#Rachel please see this lmao

[emmaspolaroid]

i’ve got headaches and bad luck, but they couldn’t touch you, no

rayvio sketchdump. i will drag you all down with me 💜🖤

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

On Set Shenanigans || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

GIFS by me :) cred if use!!

Summary: just a bunch of random scenarios on set I thought of while I was in the shower lmao 🤣

Warnings: noneee

Wc: 1,553

A/n: sorta all over the place sorry lmao

Divider by @pommecita

“If you could describe Y/n and Tom in one word, what would you say?” Rachel purses her lips, side eyeing the two of you who were watching her with silly grins. “Y/n and Tom are,” Rachel hums, tapping her chin as she breaks out into a chuckle.

“Goofy.” You and Tom turn to each other and just break into laughter. “They are seriously the most goofiest people I have met in my entire life! There is never a dull moment on set when these two around,” Rachel shakes her head as she smiles at the two of you who blow kisses her way.

“Tom and Y/n, there’s a behind the scenes video circulating around of the two of you in costume, dancing to Low by Flo Rida,” “Oh my god,” You drop your head on Tom’s shoulder as the two of you couldn’t help wipe the grin off your faces.

“Yes, there is,” Tom laughs as they put up said video. “If you guys haven’t see it, here it is,” Dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, white singlet with his dog tag out, and you in your outfit, you and Tom were dancing along to your favourite song to dance to, Low by Flo Rida.

Rachel was recording the video during your break and was dying of laughter. The camera was shaking the entire time because of it. You and Tom loved goofing around and dancing.

You could say it was your love language. You grab Tom’s peacekeeper hat and plop out on your head slightly wonky as you move along to the song, acting as if you were at a club in Berlin and not on set. The way you and Tom danced and moved to the music just made so much sense.

“She turned around and gave that big booty a smack,” Tom spun around as you slap his ass causing an eruption of laughter from everyone who was watching.

You and Tom were trying to hold your composure but that failed miserably as you grab Tom’s arms to stabilise yourself but turned out he had no sense of stability at that moment as the two of you fall to the ground. A light scream leaving your lips as you fall on top of Tom.

And then the camera focused on the ground as Rachel had leaned over, hands on thighs as she laughed out loud. If anyone didn’t know the context of that clip, they probably would have thought that you two were drunk but truth was you were quite sober.

The crowd on set burst out into laughter as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, Tom laughing along with the host as he pats your head.

~

“What do you usually do when you’re not filming on set?” Tom gives you a look as you bite back a laugh. “I think everyone knows this but, film tiktoks” The crowd breaks into laughter as they knew what you were talking about.

“Yeah Y/n is always filming tiktok and forcing me to do them with her,” Tom grips your thigh, shaking it lightly as you roll your eyes. “No I do not, you always want to be in them!” You argue with him. “Why don’t we watch a few of them here?” Kelly Clarkson recommended as you squeeze Tom’s arm with a smile.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CQrdGn8AYiD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The first tiktok was of you, Tom, Rachel, and Josh in your trailer. You had the idea in your head for a while now and showed them all. “Please don’t drop me babe,” You say to Tom as you set up the camera, “I would never,” You hear him say followed by giggle.

You expected to land in Tom’s arms. Not the floor. You let out a yelp as Tom slaps his hand over his mouth. The three of them laughing their asses off while you landed on yours with a loud thud. “It’s not funny you idiot,” You slap his arm as he picks you up, apologising to you by peppering your face with kisses.

You had to admit it was pretty funny rewatching the tiktok. “You weren’t supposed to catch my feet!” You say in between laughs as you post the tiktok.

~

“This one, captioned name a better duo, I’ll wait has gone quite viral with over 10 million views,” Kelly exclaims as you cross your legs at your knees nodding your head as the video plays on the screen. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNVsM6kw/

“Tom,” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder as he hums. You had just finished filming a scene together and had abit of time before you were up again. You were both in your mentor outfits, Tom having his blonde locks today.

“I wanna film this tiktok, come be in it?” You urge him as he looks up from his phone seeing a glint of playfulness in your eyes as he lets out a sigh.

Tom secretly loved making tiktoks with you, especially since he wasn’t on it and found the stuff you make him do were interesting and funny. You had hundreds of random tiktoks that you filmed on set saved into your drafts, half of them were of you and Tom.

Your hair stylist helped film the tiktok as the two of you did it out in the open, a bunch of the filming team watching with curiosity and laughing as they walk by. Other cast members such as Josh, Hunter and a bunch of the mentor actors walked by ended up being in the background of it.

You and Tom moved along to the beat, literally just vibing to the music. You wrote on the tiktok “the funniest duo on set>>>” and you weren’t lying.

~

“We are here with the cast of the Hunger Games Prequel, the ballad of songbirds and snakes!” The crowd cheered as you, Tom, Josh, and Rachel smiles. “From what I’ve seen, you guys are actually TikTok sensations!” An eruption of laughter followed.

“This TikTok here specifically,” https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqguTEY/ you all turn your head to watch the TikTok play on screen as you all start to laugh. “Tom, where were you while this was happening,” The host looks at Tom whose eyes were trained on the ground, a grin forming on his lips.

“I’m actually there in the tiktok, on the bed. Trying to sleep.” He deadpans as you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder as you grip his arm. “Yeah this was after we came back from partying in Berlin, obviously for some of us, our night didn’t end yet,” Tom chuckles as everyone bursts out in laughter.

“Let’s do that tiktok!” You squeal the second you enter the room. Opening up tiktok, you find the video and show Josh, Hunter, Rachel, and Tom it. Tom’s arms were thrown around your shoulders, his head resting on your head due to the height difference.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” He yawns, kissing your cheek before you all bid him goodnight. Tom couldn’t even get 5 minutes of peacefulness as the four of you spill into the bedroom and set up your phone. He lets out a quiet groan at the noise and flashing of lights as he digs his head deep into his pillow.

~

“Babeee,” You call out as you step into the hair and makeup trailer. He was sitting on a chair, fully dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, hair free from his wig.

He looked more presentable compared to you and Rachel who still had hair rollers on and were still in your robes. You had seen a new trend going around tiktok where you would stare at a guy with Justin Timberlake’s mirrors playing in the background, and you wanted to do it with Tom https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqnRSNJ/

One side of his lips turns up as he looks up at you, “I’m filming a tiktok and I want you to be in it,” You say with puppy eyes although you know he wouldn’t refuse. You even got his hair and makeup artists, Stacey and Jade to be in on it too.

You pull up a chair beside Tom as you set up the camera. “Wait what am I supposed to do?” He asks, “Nothing, just sit there,” You innocently smile at him as he gives you a suspicious look but nods nonetheless, complying with whatever you were up to.

He honestly just expected to be on camera while you were doing something, but he did not expect to be stared down at by his girlfriend and hair and makeup artists. You stare intensely at Tom, trying your hardest to not laugh or look away.

Staring at your boyfriend has always not been an easy task, especially since he holds such intense eye contact. And his pretty blue eyes did not help at all. Tom tries not to laugh either as he gazes at you before his eyes flicker towards Stacey and Jade then back to you. “What’s going on,” He finally says as his body shakes from laughing.

The TikTok ends and you let out a small laugh, looking over the TikTok. You throw your head back in laughter at Tom’s face when you all look back to stare at him, honestly was priceless.

[paradiseprincesss]

Omg omggg I love having people to talk about our favorite supervillain!!!🥹🥹 I want to talk about this concept!! Hehe

Jonathan Crane would sooo love having an innocent gf, like just imagine Y/n being a family friend of Rachel’s, she’s a student teacher (studying to be a kindergarten teacher) and is living with Rachel through her collage years and meets Jon when some of Rachel’s court paperwork gets mixed up with Y/n’s teacher ones, like imagine she’s rushing to get them to Rachel and literally runs INTO Jonathan but gets knocked over and the papers go flying because he is a TALL man lmao. She’s profusely apologizing and Jonathan just has his eyebrows raised in confusion and a frown, which then turns into a smirk when she says she’s looking for her friend Rachel (Jonathan sees an opportunity to use Y/n to get to Rachel) Omggg but like imagine Y/n being oblivious to the danger and is just so sweet and adorable to Jonathan that he can’t go through with it🥹

His court look🔥🔥🔥

Who allowed him to be this gorgeous (and insane) WHO????

tattooed heart - jonathan crane x reader

masterlist

notes: i did not specify the readers major sorry sorry! but i had tattooed heart on repeat while writing this and i was like that song is jonathan cranes gf coded.

word count: 5.9k

summary: you're rachel dawes's college-aged childhood best friend and roommate, and one day your lecture notes get mixed up with her court documents. in a rush to bring the correct papers to her at the courthouse, you bump into none other than doctor jonathan crane.

warnings: smut 18+ mdni, swearing, kissing, p in v, creampie and general smut lol

as you were getting ready for the day, you applied your blush in the mirror, cheeks all rosy and pink, matching your soft pink nails. perfect, you thought to yourself as you added the final touches to your makeup, and looked through your closet for something to wear.

rummaging through your wardrobe, you settle on a white and pink floral print mini dress, perfect for summer, and pair it with some white stilettos. you did your hair up in your favourite hairstyle, and sprayed yourself with your favourite perfume.

you were getting ready to go to brunch with your girlfriends as it was a gorgeous day outside, and the girls from your college were planning to have a little get together. as you were grabbing your purse, your phone started to go off. looking at the screen, you notice it was your long time friend, rachel.

you were currently rooming with her since you were in college full-time, and the two of you were super close - inseparable, honestly. she had told you that you could move in with her, as she had a two bedroom home but she lived there alone.

the two of you go way back - she used to babysit you when you were younger, as her mother was best friends with yours. despite her being almost a decade older than you, you guys got along wonderfully. you had known each other ever since you were young, and the longstanding friendship between you two was something you both cherished deeply.

“hello?” you say, answering the phone.

“hey, so please don't hate me," she whines over the phone, "but i accidentally grabbed your papers instead of my court documents, i must've gotten them mixed up this morning."

"shoot - uh, okay. i'll be there in like twenty minutes and i'll bring them to you. where are they?" you ask her.

"the dining table, or somewhere in the kitchen - gotta go, see you in a bit. love you, your the best!" she says, hanging up.

sighing, you collect her stack of papers from the dining table, and grab your purse as you head out. the drive to the courthouse luckily wasn't too far off from where you were supposed to meet your friends, as the restaurant was only about a five minute drive from there.

putting your car into park, you grab her belongings along with yours, and step out your car, locking it behind you. as your high heels clicked against the ground, you looked around to see if maybe you could spot her. the inside of the courthouse was busy, and you were trying to find her as quick as possible since you knew this was a time sensitive matter.

you look through hallways and doorways, but didn't see rachel anywhere. you continue to pace up and down the halls, peering into empty rooms, trying to spot her. finally - you saw her standing at the end of a hallway near the back of the courthouse, and you rush over to her in your stilettos.

suddenly, with an "oof," you felt the wind get knocked out of you as the papers went flying. luckily, you didn't fall or anything, but every single sheet of paper did. as you glanced up, you noticed a very tall, (and very handsome) man in a suit and tie with glasses - and intoxicatingly blue eyes. the man stood at a good height of around six foot three, and managed to tower over you even with your high heels on.

"i-i'm so sorry." you say, flustered.

the handsome stranger raises a brow at you, seemingly irritated. he didn't appear to be too friendly, and he spoke sharply after you apologized. "you should really be more careful." he says to you, leaning down to help you grab your papers.

"o-of course," you stammer as he hands you the papers, "thank you, i'm sorry again. i was just in such a rush to get these to my friend, rachel, over there." you point to rachel, who finally noticed you, and ushered you over.

"miss dawes?" he asks, his tone shifting to something more curious, "you're a friend of hers?"

"she's known me ever since i was in elementary school. she mixed her papers up with my lecture notes this morning, so hence why i'm here bringing these to her." you say innocently, holding up the court documents. "i'm sorry, again."

he eyed you curiously for a moment, before smirking slightly. "that's quite alright. i never got your name, actually."

you tell him your name, and he responds to you once more, but his tone seemingly shifted into one much softer than before. "beautiful name, really."

before you had a chance to react, who you presumed to be another lawyer had rushed over to the two of you before speaking to jonathan.

"doctor crane, you're needed in the courtroom. mr. zsasz's legal team would like a word." he says in a hushed manner, before making his way back into the courtroom he came from.

"wait, you're jonathan crane?" you ask him with surprise.

you'd heard a lot about his work, it was phenomenal. he had made multiple headlines with his breakthroughs in psychology and psychopharmacology. his name was plastered on papers and articles, and he was very well-known in gotham for his achievements in his field, especially at only thirty-two years old.

"indeed i am." he says softly, and you could've sworn you saw fight back a smile.

"'i've heard about your work, it's incredible what you're doing." you tell him, to which he simply shakes his head.

"i respect the mind's power over the body," he says to you simply, "it's why i do what i do."

for a moment, you swore time stopped as the two of you locked eyes; his electrifyingly blue ones staring right into yours. however, that moment was cut short as a voice you recognized called out behind you.

"there you are!" rachels voice brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to turn around, "i told you to come over there, carl wanted to say hi." she points to carl finch, who was waving at you from a distance before returning to his conversation with someone else.

"right, sorry. i accidentally bumped into jonathan." you say with a smile, glancing at him, but rachel doesn't seem too happy to see him.

"doctor crane." she says as she acknowledges him unenthusiastically, clearly unimpressed with his presence.

"miss. dawes." he says back, just as annoyed, before changing his tone back to sweet and soft as he looks at you. "i'm afraid i have some matters to attend to, however, it was lovely meeting you. perhaps be a little more careful on your way out - don't want you bumping into anyone else." he said almost teasingly, before swiftly going back to where he was needed.

you smile to yourself, staring at the tall man as he walked away.

"don't tell me you bumped into jonathan crane of all people." rachel says, and you raise your brow.

"what? he seems nice, honestly." you tell her, but to that she scoffs.

"nice? god, no. i'm surprised he didn't rip you to shreds for bumping into him." she tells you, clearly irritated at just the thought of him. "i find it strange, you know. every time i try to get one of falcone's thugs locked up, he somehow gets the court to agree that their insane, and puts them into arkham."

as she was telling you this, it was going in one ear and right out the other, as your mind was too busy with the racing thoughts of doctor jonathan crane. his intoxicating smile, his baby blue eyes, everything about him was gorgeous - not to mention his height!

now, jonathan on the other hand, was thinking of you for an entirely different reason. yes, he found you to be pretty - beautiful, actually, he thought you were stunning, but that didn't stop him from seeing you as a means to get to rachel. jonathan crane was an opportunist, he was already plotting the second you told him you and rachel were practically sisters.

he figured that if he got close to you, he would get closer to rachel - meaning it would be easier to take her down and get her to stop sniffing around. he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do it yet - though he had a few plans that he'd thought of. his first idea was to threaten you, scare you into giving information over about her, perhaps if he scared you enough, you would tell rachel to stop meddling with his plans.

but that didn't seem airtight enough. however...there was another idea that struck him - and it seemed to be the safer (and smarter) option. he would make you believe that he was falling for you, get you to trust him - and then once he had your heart in his hands, use you as leverage to get rachel to stay out of his way.

it was simple, really. he wasn't going to seriously harm you, just kidnap you once you let your guard down, then use you as ransom (hm, more like hostage) to persuade rachel to step down from any current and future cases where he had to act as an expert witness.

"are you listening?" rachels voice brought you back to reality, and you nod while she looks through her papers. "yeah - sorry, i'm late to this thing i have with my friends. i gotta go." you say, waving goodbye to her and checking your phone, realizing you needed to leave.

you swiftly drove over to brunch with your girlfriends, and the whole time, you found yourself fixated on the thought of jonathan. there was something about him, something that made your heart swell. perhaps it was his gorgeous eyes, or maybe it was that stunningly chiseled face - whatever it may be, he had a hold on your heart, that was for sure.

after saying your goodbyes to your friends after brunch, you headed off to the grocery store to run some errands. the sun was shining brightly, and the weather was gorgeous, so you decided to spend as much of your day outside as you could. as you were grabbing some apples from one of the produce bins, you turned around and-

ugh, not again!

you felt your body collide into someone else's, and you internally slapped yourself; why twice in one day?!

as you were about to start profusely apologizing, you noticed that you were eye level with a very familiar suit and tie - looking up, you see none other than jonathan crane; and this time, he's actually smiling.

"clumsy one, aren't you?" he teases, and you blush.

"i just can't seem to escape you, i guess," you say back, your pink blush accentuating the apples of your cheeks, "i didn't expect to literally bump into you again so soon."

"i had to run some errands, figured i'd do it after the whole court thing." he says. "actually, i never had the chance to ask you for your number."

when he said that, you started to actually blush profusely, and you managed to stammer out a response. "o-oh, yeah, right."

"yeah so, can i grab it from you?" he asked teasingly, with a small smile.

"o-oh, yes totally." you say, flustered, and he gives you his phone to put your contact information into. after taking it back from you, he asked you a question. "are you busy at all tonight? i know it's a long shot, but..."

"i'm not, actually," you say back, "i don't have any classes for the next few days, it's a reading break."

"well, in that case - how about you join me for dinner tonight?" he asks softly, and you could feel your heart racing.

"yeah, that works. just text me the details then?" you say.

"will do," he says, shamelessly checking you out once more, "try not to bump into anyone else, seriously." he playfully teases, and you laugh softly.

that same evening, you had finished getting ready for your date with jonathan. you opted for a classy, but sexy, look for tonight, and threw on your favourite heels. with your hair freshly done and your makeup on point, you felt pretty - you looked pretty.

spraying on a few spritz of your favourite perfume, you grab your purse and head outside of your place to meet jonathan, as he had texted you that he was here. you felt your stomach do little flips on your way to his car, and even though you were a grown woman, you still felt like a silly school girl with a crush around him.

you spotted his car parked outside your apartment building - a brand new, 3 series bmw with blackout tinting, and gun metal coloured paint. stepping to the passenger door, he reaches over and pushes it open for you, and you get in.

"wow," he says softly, "you look gorgeous, darling."

his tone (and words, duh) made you blush, and you notice he's still in a suit - just a slightly different one, and this time, no sweater vest. "thank you," you say sweetly, "you look really good, too."

"ah, i appreciate it, darling." he tells you, smiling as he speeds off onto the road, driving ever so recklessly - which you thought was hot.

the night went flawlessly, jonathans plan was definitely working out the way he had hoped. the two of you talked endlessly over multiple glasses of wine and dinner, really getting to know each other on a personal level.

he told you all about his time in college, and why he chose to work in the field of psychology, which you found fascinating. you had always liked a mature, well spoken, and intelligent man. you'd told him about your current major, the classes you were taking and your passion for it, which he found endearing. he thought you were absolutely intelligent and found you extremely well spoken for someone your age.

you were just so...sweet. so kind, affectionate, and innocent. again, even if you didn't look that innocent, your personality shone through your exterior - and my goodness did he think you were adorable. your kindness was unmatched.

now, jonathan had originally set this plan into motion to take rachel down (obviously), but he found himself getting slightly distracted with you. sure, he wanted nothing more than to get rachel dawes to stop sniffing around his rather illegal and criminal activities, however, you were far more interesting than he had originally thought. yes, he thought you were jaw-dropping, stunning, gorgeous, angelic (the list just goes on...) when he first met you, but he simply thought you were a pretty face and nothing more.

but boy, was he wrong. you were so much more than that, you were magnificent in his eyes. he was wondering how the hell you didn't already have a boyfriend, as it seemed someone like you would have men lining up just to have a chance with you.

you were thinking the same thing, unbeknownst to him. it was insane, really. he was undeniably handsome, and my goodness was he smart - a man dedicated to his job and passions, so brilliant and ambitious, but yet he didn't have a woman in his life. you thought surely the universe was on your side when it caused the two of you to cross paths.

it had been approximately a month since you and jonathan had gone on your first date - and many more followed. the two of you were enamoured with each other, unable to leave one another alone. he was a busy man, he worked a lot - but he made exceptions when it came to you. he'd never done that before.

he mentally cursed at himself for acting like a lovesick fool, but fuck, he couldn't stop himself if he tried. for a man with such self control; he lost all his inhibitions when it came to you. he was so cold, so calculated and cynical...was he not? well, not around you. his cold, frozen heart was melting, and he hated it - sort of.

he hated that you happened to be the one person he was going to use as a pawn in order to get to rachel - but on the other hand, he couldn't deny how he felt. he always thought love was a waste of time, why be in a relationship when there is no use for such a thing? hm, well - you changed his mind on that, too. he wanted so desperately to be your man, the one for you. the one who got to hold you at night, for you to be the one he came home to after a particularly stressful day at work, the one with his last name - ugh, he was turning soft! and of course it had to be with you of all people.

tonight, jonathan had been working late when suddenly, a guard had knocked on his office door.

"yes?" he asked curtly, "what is it?"

the officer sighed as he opened the office door, "miss dawes from the DA's office is here to see you. she has more questions."

"tell her that i do not have the time for any more silly questions-"

"she brought that girl you always talk about with her."

"...i will be there shortly." he says, sighing as he puts his glasses back on.

okay so, jonathan may have let it slip that he was going out with you to his coworker a few weeks ago. this one coworker had asked him if he could help file a report, but jonathan had a date with you that night, so he had casually said something along the lines of "no, i've got a date with this girl," and the coworker was shocked.

jonathan crane was going on a date? and he was telling people about it? that was huge news, and it soon turned into workplace gossip. jonathan was seething but i mean, he did it to himself, and this was the exact reason why he always kept his personal life separate from work.

jonathan made his way down from his office to go see rachel and you. he wasn't sure why you were here, but he didn't care. it didn't matter as long as he got to see you.

"miss dawes," he says, walking up to her, whilst softly smiling at you. however, once he looked back at her, his stone cold demeanour returned. "this is most irregular - i have nothing further to add to the report i've filed with the judge."

"i have questions about your report." she says nonchalantly, and you watch the interaction between the two of them.

you had driven her here, as her car was currently at the mechanics for maintenance, you had offered. that's what best friends do, after all. you'd insisted that you wait in the car for her, as you didn't want to come off as intruding on him at work, but she said it wasn't safe for you to wait all alone, in the dark, in gotham at an asylum parking lot. you couldn't lie - she had a point.

"uh, i'm just going to wait in the car, i think." you say to them both quietly, but rachel shakes her head. "nonsense, i'll only be a minute. like i said, i have questions, doctor crane."

"such as?" he asks.

"isn't it convenient for a fifty-two year old man who has no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?" she sneers, and he stares at her with a cold, emotionless stare.

"well, as you can see for yourself, there's nothing convenient about his symptoms." he says smoothly, and you notice behind the glass window, who appears to be carmine falcone is on a medical bed, incoherently mumbling to himself.

the two of them continue their little verbal quarrel, and you couldn't help but feel a little out of place, and perhaps, a little awkward as well as you watched the man you were falling in love with and your best friend argue over this.

eventually, rachel had threatened him saying she had paged another doctor at county general to go over falcones toxicology report, as she wanted to know exactly what crane had put him on. jonathan looked like he was holding his tongue, and you could tell he was getting irritated - you could see it in the way he was clenching his jaw silently.

he softly looked over at you, saying your name sweetly. "would you care to join me downstairs, darling?" he says, then turns back to rachel, looking annoyed. "perhaps we should discuss this another time, miss dawes."

"she is not going anywhere, especially with you." rachel sneered, and you huffed.

"okay, enough. i think we should all just take a breather, and just chill for a second. i'll be back, okay rachel? i told jonathan- er, doctor crane, that i was intrigued about his work here. he just wants to show me around; i asked the last time i saw him." you tell her, looking between her and jonathan.

rachel knew that you had been seeing him, and she was supportive (well, as best as she could be) since she adored you, but she despised him. she just couldn't wrap her around how someone as diabolical as him could get along with someone as sweet as you.

"fine, okay." she sighs, and jonathan softly takes your hand in his, leading you to an elevator that looked to be quite old and rigid, but you pushed it aside.

he took a key and turned it, as wherever he was taking you was clearly a restricted access area, and the two of you stood side by side, hand in hand as the elevator went downstairs.

yes - this was all part of jonathans plan to cut rachel out of the picture, to get her away from his criminal plans and secret toxins that he had been putting into gothams water supply. he was going to gas you next, as he knew rachel would come looking for you, then hold you for ransom (again, more like hostage), until rachel agreed to stop getting involved and dropped her involvement in any cases he worked all together.

as the elevator dinged, he stepped out first, leading the way with his hand resting gently on your back; the feeling was electrifying. his hands on you - it was driving you crazy. jonathan wasn't a very trusting person, so the two of you had gone on countless dates - but he didn't ask you out yet, ask you to be his, and you guys hadn't actually had sex yet, which you found a little endearing, if you were being honest. it seemed like he respected you and wanted more than just a quick hookup.

