the need to do surprises. You were a planner. Your planner, itself, was across the house on the office desk where you had left it the day everyone arrived and hadn’t looked at it since, hadn’t needed to. Before you could think anything else, your feet were on their way out the bedroom door to get to it.

You would need to give her the school schedule, the boys school plan that wasn’t even made. Oh dear god. Both boys have soccer practice on Thursday night. India has a small school play coming up, when was that again?

Your fingers found it and flipped through till you found this month, grazing it before turning to the detailed week. You are met with more of your scribbled handwriting for three dentist appointments on Monday and a little note off to the side reminding you should try to find some time to get a haircut, it’s not like you can cut it yourself like you do for the kids and Bri.

Ty leaves Wednesday morning, and then the room would need to be cleaned after they left and before she got here. How much time would-

“Would you stop a second? And look at me?” He turned you around at your arms with a look only you could not decipher.

“What? Do you know when she’ll be getting here?” You looked back down at the open planner folded in your hand and then reached back for a pen. You were going to have to write this down for her on the kitchen calendar. At least you thought you were before he slipped the pen out of your grasp and held it away as if you couldn’t just grab another.

“No, no just stop. The whole point of this is so you can relax. I don’t need you going 500 kilometers an hour trying to do things. Especially right now, you can’t injure yourself more.” You were calm, always were for the most part, why is he speaking as if you are not?

“I’ll handle it.” Now THAT made you laugh.

It bubbled past your lips. Chris looked confused at your sudden mood change, watching you try to keep it in. The laughter mixed in with a side of pain causing a weird wince in between.

“You’ll handle it?” You stopped laughing, biting your bottom lip to keep it at bay. He was going to clean the house? The loft? Make sure she had everything she needed? Pack his bag?

“Yes, I’ll handle it.” You were unconvinced, sceptical even.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head. You gave him the planner and stepped away from him, away from the desk. “I’ll allow it, but I’m not doing anything.” You raised your brows while you watched him flip through a couple pages from the past in the planner. Filled with scribble sand mark through the scribbles that let you know you accomplished something.  

“Okay, good. Thank you,” he looked up and was greeted with a wicked grin.

“Uh huh. I’m not goin’ to do anything.” You did not look away, making sure he understood what he was asking, what you were implying. You started to take a few steps backwards out of the room. You were going to go back to bed and not worry about doing anything. Not going to worry about the clothes in the washer that will get stinky if they do not get switched over. Nope, no laundry. Or the trash from delivery for dinner all over the counters. The kids. Okay, maybe you are allowed to worry about the kids but he was not going to know that.

“The kids too. When I step out of this office, and I go to bed, they are no longer MY kids. You get what I’m sayin’?” You were squinting at him. He was good at making himself look calm. There was no way he could be calm inside at this moment, it was a lot of responsibility whether he remembered it being or not.

“Love, go to bed.”

“Okay,” the octave in your voice was way too high. But you just couldn’t help but be sceptical. “Don’t be afraid to tell me when you need my help. My pregnant, bruised, and concussed helpless self.” His shoulders dropped when he realized how you were interpreting his plea for you to just let yourself take a break. You smiled a taunting smile.

He shall ask and he shall receive.

With only two steps you turned around and walked back to the bedroom, leaving him in there. If he knows what is good for him, he will take a good walk around the house and see what needs to happen first, and for that you wished him a goodluck.

You tucked yourself in, curling the heavy blanket around your shoulders.

It was not maybe 10 minutes later that he came in, shutting the door behind him. Or so it felt like 10 minutes, very well could have been longer but you were never going to be able to sleep without the fan on. You looked at it across the room. So close yet so far, and you were too lazy to get up so you tried to wait until he came in.

He looked at you and saw you staring up at him, “The fan,” was all you had to say before he huffed a chuckle and walked towards it.

You didnt turn towards him when he pulled the blanket over himself. It was a treat to him, and automatic doing so on your part was when he was home, he always got your attention one hundred percent. You huffed at him when he pulled up right behind you and slipped his arm under your pillow. He thrust his leg between your own and slug his arm around, his hand resting atop your belly.

“You made me lose my comfy spot!”

“Well then, be ‘comfy’ with me.” You shifted lower and tried to find a good spot again.

No such luck.

You turned in his grasp and faced him. Pushing him on his back before lifting your leg over his thigh and settling in the crook of his arm. You rested your head gently, finally finding a spot, but you knew if he started moving his arm it would hurt.

