[MYL] 69.4. Make a list of things that make you feel safe.

--Being armed
--Being indoors
--Sunlight
--Being held

(no subject)

So I've been having all these little impulses while dealing with the "let's not call the baby an 'it', mkay? " issue to say 'she' and 'her.' I don't know why, but I have. And today I talked to Val. She seems to think it's highly possible my hunch is right (actually she's pretty insistent that she KNOWS it's right).

...Though it's probably still safest to wait on the official word from the ultrasound before picking out nursery room colors.

If anyone else psychically gifted wants to weigh in, be my guest.

You and me, we're in this together now (rp for elementof_risk)

They were roomies.

It didn't seem to matter that they'd technically been together for over a year, or that they were getting married next month, or that they would have a baby in six months--they were roommates. Getting anything out of Julian when he was in these moods still took a team of wild horses. She tried not to let it bother her, tried to remind herself that it was how he'd been brought up, how he had to be, but dear God--a year. And he still failed miserably at communication.

Part of her wanted to snap and lash out and yell, still. She couldn't promise herself that she wouldn't, but she was going to try talking first.

She scooped Irina-the-puppy up in her arms--a feat which was getting harder every day and would be impossible soon--kissed the top of her fuzzy head in apology before sitting her down on the floor and taking her place beside Julian on the couch. In typical dog fashion, the puppy shook it off--literally--and trotted off into the kitchen, most likely to eat. "What's wrong?" she asked simply, settling against the cushions and throw pillows and propping her chin in her hand. Not much point in beating about the bush--especially after the snideness and the slamming doors and the nearly two bottles of wine.