"this way, please." he says, his voice saccharine as he talks to you. as you follow his lead, he then takes your hand in his once more, and pushes a large, heavy, metal door open. you followed him, hand in hand, and continued to go along with whatever it was he was doing. you didn't think twice about it; you never felt a sense of danger near him.

glancing down from the top of a cascading staircase, you see what appeared to be inmates or patients of arkham asylum, in their jumpsuits, working with various chemicals and pouring them into some sort of water supply - a sewerage of some sort, maybe? you blink a few times, but eventually you look over at him with an innocent and adorably confused expression.

jonathan pauses for a moment, looking down at you and your small frame in comparison to his, and takes note of how cute you truly were. god, you were so pretty. sighing, he continued, trying his hardest not to let you affect him in any way. "this is where we make the medicine," he says, "perhaps you should..."

he trailed off before he could say "have some," unable to finish his sentence, and you look at him with that adorable pout that you had many times before.

he couldn't go through with it. this was the final part of his plan! he was supposed to hold you hostage! how else was he going to get rid of rachel dawes and stop her from meddling? you were like, his last resort, or something along those lines.

sighing, he shook his head. "no, i can't do this to you." he says, his voice soft, matching his expression.

"what are you talking about?" you ask innocently, as if you were oblivious to the scene around you. one thing about you was that you tended to see the good in people; even if others found them distasteful, you managed to see their best qualities.

therefore, when jonathan took you into some kind of illegal, criminal chemical distribution and production centre for his fear toxin, you innately looked past it - a typical you thing to do. they do say that ignorance is bliss, right?

jonathan eyed you curiously - were you serious? "do you know where you are right now?" he asked, tone still soft as he spoke to you.

"yeah, arkham asylum." you respond cutely, and he almost laughed. you were so adorable - so sweet.

"no- like, where we are right now, as in where we're standing." he clarifies, hoping you would understand.

"a lab?" you ask hopefully, and he nods, looking at you with a small smile.

"something like that, yes," he laughs softly, "you don't see the problem here?"

you tilt your head to the side to really emphasize your confusion, and jonathan feels this strange sensation in his chest - almost like there were butterflies flying around freely in there. "well, should i see a problem with this?" you ask innocently.

"yes," he says, "yes, you should. does this not bother you at all?"

"not really, no."

"but why?"

"cause i like you." you say, and he goes quiet.

you like him? you like him? you like him. for some reason, this makes his heart beat about a million miles a minute, and he gets flustered - nearly choked up. jonathan crane of all people wasn't one to ever be at a loss for words, but love changes us in ways we wouldn't dream of.

for a moment, you thought you'd really fucked up this time. he was quiet for so long, you thought perhaps you should take it back - save yourself before it was too late; confessing your feelings when they weren't mutual was one of the most embarrassing things that you felt could happen to you. but, before you could take back your little confession, his hands were on your waist, pulling you close to him.

his expression was something you'd never seen before, almost like he was searching your eyes for any trace of a lie, really trying to see if you were being honest with him. vulnerability didn't come easy to jonathan, and his walls were up so high - they were almost unbreakable.

almost.

as he pulled you close, his hands rested on your waist gently, pulling you flush against his body as he looked down at you. "you have feelings for me?" he asked quietly, and you nod.

"of course i do, i thought it was obvious..." you say just as quietly, your eyes trailing over his pink, plush lips.

suddenly, he was pulling you into a gentle kiss, which you immediately melted into, letting yourself fall into him. neither of you fought the fall this time, especially not jonathan.

"i need you," he whispered against your lips, "i think i-" he stopped himself, his heart skipping and his brain short circuiting from the thought of finishing his sentence.

"hm?" you ask cutely, pulling away from the kiss.

"i think i love you." he says quickly, and you smile sweetly at him. "i know i love you." you reassure him, and he smiles back at you. "darling, you truly are something else."

before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking away as if you were teenagers again. he took you through the staff only parts of the asylum, and eventually led you to the underground parking garage. the two of you were laughing amongst yourselves, acting like two high school students in love.

you had asked a security officer to hand the keys to your car to rachel, so that she could drive home, and shot her a text that simply read: "i owe u, pls dont hate me ok ily bye."

she sent back the following: "ughhh fine"

like jonathan, she also had a soft spot for you, even when you did things like this - you were like a baby sister to her, she adored you even if you were trying to sleep with the "enemy." well, her enemy anyways.

it was quite cold on this particular night, even though it was the middle of summer. as the two of you walked through the parkade, jonathan noticed that you were shivering slightly, and he quickly took off his suit jacket. wrapping it around your shoulders, he pulled you close, placing a few chaste kisses on your neck and behind your ear, as the two of you rushed to get into his car.

jonathan and you swiftly got in his car, his hand on your thigh as the two of you sped off to his place. the minute you two got out and stepped into his apartment building, the both of you were pressed up against each other. the two of you sharing sloppy kisses as you tried your best to hurry up and get into his apartment from the elevator, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on each other.

as he closed his apartment door and locked it behind him, you pounced on him, locking your lips with his in an instant. he needed you - and you needed him. both desperate and needy, you make out feverishly, hungry for more. it was meant to be - it must be. the way the moonlight shone through the big, glass window of his bedroom, illuminating you both as you made the moment yours.

you rush to help him out of his clothes; sloppy, hot kisses being shared between the both of you. he pushes you back onto his soft mattress, and he tugs your clothes off of you, pawing at your breasts through your lacy bra. once you were in just your lacy bra and matching lacy panties, he groaned at the sight.

"fuck, look at you, darling." he groans, and you feel your cheeks heat up from his words. "i've wanted you for so long."

his hands travel up your body, reaching for your bra clasp before undoing it, your perky breasts out for him to see. wasting absolutely no time, he slides your lacy panties down, too. you could see the tent in his boxers, and you smirked to yourself.

"please fuck me, jon. i wanna feel myself getting stretched out by your cock." you say to him, looking up at his face as he crawls onto you.

jonathan was almost at a loss for words - for someone so sweet and so innocent, your words were so filthy.

"yeah, is that what you want, darling?" he asked, pulling his boxers down to reveal is hard cock, dripping with pre cum. "d'you want me to fuck you stupid, hm? until you can't walk?"

his words made you moan, you were unbelievably turned on right now. you felt the tip of his cock line up with your drooling entrance, and you snake your hand down to your clit, teasingly playing with it while he watched. you moan, and he takes a hold of your hand. "you're fucking naughty, aren't you?" he asked, pinning both your wrists above your head as he forcefully thrusted his cock into your tight, warm cunt.

"jesus, you're fucking soaked." he groans, setting a fast and brutal pace as he fucked you. you arch your back at the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix already - so deep you couldn't decipher whether it actually hurt or not.

"f-fuck, so good, ugh-" you moan, the sound of your voice mixed with his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt filling up the room.

"y-yeah?" he asks, moaning your name, "darling, fuck. this cunt is all mine, understood?"

you nod frantically, feeling his thick, fat cock sliding in and out of your spongy walls, stretching your tight little cunt out. "mm, uh-huh. o-oh, jon..!"

he continued to fuck you mercilessly, pounding your pretty pussy with such force, you knew he wasn't kidding when he said you wouldn't be walking tomorrow. you were a mess under him, screaming his name at this point, and he loved it. oh, how he loved seeing you fall apart underneath him.

"j-jon, baby," you moan, "i-i'm gonna cum."

"drench my cock, darling," he says, still fucking your soaking cunt with his thick cock, "show me, fuck- show me who you fucking belong to."

his words sent you over the edge, your mind going blank as you screamed his name out over and over, your legs shaking as he fucked you into oblivion, your release crashing over you like a wave. your soft walls enveloping his fat cock even more, tightening up around him.

"god, you're unbelievably tight-" he moans, "m'gonna fill this pretty pussy up, darling."

you started to babble incoherently, lost in the moment. "mm, f-uck- i love you." you gasped, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

your saccharine, desperate voice sent jonathan into overdrive, and he was certainly starting to lose his composure. "i love you more." he groaned while painting your walls white with his cum.

he stayed on top of you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath and processing what just happened. eventually, he rolled off of you, and immediately pulled you into his embrace. you snuggled into his arms, your head laying on his chest; listening to his heartbeat as bliss consumed you.

jonathan subconsciously knew he couldn't go through with his plan as soon as he fabricated it, as you'd captured his heart instantaneously. you were so sweet, so oblivious to the fact that he was so imperfect, so dangerous. maybe you knew, he thought, or maybe you just chose to see the good in him, he wasn't entirely sure. he wasn't a saint, and he definitely wasn't a good man by any means, but for you; he would try to be better. he promised that to himself.

you'd dozed off while he was lost in his thoughts, and he looked over at you, snuggled up in his arms as you slept peacefully, and he held you a little closer - a little tighter. he never wanted to let you go.

your name had been tattooed onto his heart from the moment he had met you - permanent and forever there.

my taglist has been giving me issues so i apologize if it doesn't notify you when i've tagged you, as for some reason tumblr won't allow me to tag more than 5 blogs unless theres a space between them lol

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[d1lfyhorrors]

‘Friendly’ Greeting — Cooper Adams x fem!reader

a/n: i wrote this for funsies! hope you enjoy :D i’m in no way an actual fic writer, i haven’t fully written any fic’s in YEARS.. i’ve started on a few and then gave up lol. so plz go easy on me but i would really appreciate feedback!! i also fear this might be a little self indulgent because girl folded so quick and barely put up a fight. also cooper is still a firefighter in this it just isn’t mentioned.

brief summary: Cooper and his daughter, Riley, are your neighbors that you’ve found yourself cozy with over time. There’s a lot more to him that you’re curious about and soon enough, you get the chance to see a side of him you’d think you’d never expect.

word count: 3,5k

WARNINGS: switch pov, FILTHY SMUT 18+, barely any plot this is just straight up smut, HEAVY DUBCON, afab/fem reader, use of word pussy for reader, dom!cooper, reader calls him ‘sir’ like twice, i feel like cooper adams is just a warning himself he’s a dark man LMAO, rachel is out of the picture cause FUCK RACHEL, unspecified age gap (nothing crazy), he breaks in your house sort of?, descriptions of violence and murder, brief alcohol mention, manipulation, unprotected piv (I DONT ENCOURAGE THIS THO), oral f and m, fingering, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, degradation AND praise, BREEDING KINK (sorry…), use of pet names, creampie. (let me know if i missed anything please!)

——

Cooper isn’t entirely sure what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way you’re always so cheerful and excited to see him along with his daughter Riley. The way you’re so kind and caring towards Riley. He knew how much she liked you and how much she looked up to you. Maybe it’s the way you affect him so deeply with just your presence alone. The way that he’s come to realize deep down inside, he longs for you.

As the time’s passed, his little obsession with you has grown. Dangerously. You consume his thoughts daily. You are now a temptation for him that’s becoming too strong to resist— he just knows that it’s inevitable before he gives in. He hungers for you, all of you. It’s a different kind of hunger compared to his usual— the hunger to kill. In his eyes, you’re an enticing woman he wants all to himself.

You’ve known Cooper since a few weeks after you first moved in next door. His daughter had taken a liking to you quickly that day you introduced yourself to them— from then on, you actually spent quite a good amount of time with them. Hanging out with her in her room, having dinner with her and Cooper, giving her rides whenever he couldn’t. You were like a big sister to her.

He told you about how her mother left them when she was younger. It broke your heart and made you feel for her greatly— moreover it made you feel obligated to be there for her in any way you can.

You find him to be quite a charming man. Certainly handsome, as well as the biggest gentleman. You’ve noticed with time, though, there’s still something a bit off about him— you struggle to put a finger on it. It’s what also causes you to want to get to know him even better. It’s almost like you were drawn to him in a way, but the unknown darkness also makes you hesitant and reluctant.

Cooper’s need to be in control at all times is starting to drive him insane… because of you. That dark, sinister part of him is coming to the forefront. He can’t wait anymore. Now is the time for him to act on it.

He knew it’d be a piece of cake for him to sneak in through your backdoor late at night, considering that’s one of his ‘alter egos’ specialty. He successfully makes it inside your kitchen silently, without alarming you. It only serves to excite him even more.

Today’s been a stressful day at work for you. To be fair, having a corporate office job is always stressful, but your mind was scattered like crazy. Everything has been weighing heavily on you recently and all you wanted to do is get home, take a nice hot shower then go to sleep. But once you got home from work and finished with your shower, you decided to relax on the couch with a bottle of wine.

You’re watching an old black & white horror movie on the TV, sprawled out on your couch, glass of wine in hand. Unbeknownst to you, Cooper stands right behind you in the doorway. He admires you for a bit before speaking up, startling the living hell out of you. “I’ve always liked this movie.”

You whip your head around and jump at the sound of his voice. It almost makes you drop your wine, but thankfully you’re able to save it, quickly setting it down on the coffee table. He smirks as you scramble off of the couch, wrapping your arms around yourself and standing.

It takes a second to realize it’s Cooper— it causes the slightest bit of relief. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, preparing yourself to respond to his intrusion. “Cooper… how—… what are you doing here?”

His eyes darken as he takes a step closer to you, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. "Is that any way to greet your friendly neighbor?" he asks, his deep voice laced with a dangerous edge.

Cooper crosses his arms over his broad chest, the sleeves of his flannel shirt straining against his biceps. "I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He makes it sound as if this behavior is normal and familiar, even if it’s far from it. This is the first time he’s ever shown up unannounced.

He can surely hear how loud your heart pounds in your chest, towering over you so close that he can smell the faint scent of your fruity shampoo.

You get a whiff of his cologne and it ignites a warmth that pools in your lower belly. You swallow nervously, cheeks flaring up as you whisper softly. “Well, you could’ve given me a heads up before sneaking up on me.” The attempt to appear more composed fails but you can’t find it in yourself to form a better response.

His gaze rakes over your body, filled with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. Cooper licks his lips, voice rumbling. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot… I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.”

There’s a sinister glint that flashes in his eyes that you catch. You’ve seen it before, in the depths of his orbs. It terrified and captivated you in equal measure.

Your lips part but he continues, taking a step closer to you. “About how sweet you’d taste. How soft your skin would feel under my fingertips. How good you’d look under me.”, his voice lowers dangerously with those last words.

”Cooper, stop...”, you stammer before he has the chance to say more. He backs you up against the wall now, placing a hand behind your head, caging you in.

His other hand comes up to grip your chin, tilting your face up towards his. The strength of his grip holds you in place and it makes a whimper bubble up in your throat.

"I want you, sweetheart. And I always get what I want.", he coos, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his eyes blazing with possessiveness.

"So tell me, baby. Are you going to give yourself to me? Or do I have to take what's mine? ‘Cause we both know you want it too. Don’t try to hide it now.”

Cooper has you trembling against the hard surface of the wall, a mixture of fear and lust that’s intoxicating. There’s truth in his words— you know you should be trying to shove him off, running for the hills. You can’t bring yourself to do that when he’s right. There’s a part of you, darker and more curious, that craves this.

The side of you that’s conflicted and wary has words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “You’re scaring me…”

You instantly regret it when irritation flashes across his features, other hand sliding down to dig his fingers into your hip painfully.

“Scaring you?”, he repeats in a growl. Your eyes widen when his face hovers just inches from yours. “You have no idea what real fear is, I can promise you that.”

His lips brush against yours in a cruel mockery of a kiss, “I could snap your pretty little neck right now, carve your body up into little pieces and scatter them across the city. No one would ever know it was me.”

The words he uttered has your whole body tensing up. You’re completely helpless, powerless against him. His hand on your chin trails down to brush his fingers over the swell of your breast.

“But I won’t do that, because I wanna keep you. You’re… special. Different, and I want you to be mine in every way possible.”, his voice is softer now, filled with deep emotion.

The shift in his demeanor makes your body melt against him now, and you’re feeling shamefully turned on by him.

Tension aches between your thighs and the last sliver of restraint is gone. You’re so fucked. Any doubts in the world drift away with every passing second.

“Yes, sir. I understand, I’ll do whatever you want.”, you relented sheepishly. Cooper sensed the way you relaxed and gave in— it gave him a sick thrill that made his cock increasingly hard.

He hums in satisfaction then brings a hand up to tangle in your hair, yanking to expose your neck, making you gasp.

“Good girl.”, he purrs in your ear, his breath ghosting over your pulse point. You can feel his erection nudging your thigh and it makes you fucking quiver, a moan forcing it’s way past your lips when he grinds against you.

He dips down to drag his teeth over the hollow of your throat, “You’re learning your place already. Now, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours for me to fuck.”

Cooper doesn’t give you a chance to even process it, he just tugs your head again and you're instantly dropping in front of him.

Your doe eyes peer up at him as your shaking hands reach out to graze over the bulge through the fabric of his jeans. The breath in your lungs stills the moment you unzip and tug them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free and he gets a sense of pride at the sight of your reaction. Of course he’s massive.

He twitches in anticipation admiring how your lips part. “Take it in your hand first, baby. Stroke it like I know you’ve thought about.”, he commands with an assertiveness that has your panties soaked.

You let your delicate fingers wrap around the base of his cock and he lets out a pleased sigh. “Higher.”, he demands abruptly, his voice gruff. He needs to know just how well he’s broken you, just how much control he wholeheartedly has over you.

Eagerly complying your digits inch up his shaft, squeezing the base of the crown, your thumb gliding over the head. Cooper shudders, the sensation of your softness on him sending a jolt of pleasure through his core. “Now lick it. Taste me, sweetgirl.”, his voice drips with lust.

Your heart races, jaw falling open and he takes the opportunity to thrust himself towards your waiting lips. He groans at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue dragging over his slit, mouth soon after enveloping him. His hand tightens in your hair, shoving his cock in and out, taking your breath away.

“That’s it,” he praises through a pant. “Look at you, so fucking gorgeous like this for me. You were made to be on your knees for me, huh?” A muffled moan of agreement from you vibrates through him, drool gathering at the corners of your lips as he fucks your face with abandon.

“Relax that throat for me, let me in, baby,” he breathes, pulling you forward to force himself deeper.

Cooper lets out a guttural groan, savoring the feeling of your throat, your eyes watering as you choke and gag around him. “Fuck yes, take it like the good little cock slut you are just for me. All mine.”, he grits through his teeth, holding you there for a moment.

Then he pulls back, letting you catch your breath until he’s slamming back in, making your eyes roll back. Cooper sets a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

Tears stream down your cheeks but you can’t deny how much you’re getting off on this. You’ve submitted yourself to him fully and you’re loving every bit of this now. His pleasure spurs you on, tongue swirling over his underside and taking every inch he gives you.

He recognizes the coil tightening in his gut but he refuses to cum so soon. Even though he’d gladly let you swallow it, right now he craves nothing more than to breed your pussy full of him.

The thought forces him to retreat from your mouth, otherwise he would have shot his load right then.

Cooper brings you back up to your feet, fixing himself and motioning for you to lead him to your bedroom. Once you’ve both made it inside he’s already shoving you down on the mattress, creaking under the weight as he straddles you.

You’ve barely spoken at all but you’re still rendered speechless, your brain already turned to mush and he’s not even really started yet. The realization of how much he affects you serves as fuel to the fire. Your body and soul have fallen into the depths of submission.

A wide smirk spreads on his face, hands gripping your wrists to pin them above your head. His voice practically drips with honey, “You’re gonna be such a delightful plaything. Aren’t you, sweetheart? C’mon, need to hear you say it.”

You whimper pathetically, nodding your head frantically and pleading, “I wanna be your plaything, Cooper. I… I wanna be yours— I am yours. P-Please, give me more.”

His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, tongue darting out to slide along yours and you writhe beneath him. You’re desperate for him at this point, feeding off of how he dominates you. He moves to the skin of your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks to stake his claim.

Cooper chuckles at your reaction, “Mmm, such a responsive thing and I’ve barely begun. Need it bad, huh?,” he teasingly mocks. Your cheeks burn and all you can do is moan again, reveling in the sensation of his mouth on your neck.

He lets go of your wrists and removes himself, his hands wandering down to the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips for him, allowing him to take them off with your panties. His eyes immediately fall on your exposed wetness, taking in the sight with a sharp breath.

In this moment he swears it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He licks his lips, “Naughty girl, look at how wet that pussy is for me… I promise I’ll make it feel so good.” With that, he descends between your thighs, grabbing them to spread them wide and throw them over his shoulders.

Cooper presses his tongue flat against your wetness, your body jolting and legs tightening around his head. Your back arches, the muscle flicking and swirling over your clit, driving you wild. It has you gasping for air, tingles of pleasure bursting through your insides.

You crave more and he knows it, but he needs to hear you. Needs to hear your begging. You give it to him in a whine, “Please, sir, I need more. I want it all please please—“ He cuts you off, granting your wish with a finger teasing your entrance.

He suckles your clit with his lips, gathering slick on the tip of his digit, probing your tight hole. You let him in, your hips bucking into his touch and attempting to get impossibly closer. More.

Cooper is lost in the task of pleasing you, worshiping you in ways he imagined. Never did he expect you to be so easy, but he’s getting off on all of this almost as much as killing. This is a close second.

That’ll probably change once he feels you around him. His cock throbs for it but he’s determined to make you cum on his tongue and fingers first. He’s watching you intently, fucking you with one finger before adding another.

The sound of your moans grow with volume and your walls clench around them, one of your hands darting to his hair. Your legs shake and you try to tell him you’re close but it just comes out as gibberish.

“I know, baby, c’mon. You already taste so good, come for me ‘n let me taste every bit of you.”, he mumbles against your flesh. That’s all it takes for you to shatter, convulsing and crying out at the euphoria that washes over you.

His movements never falter, sucking and draining every ounce of pleasure from you. As soon as he senses you coming down, he can’t wait anymore. Cooper gets off the bed long enough to rid himself of his clothes, back on top of you in no time.

He takes a moment to remove your shirt, finally revealing the other objects of his desires. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him against you and he takes the chance to knead one breast with a hand, his mouth attaching to the other.

You gasp at the delicious sensation, arching towards him. Cooper doesn’t waste anymore time, gripping his cock and rubbing the head against your slick folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard and deep you’ll feel me for days.”, he promises in a sultry murmur. You shiver.

Without further warning, he sinks inside your pussy in one smooth motion that makes you squeal. The stretch is overwhelming and it’s knocked the breath out of you. You’re so tight, he almost fucking whimpers at the way you choke his cock.

Both of his hands move to grip your hips, giving you a chance to adjust to his size before he eases out and slams back in full force. The motion has you clawing at the sheets, pleasure and pain a heady cocktail as your moans and cries echo through the room like music to his ears.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby. Tell me who owns this pretty body.”, he pants with eagerness. He really is fucking you so deep, pounding you with a relentless rhythm. The friction between your slick bodies create an erotic sound, spurring both of you on.

You struggle to gather the energy for a response but he quickly fixes that by wrapping one of his hands around your throat, applying pressure.

“You, Cooper, I… belong to you. You own me, Cooper, y–you feel so good inside me. I love your cock.”, you blubbered. Your rational mind can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth but you don’t care anymore.

The words ring in his ears and they make him crack— he’s whimpering, his hips pumping away and your body shaking beneath him. Cooper feels like he’s tasted a glimpse of heaven and he never wants it to go away.

Fuck no, you’re never going anywhere. You said it yourself and Cooper Adams doesn’t take lightly to broken promises. He highly doubts that you’ll ever let yourself find out now with the way you’re clinging to him.

Before you know it he’s flipping you over, positioning you on all fours and entering from behind with a harsh thrust. A yelp flies past your lips as his hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, finding yourself meeting his movements with your hips.

Cooper’s grunts mix with your screams and you’re both teetering on the edge, he’s so close to claiming you in the way he yearns for most. He leans over to wrap his hand around your throat again, using the grip to raise you up so that your back is almost touching his chest.

“I’m gonna stuff this tight pussy full of my cum and you’re gonna take every drop, do you understand?” His cock slides impossibly deeper and you shake violently, tears of overstimulating pleasure and pain streaming down your cheeks.

You stammer a ‘Yes’, then he’s letting his other hand slither down your front to toy with your clit, edging you on closer. Cooper’s grip on your throat tighten and his pace remains unforgiving, chasing the peak dangling just out of reach.

“Oh yes please, Cooper, gonna come so hard. Want you to fill me up, I wanna feel it.”, you beg in a plea. He feels the spasming of your walls around his cock, your release crashing through you while simultaneously rattling through him.

He coos in your ear, “There we go, you feel so good cumming on my cock, baby. You scream so pretty for me… fuck, gonna give it to you now.”, he croaks before he pulses inside of you, his cum spurting out of his tip and filling your pussy. The warmth spreading makes you hum, thoroughly enjoying it.

You completely zone out for a beat there, not realizing he’s still gently moving in and out. Your lungs gasp for air, body quivering from the aftershocks. You don’t even try to speak right now. Only the sounds of his breathing paired with yours and the soft squelch of his cock in your pussy.

Cooper wishes he could just live right here, buried in your depths, taking and taking and taking from you over and over. Pumping load after load into you.

You are different from the others. All of this feels different with you, he’s never had a woman bend to his will so easily. You might just be his one true savior.