“Now don’t move! … Please.” They silenced coated the air like a blanket and you began to quiet your mind. Until he started to speak again.

“When was the last time you had a hair cut?” Just a whisper.

“What?”

“Has it been a long time?” He asked again. He saw the little note to yourself on the paper that was also tainted with scribbles all pertaining to anyone but you. He about burned a hole through the paper with his eyes when he glared at it.

It may be a simple thing that people could forget, but it is something that cleans you up, gives a little pep in your step when you walk out of a salon and it had been so long since you’ve felt ‘new’.

You had been thinking about it for a while, but were never able to find a time. You didn’t want to take the boys with you, from experience of having past clients being their kids in, it can get tedious. You almost just tried to do it yourself, dusting off the box with your seemingly ancient shears in them that was resting in the upstairs closet, but you knew there wouldn’t be a time for getting it fixed if it was botched.

Chris felt mad when he saw it. Not at you. Not really at himself. But at the clock that agonizingly ticked time away and never allowed you an hour to treat yourself. His hair was cut every three weeks like clock work, he didn’t even think about it but here you were making a note to yourself to remember and try to get one.

“I don’t, I don’t know how long it’s been.” He closed his eyes blocking out the dim moonlight from outside. This hurt him, just a sliver. What else had you not been able to do?

It took everything in him to not start making a mental list of how many times he had failed you. No matter how hard he tried to make sure you are taken care of, the material and shelter didn’t compare to the time it took to ask if you were taking care of you.

“I’m sorry,” He held on to more than he should of over a haircut. But it symbolized more and he knew it.

“For what?”

“I just- we’ll get a haircut this week. I promise.”

You didn’t have the heart to question how much it may hurt your head. If it was going to happen you were going to let it. “Ok.”

~

It was your last full day with Ty being here and you took them down to the shops, going in and out through every one. You didn’t buy anything, nothing in these looked very appealing anymore. You figured once you had seen them once, they were all repetitive.

The afternoon felt like it was forever long. Chris stayed at home with Tristan while Sasha wanted to come along. He was not a bother, what was bothersome was the heat and the bright sun. Not even your sunglasses could keep your eyeballs from squinting in the bright light, and you refused to try and cool off by pulling your hair up because for one, it would hurt, and two, you were not feeling like baring the nasty bruises to the world.

You and Sasha sat down in the restaurant while the other four would be there soon. You needed the cool air and to get away from the sunlight. Maybe you should have taken it easy and not have done this. Through you refused to admit it to the others and hinder them while they had a good time.

You ordered waters for you and the mini before taking the glasses off and resting your head in your hands, noting to yourself to never get a concussion ever, ever again.

“Sash, baby, make my headache go away.” He looked at you with worried eyes but you were sly and caught his hand before he went petting your hair. The thought that counts, he came to know that was your favorite thing, not unlike his father. Although it hurt you to say, you asked him not to play with your hair for a while.

The lunch seemed to drag on forever. You closed your eyes and leaned against the wall of the booth. Two tacos sitting untouched on your plate, very unlike normal obviously. They took note, but didn’t say anything in fear of upsetting you.

You had it boxed and slumped the entire way back to the car. They still didn’t say anything because they know how it made you feel at this point, unable, and you weren’t so shy about telling Ty and Bri to back off, and that you can handle yourself.

Though by the time you made it back to the house you were ready to just agree with them if they were to say anything. Every bump or turn on the ride was dizzying and uncomfortable. Even though you woke this morning feeling great, being active throughout the day seemed to worsen the symptoms if you weren’t careful.

When you pulled into the driveway, you noticed the two small ATV’s were missing from their usual spot. You could hear them before you saw them, coming across the yard. You dismiss yourself from everyone and went inside. It was quiet and just what you needed for a moment before frustrated tears got the best of you. You almost made it the whole morning and afternoon. So much progress, but it grows in your mind as a step back when it catches up eventually, inevitably.

The couch was inviting you to lounge and you did, laying your head back with your hands crossed over your eyes. There wasn’t much you could do to stop the uncomfortable throbbing other than try to calm your heart rate down. Useless.

The back door opened and shut but you didnt move. The position your neck was in was a bad idea all around and you chose to deal with that later than sooner, if possible. The cushion dipped and a cold hand met your thigh, giving you a squeeze. He pressed a small kiss to your chin, working as a hello, careful not to target the fading blue-green marks.