That’s until after you’ve cleaned up together and you suddenly question out of nowhere…

“Are you The Butcher?”

tagging: @amethystblackkchaos @rottenangel @hereforthehitsbaby @dirtylittlefairytales @gissellec1 @rplver @ratcatcher2world @one-of-thewalkingdead @habitabel @rosaleelovesdilfs @hibiskooks

[stall1iion]

champions love - six

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, bsf1, bsf2, and many others 

y/n.jpg nice to be back home for the weekend

tagged: bsf1, bsf2

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logansargeant happy fourth y/n 💀🤣

⤷y/n.jpg Logan! Pull up man

⤷logansargeant am I being invited to the cookout?

⤷y/n.jpg I- 💀🤣sure Logan, just text me 

bsf1 we look so hot omg 😍🥵

⤷y/n.jpg we do 🤭

⤷bsf2 was that even a question? 🤭🤭

lilymhe 😔i miss you wifey  

⤷y/n.jpg i miss you too! Don’t worry I’ll be back next week 🫶🏾

⤷alexalbon um? Wifey? 😐

⤷y/n.jpg call me Mr. Steal your bitch 😋

maxverstappen1 will you bring me back some food? 

⤷y/n.jpg so needy 🙄😂 yeah I’ll bring you a plate but you do know you could just come? 

⤷maxverstappen1 oh- you so right 

username5 happy Fourth of July Y/n! 

username9 omg will we potentially get pictures of Logan finally being around people who care about him? 

⤷username12 💀moot what you being messy for? 

username7 stop this friend group is so hot and for what? 

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, f1wags, and many others

y/n.jpg no one told me I would be dealing with two unhinged blondes 😭😞free me 

tagged: bsf1, bsf2, logansargeant 

view all comments 

bsf2 we are not unhinged 

⤷logansargeant agreed 😁

⤷bsf1 yes you two are 

⤷y/n.jpg you both decided it would be a good idea to climb into a baby swing and got stuck 💀😐

⤷logansargeant that did not happen?? 

⤷y/n.jpg tell that to the fire station that cut you out 💀

username4 omg 🤣he actually pulled up 

maxverstappen1 help is on the way dear!! 

⤷y/n.jpg did you just 😍quote a meme to me 🤭

⤷logansargeant oh good god 💀plz keep this pg 13 there’s kids on here 

⤷y/n.jpg girl…fuck them kids 🤭and fuck you too 🖕🏾

username7 and where’s max? Like how is some guy who can't even drive around my girl alone?

⤷username88 ooo yeah it's giving insecure, good luck to any person you date

username76 are we just going to ignore that Logan and Ashley got stuck in a baby swing 💀

⤷username103 and the fire department had to cut them out 💀

⤷logansargeant yes

⤷bsf2 yes we are

username9 see if I was max i wouldn’t let some guy be all cozy with my girl like that 

⤷username5 friend what are you talking about? What cozying you see bc i see logan getting cozy with Ashley if that’s what you mean 

username2 so um, anyone else getting chemistry from Logan and her best friend??

⤷username10 oh my god yes, thank you, I thought I was the only one 😭

⤷username23 stop 😵i hope not, they lowkey look like siblings 

⤷username55 STOP WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT LMAO??

53,351 likes 

y/n.jpg Proud to have introduced the boys to the y/n version of 7/4 🫡happy 7/4 to america 💋

view all comments 

username7 NOT AMERICAN BUT HAPPY 4TH OF JULY! 

username9 not the max picture cuz ppl was talking shit on the last photo 💀

⤷username2 logan looks like he’s either third wheeling or being babysat 💀😂

username10 HAPPY 7/4

username4 HAPPY 7/4

username33 HAPPY 7/4

username69 HAPPY 7/4

username74 HAPPY 7/4

username99 RAWWWW 🦅HAPPY INDEPENDENCE TO THE BEST COUNTRY 

⤷username98 they gon get you girl but real💀

bsf1 AHHH WE LOOK SO GOOD IN THE LAST PHOTO, W AURAAAAAA

bsf2 WHERE ARE YOU?? WE’RE TRYING TO TAKE A TRIO PIC WITH THE FIREWORKS?? 

⤷bsf1 OH MY GOD TURN AROUND!!! 

⤷username77 WHAT’S GOING ON?? WHAT ARE WE MISSING?? 

⤷username61 SHOW IT TO US PLEASE!! SHOW IT TO US RACHEL! 

caption: look at these lovebirds over here 💀

⤷bsf1 she’s gonna kill you once she sees this 

⤷bsf2 she was the one who kissed him 💀and she can’t even lie and say she was possibly drunk this time 

⤷bsf2 miss “I don’t date drivers” 

comments 

F1lover stop ✋ maybe she’s just busy and will fly in the day of the race

loveuy/n she looks good tho 😭what was she even doing??

lo3vmax maybe she has practice? 

⤷mrssainz yeah but max hasn’t said anything about her not coming yet 

y/nhater I don’t know maybe she finally realized their little pr relationship isn’t working anymore 

winter<3 she looks really hungover, maybe she was waiting before flying so she wouldn’t have to deal with that

→ DUH DUH DUH!!! We have names for our best friends now! 💀(I did not mean for that to happen lol) 

→ If you want, we can vote on the other best friend’s name! Send in a request for names and we can poll!! 

Anyways back to normal programing 

→ Yes the cookout is a reference to a black cookout but you can take that as a normal bbq 

→ Logan x Ashley? 👀we’ll see 

→ Logan is officially a part of the gang yay!!  

→ Yes, Y/N did in fact block Max after the kiss (she left immediately and screamed in her pillow for at least 30 minutes) 

→ Is Y/n going to Silverstone?? I guess we’ll never know…..jk you’ll know in the next chapter mwah 💋

Author’s note! 

I finished this up faster than I thought I would 💀I originally planned to wait till July 4th to actually post this but then I was like…nahhhh next chapter will have the race, max and y/n talking (more denial yay! 😁) I now get why writers love the good old miscommunication, it’s so much fun to write 😈 

taglist: @boiohboii @ale-522 @ietss @theseerbetweenus @jaxx-7 @sainzluvrr @the-untamed-soul @ashy-kit @hc-dutch @nichmeddar @delululeclerc @sweate-r-weathe-r @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @luvsforme @samantha-chicago @theblueblub

༉‧₊˚  CHAMPIONS LOVE ༉‧₊˚

⤷ Following the messy breakup between Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet, Max’s manager comes up with a solution to divert the attention – a fake relationship. His new girlfriend? Two time olympic gold medalist figure skater, y/n for the USA team. Easy? Well…

[diorsluv]

casual , part 8

“ so now when we kiss ”

series m. list previous chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, luca.fantilli, and 123,748 others

yourusername who’s gonna be the chandler to my monica (i need someone to marry me when i’m still single at 40) 🤗

view all comments

vivianliu don’t worry bae i’ll hook you up with the hottest 40 year old man when we get there

→ yourusername you’re too sweet 😞😞

→ lhughes_06 no you won’t

→ vivianliu yes i will 😒 lhughes_06

rutgermcgroarty i can’t be chandler but i can be the ullmark to your swayman

→ yourusername STOP YOU KNOW ME SO WELL

→ jswayman1 there’s only room for one pair 🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty …have you just been lurking??? jswayman1

→ yourusername oh my god sway it’s you i love you so much you’re like one of my favorite goalies ‼️

→ yourusername DID YOU JSUT FOLLOW ME IH MY FUCKUGB GODDDDD jswayman1

→ jswayman1 yes i did 🫡

→ jackhughes WHAT this isn’t fair???

username25 THE jeremy swayman just followed you babe how do you feel 🎤

→ yourusername AMAZING

username37 FRIENDS AHHH

trevorzegras i can be the chandler to your monica

→ yourusername yeah.. i’m good 😬

→ trevorzegras HEY THATS MEAN

→ yourusername i’m just kidding z (not really)

→ yourusername i’m sure there’s a ton of girls out there that want you!! it’s just not me 🫶🫶

→ _alexturcotte the public rejection is insane

→ trevorzegras 💔

→ yourusername i still love u tho!

→ trevorzegras ❤️‍🩹

edwards.73 me

→ yourusername we’ll see

→ edwards.73 whats that supposed to mean 🤨

→ yourusername one night in my bed isnt gonna make me forget about everything

→ edwards.73 IM SORRY FOR IGNORING U

→ yourusername prove it

luca.fantilli i’ll be the rachel to your ross!

→ yourusername you wanna be the woman in an on-and-off relationship??? 😭😭

→ luca.fantilli yeah i wanna see what it’s like to be you for once 🤗

→ yourusername hold up

→ lhughes_06 LMAO

→ dylanduke25 THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR

→ luca.fantilli oops

→ yourusername 😟😟

username34 the way he looks at her 🥲

username88 I LOVE THEM

markestapa hypothetically what would you do if someone asked you out and asked you to be the monica to their chandler

→ yourusername i would marry them on the spot

→ markestapa moving a little fast there aren’t we?

→ dylanduke25 AHEM edwards.73 AHEM

lhughes_06 ustjay osay ouyay owknay ehay eallyray oesday ikelay ouyay (just so you know he really likes you)

→ yourusername we haven’t used pig latin since like middle school 😭😭

→ _quinnhughes your nerd phases

→ lhughes_06 utshay upyay (shut up)

→ jackhughes IGPAY ATINLAY (PIG LATIN)

→ luca.fantilli oh my god i remember speaking pig latin

→ adamfantilli igpay atinlay asway oatedgay (pig latin was goated)

→ vivianliu is this just a sibling thing 😭

→ dylanduke25 no tyler never learned it for me 😐😐

→ tyler___duke5 no i just never used it with you dylanduke25

→ trevorzegras ancay onfirmcay ityay asway ayay iblingsay ingthay (can confirm it was a sibling thing)

→ griffinzegras please don’t bring it back i was struggling enough back then

→ edwards.73 iyay opehay ouyay owknay iyay understandyay igpay atinlay ootay (i hope you know i understand pig latin too)

username84 who’s gonna translate all that pig latin 🥰🥰

username97 oh my god this is gonna send me back into my friends phase

→ username6 RIGHT

_alexturcotte remember the friends marathons we would have every summer

→ yourusername barely 🙄

→ _alexturcotte WHY ARE U ROLLING UR EYES

→ yourusername YOU WOULD ALWAYS “FORGET” TO TELL ME YOU WERE WATCHING IT

→ trevorzegras he was watching it with me that’s why 😉

→ yourusername ieday trevorzegras (die)

→ trevorzegras you’re no fun rosie

adamfantilli i love gale weathers

→ yourusername completely different franchise but yes she’s toooooo iconic 😈😈

→ vivianliu sidney’s hotter

→ adamfantilli that’s a hot fucking take vivianliu

→ luca.fantilli sidney prescott or sidney crosby??

→ vivianliu both

→ markestapa you’re all forgetting about billy

→ yourusername BILLY

→ lhughes_06 billy 😒

username18 i just finished friends!!

username75 I WILL

mackie.samo I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

→ yourusername i love maddy more

→ mackie.samo YOU MET HER ONCE

→ yourusername i stand by my statement

username71 istg this is directed at ethan

username8 STOP I MISS THEM

username31 i need someone to look at me like that

colecaufield ‘90s shows were my childhood 🙏🙏

→ yourusername ur literally an ‘01 baby???

→ colecaufield BARELY

username66 THEM >>>>

yourusername

liked by edwards.73, trevorzegras, and 111,629 others

yourusername i was fuckin superstars when i was nineteen 🥴

view all comments

jackhughes woah there

→ yourusername it’s just a song ! 😰

→ jackhughes i’m sure that’s all it is 🤨🤨

_quinnhughes YOU’RE STILL A CHILD

→ yourusername IM ALMOST 20??

→ _quinnhughes UR STILL 19

→ yourusername then my caption’s pretty fitting

→ _quinnhughes 😐

username27 IS IT BECAUSE OF WHAT I THINK IT IS

→ yourusername do tell

→ username27 ur 19, u and ethan, ethan’s like an underground superstar

→ yourusername 🙊

edwards.73 the shit we did you won’t believe me

→ dylanduke25 NOW IM AT THE TURN UP

→ mackie.samo LOOKING LONELYYY

→ trevorzegras AND THEY WONDER WHY IM QUIET AT THEM HOUSE PARTIESSSS

→ jackhughes CUZ EVERYBODY SEE ME

→ colecaufield ROLL SOME BLUNTS

→ adamfantilli AND HIT HER ONCE

→ rutgermcgroarty AND NOW SHE NEED ME

→ yourusername brent faiyaz 🙇‍♀️

→ edwards.73 did u put everyone on this song 😕 yourusername

→ yourusername yeah..

→ edwards.73 thought it was just me

→ dylanduke25 dont act all jealous 🙄🙄

username55 you’re. so. pretty.

dylanduke25 creds creds creds creds creds

→ yourusername creds!

→ edwards.73 why’d you take the pics

→ dylanduke25 bc we were hanging out?? 😭

→ edwards.73 oh

username89 omg babe where’s your top from

→ yourusername im gonna be honest i have no idea vivi got it for me as a gift 😔🙏

→ vivianliu i custom made it 🤭

mackie.samo this is so #cottagecore and #aesthetic

→ yourusername who the hell is teaching you this

→ mackie.samo my sisters 😕😕

→ lhughes_06 stop using hashtags good fucking lord

→ markestapa that intervention wasn’t for nothing mack 😒

trevorzegras brent faiyaz our lord and savior

→ yourusername 🛐

rutgermcgroarty HEY why didn’t you post our photos 😞

→ yourusername tis for another time my dear boy

→ rutgermcgroarty shakespeare lookin ass

→ yourusername 🖕

→ adamfantilli guys remember when we were nice to each other

→ yourusername no

→ rutgermcgroarty no

username99 CLOUDED

luca.fantilli is he gonna ask you out or what

→ yourusername luca 😭😭

→ luca.fantilli what?? i’m jus being curious 😔

username35 HELLO????? the fit ate down

vivianliu fuck her on the floor like i don’t give a fuck bout it 🎶🎶🎶🎶

→ yourusername your judgement get clouded when you clouted

→ vivianliu your judgement is clouded as hell

→ yourusername HOW???

→ vivianliu you know 😐😐

→ edwards.73 stop hating lil bro

→ vivianliu i hope you drown

username76 that second pic got me kicking my feet n shit

username21 skincare routine when???

username3 how are you not a model

adamfantilli let me tie your shoes bc i don’t want you falling for anyone else

→ yourusername no

→ adamfantilli did your license get suspended for driving all those guys crazy?

→ yourusername adam babe we talked about this

→ adamfantilli do you play soccer? bc you look like a keeper

_alexturcotte i got you new sneakers 🥰

→ yourusername REALLY??

→ _alexturcotte i figured you’d need them after running through my mind all day

→ yourusername oh god please don’t make this into a habit

→ colecaufield stop harassing her with pickup lines turcs

username69 we all know ethan’s going feral over this one

→ username14 fr i can sense it from here

username5 the hughes genes are godly asf

next chapter notes ) this is my way of coping through the pain of being a stars fan anyways should ethan n rosie finally get together 🫢

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

[star-dust-shark]

pjo characters as weird and dumb things me and my friends have said

Percy: what the fuck is cockblocking like I can't block ur cock on Snapchat

-

Will: UUUUUUUGH MY ASS HURTS- ooh look a butterfly

-

Leo: I CANT FIND MY PRETTY STICKER- AW FUCK- SHIT- MY VAGINA- OOAOoOoOOooAHAHHAgh

-

Jason: I can't actually believe I just agreed with you but hey here we are

-

Reyna: why the fuck am I friends with any of you hoes

-

Piper: should I...? too late I did it

-

Will: the best way to rizz someone up is by rizzing them up *turns to friend, winks horribly* hey baby girl

-

Rachel: one sec getting my anger out *aggressively splatters paint on canvas*

-

Annabeth: sometimes I'm smart. When I'm smart, I'm smart. *awkward thumbs up and grimace*

-

Octavian: fuck the gays they should all die ... I mean I could fuck some gays

-

Hazel: I'll make you tea but not in a sweet way I'll make it so hot in burns your tongue and you can't speak for a week

-

Frank: hey guys check me out I'm a furry on drugs *WOOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF*

-

Grover: I love plants :3 specifically magic mushrooms but like

-

Leo: I mean I would totally fuck you but like respect man

-

Will: Ugh fuck my life I hate everything *coldplay starts playing* I retract the previous statement I fucking love life

-

Jason: UGH UR ALL SO DUMB but I'm in

-

Nico: if u wanna kys clap ur hands *rapidly claps hands*

-

Piper: *hypnotizes u with my beautiful blue orbs* come over to my house

-

Hazel: respectfully hope you die <3

-

Frank: I'm on acid what's it called when a ton of cats jump on each other a dog pile or a cat pile

-

Reyna: OH THANK GOD- sike I don't believe in that motherfucker hahahha

-

Annabeth: I'm so smart *holds up the one good test I got in school* see the teacher even gave me an 11/10 because I wrote my name in a cool font

-

Leo: UUUUUGGGGGHHHH IM SO HORNY- *mom walks in* oh hi mom how are you

-

Will: we can just... fuck. as friends though no homo.

-

Rachel: IF I DON'T DRAW SOMETHING IN THE NEXT FEW MINUTES I AM GOING TO MAUL SOMEONE

-

Octavian: you all suck and I hate you *silence* no wait come back

-

Someone: haha ur gay

Nico: yeah??? and ur not?? like don't knock it until you try it dick is yummy man

-

Hazel: someone just told me what smearing is and honestly I kinda wanna die *fix you by coldplay starts playing* LMAO WTF

-

Frank: you sad ass emo dog just be happy

-

Percy: I Am OnE wiTh ThE oCeAn AnD HopEfuLLy aLL oF ThE hOt MerPeOpLe In iT

-

Leo: *talking to literally nobody* hey guys!! gonna go get my top surgery! *shows up at claires*

-

Reyna: I only wanna die sometimes and that's normal right

RIGHT

-

Will: *playing guitar* haha look guys I'm fingering A minor *strums violently*

-

Jason: screw men *eyes widen* I should start taking my own advice ngl

-

Will: *listening to a playlist that Nico made him* ugh my emo ass boyfriend and his stupid music I hate him *proceeds to write his name over and over again in diary with hearts around it*

-

Nico: what if I strangle someone with a pair of earbuds

Will: please don't

-

Leo: *in demonic voice* LeAf *eats it*

-

Nico: *pulls gay flag out of pocket* omg it's u

Will: *shuffles around in pocket, finds condom* ... it's u, vanilla flavoured

-

Leo: my name's Leo

Percy: and I like jugs

Nico: I'm mentally ill

Leo: and I'm on drugs :D

-

Jason: is there anything better than pussy

Piper: I thought you where gay

Jason:

Jason: my boyfriend's trans?

-

Will: the temptation to fuck an emo boy rn is killing me

-

Leo: the masculine urge to

Leo:

Leo: I forgor

-

Will: that's good!

Nico: like me in bed

*silence*

-

Leo: smash or pass Ryan Gosling

Nico: SMASH

Will: PASS

Solangelo: *glares at each other*

-

Nico: omg stop with that song

Will: but

Will: but you can take me hot to go :(

-

Annabeth: yeah

Percy: yeah

Annabeth: *in funny voice* yeah

Percy *hentai moan* yEEEAAAaaH

-

Leo: *pointing at Nico* EEEEEEWWWW AN EMOOOOOO EWWW

-

Jason: never ever look up what an eyesha erotica lyric means

Reyna:

Reyna: oh you poor soul *pats back*

-

Nico: I can't breathe

Will: just

Will: breathe air

Nico: I breathe drugs

-

Piper: I'm gonna go play basketball

Leo: haha play with my balls

Jason: already do

Leo: *chokes on air*

well that's all sorry for the torture, thanks to @localcosplaymushroom, @crowwolf8, @justagremlinoncaffeine, and @secret-mewtwo for all of the funny convos that went into this

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus Episode 265 Betrays the Series' Own Messages of Consent

I've been keeping it on the down low lately with new episodes of LO, both for the sake of my mental health and because LO itself has just become so... pointless and boring. There's only so much to say when nothing is happening, and in that regard, I will preface this with a "congratulations" towards Rachel, because she's finally found a way to best the "haters" - make the comic so boring that there's nothing worth talking about to begin with.

At first glance I thought this was going to be another one of those episodes. Good job, Rachel, you managed to pad out another episode with pointless fluff to get you closer to that looming end date. Just keep dragging, just keep dragging, just keep dragging-

But the longer I sat on it, and read the comments and posts about it in discussion circles, the more I've realized that this episode in particular has a load of issues that I don't feel good just sitting on and not talking about. Primarily because, over the course of about 90% of this episode's length, we see Lore Olympus - and Rachel - slyly undo everything that ever mattered in its subtext about consent, healthy relationships, and strong communication.

Granted, Lore Olympus has never exactly been the poster child for those things, but it's trying to be, so we're going to dissect it with an equal amount of scrutiny. It wants to be taken seriously, so I'm going to take it seriously and criticize it seriously.

CONTENT WARNING: EPISODE 265 SPOILERS AHEAD, AS WELL AS DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH, GROOMING, AND SYMPTOMS OF MANIA, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Episode 265 opens with an attempt at plot progression, returning to Morpheus who, last we checked, had been targeted by Kronos as the cliffhanger for Episode 259 before being shoved aside entirely for multiple episodes worth of Demophoon, pool-fucking, and a vision from Hera.

Honestly, I won't waste my 30 image limit on the episode's opening sequence because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. And by the time it starts to try and state what that goal is, it transitions away, because Rachel has the attention span of a squirrel on meth and having Morpheus state what her plan is would just be too much dedicated writing for her at this point, she needs another week at least to figure it out.

So instead we get exactly what was promised in the FastPass previews - the entire episode is spent, yet again, on Hades and Persephone, with the exact same topics, conclusions, and terrible sex as the pool scene.

Seriously, this might be a nitpick, but I'm so tired of Persephone not being allowed to swear. We've seen other characters swear. We've even had Kronos call her a "dumb fucking bitch". But this "girlboss" character who we're supposed to believe has "agency" can't be allowed to swear even when they're in an ACTUALLY STRESSFUL SITUATION? You know purity culture isn't exclusive to sex, right, Rachel? If you're gonna deconstruct it, maybe don't have the poster child of that deconstruction be relegated to a church girl? She's literally the Queen of the Underworld - adjacent to the ruler of Hell - let her fucking swear LMAO

Anyways, we see very quickly that Persephone is still feeling the ill effects of her anxiety that she was feeling in the last episode. Anxiety that, by the way, caused her to pass out. Please keep that in mind, don't let it escape.

And what is she stressing over? The genocide? The fact that they still don't have an actual solution to the ongoing "plague"?

Nah. The sleep dive. She's stressing over her husband doing the sleep dive again and - like last time - turning into a dad-possessed monster.

As always, the fear and anxiety is in no way linked to the actual devastation happening outside - it's just concern for the main male lead, because that's all Persephone's character and thoughts and opinions and "agency" can revolve around.

But uh. Remember that scene where Hades got possessed by Kronos and literally strangled her? Remember that scene I just asked you to keep in your brain about her panic attacks getting so bad she's been passing out?

Hello? No? Okay. Next.

I hate, I loathe, I detest this dialogue. Not because it's cliche as fuck - it is - but because the whole "I trust you, it's just xyz I don't trust" shit has been overplayed and debunked as a plausible response in relationship communication for years now.

We talked about this back during our discussion of Leuce - how it shouldn't matter if Persephone doesn't trust Leuce because ultimately Leuce can't do anything to her or Hades' relationship if it's built on as much "trust" as she claims it is, trusting Hades is all that should matter full stop - and it repeats itself here, albeit with Hades' dad instead of his canon first wife. This is a copout. Relationships actually built on trust can definitely still be worried about the issues posed by other people, but if you trust your partner, if you truly trust your partner, that's it. That's where the sentence ends. No shit you don't trust Kronos, we've been over this song and dance multiple times before and while he's definitely a bigger real threat than Leuce, your distrust for Kronos has nothing to do with how you're communicating with your partner who knows there's likely no other way and a solution has to be found. Nothing's being accomplished at this point from Persephone moping around and having sex with her husband, and he's showing 10x more initiative in actually finding a solution - even if it means putting his own safety at risk - than Persephone.

I didn't edit any of that, those are the legit real panels. Literally what the fuck is this dialogue, my tinfoil hat theory about LO being written by ChatGPT is becoming more and more plausible and I hate that, my crackpot theories shouldn't actually become reality.

Is there an owl in here?

LO is just spinning its wheels over the exact same conversation and points that have already been made. Nothing is being accomplished here, it's just more moping and going over the same problems - the centre of which being "what about H x P's relationship?? :(((("

All of that repetitive meandering and moping for "okay fine but if anything feels weird, get out" "okay". It, again, accomplishes nothing that couldn't have been accomplished during the pool scene.

And now we get this line. "I experienced greed in that way, and you do not possess it." Don't be alarmed if you were confused, I was confused too, as were many people in the discussion circles. Thanks to the ULO Discord, I realized she was talking about Apollo. She's literally comparing him to Apollo.