“Why don’t you go lay down?” His voice was gentle but filled with hate from noticing you in pain. He knows you don’t want to hide away, especially on their last day but were you any better to be sitting in their company in this state?

Your voice came as a whisper, “I don’t wanna move.” A knowing thought came through to him when you were whispering your words instead of speaking them normally. This wasn’t a good day on your end. “Will you take me?” Your voice cracked against the silent wind coming out of your mouth.

You hated it when he tried to carry you, playful or not. His brows furrowed, nodding his head until he realized you couldn’t see him with your eyes covered. The back door opened and he moved into action so the boys would leave you alone. It was Chaz who told him that you were having a hard time already and he should go check on you. He looked back towards them nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to you.

He was careful sliding his arm under your shoulders until your arms came down and he saw the tears you were trying to keep in. You were just so sick of crying all the damn time. Whether it be from pain physically or emotionally, it was so unwelcome at this point. You were not weak, but it’s just been a weird month or two. Nothing is as normal as it was.

Ty watched him carry you out of the room and disappear into the hallway that led to the bedroom without looking back. It sparked a weird notion in him, seeing you being cared for. It was a stark difference from your usual, and he just wasn’t used to seeing you need to be cared after. Of course there were times that he felt the need to check on you, see how you were doing but that was only because he felt it was his duty as a brother to make sure you were good. You were independent in his eyes, but far too kind for your own good. ‘No,’ he was pretty sure didn’t exist in your vocabulary until recently, and he watched you do life alone for so long, watched you be successful at it, even. This was just something different. He appreciated it, but it was different. Like he didn’t need to worry about you as he once did.

“(Y/n).” Chris’s hands moved away and pulled the throw to lay across you.

“Hmm,” you opened your eyes and wiped away the water surrounding them.

“Sleep, it seems to help.” He is not wrong. “I’ll wake you for dinner if you are not up yet.” You nodded, surprisingly not one to be stubborn at the moment. When your eyes closed he had to withdraw his hand that was making its way to your head. A habit that was showing hard to break for the time being. He kissed you gently and left you to sleep, shutting the door quietly behind him after turning the fan on. Ready to attempt to mask the shallow ping he got when he saw you in pain. It was bound to show in his features that he longed to be comforting you, but you would not want him in there when there were visitors. He knew that much. He has other responsibilities, like the two rugrats that follow Chaz and Ty’s every move, and the other due to be picked up from school soon.

~

“I’m really glad you came Ty. I’m sorry this week didn’t go as planned.” You have had your arms wrapped around his waist for almost a minute now. He just kept one hand on your back after acknowledging that you were not going to let go.

“Would you stop apologizing,” you heard him tell you, “I had a good week, we all did.”

He rolled his eyes at you, shrugging a shoulder when Chaz laughed at him for being stuck. “Besides, I won’t be gone for long. I’m goin’ to have a little guy to meet.”

“How do you know it’s going to be a boy?” You finally pushed off of him, rolling your eyes.

“He wouldn’t do me dirty like that? Would you?” He looked down as if he was talking to the baby. “No girls allowed!” He whispered for everyone to hear.

“If India were here I think she would dead leg you right about now.” You giggled, looking back at Chris who agreed with you.

Ty stood straight, adjusting his backpack, “Yea, that little girl still kind of scares me.”

“She’s not scary!” Tristan screamed from the breakfast table. “I can take her!”

You all stifled a laugh at him, high fives from the boys was the validation the little one was looking for. Bri broke the happiness with, “Let’s go already!”

It was a sad goodbye, but you didn’t cry. You excused yourself to double check everything upstairs to make sure they didn’t forget anything. It was slightly a test to see if Chris would stop you and offer to go himself but you and he both know your eyes are better at finding things than his, and he needed to talk to Ty before they all left.  

Emily and Bri both followed you up there and Chris waved Ty over, away from the door while Chaz eavesdropped from the breakfast table with the boys.

“I was going to do it, while you were here.” Chris’s worried eyes felt bad for not being able to share the moment with the most important person in your life. He was supposed to catch you sometime when you were in your element, laughing at one of Chaz’s stupid jokes, enjoying your brother’s company, sharing time with your best friend. Moments where you weren’t aware of anyone else was watching you, those were the moments that he felt his heart tug the hardest, but it just was not right this week.

You were not very stable physically, and though he would not say anything, probably emotionally too - trying to balance and contain your hormones the were not the same as they were 13 weeks prior. It just wasn’t right.

“I would have punched you if you did it this week. Sorry man, but good call. I have eyes, you should wait.” Chris laughed at Ty’s comment, relief flushing around his shoulders and body to his feet now that he had gotten that off his chest. “I am the first to know, sound good?”

“I’m sure she will call you first without my suggestion anyway.” Ty pat his shoulder and started walking back towards Chaz when he could hear the footsteps pounding down the stairs. Before he knew it, you were almost on top of him again, walking with his feet to the garage door, following Bri who held the keys.

The goodbyes were thick with something other than sadness. Your time was as good as it could have been, given the circumstances but the best of it was made. You have new silly pictures and videos of Ty with you. Ty with Chris. Chris with both Ty and Chaz. Surfing videos… it was good.

~

“I just thought I would say that you look really sexy manning the laundry room.” He was still staying true to his word. You weren’t much help, but got up to appreciate the view of him folding clothes out of the dryer and switch the loads. “It does things to me…” you said walking away. He heard you, no escaping now.

“Oh yea, what kind of things?” His tease was recognized as you smiled at the ground, walking back to the bedroom to corral stray clothing items to pack.

You both were pushing almost five weeks since you had been intimate, and it was completely, one hundred percent on you. There was no way the pulsing heart rate would be bearable inside your skull if you were to get things going at the moment. Strenuous activities were not on your to do list today. That doesn’t mean you never thought about it, but it was dangerous territory, pain for pleasure, for you at least.

For you. For you.

Not for him.

A lightbulb would be displaying its brightness to the world if it could, showing off your brilliant plan that had come to light. There was at least a will to try and feed a slow burning want that was a embering light in your core. If you couldn’t let it explode into flames, surely his own would suffice.

You decided to trail back to the laundry room, mischief was flooding through your chest. Ready to surprise him, to take him, and to love him.

You walked through the threshold and wrapped your arms around his waist. You were not paying attention to what he was doing, he could have been here piddling around for all you know, but you can’t focus your attention on that.

“Hi there,” he said. Twisting in your arms to look at you but you didnt move.

“Hi,” you squeaked, muffled by his shirt. His arms stopped moving, he relaxed and patted your hands that were across his midsection, almost as he was coming to terms with your position, and then he continued separating and folding.

Much to your dismay, he continued seemingly without another thought to your leach like tendencies on his backside. Palms planted flat against his abdomen. He was so big, so broad, and so hard - comfy when it mattered. He paid no mind to you, or so you thought, and it was slightly frustrating. You were not one to just come out and shout, “I’m horny!” to the world, but you got the feeling he was going to wait until you did so.

Actions did better. They always have. Slowly, your fingertips made there way under his shirt. They may or may not have skimmed necessarily low before rising again to brush across his waistband, back to their home. Flush against his skin and your ear to his back you could feel a slight shudder in his breathing. If only he could see the devilish smile that you were sporting. A girl on a mission.

“Have you got something to tell me?”

“Hmm, maybe later. I’m pretty content right now.” Yea that did not go over. Although he thought your shyness was endearing, and he loved to fluster you, you were asking for it this time.

In a flash he twisted himself in your arms to face you. You yelped in surprise but kept your head down, forehead pressed to his chest. He had a sort of eagerness every time you showed signs of wanting him. It sparked his heart rate and made his brain a bit fuzzy, a feeling he craved when you were together.

His hand hovered over your head, before gently sitting on top of your shoulder, squeezing it.

The black shirt has ridden up over your arms from your hold on him, and his skin was so warm under your touch it made you just want to melt and have him cuddle you naked for the rest of the day, but it was merely 12pm.

Though he knows what has filled the air around you both in such a short time, he can’t bring himself to act on it. He could hold off if it meant he didn’t have to see you uncomfortably clutching your hair, trying to hold it in and together later. Trying to hold together your tears and the furrowed eyebrows, at a loss of how to make it stop, how to make it go away.

“(Y/n).” That was his one and only sound off warning. It was to gauge your mood and tell you of his. You groaned, he wasn’t going to touch you even if you wanted him too, but that was not what you wanted.

You lifted your head and looked at him furrowing your brows. “Kiss me,” you demanded.