"After all this time, I can't comprehend you causing me harm. I've been at the receiving end of harm so I would know" is literally all she's trying to say. And even with it translated... I don't really like the implications of it at all. This has been a problem since S1, but there's always been this subtext in LO that because Hades didn't rape her, that somehow makes him less abusive or a better partner for Persephone than Apollo, that's all the SA has really been trying to achieve.

But Hades is abusive. He's intentionally pursued women who are in a crisis. He's trapped women in financial dependency. He's sabotaged women from having power and status on the same level as him.

And now, we're about to see actual abuse from Hades - the subtle kind that demands co-dependency, but is still abuse, full stop - but it's being framed as "romantic".

"Being an Originals creator was my big chance to prove myself, and I flopped"- wait sorry I misread. We're talking about Persephone failing at being Queen. Yeah, she definitely flopped. And it goes to show her true intentions in wanting to be Queen, now that she's hit rock bottom and isn't putting on a brave PR face - she wanted to become Queen not to make the Underworld a better place, not to be an example of being a better ruler among a gallery of scumbags, but to "prove" that she could belong and be one of the big guys, that she could be more than just a cereal box mascot.

Don't get me wrong, I can absolutely get wanting to rise above the odds and "prove" to everyone that you can be more than people's perceptions of you, but becoming the literal ruler of a realm that you then go on to destroy due to your own hubris, just to whine and cry about it and have your husband and your colleagues and your friends carry the burden of that destruction on your behalf... therapy would have been a better first step to overcoming those insecurities, not taking control over the lives of innocent people.

Especially when Persephone DID have status and power before becoming Queen, it just wasn't the specific kind of status and power she wanted. She was only a trust fund child with a huge net worth, a full-ride scholarship, and everything she could ever need provided to her with little struggle to get it - but she didn't have control over other people so it just wasn't good enough.

This is the perspective and attitude of a 19 year old who never matured. Who never could mature because she transitioned from her mother's control into Hades'. There were far better ways to prove herself, ways that we had seen her try to do, only to drop so she could pursue her co-dependent relationship with Hades - she gave up her schooling, gave up her apartment (which we only see her use maybe 2-3 times), gave up so many of her connections and support so she could be with Hades.

This is the result of 5 years of real-time grooming that we're seeing play out.

No, you are just saying them because she's your wife. You'd be saying it to Minthe, or Leuce, or Hera, or any other woman in Persephone's position because it's not about taking accountability, it's about keeping these women in a position of submissiveness and co-dependency, by giving them reassurance that nothing they ever do is wrong and that he's the only one that can give them that freedom from consequences.

And then we get the reinforcement.

I'm gonna spare you all the cringe of the actual sex scene (and yes, they do straight up go into having onscreen sex and it's... not hot at all), but here's some of the dialogue spoken by Hades during the entire sequence:

Again, let's remember the actual situation that led up to this and the position Persephone is currently in. For the third time Persephone has "accidentally" killed thousands of people. Over the past few episodes we've seen her try to realize how so many of these problems have been her fault and she clearly doesn't know how to make things right (and Rachel has made it obvious how much she doesn't want you to agree with this kind of self-awareness because much of it is being said through the mouthpiece of a rapist). And now we have Hades, reinforcing the thought patterns that would prevent her from growing and learning and changing. In this, a comic that's supposed to be "feminist", a comic that's trying to preach the importance of consent, a comic that's trying to make us believe this is a healthy, consenting relationship with strong communication skills.

These are literally grooming tactics. Hades is reinforcing the same thought patterns that will prevent Persephone from acknowledging her errors and mistakes. People are dying and Hades is telling her that if anyone has anything to say about it, they deserve to die anyways. The same man who literally rewarded her with sex for vandalizing a nymph's home is now telling her that she's not cruel, but kind:

Hades might not be Apollo, but he literally choked her out less than a week ago while possessed by his dad, and for the last SEVERAL episodes he's had the starry skin making him resemble who? Oh yeah, his dad.

Hades is literally holding Persephone in the same position Kronos did, while she's experiencing a literal meltdown that she's trying to stuff deep down - in fact, exhibiting a LOT of symptoms of mania - and initiating sex.

Doesn't this feel a little familiar?

Oh right, but he asks her if she's "still okay" mid sex only AFTER initiating chokehold sex with her without her consent and love-bombing her, so it's fine, clearly.

I remember being 17 years old and reading Fifty Shades of Grey for the first time, and even then understanding fully how toxic their relationship was. I can only hope the teenagers in Rachel's comment section can realize that as well, but judging by the comment section, I'm not holding out hope. This is literally "fifty shades of fucked up" material, and what's worse is that I can't tell if Rachel genuinely thinks this is healthy, or just doesn't realize how unhealthy it's coming across as. Even beyond how "cringe" this sequence is, it enters into the realm of being deeply uncomfortable and unsettling, and it needs to be talked about, Rachel can't be let off the hook for this especially when this is supposed to be, again, a comic that's intending to "deconstruct purity culture" and teach young girls about consent and boundaries.

And that's it, that's the end of the episode. It reads like the manifesto of a villain in the making at the hands of a predator, like Anakin being manipulated by Palpatine - "so long as you're with me, you'll have all the power, all the glory, and everyone else will be crushed underneath your heel."

Is that really the message we really want to come away from LO from? That it's fine for husbands to initiate sex with their wives through trauma-bonding and reinforcement of toxic thought patterns rooted in grooming because... they're married? That being a "girlboss" means sabotaging and abusing anyone who you perceive as a threat?

Is Hades really that much different from Apollo? Because so far, the line between his actions and Apollo's are seriously starting to blur. The parallels between Persephone and his past partners - Minthe and Hera - have always been clear, but they've never been quite so loud as last night's episode.

This is Hades' play, the play of a groomer and an abuser who depends on making their victims dependent on them - taking advantage of women while they're in a crisis.

For Minthe, it was financial - she had lost her job, blamed it on him, and he found a way to "solve her problem" that strategically put her into a position where she had to continue to financially depend on him for what's assumed to at least be a year or longer, through her apartment, her bills, and her job.

For Hera, it was emotional - she had chosen Zeus over him, and instead of addressing her marital concerns within the marriage, she participated in an affair with Hades in an attempt to have what she could have had if she had chosen Hades instead, a man who resembles her own abuser. Not only did this put her into a much more vulnerable position than him - if the affair was found out, Hera would have suffered the consequences far more than Hades - but it's also manifested itself into Persephone, who Hera has been using as a stand-in for herself, even going so far as to manipulate Persephone's image and how she goes about her decision-making, from intentionally pulling the strings to get Persephone a job with Hades so she could get closer to him as a "test" for Hades, to forcing Persephone to wear a wedding dress she wanted her to wear over the one Persephone had actually picked out herself.

And now there's Persephone, the newest addition to the cycle of abuse and untreated trauma, the true culmination of Hades' years trapping and manipulating women - financially dependent on him, emotionally dependent on him, and only where she is because she's made her entire identity revolve around him.

I'm not going to psychoanalyze Rachel in any way, I don't want anyone to think that this is permission to do so because Rachel's personal life is her own and I want to examine the material rather than the person. But so much of LO gives me such a gross impression that Rachel herself never matured past middle school, that she never grew beyond the mindset of being a 13 year old girl who felt like the entire world was against her and that no one could understand her, that she never gained the perspective most adults do by the time they're 25 at minimum after they've entered the "real world" and had the lived experiences that make you realize "wow, that girl I hated in high school for stealing my crush from me probably wasn't as bad as I thought she was and we were all just teenagers trying to navigate the hellscape that is adolescence."

And instead of actually analyzing those thought patterns and mindsets, Rachel is instead reinforcing it in her own audience of 13 year old girls and teenagers who will only hopefully maybe outgrow it and not just repeat the cycle themselves.

And this isn't entirely on Rachel's shoulders. It's on the shoulders of E.L. James, of Stephanie Meyer, of Colleen Hoover, of every "young adult" romance author who's peddled this strictly heteronormative "submission culture but not like the 1950's kind I swear" crap, that women should only aspire to find the richest man they can bag in their pursuit for power and after that everything in the world is owed to them and any problem they have can be solved by riding dick. Trauma? Solved. Genocide? Solved. The very real consequences of your own actions that affect others to such a degree that it will be felt for decades? Solved. Just ride that dick and get that money, girlboss.

Just like 50 Shades of Grey, if Lore Olympus was any other story, it would be a tragedy. It would be a masterclass in understanding and showcasing the signs of emotional abuse, financial abuse, grooming, trauma-bonding, love-bombing, and enforcing co-dependent habits for the sake of trapping people. It would be a precautionary tale to young girls to stay alert and be wary of older men, that men like Hades are depending on girls to fall for their tricks, their praise, their affirmations that they're so mature for their age, that they're not like other girls, that they would just be so set for life if they spent all their time and attention with them, so that they can "have it all".

I can only hope that even a third of the young girls who read LO naturally grow up, gain perspective, and learn that LO isn't the pillar of healthy relationships and consent that it tries to be. It's certainly a common thing to see these days, for people to join the UnpopularLoreOlympus / #antiloreolympus community with sentiments that they started reading it at age 14 and then (thankfully) learned that what LO was preaching wasn't healthy.

But for every other girl who doesn't realize this, it's reinforcement of the same cycles - the cycle of women being only objects for sex, pitting themselves against one another, confusing gender empowerment with abuse towards others, and making their entire identity revolve around a man and justifying it as healthy so long as it makes them rich and powerful.

Even if Rachel some day gets her own head out of her ass and realizes what damage she's causing in her audience, like Persephone committing genocide, no amount of self-awareness will undo the consequences. She'll still have the awards, the money, the accolades, everything she's gained off the backs of Greek myth, feminism, and good faith from an immature audience who doesn't know any better and isn't being given the tools to understand.

Even if she realizes that, that's something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her career.

And it's a fucking tragedy.

[sillyhahasilly]

i saw your cal as andres passenger princess hc. I NEED MORE SPECIFICALLY ABOUT THAT!!!!!!

as I've established, cal cannot drive.

when he needs to go somewhere, he relies on the mercy of his parents, andre, or rachel. his parents are busy w responsible adult shit and younger siblings, so they either can't or cal doesn't want to go thru the bother of asking and dealing w his parents annoyance. he also rlly likes to be self sufficient in the eyes of them. they are the last option.

rachel drives him around when they are hanging out together or if he needs it and she is free. cal loves her company so he is always chill to hitch a ride from her. but..... she has a very vibrant social life. half the time she is busy and twice he has been surprised by some of her friends that he can't stand being in the car when she picks him up. cal would describe that as TORTURE to andre later. second option.

and then there is andre. his loser best friend who doesn't do anything besides track and work. cal doesn't worry abt asking to much when it comes to andre. they are js like that, for some reason. first option :)

andre is not very good at saying no to cal, even when they first became friends, so when he learned to drive passive aggressively saying "fine I can drive you, whatever" became routine.

cal jokingly calls andre his chauffeur and andre always responds, "I'm not ur fucking slave." cal also pretends to hitchhike at the edge of his lawn when he knows andre is abt to pull up. bro will stand there like 🧍‍♂️waiting to see andres car turn onto his street so he can put his thumb up. once cal opened andres door when he was picking him up from a shady alleyway that cal was buying weed at and said, "20 for a handy, 30 for a blowie" pretending to be prostitute. needless to say andre yelled at him and told him to js get in the car, cal, please. (the hand on thigh thing from the og hc happened the same night as the prostitute joke)

andre plays back at him by driving rlly rlly risky to scare cal. swerving around an empty road, going too fast over speed bumps, shit like that.

I've scene hcs that say that andres roadrage is worse when he is driving alone but I actually think it's worse w cal bc cal encourages him. cal gets road rage and he doesn't even drive. it's like a positive feedback loop between them lmao.

cal helps andre w directions. he used to be useless at it but he has gotten a lot better.

andre does a lot of yapping when he drives and cal listens. it can go both ways tho.

if andre needs smth that is in the car when he is driving, cal gets it for him. for example, if they are getting fast food cal will unwarp andres burger for him and put his straw in the cup. little things.

cal is in control of the aux cuz he has better music taste. he brings his own tapes.

andre used to have a rule of no messy food in his car but after many not to serious fights w cal when he tries to bring it in he stopped caring. it is nice to have ur bud hand you a small handful of chips every now and then.

cal is one of those mfs that falls asleep in cars so easily. when andre notices that cal is asleep he turns the music down and puts the windows up if it's late or he knows cal is tired. other times he will wake cal up without mercy.

thank you for the ask anon!!! I didn't mean for this to be so long lol it all js came out

[bcolfanfic]

need more about the bucks' baby micah, headcanons or blurb i want more!!! (please, and when you have time ofc)

for ref

doing this in headcan0ns list form bc im tired from the time zone switch back to the states

the bucks do, as reffed in that blurb, turn the car around from going to wisconisn to go back to wyoming. end up having to get a hotel somewhere for the night so they don't drive more or less 20 hours roundtrip themselves into an early grave. but yeah.

swing josie by gale's sister’s house on the way back to sheridan. don't explain all the details but have to give her *some* explanation when they go from headed them to wisconsin to now suddenly back in wyoming.

maybe don't explain that this baby is her biological sibling right away but just. say that someone they know needs help with their baby, and that they gotta go back because they don't want him to be in the hospital by himself. pretty word salady but they're exhausted and she's five so. it is what is for the time being.

get to the hospital and get scrubbed in to down to the nicu with natalie to go see him. john's head still feels like his head is still in in spin-mode to the extent that he's not really processing everything fully.

but gale sees that itty bitty baby in his little nicu incubator with a little tube in his nose and is just. distraught.

has to sit down after a minute because its making his chest hurt. he just can't fathom how little he is and how he's in *danger* and how connected he already feels to him.

he gets reallll "woowoo" about the fact that he finally brought up wanting another kid to john all of 20 minutes before they got the call about him. feels like he somehow already intrinsically knew about him before he actually knew.

so kinda the reverse of how it was with josie- gale instantly feels bonded to him and john has a little bit of a harder time.

loves him so much already, is worried sick with all the preemie health stuff he's got going on. its just hard to process how fast everything is happening. if him and gale had sat down and decided to go the infant adoption route that'd be one thing.

in that case he'd have a lot more time to work through his hurdles re: being scared of having a baby, of being responsible for someone's life from scratch etc etc. but here he only had the drive back from wisconsin.

calls his mom a lot. calls curt a lot. that helps.

lil guy doesn't have a name for the first week of his life lmao. they just call him buddy and baby boy and then john is sitting up w/ gale one night and asks if he's given any thought to his name.

they land on micah curtis. micah as a riff off of michael the archangel, and curtis after their best friend (:

curt cries when he finds out. sweet man.

john's mom comes out from wisconsin and when she's there at the hospital that's when both the bucks go to gale's sister's house and have to explain to josie- the best they can- the full details.

poor peanut is so conflicted about Everything. has been confused about not seeing either of her dads in the same room for almost two weeks. is excited about having a baby sibling- but confused about why if he's /her/ sibling from her mom why she can't see her mom.

just a lot of Big Feelings, which gale and john handle the best that they can. good dads <3

i think it finally really Clicks for john when micah is doing okay enough that theyre allowed to hold him. looks at that lil guy in his lil nicu baby beanie sleeping on his chest and just. yeah. big thats my son, i would do anything for you feelings.

john gets really into sitting by his lil incubator and reading to him. nice way to bond that isn't super overwhelming. makes gale heart happy to watch. his boyssss.

this is getting super long lmao so ill cut if off here. but i wove micah- and rachel and i have developed a looottt of lore about him as a teenager/young adult (specifically re: him and wyatt- helen's baby with nash/ev's step son). so feel free to come prompt me to yap more!

[yelenasdiary]

Heyyy♥️ I wanted to request Melina x fem!reader with prompt 48 from your prompt list?

48. kids falling asleep in the car on the way home and their parents don’t want to wake them up

Maybe they have like a family fun day and all the fluff. I know that this is probably not Melina coded but I want to be married to Rachel/Melina so this is all I have 🥲

Another Block?

Pairing: Melina Vostokoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: After a family day out, the girls, Yelena and Natasha are fast asleep in the back and just for a moment, everything seems perfectly normal.

Tiny Angst | Fluff | No Warnings | 0.9K |

AC: My first Melina request!!! I took a little spin on this; I hope that’s okay! Reader is Yelena and Natasha’s “parents”. No hate to Alexei, I love him lmao. I hope you enjoy this x 

A family outing with your little family wasn't at all a part of the mission you and Melina were directed to do but it did fall under the category of making the "pretend family" as Dreykov could call it, look real. You and Melina decided to take the girls to the Cedar Point Amusement Park for the day. Of course, at first, Natasha, the eldest wasn't too interested in the idea but Yelena couldn't hide her excitement. She requested her song, American Pie about five times before Melina had to convince her to listen to the radio for a little while. 

Once arriving at the theme park, you instantly saw the hidden excitement in Natasha's eyes as she looked up at one of the rollercoasters. A soft smile tugged at your lips before you felt Yelena excitedly pull at your jacket, "Come on Ma!" she smiled widely, showing you exactly how many of her adult teeth were beginning to come through. 

"Natasha are you ready?" you asked, looking at the young teen while Melina grabbed the backpacks out of the car. 

"Yeah, let's go" Natasha slightly rolled her eyes to prove to you and Melina that just going on a family outing wasn't going to change what she already knew. 

Given Yelena was only 6 years old, everything was new and exciting to her. Her jaw dropped at each new ride her eyes locked onto, at least for her this was a real and her little mind never gave it a second thought unlike Natasha who struggled to allow herself to enjoy days like these. 

"Yelena, no running off please!" Melina reminded the young girl who ran ahead, stopping at Melina's words. "But mom! I don't want to miss the good rides!" She turned on her heels, causing both you and Melina to chuckle. "You don't love, the park doesn't close until night" you smiled softly. Melina took a hold of Yelena's small hand and walked ahead, giving you a chance to talk to Natasha. 

"You know, today isn't about making this look real" you spoke as you walked alongside the teen with blue hair. "You say that but everything we do is too make us look like we're a real family and one day, I'll have to go back. What happens to Yelena when the time comes?" Natasha snapped as she looked up at you. 

Mission or not, it broke your heart to hear those words come from her mouth. Three years doesn't seem like a long time but within the time of being together as a four, your heart grew to love the girls as if they were your own, you see them as your own and nothing would ever change that, you just wish Natasha would see that.

"Things will be different, I promise" you replied, lying to her and you hated yourself for it. 

"How?" Natasha asked with the tiniest hint of hope in her voice. 

"Because, neither Melina or I will let anything happen you girls and I know you're having a hard time trying to see that, but I love you, Natasha. You're my daughter and no mission will change that" 

"But you can't promise that when I go back, that things will be okay" 

"I can and I am. Melina is a lot closer to Dreykov than I am, if you think she'll let him hurt you or Yelena in anyway, you don't know Melina well enough" you replied, seeing your words put the teen at ease. She smiled, "I love you too" Her words came to you in an almost whisper, but they warmed your heart. 

----

After hours of going on ride after ride, snack after snack and of course some shopping, it was time to head home. Yelena was coming off a sugar high and both you and Melina could tell how tired the girls were. After your talk with Nat, she let her guard down a little and allowed herself to enjoy the day as a normal 11-year-old. 

"Thank you for taking us" Nat smiled at both you and Melina as you all gathered at the car. 

"You're very welcome girls" Melina smiled, helping Yelena into her seat. You smiled back at Natasha, for the first time in a while she looked genuinely happy. 

The car ride home was rather quiet, everybody was too tired and achy to want much of a conversation but of course, Yelena asked if Mac n Cheese was on the menu for tonight's dinner. "I'm sure we can cook some up when we're home" you replied, looking at the 6-year-old through the review mirror. 

The radio played softly as Melina drove you all home, your hand resting gently in her free hand, her thumb stroking your knuckles with love as you watched passing vehicles through the window. "They both had a lot of fun today" Melina whispered when she saw both girls in the backseat asleep. "Natasha seemed to really enjoy herself as well" she added. 

"I'm really proud of her today and letting herself enjoy the day" you replied, looking over at Melina as she pulled up in the drive away. "Do we have to move them?" you asked in a whisper, looking over your shoulder. 

"Let's just do another block and see if they wake up, if not, we'll park in the garage and wake them when dinner is ready" Melina suggested, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Moments like these made you both forget the meaning of everything, the red room, the mission, the widow program and most importantly, Dreykov. It was just you, your wife and the two young and beautiful girls you shared with her and as Melina took her time, driving another block with her free hand intertwined with yours, you forever wished things would never change.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; jealousy; negative self-talk; talks of miscarriage and hysterical pregnancy; allusions to childhood abuse; talks of pregnancy; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; therapy; talks of grieving a baby; pregnancy hormones (just the beginning lol); reader checking Jake out and being sad while she does it (lmao) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 22.1k+

a/n: sorry it took a month, besties... hopefully this angsty fucking chapter makes up for it lmao <3

and don't worry, i won't be gone long ;)

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 30, 2022

Birds were chirping. The melodies of an acoustic guitar playing lullabies made your heart warm in your chest. A baby’s cries were being mellowed by the sound of the guitar. A smile, reaching the baby’s face that matched the one on the man playing the strings.

But you couldn’t look at him. Only the bundle of pure, unadulterated, untouched love in your arms; her eyes, looking the same as his, caught yours, the color of caramel coffee. . . twinkling just like his. . .

All pink and white and golden rays of sunshine.

Then, it was gone. 

No. Not again.

There was no more peace. No more lullabies. No more love from parent to child. . .

All dark and dirty and ear-piercing screams. 

A sister, trying to cover your eyes from what was happening, just inches in front of you.

Then there were hands. Hands gripping at your arms, the sister screeching, yelling and clawing for you as she got ripped away. As you got picked up so harshly your head hit something hard, making you dizzy. . . 

When you closed your eyes from the dizziness, you opened them afterwards to see that your sister was back. But she was older this time. 

Elsie. She was stunningly beautiful, as you knew she would grow up to be. Put together in an outfit that resembled that of Rachel Green. Her hair, flowing in strawberry blonde, soft waves around her delicate features and her blue eyes were wide open and wondering. Searching your eyes for something hidden in them. . .

What was she wanting? You couldn’t tell . . . Just as you were about to speak to ask her, she was in front of you, nudging you, not nearly as abrasively as the hands from before. 

You studied her quizzically – why was she–?

“Wake up!”

And the next time you blinked, your eyes were opened wide. 

To reality. To Elsie, shaking your arm in the present. You were an adult, she was an adult. Things were okay.

Life was safe again.

Shit. I’m so tired of that fucking dream, you thought angrily, sitting up and letting the covers fall away from your sweaty, tensed body. 

Blinking furiously, you let yourself cling to the softness— the safety of your bed. The bed hugged you, cocooned you in the fluffy down comforter. You were in your clean, quiet apartment. . . the rays peeking through your bedroom windows the same as they’d been at the beginning of your dream. 

“Sis,” Elsie said your name, out of all of her patience. “Come the fuck on. I’m hungry and I need coffee so bad. You know me. You know I’m about to lose all ability in my limbs if I don’t have caffeine stat–I need it. To survive,” she clutched her chest dramatically. “Please. Get your lazy ass up.”

You rolled your eyes with a giant huff, throwing your covers off of you to try and hit her with them. When you heard her gasp and slap at the covers, you figured you succeeded. 

“Y/n!” She said, backing up from the bed. When you saw her next, her hair was sticking up on all sides from static. Success. But she was laughing, finding it funny nonetheless. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said, sitting up to stretch a little. You had to fight the urge to put a hand to your tummy. Not in front of Elsie. “Now leave, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before,” she argued. “Nothing I haven’t seen already.”

There sure as hell is something you haven’t seen on me already. . . Albeit a little small, but rounder nonetheless. 

“Well I don’t want you to look at my naked body this morning, so get the fuck out.”

You were getting irritated. Just wanted to change in peace. Wanted to hold your belly to start the day. It was routine at this point.

She growled, opening your door. “You have five minutes, or I’m leaving your ass.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you pulled up to Waffle House, scream-singing Ariana Grande lyrics with Elsie at the top of your lungs, you were sincerely hoping that your stomach wouldn’t roll at the smell of the greasy breakfast food. 

The nostalgia of the morning was something you wanted to wrap up tight and not let flutter away in the crisp and cool October breeze.

Please, sweet baby, you pleaded. Love Waffle House with me. Don’t make me give this up.

You wanted this with Els. This particular establishment had been cathartic to you and your sister for several years. Talks that far surpassed therapy sessions occurred here, in the back booth, almost completely surrounded by windows. . . The thought of sitting in that back booth was enough to make you cry right on the spot. 

And the All Star Special sounded so fucking delicious. Good sign that it at least still sounded good, right? 

You just wanted scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns with ketchup, and a gigantic waffle with the restaurant name pressed in the middle. It was all you wanted at that moment. Truly. Nothing more, nothing less. . . Your mouth was watering.