He lowered his head and met you in the middle. His lips were soft and gentle, pressing a wussy kiss to your lips, keen to pull away when you started to lean into him. It made your face hot, you could feel it trail down your spine, flood over your shoulders, a spark of nerves. You wanted more, to feel him want to touch you. Want to kiss you.

Your fingertips pressed harder into his skin, but no matter how much you wanted to kiss him more, if he didn’t meet you in the middle it wasn’t happening, they were too far away.

“Kiss me,” you said again, fighting back the urge to huff like a child not getting her way. The contemplated look in his eyes were all you needed. Who was he to decide what you could and couldn’t handle? You pulled your hands away from him and tore your gaze away, walking out of the room.

He didn’t get to act like that. The pity in his eyes was not something you wanted to stick around and view. Maybe he wasn’t trying, but he sure knows how to eliminate any mood and replace it with inadequacy.  

You needed to finish packing anyway.

He wasn’t refusing you. He was afraid to hurt you. His eyes closed, rubbing his forehead though it wasn’t going to get the look on your face out of his head.

Who were you kidding you had nothing left to pack. You resisted the urge to ask if he needed help. You climbed the stairs to the kids rooms slowly, longing to shake away the dizziness once you reached the top. They had been quiet for way too long.

They were not in the playroom, but after roaming you found them both past out on Sasha’s floor with… chocolate covering their faces. Where they got it was beyond you. You scanned over the room, counting the wrappers on the ground and the half eaten bite of a fun size Snickers’ in Tristan’s hand. Is this what happens when you are not in charge of them?

It wasn’t easy, but you got Tristan up without waking him and laid him on his bed in the other room. He stirred, but fell limp again almost immediately. Sugar coma, definitely.

Sasha was pulling his blanket off the bed and over himself on the floor when you walked back in.

“Hey baby, crawl in bed.” He listened and climbed in, closing his eyes as if he was never fully awake in the first place. You had nothing else to do, no laundry, no cooking, no cleaning, no school stuff, so... what the hell. You lifted Sasha over and climbed in with him, pulling the bigger blanket off the end of the bed to cover you both. You fit your arm under his head and shoulders, automatically tucking his head under your chin. The small unconscious action made you smile, sure your heart just swelled about 10 times it size. He was so good at comforting you and he didn’t even know it. It was his unspoken superpower.

You didn’t sleep, not with your mind sticking around with disappointment. Merely closing your eyes and letting your thoughts trample each other internally while you lie still, still enough to fake the sleep.

How were you to spend a week with him? The close cuddles and gentle caress of his hands over your shoulders in the dead of the night were routine, they had to be in light of the rare evenings spent with him. The hand laid to rest on the swollen curve of you belly was just that, laid to rest. How were you to spend a week with him when all you wanted was to jump his bones but he was afraid to kiss you, even when asked directly. You couldn't even think about sharing a bed in an empty apartment, with his large warm hands splayed across your skin, his breathe hot on your neck, pressed close, close enough to bask in his warmth and not jump his bones. It was going to be impossible, slightly tortuous.

That was you trying to reach out to him, to tell him you were not a fragile has he seems to have built in his mind. You wanted it, you could handle him kissing you more than a peck in passing. If you weren’t able to, you would be the one to know and manage, not him.

Actions were always better to get across, it saved you from the red faced verbal admissions that you wanted him. A flutter of your eyes and a smirk to match your sinking hands had done the trick before!?

The wince from his hands on your chin in the days past was burned into his mind and it flash like a neon sign everytime he urged to brush across your hair or hold you in his hand while he kisses you. He was flooded with a sort of shock that sank in his chest at the fear of it happening again. Almost as bad as the rejected look you happened to sport only minutes ago.

He would make it up to you. In the right moment that is. The right moment would have to consist of your carefree smile and brightness in your eyes, unsuspecting as he bowed to one knee with a small velvet box warmed from his hands.  

He would tell you that he could never resist you, and it was true. He could never purposely induced a feeling of inadequacy upon your life, and love for him. It was from the beginning, impossible to resist your eyes that were always drawn to care for others, and never yourself. He takes note of all the small things you do for him that you do not have to, probably without even realizing it. The smile you have when you walk into a room he was occupying, seeing him. When you scoot over slightly so he can always sit next to you, or scoot closer after he has sat down. A random kiss to his chest as you lay under his arm at night or run soapy fingers across his shoulders in the shower in stark contentment. You don’t notice you do it, but he looks forward to it and when it happens he falls in love just a little more every time. The glazed look in your eyes, he studied it, enough for him to look forward to seeing the mental picture when he lays his eyes to rest at the end of the day.