Cheesy and strange as it was, you were quite literally crossing your fingers that the food wouldn’t make you projectile vomit as Elsie opened the door for you two. 

Please don’t make me sick, please don’t make me sick. . .

To your extreme relief, your tummy didn’t knot and squeeze. No bile came to the base of your throat. . . In fact, the vanilla waffle mixture, the sizzling, salty smell of the bacon and ham. . . it was better than before. Your heightened senses welcomed the scrumptious, sentimental scents that came with the establishment. 

And the back booth was open! 

Tears literally pricked your eyes at the sight. And you must’ve sniffled because Elsie spun around, where you waited to be seated, and checked on you with worried eyes.

“You okay?” She pondered, her tone light with a joke, but eyes still serious. 

Not able to fully collect yourself thanks to the fantastic hormonal effects of your pregnancy, you felt a tear hit your cheek when you sniffled once more. 

“Yeah,” goddamn, even your voice sounded fucking wet with emotion. “Just happy to be here with you.”

Tell her, y/n. Let her help you. . .Tell her.

Fuck that came out of nowhere. 

The soft, reassuring voice being the one to guide you would take a lot of getting used to if it was going to continue as the one to help you, rather than the harsh, critical one that’d taunted you since you were a child.

Honestly, when the calm voice came to you, your mind settled in the waves of reassurance. This was the voice you longed to hear anytime the dark one wanted to boss you around. . .wanted to push you down when you were up. 

It always spoke soft truths to you. This voice didn’t make you feel like utter shit; this was the one that sounded more like Elsie than you’d like to admit.

As you started walking to your beloved booth, you were trying to find a solid reason to not tell Elsie right now. . . You had to tell someone. Right? And it was killing you to be around her and keep her in the dark. She was safe. And, at that moment, the only person you really wanted to tell was your big sister. No matter how bossy she may get, it was worth it to have her know. She was your one and only safety net for years for good reason. 

And she was going to be leaving again tonight until Thanksgiving. There was no way you could wait to tell her until then. 

She’d also never forgive you if you kept it from her for too long. You couldn’t blame her. If roles were reversed, you’d kill her if she waited to tell you until she had a noticeably round belly. . .

You sat down at your booth. You, at the seat with your back to the big windows, her smile wide as she made small talk with the worn-out waitress. Elsie’s smile, though, was big enough it brought a smile to the tired woman’s face. Elsie got along with everybody, and the waitress was no different. 

God, she was sunshine for you. 

As the woman placed your menus down in front of you two, you immediately flipped it to the side with the All Star Special. You watched her kind face, aged from years of hard work, and found comfort in the thickness of her voice from even more years of smoke, as she asked for your drink orders. 

Elsie ordered her blessed coffee and you sat there, contemplating. . . stuck. Normally, you’d order a Mr. Pibb. . .but was that healthy for the baby?

Your sister stared at you, her brows wrinkled as she gave you a questioning smile. 

“Just get her a Mr. Pi–,” Elsie started.

“I’ll take an orange juice,” you finished. 

The sweet waitress left to get your orders ready, and when you looked up from your menu to Elsie’s face again, she was looking at you like you’d grown three heads.

 “Orange juice?!” She asked, as if you’d just insulted her on a great scale. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

You felt nervous under her stare and questions. You were going to tell her anyway. . . why were you feeling your skin prick with nerves? 

“Just felt like getting an orange juice. . .,” you said, shrugging your shoulders to play it off. “No biggie.”

“I cannot remember one time we’ve come here– in the years we’ve come here– where you’ve gotten anything besides a Mr. Pibb.” She leaned across the table to put the back of her hand to your forehead. She then jokingly asked, “Are you well?”

You watched her laugh at her own joke, her eyes, smiling. The same ones you’d looked into when, for years, you’d told her your deepest secrets. . . A couple of things came to your mind. When you lost your virginity and felt like shit about it (for God knows what reason); she’d raised your spirits by telling you she’d felt the same at first, but it got better with time. Then there’d been when you’d smoked weed for the first time and you felt so horribly about it (again, why?); she told you it was not a bad thing to do and that you deserved to feel so free as the drug would make you feel. 

Very rarely had she been extremely judgemental. 

Right now, she was giving you yet another look of concern, though. . .So, you decided. It was time. Now or never.

“Sis, what’s–?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There it was. First time you’d said it out loud. Damn. In that moment, it felt even more real to you, too. 

You were with child. There was a baby in you. There was life growing inside of your uterus. 

Then the opposite train of thought rushed through you. . .were you pregnant? Was the baby still in there? You hadn’t really had time to obsessive-compulsively research any of that yet. Could your tummy still grow if you had a miscarriage? Was that possible? Was there a baby inside of you?

You had to shake your head from your sudden wave of unwelcome, anxious thoughts. There was no reason to believe you’d lost the baby. . . right? Surely. . . You wouldn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. Blinking a few times, you chanced a look at your sister again.

She gaped at you, staying that way until the waitress came back with your drinks, not saying a word. Didn’t even look away from you when the waitress spoke, asking for your orders. You had to tell the woman it would be a minute, while Elsie still zoned out on you. 

Her eyes just bored into yours until you started feeling uncomfortable and irritable. 

Talk, Elsie. Fuck.

You clasped your hands together under the table, over your tummy. . .had to do something with them. And after continuing to wait a couple more minutes, you decided if she wasn’t going to say anything, you would. “Can you say some–?”

“What the fuck?” She asked, voice much louder than it should be for a quiet Sunday morning at Waffle House. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the heads of patrons turn towards you. Inquiring eyes were not what you needed at the moment.

Your cheeks heated as you grit your teeth. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Elsie?” You fumed, automatically defensive for the life inside of you. “I had sex. I got pregnant. Simple as that.”

You’d never felt this sense of protection for anyone in your life. Not even your sister. No, at that moment, you were ready to go to bat for your baby against the woman who’d been your first line of defense your entire life. 

Thankfully the next time she talked, she sounded more subdued and understanding.

“I– I didn’t mean for it to come off that way, babe,” she said, shaking her head, laying a hand against her forehead. Her eyes searched for yours to believe her. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right response.”

“It’s oka–.”

“This is a sensitive time for you–for any woman–my god,” she continued, not letting you make any excuse. “I was just in shock–still am, obviously–but I’m not upset,” she said, pausing. Then she narrowed her eyes, testing you. “How far along are you though?”

You giggled, remembering your earlier thoughts. The two of you were so alike. More like twins than anything, honestly. “I’m only like ten weeks, I think,” you smoothly said. “I found out two weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep it or not, and I didn’t want to tell anyone until I decided. It was my decision and I didn’t want anything or anyone to sway me.”

“That is all valid and correct,” she agreed, nodding her head. Then, she continued asking questions as she poured too much half and half in her coffee. “How do you feel about it? Good? Bad? Sad? Happy? Overjoyed? Utterly depressed?”

Your eyes bugged, and you waved your hands at her once she was drinking from her mug, watching you and waiting for a response. “Damn, slow down,” you began, entwining your hands again, on top of the table this time. “First of all, per usual, I don’t always know how I’m feeling. . . But–it’s strange,” you started, squinting out the window just next to her. “It’s like, this time, instead of bouncing back and forth between sad and mad and confused. . .I’m more bouncing between a variety of happy emotions for this life,” you untangled your hands to once again place them on your tummy, below the table. “The confusion is still there, but for this baby. . .the emotions are mostly positive ones full of hope and love,” you looked back at her. “It’s weird.”

She was squinting at you, nodding her head as she took everything in. 

Then the waitress was back, taking your orders. And just as soon, she was gone.

Elsie spoke before you could. “What changed?”

Snorting, you gave her a look. “Really, Els?”

Yet again, she narrowed her eyes, but this time it was out of annoyance. “You know what I mean.”

You did. She wanted to get to the heart of it. Not the situation. But what had changed inside of you to instigate your new, surprising view of things? You really weren’t sure . . . To be completely honest, this new feeling had just started yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago, you’d made the decision that would change your life forever.

But, you answered the best you could in spite of it all. 

“I don’t know,” you glanced down at your hands, holding your sweater-clad tummy. You hadn’t had to delve into oversized sweaters the past couple of weeks. Not quite yet. Your tummy wasn’t that round. “I just kind of started thinking on behalf of this life I made, and not really myself. I put him, her–whatever the fuck it is– first and doing that just gave me this new outlook. Like I didn’t have all of the time in the world to criticize myself anymore. Because I have someone else to look out for. Someone special–someone whose life I have to be careful with– a life I hold in my hands.”

She giggled. “Literally,” she motioned in the direction of your hand placement. You joined in on her little moment of humor, enjoying the feeling of normalcy with her. She knew, and things were still the same as always. You didn’t feel any weirdness emanating off of her. This moment was easing you and brought you a sense of undefinable calm. Something you’d needed so badly. She kept on, having more to say. “I’m so fucking glad you’re starting to feel lighter,” she stated, reaching a hand out towards you, palm up on the table. “You’ve always carried so much on your shoulders. Always. And it has sucked to watch helplessly. You have hurt for too damn long and you deserve more than anyone to feel this new happiness.” 

The tear that suddenly gathered at the corner of your eye and trickled down your cheek was unstoppable.  

You moved a hand to place in hers and you squeezed each other. “Thanks Els,” you wetly responded. And nothing more– just needed her to know you were thankful.

After a minute of just communicating with your eyes, your food was being brought in small increments. Her biscuits and gravy were placed at the same time as your plate of eggs, hash browns, and ham. 

“Your waffle will be out shortly, honey,” the waitress smokily said, tone sweet as could be. “You two enjoy.”

After you’d both responded with a nod and she was gone, there was no stopping you two from digging in. 

After swallowing her first bite of food with a moan, she looked at you, still chewing your hash browns, which now tasted more like the sugary, tomatoey ketchup you’d smothered them with. 

“God, I was starving,” she said, taking a little sip of her half and half with a dash of coffee. She squeaked a little as she set her coffee down, a smirk on her glossed lips. “Josh would not quit last night.” 

You made a gagging motion at the implication, your brow furrowed with disgust at her words. 

Then, you took your first sip of orange juice. 

Goddamn.

Fuck! Ew. Baby does not like orange juice.

Coughing a little, your throat felt ready to reject the liquid right as it hit your uvula. Gross as it was, you put as much as you could back into the glass, not caring for Elsie’s reaction. 

“That’s not nasty at all,” she sarcastically noted, still chewing her food. 

You kept coughing into your hand, swallowing as much as you could, focusing on getting it down, not wanting to projectile vomit all over your breakfast. 

I’ll show you nasty, Elsie. Don’t test me.

You rolled your eyes at her remark, finally getting the remains of the drink down. You held your napkin to your face, coughing a bit. “Says the woman who’s talking and chewing,” you said, your voice weak to avoid any bile rising in your throat and at the sour, putrid taste still sitting on your tongue. “And you’re one to talk–telling me way more than I need to know about Josh.”

She snickered. “I’ll tell you more. Just say the word.”

Laughing once outright, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that won’t ever be happening,” you tried taking a bite of hash browns to get the taste of orange juice off your tongue. But it only made it worse. Your throat was not ready to accept any more at the moment. Spitting the mushy remains in your napkin, folding it up so as not to offend other customers. Your throat was tight as you responded. “I need water.”

“Here we go, babydoll! Waffles just for you,” the waitress returned, placing the food right in front of you. The waffle did not look appetizing in the slightest. You didn’t bother looking up to say anything, instead squeezing your eyes shut and willing the nausea away. “You okay, sweetie? D’ya need anything?”

“Can we get a water and a Sprite?” Elsie intervened, calmly requesting. “And like, ASAP, if that’s doable. . .”

“Sure thing! Back in a flash!” 

You kept your eyes closed, the twirling in your stomach not going away, but not intensifying either. You were scared to talk–afraid of what might come from your mouth if you did. 

“Here,” the sweet, older lady’s voice rang through, as you heard the plastic cups hit the table. She was rushing, her voice moving fast. “Gotta go to another table, but wave me down if ya need me, sugar.”

“I think we’re good for now,” Elsie reassured. You could hear the smile in her tone. “Thank you so much.” A few seconds passed, then your sister was tapping your hand that was still laid on the table. “Sis, please take a drink from one of them.”

Keeping one hand pressed to your mouth, you tapped the wrapper off of the straw. You chose the carbonated Sprite, banking on the carbonation and natural aid of Sprite for a sensitive stomach.

As soon as the ice cold, fizzing drink hit your tongue, you felt relief. The feeling hadn’t gone away in your tummy, but you also didn’t feel like you were going to hurl at any moment anymore either. You took a few short, yet healthy, sips, eyes closing again to center yourself. 

Your eyes trailed back to hers after you sat the cup down.

“You okay?” Elsie questioned, following you with her blue eyes, which swam with concern. You nodded, then she talked again. “Do you get sick a lot?”

Reaching for the water, you took one little drink of that, finally feeling able to talk. Your stomach was simmering slowly. You pushed the plates away, needing the food away from you for the time being.

“Not hungry?” 

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “Not now. Fuckin’ orange juice,” you flipped off the offensively orange drink. Elsie snorted at you, and you grinned at her. “And to answer you, yes. I puke all of the time. Thought it was stress at first. Just throwing up because of all of my stress.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing her own food away. “You’re an idiot.” You scoffed at that, offended. “I’m just saying. You’ve never been a puker. Fevers and shit, yes. But never thrown up a whole lot. And you’ve had some terrible fucking stress in your life. . . never vomiting from any of it; just to remind you.”

“I guess I just wanted to stay ignorant,” you admitted. “And I didn’t think it was possible at all that I was pregnant.”

She hummed in understanding, then she leveled you with a stare as she took a drink of her coffee. 

“What now?” You groaned. “You fuckin’ weas–.”

“Does Jake know?”

Your stomach fell all the way to the bottom your feet. Fuck. What? How did she know?

Stupidly, you tried to reject it. Why would you try to hide it from her? You didn’t know. There was no point in trying to hide it. 

“Why would he need to know? This doesn’t concern him. He’s not the fath—.”

She practically honked with a huge laugh, blossoming from the back of her throat. You blushed, sinking back into your seat. Why would you even try to play dumb? You knew better than to do that with her. 

After wiping a little tear from below her eye, she sipped at her water. Sitting her glass down, she coughed a couple times and snorted with another giggle before continuing. “Please do not insult my intelligence like that.”

Weakly, you tried to defend yourself. “You believed me at the festival that we weren’t fucking anymore, so I just assumed–.”

“You think I believed that shit?!” She gawked at you– in disbelief that you’d thought that of her. “I just wasn’t going to push it out of you while you were so obviously in the depths of sorrow over that girl that was with him.”

Face flushing yet again, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “‘Depths of sorrow’ is dramatic.” And true, you silently agreed with her. So incredibly, stupidly true.

“And you’re pregnant with Jake’s kid,” she pushed, wanting to hear you say it yourself.

You looked up at her through your lashes, not ready to say it out loud. But definitely needing to. . . and who better than your sister to say it out loud to for the very first time?

“Jake is the baby’s father, yes,” you said plainly, looking directly in her eyes as you said it. Then, immediately peering out the window, directly to your right. “Half him, half me,” you murmured, under your breath.

You pressed your shoulder, clad in your fluffy sweater, against the chilled glass. You still felt the coldness from the brisk autumn day through the thick windows. It calmed your heart which beat frantically against your breastbone. Talking out loud about Jake being the father of your child made reality slap you in the face. You were carrying Jake’s baby. Inside your womb was half of Jake and half of you. Together. Something you’d made. . . together. 

The thought of a part of him just floating around in your uterus was honestly jarring. . . but not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. No, in fact because the baby was half of him, you’d decided you had to keep it. Jake was the reason that the baby was a necessity to this world. A piece of the first man you’d ever. . . 

You shook your head amidst the raging thoughts, deciding to cut them off right. there. That was a path you did not want to venture down. 

Dangerous territory.

Knowing the baby was his and that fact being was the sole reason you had to keep it. . .that was big enough for you to acknowledge. Huge, actually. . . You couldn’t believe you’d let yourself face that so surely and honestly. But. . . that was something you refused to tell your sister. That was one thing for you and only you to know. It felt too personal to share–belonged in your heart alone.

The mother and child you were observing just outside Waffle House were about to get you lost in thought again . . . You could spend hours appreciating a true, authentic love between a mother and her child. You’d never had it, and it was just so unique in and of itself. A relationship that held its own definition of love. A love so lovely, precious, safe. . . wholesome.

You were desperate to create that for a child. Something you hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing. And the baby in your womb deserved to feel it. . . But could you do it? Or were you too much like your mom?

Before you could fall down that depressing rabbit hole, you slowly swiveled your head back in the direction of your sister. 

Then, without much contemplation, you unloaded. Told her everything. Informed her of the situation between you and Jake, how you started feeling iffy about all of it towards the end, and then how you’d decided to cut it off due to your desire to protect him. It rushed out of your mouth, with almost no thought and you honestly didn’t have time to consider anything before it slipped from your lips and into the air between the two of you. 

Elsie was watching you, eyes attentively following your every word and movement. She looked ready to help. As always. Her eyes, the color of the ocean and just as deep and sure as the waves that enveloped it. The overwhelming calm you felt after telling her, also similar to the ocean in its ability to offer peace. . . 

What she said first was not what you were expecting. No counsel. Just humility. 

“I’m sorry for what I said about you watching that girl with Jake at the festival,” she started, tucking her hands in her lap, expression sincere. “That was callous. Not the time.”

Wrinkling your brow, you argued back, unnecessarily defensive and overwrought with emotion after spilling all of that and for the life in your belly (lovely hormones). “I’m still me, Elsie,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

She raised a brow, combatting you. “Fine. If you’re still you, then I can say this: get the fuck over yourself and just be with him,” taking a drink of her coffee, she made a face. “Room temperature coffee is absolute balls,” she looked over her shoulder, trying to connect eyes with the waitress. 

You saw the woman head your way, and immediately got the hint when Elsie held the cup out with puppy dog eyes. “You’ve got it, sweet baby.”

“Thank you,” Elsie said, her voice that of a grateful servant to the woman. 

“You, with your food and drinks that must be so hot they burn your mout–.”

“We’re not done with you. So, shut up.”

“Jesus, Elsie! I–.”

Holding a perfectly manicured hand up, black nails flashing in front of you briefly, she cut you off. “No! I don’t want to hear any more of the bullshit. You’re literally having his baby. Get over this. . . thing in your head, and just be with him. You obviously want it. And I think he does, too.”

You sighed, the breath coming fully from your lungs. It wasn’t like you didn’t want it, too. . . it was just complicated. “It’s not that easy, Elsie,” you lamented. “There are several pieces to the puzzle.”

“Liiiiike . . .?” 

“Well, for one,” you held up a finger to start the count. “He has a girlfriend now.”

“No he doesn’t,” she scrunched her face, completely disagreeing. “He’s not with any–.”

“They showed up to the party together, Elsie. The girl from the festival. And they have a past. He was groping her all night last night and she never left his side,” you repeated the events aloud, your stomach rolling at the heinous thoughts. 

“Oh, shit,” her eyes got big, blowing out a slow breath. “I didn’t even realize. Josh and I–.”

“Were roaming the room for half of the night and preoccupied for the rest of it,” you said, shivering at the deplorable thought of your friend and sister. 

“I was with you for a good chunk of it, too, bitch,” she corrected, pointing at you. 

You stuck out your lip, nodding to agree. “You’re right. . .but you were also way too distracted by Josh to notice.”

She made the same face, mirroring you. “You are not wrong,” she grinned smartly, winking suggestively. “No regrets.”

“I’m going to puke on you.”

“Oh my god, please don’t,” she gagged. And then started singing a thank you as the waitress came back with your tickets and a fresh coffee. After dumping one million half and half cups into her mug, she took a hearty sip. When she sat it down, she practically vibrated in delight. “Oh hell yeah.”

“You know Josh hates coffee,” you noted. “Prefers tea.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. We’ve had many long debates over the ridiculous fact,” she growled. “He’s a miscreant when he wants to be.”

You laughed outright. “Yes he is. Little fuckin’ gremlin.” 

The sound that roared out of her was more reminiscent of a yell than a laugh, but it became a string of snorting and giggles that you joined in on. After a few minutes of enjoying the sound of the other’s laughter, you shook your head and scratched your brow before seeing your phone light up with a notification. 

Stupidly, your tummy fluttered at the possibility of it being Jake texting you. But then you remembered that he would absolutely not be texting you in his right mind. . . that was not where you were with him right now. You weren’t sure you’d ever be there with him again. And that thought made your tummy sink as soon as it’d fluttered. 

Though, the notification on your screen was enough to bring a little grin to your face, your eyes watering with the overwhelming excitement and joy that ignited in your heart at the update from your Ovia Pregnancy app. 

Week 10: Congratulations, y/n! You’re heading into the tail end of your first trimester. Your baby is now the size of a kumquat and almost 1 ¼ inches long!

Not being able to help it, you turned your phone to Elsie so she could see the notification as well. 

She read through it, her mouth moving as she took in the words. A wide, toothy smile made its way to her face–her entire demeanor lighting up with you. Clutching both hands to her chest, her eyes were wet next time you saw them. Your own eyes filled with more tears at her reaction to it. 

“I’m so proud to be an aunt to your little kumquat baby!” She said, her voice actually quivering with emotion. 

“I’m glad you’re proud,” you responded with a sniffle, drying your undereyes with a Waffle House napkin. “I’m proud, too.”

Her smile turned close-mouthed, yet no less sincere and delighted. “You should be,” she paused, then her crying eyes dried a bit as her tone turned serious. “And Jake will be, too. I know it, babe,” she stopped, pondering a thought. “You are going to tell him, right?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer. He had to know. You wanted him too, really. “Yes.” Then, your tummy flipped. “ But I don’t know if he’ll be super excited when I do,” you shook your head. “This was not in the cards for him this year. . . I wouldn’t blame him if he rejected the idea of me being pregnant with his baby.”

“Well, he wouldn’t reject it. I can say that for certain–I’m dating his twin and I know Josh would never reject a baby,” she said, wiping at her face with her own napkin. “And, I’m going to argue the other part, too. . . it obviously was in the cards for him,” she reached a hand out towards you and you took it. “This happened for a reason, sis. A good one. And Jake will view it as such.”

“I just don’t want it to slow him down,” you squeezed her hand, looking down to where they entwined on the gray table. “I need him to keep going and chase his dream.”

She raised a brow, shook her head from side to side, once again disbelieving. “He will, y/n. He’ll keep going. Josh is– and he and I are dating?. . . What’s the difference?”

“Where do I start? Most importantly, I’m messed up in the head and I need to work on myself before I expose him to myself,” you insisted, bringing your hand back to place on your tummy. “And he and Josh are different. . .Josh has a drive that Jake doesn’t. Jake gave up his dream before and he’ll do it again if he’s allowed. And a baby is already damn near the most drastically life changing thing that could happen to a person. Could completely screw up his plans,” you sighed resolutely. It was clear to her that you were firm on this, so she sat back with open and considerate eyes to let you finish. “Best to keep things separate between us so he has one less thing that is tempting him to put himself last. A baby is enough.”

She hummed, taking it all in. After taking a moment, she gave a response. “I just have one question.”

“Yes?” You prepared yourself, raising a brow.

“What’s the difference between you and the girl?-- What’s her name anyway?”

“Maya,” ugh. Hate that name. “Her name is Maya. And she is normal where I am not.”

“O-kaaaay,” she replied, still unsure of the validity in your response. You didn’t know why she seemed so unsure. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you were jacked up. She let out a massive sigh, then continued. “Well, I don’t personally think you know her well enough to make that assumption. She could be more detrimental to him than you–.”

“Not possib–.”

“And you could be exactly what he needs,” she said, almost in finality, though it was obvious she wasn’t done when she leaned forward, her tone hard and steadfast. “You’re also not as “jacked up” as you seem to believe you are. Have you got things to heal? Yes. But are you still one of the most incredible people that has ever walked this planet–if not the most incredible? Even more so, yes,” her eyes watered again, but she sniffed the tears away to say her last piece. “I think you could very well be exactly what Jake Kiszka needs to be complete. And even though I wasn’t around for all of the intricacies of you two, I should’ve caught on. Because I do know the way that man fucking looks at you. . . and dammit if I’ve ever seen another man look at a woman the way he looks at you. . . not even Josh with me or Grandpa with Grandma.”

Your heart swelled and your cheeks grew instantly red. Your blood buzzed in your veins. . . did he really look at you like that? 

Then, selfishly, you wondered if anyone else had noticed like Elsie had. . . like Josh. Fuck. Did he see how Jake looked at you? Had he already presumed things about you and Jake based on how his twin apparently, blatantly, ogled you? And then you realized, yet again, how you would have to obviously tell Josh of the baby. . . oh god; how would he react?

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need anyone to–.”

“To know?” She squeaked a giggle. “I’m sorry, babe. . . but I think your cover’s about to be totally blown within the next nine months.”

You groaned, placing your forehead in your hand as you blew your hair away from your face. “How will Josh react?” You moaned, halfway to yourself and halfway to her. 