He was lost in the trance you bring over him, he had no idea how to ask you to marry him. How could he? You deserved more than any lame, small or large set up he could come up with.

His arms were loaded with laundry, his and the boys. He stopped in his room first, depositing over half the weight, and dropping the others briefly to find the ring of inspiration. He pulled the box from his suitcase and admired it, the gleam it set off.

No time would ever feel right, good enough for what you deserved.

The ring was discarded into his pocket before picking up the clothes and continuing on his treck to deliver them to the right rooms. It only took till now to realize how quiet the house was. Answers were brought unto him with the sight of a sleeping Tristan, and a few more steps to view a sleeping Sasha with you curled into him.

This was one of the moments that he felt a sliver of longing add to a box of admiration for you. Lying still with his own, treating them as your own. So close, but so far from the circle of jewelry enclosed in his pocket, a mere four feet from where you lay.

The clothes were placed on his dresser, opting to not put them away and disturb you. His footsteps came to a halt in the doorway on the way out. An idea coming to mind. He turned and pulled the small box from his pocket and phone from the other. He held the ring outstretched in his hand and took a picture of it while you lay with Sasha in the background. At peace and unknowing.

He put it back and turned to walk out when he heard the bed move. He flipped around fast, heart almost stopped from being caught while you sat up in the bed slowly to not wake Sasha. You didn’t see it did you? Had he missed you opening your eyes?

He stood frozen while you balanced on the balls of your feet and walked towards the doorway with him in it, sporting a neutral expression. Your lips smudged a smile quickly, gone just as it came. Fingertips brushing down his arm as you passed him to leave while he stood trying to debunk if you saw him or not. Surely not.

[captainshyguy]

o god i fucking....i fucken watched the death cure 

god it was one of the best things i’ve ever watched but it WRECKED ME 

ok i literally only have like??? 2 cons the rest are PROS HOLY FUCK AAAAA I HAVEN’T??? FELT THIS SATISFIED WITH A FILM/FILM FRANCHISE IN A LONG TIME THANK YOU TMR

cons

that random thomas and teresa kiss near the end??? lmao what (listen it dont mind book teresa but movie teresa is uhhhhh)

thomas wrote teresa’s name and NOT newt’s on the grave thing??? i mean im glad newt’s was still there and was centre stage with teresa’s but still lol 

PROS

newt lookin completely iconic at all times pre full on crank mode??? what a fucken ICON

i honestly think they handled the story changes really well but still kept to the story to the point where i genuinely enjoyed it more than the 3rd book 

they succeeded in making ava that rly complex character which is great 

tHEY BROUGHT GALLY BACK JUST LIKE THE BOOKS HHHH

literally all of the moments thomas and newt had together?? pOETIC CINEMA (i might go over all of the ones i can remember through the emotional cloud of tears currently circling my brain)

i actually really liked that they didn’t go the whole thomas and brenda route like i know we hear it’s been months but still it would have felt too rushed??? thanks for the nice platonic relationship wes 

jorge was great and im glad they didn’t kill any of the ones who didnt die in the books like frypan tHANK YOU 

literally evetything felt rly smooth and clean i lov??? 

they put bits in that were in earlier books taat they couldn’t fit in the earlier movies!!! rose took my nose i suppose!!! we’re all bloody inspsired!!! etc etc

god when they found minho and thomas and newt were so happy and !!! it was rly fucking sweet 

paradise looks really nice and just??? so glad 

i’ve always loved how they show how much the trio (and everyone rly) cares about each other like there’s so many good connections in the books/films and they did so well with those 

how in the glade they wrote the names of the alive and then crossed them out when they died but this time they wrote the names of the DEAD AAAAA BOOKENDS 4

newt being so fucknig sweet and selfless and not waiting to get the serum but instead helping thomas bc minho is their priority aAAAAAAAA

listen they bput so much more focus ontop newt’s death and all the others saw his body and it felt so much more impactful??? i was in complete tears and with the LETTER and everything (which i’ll be discussing in the next section c; ) 

i haven’t had many films or any piece of media that really made me feel so emotional and take me on such a journey but jesus fucking christ genuinely this film got me it was abolsutely incredible 

ok so super mega ultra pros aka thomas and newt things that GOT ME

ok but their connection was so genuinely strong and amazing in this film it REALLY made up for the scorch trials film lmao 

newt being his emotional stability until he starts succumbing to the flare  and then thomas had to become NEWTS physical stability??? POETIC CINEMA i mean newt was the ONLY ONE who talked thomas out of beating the shit out of gally holy fUCK

newt knowing that thomas was gonna run off and knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop him, so instead he tags along because HE’D FOLLOW HIM ANYWHERE 

wE STARTED THIS TOGETHER WE MIGHT AS WELL END IT TOGETHER

just??? all the hugs and pats and making sure the other is okay??? gOD 

when newt showed thomas the flare veins stuff and thomas immediately is like nope we’re gonna fix you, lmao mOOD

lmao the thing that caused newt to have that flare induced anger outburst was thomas still caring abt teresa?? listen im not saying it’s a good way to react bc...it’s not but still uhhhh   🤔🤔🤔🤔

god newt calling him tommy?? fuck 

when newt gave him that lil memento got me and the please tommy please??? mMMMMMMMMMMMMM

ok thorough the scuffle i couldn’t actually tell if thomas or newt ended up....killing newt but oh god fuck newt’s last word was tommy and god thomas looked fucknig broken and it was that (and beforehand, teresa’s promise that he could save newt) that had him go to teresa AAAAAA

speaking of, teresa KNOWING that bringing up newt would be the best way of getting through to him bc thomas cares abt him so much and needs to save him and aaaaaaa (listen....thomas is Bi he loves teresa and newt and he never gOT TO REALISE WITH NEWT AAA) 

‘could i have really saved newt?’ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA o god thomas has to live with that NO 

thomas literally dragging newt with everything in him because hr abolsutely refused to give up on him mmMMMMMMMM

o god the letter the fuKCING LETTER listen....it wasnt in the books o i DIDNT SEE IT COMING like i know there was A letter in the book but it wasnt as genuinely heartfelt and sweet and sad as that oh god i was full on sobbing and sniffling and oh god 

i cant remember the exact words bc oh god that was hard but newt talking abt not being scared of death but scared of forgetting was so sad aaaa 

the bit that was like ‘i knew i’d follow you anywhere’ and that he’d do it all again hHHHHHHHHHHHHH and him saying that thomas deserves to be happy and o god listen...newt was in love with his ass he was oh my fucking god and like...even if you dont believe that they still had the BEST dynamic in the entire gotdamn series it was genuinely beautiful i??? listen they were frodo and sam thATS WHAT THEY WERE AAAA IT WAS DONE SO WELL 

[highwarlockk]

nicknames: Ken

gender: female

star sign: taurus

height: 5′8

time: 10:57 am

birthday: May 3

fav bands: Fall Out Boy, Dvicio,

fav solo artists: Beyonce, Khalid, Prince Royce, Bruno Mars, Hayley Kiyoko

song stuck in my head: the family guy theme song please kill me

last movie watched: pirates of the caribbean: dead mans chest

last show watched: criminal minds

when did i create my blog: uhhhhh i don’t remember the month but like almost 5 years ago so 2012?? jesus thats a long time ago

what do i post: shitton of shadowhunters, star wars, politics

last thing i googled: singer zipper foot lmao i’m trying to sew a skirt and i need to buy a zipper sewing foot

do you have other blogs: um i made a like side blog like 3 years ago for my favorite pposts so i could find them but then i realized i could tag stuff so i stopped using  them and i just deleted them recently so not anymore lmao

do you get asks: like almost never lmao but i do love when i get them!

why did you choose your url: cos i love oscar isaac

following: 690 jesus christ i never looked at how many ppl i followed

followers: 687

favorite colours: green

average hours of sleep: 6-9

lucky number: 16

instruments: i used to play the saxophone in middle school but i doubt i still remember how to play lmao

what am i wearing: a harry potter shirt and sweatpants

how many blankets do i sleep with: usually 1 but sometimes 2 of the blanket is too small

dream job: astronautical engineer

dream trip: be like alberto rosende and go all over the place also puerto rico

favourite food: pho, boba (which is technically a drink but i’m counting it) hot cheetos, french fries

nationality: american

favorite song right now: Young Dumb & Broke by Khalid its my fucking anthem

i was tagged by @xwingfinn and i tag @latajinqueen @rockleerocksmee @pastandfuturequeen @bisexual-finn-dameron

[vardasvapors]

replies

crocordile replied to your post:                    Tagged by @crocordile and @imindhowwelayinjune...                