“What?” 

You snapped up. “How in the hell is Josh going to react?!” You anxiously quizzed her, eyes wild. “He is already going to be hurt that I kept it from him. And then there’s the reason I kept it from him in the first place. . .,” you felt tears well in your throat right before you nearly slammed your head on your crossed arms, which laid against the table, dramatically. 

Okay, these hormones can fuck right off. 

“Why’s that, sissy?” She carefully inquired, tone soft, not judging your reaction the way you internally were. “Remind me again.”

You moaned, raising your head and willing the tears away. “He made it so incredibly clear to me how Jake didn’t need another woman infiltrating his life and distracting him. And how Jake needed this time to discover himself for the first time in his life. . . and I’ve completely ignored that desire of his,” a lone tear slipped from your ducts. “I’ve betrayed him. Selfishly.”

Letting the words sit in the air between you, she waited a couple of beats before inserting her two cents. “When does Jake finally get what he wants?”

You wrinkled a brow, tears completely dissipating out of curiosity for her next words.

“I mean. . .” she started, making a thoughtful smacking sound with her mouth. “Josh thinks he can call the shots. You think you can just decide to not let yourself ruin his life? Like, what the hell, first of all? And second of all. . . what if he doesn’t care about any of that shit and just wants you? Did you ever take a second to consider that?”

“Yes, Elsie,” you growled, defensive once again. “And that’s why I’m keeping the ball in my court. I’m protecting him. And that was Josh’s intent, too.”

“I don’t know where you two get off acting like Jake isn’t a grown ass man who can make his own decisions. . .,” she trailed off, flashing an irritated look out the window. 

You did not want to get into this right now. The conversation was trailing much further than you fucking wanted. Your nerves were practically electrifying you and your head felt heavy.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Elsie,” you shortly bit out at her. She snapped her head back at you, her eyes still on fire. You stayed firm. “I’m done talking about all of that shit,” your hands laid safely on your lower, swelling tummy. “I have bigger things to consider now,” after glancing down at your stomach, you hit her with another stern glare. “So drop it.”

Her chest was heaving. 

You were not sure what was happening; why was she suddenly so “Team Jake”? When had that happened? And again, why? 

“Fine,” she conceded, sniffing resolutely once and then went to sip her coffee. Which, by the look on her face, was cold again. “Yuck. Can we bust this joint and go to Starbs? I need the sweet stuff.”

You sighed with relief at the change in subject. “Yes,” you smiled. “Let’s.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was just you and your sister in the open apartment, which was now completely cleaned from last night’s festivities due to your obsessive-compulsive cleaning. Though, you couldn’t help but notice when you’d come back from breakfast, Jake had been gone and the apartment looked much better than when you’d left with Elsie. It felt nice that he cared for the apartment, too–enough to try to keep it clean. 

You trained your thoughts on Elsie, as she waited at the door to leave, bags completely packed, awaiting her Uber to the airport (you were, unfortunately, so suddenly fucking tired that you had decided you weren’t fit to drive her). 

You didn’t want to let her go. She was your one person who knew now, and no matter how much she challenged your stance on Jake, she was still your sister and your person and you needed her with you during this time. . .

“Can you not just stay for a couple more days?” You tried once more, knowing better than to ask, as she’d repeated the words more than once now. “Let them know your sister is having an existential crisis and needs you?”

She huffed with a grin, rolling her eyes. “You are literally fine,” she reassured, reaching a hand out to hold your arm. But instead of letting it stop there, you fell into it and let yourself fall into her–let yourself wrap both of your arms around her shoulders, hugging yourself tightly to her. 

“Please don’t leave,” you moaned, your voice so meek it was straight up depressing. “I need you.”

She hugged you back, dropped her duffel off her shoulder in the process of embracing you. “I always need you, sissy,” she agreed. “But I’m just a FaceTime or text away,” she assured you, combing her hands through your wet hair, having taken a shower while she’d been gone saying her goodbyes to Josh. “I’m here. And you have people here. You just need to let. them. in.”

“I know. . .,” you sighed hotly into her natural curls. “I’m just so scared to tell Jo–.”

“I’m tired of hearing that, babe,” she asserted firmly. “Because the last person you need to be scared to tell is Joshua,” she stated, leaving no room for argument, right in your ear. “And if you think about it, you know him well enough to fucking know that. So get out of your maze of thoughts and know the truth.”

She was right. . . Truly, you knew she was. You knew his heart. But. . . “How will I even. . .?” 

Pulling away from you, she kept her hands wrapped around your forearms, keeping a caring hold on you. Keeping you near. “I’ve actually been thinking about this, like, all day. . . but the first thing that came to my mind is what I keep going back to.”

You waited for more, but she didn’t continue her thought. Impatient, you asked. “Which is. . .?”

“Invite him to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe your. . .first?” she offered, questioning the last part. But sounded completely sure of her idea. “It’s the perfect way to break it to him. And. . .if I’m correct, I’m assuming you haven’t had one yet since you just decided to keep it?”

“Yeah. . . no appointment yet. So, I could. . .ugh,” you answered. “But– why? How–? Will he–?”

“It’s the ideal situation because he will feel like he’s being helpful and loving. He’ll be able to be there for you. He’ll feel needed and involved and that is literally all Josh wants in general in life, so. . .”

“It’s perfect,” you weakly agreed. It really was. You couldn’t deny it.

“Yes, it is,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her duffel bag back over her shoulder. “I came up with it.”

You scoffed. “Okay, now. Don’t get a big fuckin’ head, loser.”

“Bitch,” she bit back, shoving your shoulder. 

Rubbing your shoulder in faux pain, you gave her a pitiful expression. “Elsie. I am with child, you need to be careful with me now.”

Bursting with a chuckle, straight from her chest, she shoved your other shoulder. “I’m not touching the damn stomach, so I’m good.” 

You shoved her back, dropping the act and giggling with her. “You right, you right,” you said. Then, your thoughts came back to the task at hand. The baby that was squirming around in you. “I’m still scared.”

“That’s another perfect aspect of telling him in that scenario though,” she added, assuring you with her opinion. “You can’t back out. You’ll have to tell him if he meets you at the doctor’s office or takes you there or whatever the hell he does. . . you’ll have no choice but to tell him before you go in. And he’ll just have to take it,” she said, her plan sounding, admittedly, concrete. “He will survive,” she dropped her hands from your arms and looped her belt bag around her chest before placing a hand delicately to your cheek. “I promise he’ll survive.”

Just then, her phone dinged, indicating her Uber had arrived. So, with many “I love you’s” and a few curse words, you were following her down the stairs, then hugging her tightly once more outside of her awaiting Uber. 

And as you watched her leave the parking lot, the tears started to flow. So. many. tears. Steady, hard, relentless weeping. . . 

The emotions were obviously true, yes, but the hormones–and your current, lonely headspace– were amplifying the already-existing emotions of her leaving to an incredibly irritating degree.

But before you could lose yourself in them any more, you heard a door to a car shut to your left, along with a laugh you knew all too well. Jake was home. 

And if you didn’t move, he was going to see you as a hysterical mess and you did not want his fucking pity right now. Last thing you needed. And worse, you also didn’t want to see his expression, for the chance it might be hard and uncaring. You also didn’t want to possibly see a certain woman arrive with him. 

You were sure she was with him. The feminine giggle you heard accompanying his endearing chuckles could be no one else.

So, instead of looking in his direction, you turned quickly on your heel and speed-walked up the stairs, a hand on your tummy to avoid any hurt to the kumquat baby. 

As soon as your back hit the closed door, you breathed a sigh, which turned into a long yawn. The kind that made you shiver with a sudden, urgent desire to sleep. You didn’t have to work today, you’d canceled study plans. . . So suddenly, you felt abundantly free and a nap sounded like the perfect remedy to the overwhelming emotions of your day.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Monday came and went before you even knew it was happening. As did Tuesday. As did Wednesday. And when Thursday came around, you had your Modern Poetry elective. The one class you had with someone you knew relatively well. 

You hadn’t made it a priority to make tons of friends while in school to get your degree–you’d had Josh and Elsie, and eventually Sammy and Danny. . .and that had been enough. 

But, when Theo had popped back up into your life, anytime you saw him in a class, it really did feel nice to be around someone familiar at school. Even though he was on the more annoying side, he was still a good confidant.

And especially with the massive course load this semester, having someone you knew around was helpful. Good for feeling less alone. He was somebody who was going through school with you; he got the overwhelming amount of pressure from school, too. He felt the senioritis, too. . . but, his case was slightly different. 

He was ready to be done with school so he could pursue this career he longed to have in writing, while you were just ready to be done. 

Initially, when you had started the semester, you were just ready to be out of Pratt because you felt like you were wasting your time on a degree you’d lost passion for (save for your minor in media studies which gave you the occasional music-related course).

Now you weren’t sure why you were ready to be done. What made you feel more anxious to put Pratt in the past now? Was it the burning desire to be done with a passionless major? Or did the life in your tummy have something to do with it? The thought of the baby you held inside honestly got your blood pumping more excitedly in your veins than a college degree ever could. 

You really only cared about ascertaining a healthy baby– no longer caring much for a piece of paper saying you had studied writing, uselessly, for four long years. 

But you had to make it through school. If not for you, for your baby. You didn’t have much longer left, and you owed it to that child to see this through. You had to find some drive though. So, in came Theo to help with that. He was great at encouraging others, and that was exactly what you needed while trudging through the sixteen hours of classes you’d enrolled in this semester. 

When you were getting up to leave for class that afternoon, you had your mind set on a big jar of baby pickles (stereotypical pregnant woman, much?). You were ready to get off campus and to the nearest grocery store for the deliciously tangy food. 

Before you could leave your two-person table, though, a hand came out to grab your arm as a way of stopping you. If you had acted on impulse, you would have whined and stomped your foot in protest at being kept from satisfying your pickle craving. 

But you didn’t act like a petulant child. Instead, you turned around, eyes opened and ready for whatever was needed from you. 

And when you looked behind your shoulder, Theo was there, a head or so above you, smiling and waiting for a response. 

“Yes?” You asked, semi-irritatedly, semi-sweetly. “What’s up?”

He just stared a little while longer, blinking rapidly before shaking his head. His blonde hair had grown out a bit and shook with the movement, eyes twinkling just enough, making your heart thump a little harder in your chest. 

Why in the hell? 

“I meant to ask you Tuesday, but you were gone before I could,” he started, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder. He shifted on his feet a little before peering curiously into your eyes. “Are you okay? I missed seeing you for our usual Sunday study time. . .”

You swallowed, slightly grumpy that he felt the need to pry. 

He’s just showing he cares, y/n, the angelic voice said, which now stopped by more occasionally than the negative one. 

Not wanting to tell him anything too personal (God, no), you went with the bare minimum. “A friend hosted a Halloween party at my place on Saturday, and my sister was actually in town for it,” you divulged, wrapping your fists tighter around the straps of your backpack. Please let me leave after this. “So I hung out with her yesterday while she was still in town.”

Not the whole truth, but not so much dishonesty to  me feel bad.

“Oh!” He said, a light hearted laugh accompanying his tone. “Cool. I remember from high school how close you two were.”

I remember how much she didn’t like you, you thought, feeling uneasy at past-Elsie’s opinion of the guy.

Was he really that bad though? He’d been great for you during high school. Even though it had only been a year of time with him, he had still been a decent person to have around during those formative years of your life. He had been considerate, kind, helpful. . . the only negative things you could remember were the few times he’d try to get you to calm down on unnecessary occasions. He could be occasionally judgmental, but wasn’t everyone to an extent?

And maybe you and Elsie had only been your average, overly sensitive high school girls and had thought he was worse than he actually was.

Because at this moment, all you could see were the green flecks in his blue eyes and how they caught the sun that shone in from the window behind you, and onto his pale face. The way he waited earnestly to hear your response made you feel special and valuable to him at this moment and what woman didn’t like that?

“Yeah,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear before folding your hands over your chest. Aaand, wincing, you quickly moved them away. Your boobs were especially tender with the extra pressure against them. Every day they seemed to get more sensitive to the touch, feeling heavier–fuller. “We’re still that close. Probably closer now, actually. After living together, and then her job forcing her to be far away often. . .,” you trailed off, sad at the thought of her being so far away all the damn time. “We’re forced to communicate way more than we ever have before.”

He nodded, winking at you. And although he was cute, you didn’t feel anything at the wink, really. It didn’t swirl your tummy with nerves like it would with someone. . .else. You chalked it up to the craving that was still distracting you, making your tummy growl. 

He cleared his throat before he tucked one hand in a jeans pocket and one tighter around the strap of his bag. “Intentional is the word,” he added with another wink, seeming to understand to a degree. But you caught the aggravating ‘know-it-all’ attitude. Tipping his head, he looked at you with smiling eyes. “You okay?” He motioned with his hand at your neck-chest region.

Your brow furrowed, confused. Defenses were instantly raised and you took a step back, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “Yes?” You retorted, tilting your head to challenge him. “Why?”

“Just saw you flinch and all,” he said, in wonder at your tone. When he spoke next, he no longer seemed understanding, only misunderstanding. “Nothing big. Don’t worry,” he held his hands out, as if calming a tiger. 

You felt stupid for overreacting, so you covered your tracks with a forced giggle, masking the situation the best you could with a straight-up (ironic) lie. “Just a certain time of the month,” you explained extremely falsely. “Overly reactive to everything right now.” That was true. 

“Oh,” he pointed a finger at you, pretending to get it. “Makes sense.”

Okay, you thought, squinting at him as he looked to the side with a sort of confidence. Maybe Elsie had been onto something. . . 

But then he peered down at you again with his sparkly eyes and shaggy, naturally blonde hair.  It made you feel a little weak for the guy, even with him irritating you.

But why was he irritating you, exactly? Maybe your emotions were controlling you a little too much– getting too easily offended thanks to the hormones. . . Perhaps he was just acting like a normal human, while you were the one who wasn't reacting like a normal human.

Your stomach was fucking growling though. . .Theo didn’t matter worth fuck at that moment. What did matter was how badly your body was craving eating for two. If you didn’t eat soon, you were afraid you would faint from lack of sustenance (you definitely wouldn’t, but there were the over-reactive feelings again). 

You started backing up, and made it just next to the table when you were saying your next words. “I’m going to go ahead and get out of her–.”

“Wait!”

Having just turned on your heel, your face was hidden from view, and you were able to roll your eyes when you heard him. You weren’t going to stop though. He could follow you to the parking lot. You were hungry and grouchy and ready to eat an entire jar of pickles before crashing hard against your sheets. Before you had to show up at the B&G for the evening shift.

“Follow me,” you said, short, only looking over your shoulder at him briefly before continuing your trek. But please don’t talk for long. 

You were just outside North Hall when you decided to stop, so you wouldn’t have to fear him stalling you at your car.

“What’s up?” You asked, playing cool despite your desire to grumble. 

“I actually– I just thought–,” he laughed, seemingly at himself. He scratched behind his ear. Then he stood up straight, determined after tucking both hands into his front pockets and clearing his throat for the second time that day. You noticed his jeans, dark wash, skinny, and complimenting his firm thighs. “I wanted to ask you to hang out with me sometime– outside of here.”

Seriously? He was stopping your pickle eating for this?

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, confused. “We do hang out,” you grasped tightly to the straps of your backpack again, anxious to get food. Already tired of him. “Every Sunday.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, pausing. Then he grinned in a way you assumed he thought was cute. But all it really did was make your eyes hurt from the inability to roll, out of courtesy for him. He continued, taking a step closer. Your hands did start perspiring and your heart sped up positively at his proximity. “But I thought maybe we could do something not related to school?”

You opened your mouth to reject it–you were not interested. For many reasons. The biggest being the baby in your belly. . .

Although, the more you pondered the baby, you realized more than that, you were hesitant because of his or her father.

Not the child, but Jake. The man that was ever-present in your mind– with his beautiful, brunette hair, eyes the color of understanding, easing you in the most complex situations. . . and the heart that’d made the world suddenly make sense. . . (Which still scared the hell out of you, by the way.)

But. . .as the thoughts spiraled, it all started to have the opposite effect. Made you want to agree.

So, you did.

You said yes to hanging out with Theo. Because, as soon as that thought process had started derailing, you knew it was best to agree. The idea of hanging out with him seemed like a great distraction from Jake. A much needed one.

What you had with Jake was nothing and it was in the past. For a reason. 

After you watched him smile wide and say he’d text you, he went to join a heap of Pratt’s fraternity boys. You could only hope that maybe getting out there and hanging out with someone else would get your mind off of Jake. 

You did not want it going further than a few dates with Theo. Just a little time with Theo would surely be all it took to get your headspace cleared and make it easier to navigate life. 

The repercussions to its ending were literally nothing. You’d switch seats in class and force yourself through school with the occasional encouragement from Elsie. Theo was not a necessary addition to your life long-term, but you figured he could help you short-term, while also creating long lasting benefits.

Surely you could divert your thoughts from Jake. Think of the child first, and put its father on the backburner as you weaved through this next chapter in your life. . . No matter how badly you wanted him with you through all of it, experiencing it all first hand with you, it was the wiser decision to keep things separate. 

And, as an additional help, Theo would make it obvious to Jake that you were willing to keep your life separate. 

So, when you did eventually tell Jake (dear fucking God), there would be an additional party that emphasized you’d moved on and all that mattered now was the baby. 

Not the two of you. That ship needed to sail. 

Even though the thought made your stomach hurt like hell and tears well in your eyes as you pulled into the nearest Trader Joe’s for pickles. . . you knew it was the truth.

-🌼🌼🌼-

That evening, you took a longer route to work, choosing to listen to a podcast you’d found. 

Having listened to the first episode on the way to school that morning, you decided to fill your cup with another episode on the way to work. 

It was a magnificent podcast that was all about the ‘ins and outs’ of pregnancy, being a new mother, and how to grow mentally and emotionally during such a unique time.

The second episode was going just as well as the first until you heard one of the moderators’ voices get low and forlorn. 

“You know ladies. . . the first time I got pregnant is planted firmer in my memory than any of my other pregnancies,” she said, sighing heavily. 

“Oh, yeah, Jen,” another moderator said, voice growing dim with Jen’s, apparently (you were still getting accustomed to their names). “I bet, babe. . . The ones that are lost are the ones that stick so close it fuckin’ hurts and heals at the same time. . .”

“Agreed, Tally,” the third—and last—speaker on the podcast chimed in. “I’ll touch on my story after Jen.” 

“Thanks, Molly,” Jen’s voice rang through your speakers again. “Yeah, it’s just a different feeling when they’re there and then suddenly they’re not. . . When you imagine holding them in your arms for God knows how long and then it suddenly becomes impossible to do so,” Jen sniffed, and just as she did, you felt a tear hit your own cheek. God, you were hurting with her. “Every woman is different, but I just hang onto my loss like nothing else. And not necessarily in a bad way— just in an attempt to sort of keep the baby here with me— Give her the life she never got to fully live.”

Dammit, the tears wouldn’t let up. They were trailing down your cheeks steadily. When you got to the next stop light, you had to grab a napkin from your glovebox to blot at your cheeks, already marked with black streaks of mascara. Thankfully you could still wipe them up easily, not dried to your skin quite yet. But you knew the crying wouldn’t be letting up soon. Your emotions had been triggered and you would be seeing this sadness through. (Hello, pregnancy hormones.) 

You took turns holding the napkin under each eye, making sure to catch the tears as they continued. 

“I’m right there with you, Jenny,” a voice you now recognized as Molly’s said. “Even though my stories are a little different.”

Stories? 

God. You kept your eyes on the road as you popped open the glovebox once more, grabbing a fistful of left-over restaurant napkins. 

Sitting them on top of your legging-clad thighs, right where you could reach them, you took a right turn towards the B&G. 

“I’m sure we have listeners who will relate to all of these stories,” Tally interjected, sniffing. “Both of you girls.”

“I hope we’re able to help someone,” Jen responded, voice still thick, but not so bad as before. 

You heard a sigh before Molly started speaking again. “The first time I carried was very similar to Jenny’s. Lost the baby. Early on. The worst loss I’ve ever experienced—I will never understand why we lose them,” her voice shook with sadness. But, it soon transitioned to a hot flash of irate frustration when she spoke next. “I will also never understand the people who invalidate our experiences just because they were lost in the womb or lost as little tiny babies. . . Just because they weren’t full grown people, outside of the womb, when it happened. . . doesn’t make it hurt any less. You have just as much to mourn for the life they completely lost.” And just as soon as she was firm, her voice was soft again. “The life we lost before it was time.”

The other two agreed, voices low out of respect for the moment. 

“Then there was my second. . .,” she blew out a breath, as if preparing. She gave a half-laugh. “Strange occurrence. . .”

“But it happens!” One of the other two chimed in. 

“Sure as hell does,” Molly said. “The second time I carried, I had a hysterical pregnancy– a case that only 6 women in 22,000 experience. . .”

“I can’t imagine. . .,” Tally breathed a sigh out. “Your body, tricking you like that.”

“Yeah, and it felt completely real– like everything you’d expect,” she replied, thoughtful. “Like everything I experienced with the one I’d lost before. . . And, God, it was so incredibly hard to get through once I found out what my body had done to me. . . I just wanted a healthy baby–especially after the loss. I was still hurting badly from losing the first when it happened. Almost like my body was playing tricks on me just to see how far I could stretch mentally and emotionally,” she laughed under her breath, in spite of it all. 

“So fucking cruel, babe. . .”

But you weren’t focusing hard enough to know who was talking anymore. You’d caught on to the stories they’d told and now you were over analyzing your situation. . . Questioning everything. . . Was this real? Was there a baby there? Were you having a hysterical pregnancy? Was your body playing tricks on you? 

Or, had you been pregnant, and had now lost the baby like those women had? Were you still carrying the life you’d started planning around? The little life you were becoming more and more attached to by the day?

Had you ever been carrying it? 

As you pulled into work, you put one shaking hand on your rounded lower belly.

- 🌼🌼🌼-

Suffice to say, your entire evening shift was spent in over-contemplation and searching miscarriages, hysterical pregnancies, and semi-local OBGYN’s during the lull of customers. 

As you’d searched online for a clinic, you were not looking for places too close, as you didn’t want God and everybody seeing you enter the clinic on a regular basis (if you, in fact, were to find out you were carrying a tiny little bean-baby). You sure as hell didn’t need anyone to start questioning you before you were ready to offer up answers. 

Once you finally left your longest shift ever, you drove home in deep thought and drowning silence. 

Your research over miscarriages and hysterical pregnancies had done you very little good. They’d actually done you no good at all, if you were being honest. Everything you’d read made you question a lot.

Because, everything that could possibly reassure you was also possible in a hysterical pregnancy or a miscarriage.

One: your growing tummy (which could continue growing in both of the sad, unwanted instances). Two: your hurting breasts (which could still hurt in both sad, unwanted instances). And three: your nausea (which could still occur in both sad, unwanted instances).

Once at home, you took a hot second getting ready for bed— lost in thought, you decided to try to tiring yourself with a bath, complete with lavender scented bath salts and bubbles. Once you were finally in bed, cozy in your softest pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, you tried so hard to force yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to have to wait any longer to call the nice little clinic you’d found. 

And you sure as hell weren’t hungry. Didn’t want to eat with your stomach spinning with so many nerves.

And, the sooner you fell asleep, the sooner you could call the clinic and schedule an appointment. 

- 🌼🌼🌼-

But, after laying there for what felt like hours– the sounds of calming ocean waves playing through your phone and everything– you were still awake. 

You were drowning in all of the thoughts. Drown-ing. 

One that was flashing brightly at the front of your mind was why you even cared so much. And, the more you thought about it, tossing and turning, you realized you’d found the most unique, fulfilling form of reassurance in carrying the child. You wanted this baby. It had happened without you even meaning it to. . . but you wanted this baby so. fucking. badly. You’d tried damn hard not to want the little thing, but now that you’d spent so much time pondering it and holding your tummy? There was no question about any of it. You just wanted your baby and you couldn’t figure out how to explain it.

After rolling around far too much in bed, you realized you still hadn’t heard the telling sounds of Jake coming home. So, you decided to venture out into the living room to let a TV show distract you. Hopefully distract you enough to go to sleep. Pillow, Stanley, and phone in hand, you grabbed the fluffiest blanket from your blanket basket and nestled into your couch. 

Just as you’d turned the TV to Friends–wanting to feel closer to Elsie, but not feeling brave enough to talk to her whilst already being so emotional–, you heard the sound of a key jingling in the locked doorknob. And then the door was opening and you were looking behind you at the sound— for God knows what reason.

Then he was all you saw.

Jake.

Clad in the most handsome black, felt peacoat, the top of his head hidden by a black beanie. . . the chilly evening’s attire suited him so well that it brought a ridiculous tear to your eye. 

So devastatingly handsome and not at all mine, your thoughts became enveloped with storm clouds.

Thankfully he didn’t see you staring, as he seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact as he went about setting his keys in the bowl and taking his coat off to hang it on the rack by the door. And, as his actions cemented your thoughts, your eyes became wetter, a tear falling down your cheek for this stupid ass, cruel reality that you’d created. Even if you had done it for a good reason—and you had—it still sucked big ass. 

But, just as soon as your eyes were growing teary, your heart was beating erratically in your chest. The sight of the soft, tanned skin between the opened lapels of his shirt— exposed after taking off the coat. And the silver necklaces that clanged against his bare chest were the same he’d worn for Halloween. . . Your mouth watered as you observed the way they fell between his pecs which rose and fell with balanced breaths. . . 

Seriously, fuck these hormones.

Before you could get lost in the roundness of his ass through his jeans, he turned to the counter once more. You flipped back to your original spot on the couch. You decided to 

feign any knowledge of him being home, curling into a little ball on the couch and closing your eyes to fake sleep. 

When you heard him make a stop at his bedroom and then heard the bathroom door click shut, you stayed wrapped in your cocoon on the couch. And before too long, you felt yourself fading to black, one final tear slipping past your closed lids as Rachel and Ross argued over being on a break.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Initially, you weren’t sure what it was that brought you back from such a deep slumber. But, once you heard him, you knew. The deep, raspy laugh that was slightly muffled through you gaining consciousness. 

Why was he in the living room? Was he? Was this your imagination? A taunting dream?

You cracked an eye open the slightest bit to allow some adjustment to the light you’d shut your eyes to. But. . . There was no overhead light. It was off. The room would’ve been pitch black, save for your standing lamp’s yellow glow and the blue light from your TV. 

More importantly, the warning feeling of a crick in your neck was suddenly catching your attention. So, without worrying about your company, you quickly sat up to attempt getting more comfortable. You didn’t want to feel awkward around him, but you also didn’t want to deal with a hitch in your neck or a migraine in the morning. 

The loud yawn that escaped you once you’d sat up couldn’t be helped. You were slightly embarrassed at the obnoxiously loud noise that emitted from your mouth as you stretched. Blushing, you glanced over at your fellow living room occupant to see if he’d even noticed. 

And, of course, he had. 

He was staring at you—but. . . not judgmentally. Not at all. In fact, his eyes held the natural, reassuring lightness that occupied your sweetest recent memories. And the small grin on his face. . . was shocking, to say the least. 

Why was he acting so okay with you? He’d been so distant recently. . .

You knit your eyebrows together, hyper aware of his presence and needing answers as to why he had decided to sit next to you. 

“What are you doing here?” You clipped, tone sharp. You brought your blanket all the way up to your chin and around your shoulders, as a way to protect yourself from the (obviously) harmless man. 

Although, you instantly regretted it as his expression became apprehensive rather than open like seconds before. 

Why do you have to go and ruin everything, y/n? 

He leaned back, his eyebrows furrowed as he balanced a bowl of (. . . macaroni and cheese? Fuck, that looked good.) on his knee, holding onto it with one hand. “I live here, y/n.”

And yet another memory was flashing back to you from the night you got high. . . his breath, hot on your neck, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he said similar words then– your skin flaming now, too. Just the sound of his voice could elicit the most from you. Fuck your pregnant feelings.

Or were they just feelings? The fear came rushing back the moment you thought yourself pregnant. . . was there a baby in there? God, fuck. . . you really didn’t want to sit in this train of thought again. 

You figured you might as well use your company to distract you. . . .You missed talking to him anyways–missed it so damn bad. 

But your tummy interrupted you. The growl that emitted from it was fucking humiliating, honestly, but it had happened. And after eyeing you curiously for a minute, Jake’s lips turned up with a one breathy laugh, his beautiful pearly whites on full display. God, he was handsome.

“You hungry?” He questioned, lifting his mac and cheese. “I made more of this. It’s just the shit Kraft, but it still hits the spot.”

Nodding, you went to hesitantly get up to get some. You really didn’t want to move from under the security of your warm, cozy blanket. 

“No, just wait here,” he insisted, standing. His pajama pants were your favorites (the ones he didn’t normally wear underwear with). But you did not watch his crotch for movement. Your eyes were just staring at the wrong place at the wrong time. Really. “I have to wash my bowl anyway. I’ll put the rest in a bowl for you while I’m up.” 

Again, why was he being so fucking nice? But you weren’t about to disagree. You were comfy and hungry and he was offering. It felt like old times and you felt like being momentarily delusional.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed, your eyes shifted, unsure to his face. But he was moving before you could look at him. Back to the kitchen. After a few moments, he was back, handing you a little white bowl with a spoon. The scrumptious, cheesy noodles made your eyes light up. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, responding as though elsewhere. This was weird and you hated how it all felt. But he kept talking, filling the air as he sat a beer on the end table beside him, before sitting back down in the chair. “I had to get a beer anyway. Long day with the guys and May–,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shutting briefly as he shook his head.

Fuck. Thanks, Jake, you thought, your eyes on the verge of welling with tears. The moments of silence, hanging in the air, closing in around you. Not fucking now, hormones.

All you wanted to do was ask why it had been a long day. Get more information that might hurt you. Why did you do that to yourself? 

Though, before you could say anything, he continued. Awkwardly, his eyes flashing momentarily to the TV to reset as he spoke. “Long day. I should’ve asked if you wanted one.”

Your cheeks heated. . . little did he know. “I’m good,” you mumbled, looking down at your bowl. Stomach sinking with your thoughts from earlier, you decided to eat before you lost your appetite again. Not the time to be sad. “Thanks though.”

The next few minutes went by in a silence you wanted to stab with a fucking knife. It was seriously unpleasant and sucked ass. After you both laughed at a certain thing Joey said, you figured you might as well try to keep some sort of conversation going. Because, god, you missed him. 

“I meant in here, by the way,” you motioned with your head to the space around you, mouth full. (Ladylike.) 

His brow raised as he looked from the screen to you, setting his gaze on you. “What are you–?”

“My question. Why you were here,” you embarrassingly restated, hearing how it must’ve sounded. “In the living room. With me. Why you were in here, in the living room, with me, of all places.”

He sat further back, but this time going to sit in the armchair comfortably. His feet propped up on the ottoman across from him. “Well,” he covered his mouth, coughing briefly into his fist. “To be fair– you were sleeping when I came to sit down in here.” 

Rather than being unnecessarily hurt over him only wanting to be in the same room as a sleeping version of you, you let yourself give in to the temptation and take advantage of him being distracted by his next task. You missed everything about him. . . even such a simple thing as watching him move.

Pathetic. And, because your mind hated you, it felt like you were watching him move in slow motion.

You watched in a daze as he leaned over to the tall lamp’s attached table, his self-cut gray t-shirt rising up at his hips to show his firm abdomen flex with the stretch. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to watch someone reach for a fucking beer bottle. But, the sight that greeted you next was worse than seeing his side peeking from his shirt. What you saw next were his full, pink lips, wrapping just right around the glass top of his beer bottle as he took a generous sip of his Miller Lite. You admired, mouth open as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each gulp of the beer. 

But when he went to repeat his action of leaning over the chair to set the bottle back, you decided to look away so as to save yourself from the torture (or, from the possibility of being caught). You took a bite of the mac and cheese, growing cold in your bowl.

Your heart was already hammering much too erratically from glimpsing these ridiculously mundane motions. . . fuck it all. The heat from being so near to him and watching him settled from your head all the way to the pit of your tummy. You swallowed down your bite thickly.

Your tummy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, awkwardly – you just wanted to have a conversation to get your mind off things. Problem was, you didn’t know where to necessarily start with him these days. . . Work? The band? Maya? God, no. . . gag.

Lucky for you, he took the initiative before you had much longer to overthink it. “I’m glad you woke up, though.” He pulled at his plaid pajama bottoms as he scooted up again, going back to get comfortable on the ottoman. Sitting with his legs spread (dammit), he balanced his elbows on his knees as he reached for his phone in his pocket. “I actually wanted to run something past you.”

God, please don’t say you found a place and you’re moving out. . . you thought, suddenly downcast and dreading what he was about to say. Or that you’re moving out to live with her.

You swallowed the thickness in your throat, trying to alleviate the unwarranted nerves before responding. Dispelling them with food, you took one more bite before swallowing it to talk. “And what’s that?” 

So what if he wanted to move out? He damn well could. He surely had the money and you two weren’t involved. 

He scrolled for a few more moments, your heart thump-thump-thumping without relenting. . . And finally, he found what he was looking for and before you had time to prepare, his eyes were sinking into yours earnestly. 

God. . . what is he about to sa–?

“I found a place for you to get therapy,” he stated, tone soft and careful. 

Therapy? Safe to say you were not expecting those words. 

And rather than being nervous, your emotions shifted to defensiveness. Where did he get off looking into that for you? Why was he . . .? Was he talking about the promise he’d made in his bed? That same night you’d panicked at your grandparents’? He’d remembered to do that? Why did he even care, still? You didn’t deserve for him to care– didn’t want him to care. It felt uncomfortable. 

“Why?” You sharply asked, holding your bowl in stiff hands on your lap. 

He leveled you with a look that said ‘cut it out.’ Did he really know where your thoughts were trailing? Was he still that in tune with you? Surely not. He was probably just irritated with your tone of voice. “I told you I would look for you, so I’ve been keeping up my end of the deal. I’ve actually asked a few clients if they knew of any nearby therapists worth their salt,” he peeked back at his phone, scrolling on it when he spoke next. “And there are actually quite a few good ones in the area.”

Your heart still beat harshly in your chest as you felt your skin heat with rage. You set your bowl down on the coffee table. And, the blanket, suddenly suffocating you, was flung off without a thought. “So, what is this? Is this you saying I’m a fucking loony, Jake? I’m sure you’ve been desperate as fucking hell to get me help because you think I’m such a nutcase,” you spit. You sounded dramatic (and, admittedly, like a deranged woman). You knew that. If you were thinking sensibly, you’d know he didn’t believe those things. . . but you were embarrassed that he’d been thinking so hard about this. It hurt your feelings that he thought you needed help that badly. “I’m just so broken and damaged and insane that you’ve decided you need to get a damn shrink to fix me.” Your lap was a sudden magnet for your eyes, your hands entangled on your pajama bottoms. Now, the hot teardrop that hit your interlocked hands was not expected and you swiftly swiped at your cheek. “Thanks for thinking so long and hard and asking God and everybody to find the most qualified person to psychoanalyze the shit out of me,” you sniffled, a couple more tears falling before you willed them away and looked in his eyes. “Thank you so much, Jake.”

But he wasn’t flustered. . . no, he actually sat there and took it. The brow that had raised on his face as you spoke was the only indicator that he’d heard you. 

The emotions you were experiencing were big and uncalled for. . . but, you were stressed. Over a lot of things. Doubting a lot of things. Your life seemed like one humongous question mark and you were sleepy as fuck and it was all just catching the fuck up with you. 

He cleared his throat, glancing once more at his phone before setting it on the arm of the chair. A tiny smirk ghosted briefly over his lips before they were set in a flat line again as he spoke next. His eyes stayed trained on his own hands, now clasped as well. “Y/n. . . Please. You know I don’t fuckin’ think those things,” he tried quietly, slightly testy, but not harsh. Then his irises found yours once more, making your heart rate speed up. You did know that. . . You knew better. He was right. “You agreed to this. I wouldn’t have made a point to look into this if you hadn’t okayed it,” he stretched his hands out and then combed them through his long, chestnut locks. 

His jaw flexed and he eyed you once more, digging into the heart of this before going any deeper. “I don’t want to force it on you. I won’t go any further in this conversation if you don’t want it. This is your decision. You know I looked into therapists. That’s it. You choose where you want this to go and then I’ll either leave you alone or tell you what I found out.”

You felt bit by bit of your current guard break down as you slowly relented. Because, well, you did want to know what he’d found out. Absentmindedly, you glanced down at where you’d subconsciously placed your hands over your stomach. It was habit at this point. That one reason underneath your fingertips was pushing you to know what he’d come to know. If you were, in fact, with child, you were desperate to start therapy. Yeah, sure, you wanted to get help for your sake. . . but more-so the child’s sake. Because, honestly, if you were not with child, you weren’t really sure if you’d want to push yourself to do that– go through all of those intense measures and changes and emotions that you knew only therapy could bring.

There was a ginormous sneaking, sinking suspicion in your gut. The one that was telling you there was a helluva lot more simmering, boiling beneath the surface than you knew. There had to be. For all the blaming you’d put on Jake just now, you knew you were a basket case. And there were some good fucking reasons behind it that you had to get to the bottom of. 

You had to do it for your child. And, on the off chance that your worst fears would come to light and you weren’t actually pregnant, it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear Jake out. Listen to what he’d found. 

You mumbled your next words. “Do you think I need fixing?” Dear God–where had that vulnerability come from? Did you want to know his answer?

Jake brought a thumb and forefinger up to his chin as he scratched it in contemplation, still measuring you with a long look. “I think it’s more complex than that, y/n,” he breathed a sigh out, as if not sure how to say what he was actually thinking. 

And dammit– it hurt for him to not just respond with a simple “no, I don’t think you need fixing.” More complex? What the hell did that even mean? 

“Do you think I’m brok–?”

“No,” he sighed. Then, he had your heart leaping into your throat when, in one swift motion, he was standing and walking the ottoman closer to where you sat on the couch. When he plopped down, he didn’t touch you. . . but the closer proximity was enough. The way your eyes naturally flitted momentarily to where his chest steadily rose and fell. You breathed with him. He spoke his next words with a low rasp, eyes serious as they pored into yours. “You are not broken.”

Your heart fluttered, making its way back to its home in your chest. “Okay,” you muttered. You needed to hear him say that– more than you’d ever be comfortable admitting. Finally, you responded to his prior offer. You knew what you wanted. “Tell me what you found out.”

Jake watched you for a few more seconds before leaning back a little, reaching back to grab his phone from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting in. You averted your sight to your hands this time, not watching his movements. Your hands, which were still nestled nonchalantly on your tummy. 

“So,” he started. Your gaze flickered up to him, a lazy smile fitting to your face. You watched his lips move as he spoke. Honestly, you hated how safe he felt. It wrapped you up cozier than the blanket that’d been around you moments ago. And the sad reality: you couldn’t wrap yourself up in him. You’d have to take what you could get. “I found this place. About 30 minutes from us. It’s a bit of a lengthy drive, but I figured it was worth it. It’s a clinic that’s very well known by many people around here, I’ve found out.”

“Expensive?” 

“Eh. Yeah. Pricier than others,” he clicked his tongue, raised his brow. “But– I asked Josh offhandedly the other day what the insurance was like at the B&G to figure out if it was covered by your–.”

“What do you mean offhandedly?” You nudged, hoping he hadn’t divulged that it was about you. “You didn’t tell him–?”

“No. I just asked him as if I was comparing it to mine at the agency that I teach lessons through,” he reassured. You breathed in relief. He snickered. “I wouldn’t tell him anything about. . .,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from your face to the wall behind your head and then to his phone again. “Anyways. . . they’re covered by your insurance.”

At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter if Josh found out. . . he was about to have a massive bomb dropped on him (by you, of course). But. . . you still didn’t really want him finding anything out from Jake. Didn’t want him hearing anything before you were ready. 

“Cool,” you grinned, trying to ease the tension. He opened his mouth to continue, but you stopped him before he could. “Thank you, by the way. For looking into this.”

He looked surprised and you hated that he seemed that way. You should have been more appreciative to begin with. . . this was such a selfless thing for him to do and you’d reacted by getting defensive and snapping. When that was the last thing he deserved. God, you were awful sometimes. 

He smiled, wide and close-lipped. “Of course. I told you I would.”

You nodded, looking back to your hands, which you’d let move to your lap. Didn’t want him catching on to you holding your stomach. “What’s the next step?”

“Well,” he began, hesitantly. “I called them for a quote and asked about a specific therapist.”

“Why specific?” You questioned, scrunching your brows. 

“That leads into the next part, actually. . .,” he slowly continued, “She’s the only one at their practice that specializes in this unique form of therapy. A type I’ve read and researched on a fuck ton. . . I wanted to find the perfect method for your specific traumatic effects. So, I thought of the dreams. . . how you like control. . . I think it’s the type of therapy you could benefit most from.”

Damn. Way to call you out on your need for control. If anyone knew how much you desired control, though, you figured he did. But. . .now you were even more curious. . . because. . . you were venturing into different types? Wouldn’t just be sitting down with a shrink? What did he have in mind?

“And this type is. . .?”

His eyes light up, excitedly, as if he’s been dying to get to this part. “It’s called EMDR,” he voiced with a tinge of apprehension and elated anticipation. As you mouthed the letters under your breath, he clarified further. “Eye, E. Movement, M. Desensitization, D. And Reprocessing, R.”

You blinked a few times and shook your head. “Okay,” you stated slowly, placing your hands in front of you to indicate he needed to slow down. “What the fuck does all of that mean though?”

“Before I continue, I need you to know: I’ve done a shit ton of research and out of all of it, I’ve become really invested and interested in this type of therapy specifically. . . and for good reason. I’m really hopeful that it will help you,” he emphasized, eyes sincere. 

Your tummy did somersaults at how invested he’d become in all of this . . . but your mind stuttered momentarily at the flutter. You couldn’t help but get lost in the thought of a little bean in there and how you hoped to feel little kicks someday (obviously not yet, Jesus Christ), not just Jake-induced butterflies. God, you hoped there was a little thing in there. . . 

Jake’s steady, soft voice brought you back to the present and to his face that peered down at his phone, reading carefully. “To put it simply: it’s like a form of hypnosis. A way to force you to remember certain things so you can finally move on and heal from them.”

You blanched at that. “I’m going to be hypnotized?” To say you were second guessing this was a massive understatement. This EMDR shit could take a back seat. You were already apprehensive about getting help–even with the traditional approach. “I’m not down for hyp-fucking-nosis. Hell no. And all for the sake of remembering things I don’t really care to remember in the first place? I don’t think so, Jake,” you shook your head, toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your t-shirt. “I’m already taking a hugeass leap by being willing to go to therapy itself. I don’t need the voodoo shit . . . I’ll settle for the traditional approach,” you paused, not wanting to get too far ahead before showing your thanks. “But. . . thank you for–.”

“No, no. Listen,” he said, laying one hand on your knee for a blip of a second, your mind short-circuited at the touch. He damn sure had your attention now. “It’s different. Yes, you’ll remember things. But . . . well. . . Shit, I don’t know how to explain it in my own words. 

“Well, just send me a link and I’ll give it a read and we’ll settle–.”

“Quit,” he sternly said. “Quit saying that you’re going to settle. I don’t want you to settle. I want you to get to the root of this. . . so you can heal. Please. Hear me out,” he pleaded, the hand going back to rest on your knee for a few moments longer than last time before he removed it again. “It's–it’s more than remembering. It’s like— like your mind takes you back to the memory. You’re there all over again, living it a second time.”

“Yeah,” you went to stand up, but he moved with you, showing you he would follow you. So, you stayed put. Dear God, Jacob. “I don’t want to live the shit for a second time. Why the hell would I want to do that?“

“Do you want to fucking heal?” He snapped, his eyes searching yours for any sort of bullshit.

You blinked, “Damn,” you began, a sarcastic, irritated smirk on your face when you shook your head. Could he give you a break, maybe? Shit. But, still, you answered him. And his impatient, waiting eyes. Your answer was a no-brainer for you at this point. “Yes, Jake. I want to fucking heal.”

His jaw flexed as he let out a deep breath, through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. “So, please, y/n. . . just listen to me. Hear me out. You don’t have to do it. I just want you to let me explain it first,” he begged, eyes trained on yours, following every flicker of them. The unsureness you communicated through your gaze was balanced by the overwhelming sureness in his. You nodded for him to continue. He reciprocated the action, continuing with a deep breath in and and a deep breath out. “EMDR allows you to heal by letting you be in charge of your healing. You have the power to leave the situation this time. You’re in control of it now. It’s the past. But you have to face it. . . That’s part of it. . . The cool thing is, though. . . you can control whether you stay or leave a memory; you control how you move on from it.”

Well, goddammit. . . Of course he’d know just what to say to get you to finally listen to him. 

Control. That single word finally flicked the lightbulb on in your stubborn, jaded head. 

You paused heavily in your opposition, taking note of his far too sincere features. Perhaps he truly was just trying to help you, a sentiment that had always felt utterly foreign to you throughout your life. You’d held all of your guards up so high for so indescribably long. It took a lot for you to dare let anyone in aside from your sister (who, if you had to be honest, simply didn’t have a choice being your own flesh and blood. . .And given the fact that she lived it, too). 

But the harsh reality of the matter was, you had let Jake in. Too much. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the moment, you could’ve smirked at the irony of just how much– the possible little life in your tummy, a constant reminder in recent times. And, well, you’d definitely let him in enough that he knew you came with some serious trauma.

You watched him carefully, suddenly beginning to realize that the only reason you’d felt so reluctant to heed his guidance with this bizarre form of therapy. The reason you always doubted him– you couldn’t fathom the fact that he truly wanted to help you. 

But, time and again he seemed to prove you wrong. Even after you’d bitched him out to kingdom come in the kitchen months ago. There was no reason for him to want to help you. But here he was. With his research, his beautiful and honest eyes, the phone that he gripped with purpose with explanation after explanation, as if a lifeline. . .

He cared. Whether you could accept it or not. . .it didn’t change the fact that he actually cared. 

“I’ll go talk to the therapist,” you finally offered, relenting as much as you could at that moment. “I’ll feel it all out after I talk to her about it. . .,” you leveled, feeling fair in that decision. 

And he didn’t question, just shook his head with a lip stuck out. “Yeah, yeah. Totally.”

“How do I schedule the appointment?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next day was spent making strides towards your future. You scheduled the OBGYN appointment as soon as the clinic opened— being as that was the first, major priority. Setting that up had been simple. A date and time. The insurance you’d be using. Then, you’d hung up.

But, as soon as you’d set that up (and felt utter relief at having that panned out), you called the counseling practice Jake had told you about. And, you set up a therapy session with the woman Jake had given you the name of for the day before your first OB appointment. . . 

The counseling appointment was set up for the upcoming Monday. . . For some reason, when you’d been on the phone, scheduling for the nearest date available had seemed like the only logical option. But, it hadn’t been as cut and dry as your scheduling for the doctor’s appointment. There’d been a form. They’d informed you that they would email it for you to fill out with some general information (and a picture) before your first appointment. It was slightly daunting, but not totally unexpected, the more you’d thought about it. It was an understandably reasonable precursor to your first session. Just a few minor things to assist in your therapist knowing the most basic things about you before beginning. 

Doing it before the OB appointment had also seemed like a good idea. Talking to someone about the newfound worries to help you wade through the days to seeing the obstetrician. . . It seemed like a good plan of action. Made you feel more peace for the whole situation, honestly. 

So, that Friday, as you settled into your seat for a stupid ass writing course, you didn’t even care as you felt like other things were on the move. Honestly, at this point, you wanted to say fuck school and your distaste for the major you’d chosen. . . As they didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of it all. Bigger things were about to start happening. 

And you could only hope that what awaited you would be positive. . . Positive bigger things ahead. 

Bigger things that looked like real healing and a baby with Jake’s eyes.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The couch was leather and a little cold, even through your leggings. . . and the small office-room smelled like essential oils. It was reminiscent of a spa without the ambience music. 

The place didn’t need the music, though. . . the oils and general atmosphere were the perfect, calming mixture. . . Well thought out combination of smells and colors to ease the mind. 

But no therapist. Not yet. You’d been led by the secretary into a room where you now sat by yourself. She’d offered tea, coffee, and water, with a large, welcoming smile on her freckled face. You couldn’t refuse the offer, so you’d accepted the option of water. 

It had been in a bottle, and you clutched it tightly, opened only for the tiniest sip as you let your body relax as much as it could, leaning the slightest bit back into the couch. 

And you continued to wait. 

You watched the closed wooden door, your eyes wandering every now and then to the artwork that depicted gardens and fresh flowers. . . Some were beautiful paintings, while others were simple little drawings, or even real flowers, pressed in a glass frame. 

The walls were tinged with a light sage—the color, oddly easing to the mind. 

Then the knob was twisting open, matching the feeling of your nervous tummy. The muscles at the pit of your stomach flexed and flinched at the prospect of the therapist. What was she going to be like? Would she match the cool, relaxing environment of her office? You could only fucking hope. . .

Looking down at your hands to avoid any awkward eye contact, you took note of how badly you needed a manicure. . . damn. 

“Y/n?” A reposeful, gentle voice interrupted your nail critique. You looked up to acknowledge your long-awaited company. . . and man, was she completely different from your last therapist. The first thing you noticed was that she was. . . young. Mid-thirties at the very oldest. She was much younger than your aging counselor from the past. How long had she been doing this? “I’m Gianna. But all of my clients and closest friends call me Gia.”