   YOUR DAD IS CUTE    

HE’S V CUTE. another thing he calls me about is asking if i can check out pool tables in various bars etc in the town (it’s technically a ‘city’ but lol) i live in to see if they’re level (they’re never level)

crocordile replied to your post:                   Tagged by @crocordile and @imindhowwelayinjune...                

   I’ve developed a revulsion for Middle Names in fantastic settings u have no idea   

   “What’s with these anglo-centric questions. ” x10000    

this reminds me, in a random tangential way, that garden-ghoul’s liveblog made me remember how much i would have preferred son of/daughter of to be expressed through interspersed placeholder words instead of the boring -ion and -iel suffixes.

thelioninmybed replied to your post:                   Tagged by @crocordile and @imindhowwelayinjune...                

   idk i always find boyshorts ride up? I am v. jealous tbh they are stylin    

huh i always found it like everything other than boyshorts ride up....? weird.

erotetica replied to your post:                   Tagged by @crocordile and @imindhowwelayinjune...                

   I love how wonderfully bitter everyone’s being abt the ‘ou’s    

I didn’t do ANYTHING i just copypasted this from June’s post >_> u’s are dumb.

bamboocounting replied to your post:                   Tagged by @crocordile and @imindhowwelayinjune...                

   I appreciate your jumping on the grenade of that comment chain=_=      

I’m very predictable/dependable. you can count on me to clog your dash with inane half-baked rambling.

simaethae replied to your post:                   gurguliare replied to your post:                …                

   i’m blocking all of you    

testimonial! testimonial!

garden-ghoul replied to your post: gurguliare replied to your post:                   gurguliare replied...

    this time I went back and read the whole thing from the beginning and it's STILL incomprehensible. I like it though. I'm very fond of y'all's tendency to immediately dive off topic into scathing critiques/literary analysis                  

HDU it’s not like all of these are based on unsupported free-association and massive leaps in logic or something. also the anon started it.

garden-ghoul replied to your post:                  gurguliare replied to your post:                  ...                

   also tolkien being anti-allegory is such bullshit, he’s just saying that so people won’t call him out for the allegories he is totally writing    

djkghvjdsfkj i admit i was mostly being tongue-in-cheek when i told gogol ‘omg no allegorical interpretations!’ but ehhhhhhh i tend to believe tolkien was genuine when he says he dislikes allegory and didn’t intend it, but I think that does sort of depend on what the bounds of allegory are -- i was thinking of allegory as one-to-one symbolism. I think Tolkien was probably focusing on disavowing “lotr is an allegory for WWII/the Last Alliance was WWI/the ring is the atomic bomb/mordor=hell/aragorn=jesus/no wait gandalf=jesus” sort of readings, as opposed to being about War (all wars) and Power (the atomic bomb among other things) and Grace (like religious worldviews, and yeah tolkien’s religious worldview is v catholic). I’m misremembering the quote, but it was something about “but of course, when you write feigned mythology you have to use specific language/images that overlap with allegory” so like, i guessss that depends on whether “allegorical” is only “this represents another story or concept, and it and the elements around it are designed to map onto the source material it is an allegory for”, or is “this particular element/character is totally stolen from [x real world or religious concept] even though it then runs with the issue and doesn’t wholly map” sufficient to make something allegorical. Like, obv morgoth is VERY transparently based on satan (though morgoth seems to be an especially blatant case lmao). and like gogol said, closing off allegorical readings is also prohibitive, just as enforcing them is.

but yeah I think tolkien’s more backstory-ish stuff gets into allegory much more closely than his more standalone narratives, but also intentionally pulls back to go “oops wait don’t answer that question” when it threatens to start closing off open ends - like near the end of the Athrabeth when Finrod and Andreth start to theorize Eru might have to enter Arda to save it but stop before getting too specific (so like tolkien would have had christianity in mind, but multiple religions do the “god etc enters into earth” thing)? and deciding to scrap the Tale of Adanel as too much of a bible reference as opposed to a more widely applicable premise of fallen humanity. Like i think the distinction is between “this story is based on X, among other things” and “this story represents X and its conclusion is X.” but like, the basis of the world in tolkien is full of a lot of catholicism.

uhhhhh anyway tl;dr: LIKE GOGOL’S DIAGRAM SAYS, writing stuff that is supposed to be applicable almost always includes allegories as well. THE ETERNAL ONION....