“Gia,” you tried it out, letting a small smile fit to your face. It was a genuine smile– you were relieved. Without even really knowing her, you already felt so at ease with her. She was one of those people–like Elsie or Josh–who just carried a naturally empathetic, calming air. Made you feel like you were standing in the breeze on a warm spring day. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hair, naturally dark, but dyed beautifully to be a blonde-gray, was up in a styled messy bun. Lips, painted in the most beautiful naturally red tint. . . and the round, wire-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose complimented her soft features so incredibly well. The freckles on her pale face, visible through the circular frames. Her cheeks were tinged with a perfectly rosy blush, and they swelled with your greeting. 

She adjusted her loose, beige overalls over her off-white, long-sleeved mock neck. The overalls were the fabric ones that’d gone viral (which helped you to note how incredibly trendy she was, if you hadn’t already been able to guess that). She inhaled and exhaled easily, her lips quirking even more than before. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” she repeated back to you. “I’m sorry it took me a bit to make my entrance. I like to give my people some time to adjust to the space before they’re bombarded with all of the therapy stuff. It’s an important thing to me.” Then her leg was being bent to balance her white, platform converse on the seat of her pale pink rolling chair. “Before we begin. . . I also need you to know that my office has a completely open door policy. If, at any moment, you start feeling uncomfortable, please let me know and you may leave to take a break, or simply leave the practice to adjust your thoughts before the next session. Won’t charge you for the whole time or anything. . .,” she added the last part, surely as another financially conscientious adult. “I just know that sometimes this shit gets tough–baring all of it and having to get through it. . . it’s rarely easy, and I want to be able to foster a healthy, resting environment for you as you wade through all of it.”

“Wow,” you blinked, your heart warm in your chest as you let yourself sink a little further into the couch, shoulders loosening just a bit. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

Winking, she brought the mug up to her lips that she’d carried in with her. After taking a sip, she sat it on her desk and then wrapped both arms around her bent leg. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me and my profession before we begin?”

You pondered that, always having questions swirling in your head. “Just general things,” you snorted, playing it off. “Stupid, basic shit that I don’t need answered.”

“Nothing is stupid in here, sweets,” she said firmly, her eyes communicating more than the words she’d said. “Sometimes misguided and confused, yes, but never stupid.” She used the foot on the ground to swing the chair from side to side, ever-so-slightly. “Sooo, shoot. Ask anything you’d like–basic or not.”

Blinking at her again, you let your grip on your water bottle ease up. “Oh, um,” you quietly began. You scrambled for the right words. “Well, I guess I was wondering how long you’ve been doing this?”

She giggled. “Oh, sure. . . I’ve been practicing for about five years. Administered EMDR for the past two or so. . .” Her cheeks were still rosy with a gentle smile when she spoke next. “I will ask, though. . . did you not check out the website prior to this?”

Fuck. You hadn’t thought to do that. That was strange. . . usually you’d jump at the chance of looking into anything and everything before diving head first into something. Especially something as serious as a life-changing thing like therapy and the person you’d be inevitably baring your soul to. What in the fuck? Why hadn’t you thought to do that?

“I– um,” you searched her eyes, as if they held your answer. “I didn’t. Which is strange for me.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” she said, grabbing her mug from her desk again. But before taking a sip, she continued. “I just noted on your form that you like having control over the things that transpire in your life. And checking the website to do some solid research seems like just the way to do that.” She took a sip, humming as she took it away from her full lips. “But there’s my thoughts going to crazy places based primarily on black and white principles. And we’re definitely not here to do that,” she shook her body as if shaking it off, putting her leg down and nestling her mug between her hands. “I don’t look at shit in black and white. That’s something that, as your therapist, I need you to know. There’s a lot of healing properties found in the gray.”

You couldn’t explain it, but the last sentence left you feeling this overwhelming sense of hope and understanding. Without even knowing you, she seemed to get the fact that you came with a lot of fuckin’ gray. All kinds of shades of the color. Had you been that transparent on your form? Not able to remember it, you just pushed it to the side as you figured it didn’t really matter. Because even if you had been open on the form, you were about to get much more transparent.

“Thank you,” was all you said, the water bottle held in loose hands as you comfortably crossed your legs. “My life has left me pretty fucking gray, so that’s a relief.”

“There’s beauty in the gray, love,” she noted, leaning forward as if engaging even further in the conversation (as if she wasn’t already remarkably with-it). She held her tea steady in her hands, and you couldn’t help but look down at the mug to see what it looked like. And, of course, it was covered in pale flowers, just like her office. “I’m down for any more questions you may have.”

“Family?”

“Just a fiancé, but other than her, I’m pretty estranged from much more family. Boundaries are a specialty of mine, and I’ve had to set a few in my life,” she said, assured and confident. “No kids yet. We aren’t quite sure if we want them or not.”

You nodded. But, you were not able to hold back the wetness that gathered in your eyes. The tears settled at your ducts and if you blinked, you knew they’d fall. The way you were feeling at the moment was unexplainable. So many things at once. But, most importantly, you were thankful. Thankful for people like Gia. The woman exuded peace and you weren’t sure why you’d ever questioned trying therapy again when there were women like her in this profession. 

“Thank you,” you said again, as if you were a manufactured robot. Then you shook your head, embarrassed at your currently tiny vocabulary. “I’m sorry I keep saying that. I’m just grateful there’s people like you in this world.”

Wow. Okay. So we’re getting real honest and sentimental now, huh? A good-humored voice asked you. Here for it.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said quietly, respecting the new emotions in the room. “Are you ready to tell me a bit about you?”

Letting the tears fall with a blink, you wiped at them with a breathy laugh. She grabbed the nearest tissue box and handed it to you. You wiped under your eyes and dabbed at your cheeks. “Chose to not wear makeup for a reason,” you chuckled, internally thanking past-you. She laughed with you, placing the Kleenex on the couch next to you for proper access, then sat back, balancing her elbows on her thighs as she held her face up with open palms. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said once you’d settled. “We’ve got the next hour and a half.”

“How much do you wanna know?” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed your locked hands over your tummy. “I’m a basket case.”

Her eyes sparkled. “As much as you’re willing to tell me,” she affirmed with a wink behind her glasses. “I’m all ears.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, as you left that day, you were absolutely confident in saying Gia knew about as much of your life as Elsie did. And that was saying something.

She’d just been so receptive, and had kept encouraging you– as you cried and laughed and sighed and growled. She kept reminding you that she wanted to ‘hear as much as you’d give her’. That she was ‘in your corner’ and that she was ‘there for you.’ And her words and kind eyes were enough to spur you on. Continue to the point of her knowing nearly everything there was to know about your life. 

From your childhood to now, Gia was now totally knowledgeable in the realm of Y/n. 

Thankfully, there’d been no EMDR, as she informed you that next session you’d begin talking about the intricacies of the practice and whether or not you wanted to begin with it the session after your next. She wanted to take time to adjust and ‘simply be’ before introducing the innovative method of therapy.

She’d given a couple of tidbits about it, just for you to think about before the next session, but not too much, since the next session was dedicated to her actually breaking it down for you. 

“Now, before you leave, I want you to know that we can locate your safe place next time. The place in your mind where you’ll return when you need a breath of fresh air amidst the memories,” she’d offered, hands in her pockets, tea cup abandoned as you stood up alongside her to follow her out of the office. But before you two left the office space, she took the time to assure you once more. “But only if that is what you decide you want. This is your life, sweets, and I’m just here to help you through it.”

And, for the eighty-millionth time that day, you’d told her ‘thank you.’ You were going to take a bit of time to consider it. 

She’d also given you a few nuggets of wisdom. 

They’d specifically followed the end of your session, when you’d broken down about the unsureness of your pregnancy (but easily applied to the rest of your messy ass life). 

One thing she said to do: “Slow down your thoughts. Do not let them take control. Slow them down and figure them out with what you know. Piece by piece, break them down before they get too astronomically crazy.”

Another being: “Let yourself feel peace. Just every once in a while, let yourself feel it and don’t let guilt eat you alive for it.” (When you’d laughed sarcastically, she’d nodded, agreeing that it was “most definitely easier said than done.”)

She had been wonderful at assuring you that it was most definitely a product of your trauma to react so preposterously. How you thought certain decisions and thoughts might give you peace, yet always resulted in the opposite. But, she’d also told you that you’d “figure it out bit by bit” as you move along and to “give yourself grace” as you navigate it all on your own, in your day-to-day life.

But, there was one singular, specific piece of advice she’d offered that was sticking out more than much else. 

Of course, you’d filled her in all the way up to your appointment tomorrow and Elsie’s idea for Josh to attend with you. You wanted her opinion on it, asking for as much, and she’d been firm in her opinion. Her words rang in your head as you navigated the late afternoon New York traffic on your way back home.

“Your sister is a genius,” she’d said astonishingly, blowing out a breath from between her naturally full lips. “Everything she said is exactly what I’d tell you, too, sweets. And if it helps to hear this, even as an outside party, Josh sounds like the type of person to receive it in a non-traumatizing manner. He will, most definitely, be sensitive to your feelings. And, having him there will help you feel less alone and calm in your worries. . . and it will help him feel needed–like Elsie said. So, truly, it’s a win-win. If I had my way, I’d make sure Josh is there tomorrow. But, again, it’s your life and it’s up to you.”

“How do I even ask, though?” You asked pathetically, pulling your sleeves down over your hands as you began to get nervous at the prospect. 

“Take a deep breath,” she calmly recited (as she’d done a time or two during your life lament). After doing it with you, she settled you with an understanding gaze. “Just text him. Tell him you have an important appointment tomorrow and that you need him there with you.”

“And if he asks what it’s for?”

“I’d say you tell him that you’ll tell him when you see him or when you get there,” she advised. “But, I don’t think he’s the type of person to question when you’re being vulnerable like that. I’d bet you he just agrees to it, no questions asked– if he’s free, that is,” she winked. 

So, with her sitting there, you’d texted him and asked exactly what she’d told you to. The thing about having an “important appointment.”

And even though he hadn’t responded, you tried to not overthink it as you calmed down from telling your entire life story to your therapist.

When you’d pulled into the apartment complex, your stomach sank at the sight that greeted you. Your space was awaiting you, but Jake’s, next to yours, was empty. Per usual these days, his new purchase of a used car was not at home at the same time as you. Really, you’d gotten used to his lack of presence. But it always made you sadder than you wanted to admit. Because, well, you knew if he wasn’t at the studio or some rehearsal, he was most likely with Maya (you were awfully glad he didn’t bring her around the apartment too much, but still. . .your mind went crazy at the other prospects of what they were doing). 

But today, it was worse. You were sad for more than your assumptions about his whereabouts. Today, you desperately wanted to tell him thank you– wanted to fill him in on how it had gone so great. But he wasn’t there. Because you’d pushed him away (something that Gia told you you’d ‘navigate the reasoning for’).

So, as you trudged up the steps, instead of walking in to tell Jake, you just took time to relax as much as you could. And you figured a good way to do that was to give yourself a long ‘everything shower,’ with your most favorite R&B playlist playing as background noise. 

And when you’d gotten out, the screen that you opened your phone to was something that brought a swarm of anxiously joyous butterflies. Under his name, there was a ‘Yes, of course!’ from Josh. And below his text, was a notification for your next appointment with Gia. One week from today. 

Everything would be okay. It would. You recited this as you responded to him, deciding to try your best not to think of telling him until you absolutely had to tomorrow, after hitting send with a simple ‘thank you :)’.

You kept reciting that everything would ‘be okay’ as you put a hand to the firm little bump, growing steadily at the bottom of your tummy. And you contemplated as much as you were willing to, without reducing yourself to any more tears (you’d cried enough already for one day). Because now all you were going to be plagued with for the next several hours until your OB appointment was whether there was actually a baby in your growing belly. 

You then ate a giant salad (everything else you wanted to eat had made you feel nauseous as hell), as you’d watched Friends. Your thoughts were subdued, but still spiraled a tad. . .though, you took Gia’s advice and tried to slow them down to navigate each one with what you genuinely knew. There was nothing telling you that you weren’t with child besides your own convoluted mess of negative thought. More signs were pointing to that you still were. One piece of truth keeping you going was your growing belly. And even though bellies could still grow after miscarriage or in the case of hysterical pregnancy, the probability of that being your situation was very, very slim. Right?

You knew that. 

Before too long, you were standing in front of your vanity, braiding your wet hair and laying down to find rest much easier than many nights in recent times. . . the only thing that kept you up for a bit longer than you wanted was wondering why Jake hadn’t come home yet.

But, again, you knew it was none of your fucking business.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next afternoon had you waiting outside of your apartment as soon as Josh said he was about five minutes away. Your apartment had started to feel absolutely insufferable, closing in around you as your mind went crazy with scenarios.

The autumn day was lovely, sun shining, but warmer today than it’d been yet this season. With no breeze. And, the lack of breeze was not aiding in your already-sweaty palms, wet with nerves. Or your upset stomach—your current nausea induced by your anxiety more than the (hopeful) baby in your tummy.

Your stomach was fucking rolling as you waited for Josh to pull up to the complex. 

Dramatic as it may have sounded, you felt as if you were on the verge of a heatstroke when he eventually showed up in his little car, which was literally squeaking and creaking as it sat still. The exhaust emitted from the back of the car was enough to make you feel like you were actually going to blow chunks, and you instantly decided you could not ride thirty minutes to the clinic in his little hunk of metal.

Sending a quick text, you made up an excuse to take your car. To emphasize the text, you went ahead and started walking to your Jetta, parked in its usual spot.

You, 11:49 p.m.: I need to get gas… Can we take my car? 

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Of course.

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Are you ready?

You smiled, looking over to where he was still parked in his visitor space. His eyebrows crinkled in concentration to the device in his hand as he watched the screen, waiting for you to respond.

You, 11:51 p.m.: Yes, Joshua. I’m at my car and staring right at you.

As soon as he got the text, you waited for what you knew was coming. He looked up from his phone, through his windshield, and at you with a giant grin painted across his features. It didn’t take him long to get out of his car, lightly jogging as he came over to you. 

“You creep,” he smiled, slightly out of breath. “Peeking through my windows.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach started aching, yet again, at the prospect of what you were about to tell him. Honestly, at this point, you were just ready to get it over. The longer you kept it to yourself, the more you were worrying about it and his possible reaction. And the sooner you could just tell him, you’d see his honest, real reaction. . . and then you could deal with the rest from there. 

It also helped that his girlfriend and your certified therapist thought that it would go okay. They were the practical thinkers in this situation, whereas you were an overthinker to the highest degree. And, if you could just get it out–just fucking tell him–you could (hopefully) validate their predictions of how the situation would play out. 

“Am I driving or are you?” He asked, bringing your thoughts back to the present. 

To current Josh. Josh who didn’t know anything yet. Completely ignorant Josh. . . fuck. The last moments of keeping him in the dark.

“You,” was all you said before you unlocked the car and made your way to the passenger side. Once you were both inside, you handed him the keys as he started the engine.

Your stomach fucking dropped as he backed out of the space. . . what was about to come out would literally change you and Josh forever.

Would it be for good? Would it be for bad? If he was going to be mad at you, how long would he stay that way?

You couldn’t be upset with him if he got angry. For everything. Like distracting Jake when Josh had specifically told you he didn’t want that for his twin. Or for simply keeping this giant ass secret from him about it all. The more you thought about it, you thought that perhaps the reason you were so scared was because of how completely validated he would be if he did end up being pissed as hell with you. . .

But. . . you just couldn’t stand losing him. Especially at such a time as this. . . you needed him. 

And that’s why you just needed to fucking tell him. It was inevitable for him to find out, and the sooner it was out, the sooner you weren’t lying to him anymore. Because that’s exactly what you’d been doing. You’d been fucking lying. For months. To your best friend.

“So,” he began, excited–the complete opposite of how you were feeling. “Where are we going?” 

Plugging your phone into the CarPlay, you turned off Siri’s voice before you did anything since you didn’t want her blurting out your destination before you were ready to tell him. Once she was silenced, you pulled up the directions to the clinic you’d carefully chosen. 

You sat back slowly after entering it, your stomach spinning as your thoughts went insane and your nerves continued to set on white-hot fire.

You spared a glance over at him through your lashes to see him looking out the corner of his eye at you, coming up to a stoplight. The look he was giving you made you sure that your face was morphed to show utter terror and worry. “What’s wrong, mama?”

Fuck. You turned to face the front again and squeezed your eyes shut at the nickname, bringing two clenched, sweaty fists up to your eyes as your skin began to feel like it was quite actually peeling off of you in nervous jitters. Your eyes couldn’t stand being squeezed shut any longer as you felt the tears forming behind your lids.

He continued driving, but with the occasional nervous glance in your direction. 

Then, he laid a comforting palm on your shoulder, his thumb soothing circles over your arm. 

And, once he’d done that, it was no longer in your control to keep the tears at bay. You tried to fight them back, but it was to no avail. 

So, there you were, face becoming drenched in tears as you couldn’t stop sputtering little sobs. 

In your peripheral, you saw Josh looking at you as he came to one last light before the highway, face surely painted with distress. “Y/n?” He checked, careful and concerned. “I’m sorry if I said some–.”

And what came out of your mouth next was not at all expected. But, it blurted through your lips with zero fucking warning. You did not know which part of your brain had decided to communicate with your mouth to say it.

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed.

The car lurched to a stop, cars honking furiously behind you at Josh’s abrupt action. Your stomach, already thick with nerves, couldn’t handle it. You quickly slapped an open palm over your mouth to conceal any projectile vomiting. Thankfully none came, but you had to clench your eyes shut once again as Josh made a wide, sloppy U-turn off of the street that was leading to the highway. 

And when he’d finally come to a stop again, you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled the car over into the nearest McDonald’s.

Focusing too hard on trying not to vomit helped you to stop the outrageous weeping for a few minutes. You finally peeled the hand from your mouth as you took several deep breaths, in and out, to calm yourself and your stomach. 

Before you even knew what was happening, Josh was getting out, running to the door of the establishment. You watched in the mirror to your right as he simultaneously got his wallet out of his back pocket. 

Choosing not to worry about it, you shut your eyes once more to ease your tummy. But it did not help and you felt the puke coming in just enough time to unlock your door, open it, and puke all over a piece of the yellow line that boxed the car into its space.

You groaned as you leaned back up into the car and into your seat, letting your hair fall from the impromptu ponytail that you were holding at the back of your neck. Popping open the glovebox, you grabbed a few napkins to wipe your face (these days, between the incessant crying and vomiting, you were fucking constantly thanking God for the years-accumulated collection).

And then the driver’s side door was opening once more, this time Josh’s khakis making the first appearance as he climbed back in. He had two cups, one balanced between his bicep, clad in a white, long-sleeved tee and his chest and one in his hand. He quickly placed both in the center cup holders and popped a straw in each. 

Your brows lifted, wondering. “What did you–?” 

“Sprite,” he pointed to the one at the front. “And water,” the one in the second holder. 

“How did you–?”

“There’s a part of my brain permanently cemented with what it was like to watch my mom be pregnant with Sammy,” he explained, eyes soft with a smile gracing his handsome features. “I was too young to remember watching her pregnancy with Ron, but Sammy. . . he’s always been tough–even in the fuckin’ womb.”

You gave a small giggle, stomach spinning when your hand went to grab the Sprite. The carbonation sounded perfect, and Sprite had been a go-to in a few cases of your recent nausea. 

The cool drink had been just what you’d needed, sighing as soon as you brought the straw away from your lips with the first sip. You kept it clutched in your hands as a lifeline when you looked at Josh next, eyes wet. “Thank you, Joshy,” you croaked, tone exuding gratefulness. 

“Yeah, always,” he affirmed, his eyebrows dipped in. The next few minutes were spent in silence, your thoughts finally quieted a little with the initial confession to him. You took a few quiet sips of your drink, the sound of you swallowing the loudest sound in the small car.

Knowing he most likely wasn’t wanting to pressure you to talk, you took the initiative. “I–I’m sorry for not– I’m–,” you choked, shaking your head. The tears were beginning to gather once fucking more. Yet, even with eyes wet and throat tight, you persevered. You had to get the rest of it said before you continued to the appointment–you were going to be late if you didn’t get going soon. And you weren’t about to tell him the rest afterwards. “I have to tell you the rest.”

His jaw clenched in preparation for it as he nodded, his body turning to better face you for what was left. “Lay it on me.”

You gulped, mimicking his movement so you could see him better. Your throat was so tight it nearly suffocated you with nerves. “The–the father,” you started, looking into the eyes that looked so eerily similar to his brother’s. Very much like the ones you hoped your baby would wind up having–yet, not entirely the same. “Do you want to know?”

Of course you’ll want to, you thought at your ridiculous question. And I’m going to tell you anyway, but I’m stalling like a pussy.

His lips quirked, but only the slightest, tiniest bit. “Only if you want to tell me.”

I have to.

“I–I do,” you said, your eyes darting down to your hands which wrung at your waist, itching to touch your tummy. So, you did, settling them on the small bump. And instantly, you felt better. You were beginning to find it slightly crazy what one simple touch could do. 

Choosing to watch your hands lace at your tummy instead of him, you took the last jump with two words. “It’s Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i promise you won't be waiting a month for Josh's reaction ;) see you very, very soon <3

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3 (i am slowly but surely adding these users to the taglist! :) life is busy as hell and i haven't been updating my doc w the tags like i should :/)

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

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[bluecrocss]

Another Yap-sesh: PJO CASTING for Season 2 (Please read)

In light of the recent casting announcements, I just wanted to remind the greater PJO fandom (not that I should have to), THIS ADAPTATION IS NOT CONCERNED WITH "BOOK ACCURACY" WHEN IT COMES TO PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

They are prioritizing personality and acting ability.

I shouldn't HAVE to spell this out, since none of the literal main characters have been book accurate, but I'm still seeing shit like, "Idc if annabeth is black, but Rachel BETTER have red hair", "Thalia HAS to have her blue eyes! It's so important in the book", yadda yadda yadda

If the main characters aren't book accurate, idk why y'all are acting like they're suddenly going to lock in with side characters based off features that y'all are pretending are more important than they are because in all honesty, you just don't like change (let's at least be honest).

Like... no, it doesn't matter that Rachel Dare's initials spell out R.E.D. The red hair, literally does not fundamentally affect her story arc in the original series (I know y'all are gonna come up with some dumb B.S. like "that's the first thing Percy noticed about her! Red hair is the ONLY thing that will make her stand out!" "We're losing redhead rep. Rachel is the only character that made me feel okay about having red hair!" blah blah blah lmao)

Listen, with the exception of characters like Nico, Bianca, Ethan Nakamura, etc. Where their ethnicity actually plays into the character or story arc, y'all need to let go of hair color, skin tone, eye color, etc.

The announcements that have been leaked for Thalia and Tyson are asking for actors of any ethnicity and have no mention of any particular physical features (just an age range, that Thalia will have a punk aesthetic and Tyson needs to look like a large teenager). So accept the following:

Thalia might not have dark hair or blue eyes

Either character may be non-white (that doesn't mean they'll be black, cuz I know some of y'all will automatically try to use this as an excuse to be anti-black [["Anti-woke" losers try not use black people as a scapegoat challenge, level: impossible]]. And also, they never actually described Tyson's racial identity lmao. Y'all just tend to default to white. I'm sure you won't be losing your minds about "book accuracy" when the actor doesn't have big, disjointed, yellow teeth either).

Anyway, I'm actually deviating from the point. I don't particularly have any aesthetic demands for the characters, believe it or not. I personally don't need either of them to be poc (but I will always stand by, that DEI is a good thing and white people can never lose "rep", since it's not something y'all were ever barred from), nor do I care about eye color or hair color. They could both be completely "book accurate" and I wouldn't have an issue with it (although, I kinda hope Rachel Dare won't be a redhead, so the last of the "book accuracy" as a shield for bigotry cry babies will finally drop this series once and for all, so the rest of us can enjoy it for what it is).

The point of the post is that there is a *chance* they might not be physically book accurate, and there is no reason for y'all to put another young actor through what you demons put 12 year old Leah through (feel free to read the pinned on my page, careful tho, I'm a yapper, to get a clearer idea of that whole mess).

Once y'all leave your little echo-chamber of false reality that is the internet, actors are working people who apply for jobs they are qualified for. If there are no physical or racial specifications for a role, these working actors, who are hoping for their big break have every right to audition (btw, it's not "race-swapping" if the auditions are open to everyone. Check my pinned). When they are given that role, that is the decision of Disney, the casting directors, and Mr. Rick Riordan himself. If you disagree, find the private emails of the people responsible and contact them yourselves. Harassing the actors for fairly earning the role, and complaining about their casting on public pages "(not based off their performance, solely on their looks), which will just incite more hate towards them for being a WORKING ACTOR and accepting a JOB, makes you a bigot. No two ways about it. It is just insane behavior.

What's that completely inaccurate adage about insanity, again? Something about doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results.

Y'all have seen the first season. The author, show-runners, writers AND producers have spoken ad nauseam about the direction of this adaptation. The books have not been burned. They still exist in all their glory for you to read. If you need 1:1 book accuracy, this adaptation is not for you. Plenty of people have enjoyed it for what it is. Why are you making yourself miserable? Why are you making the fandom miserable? Why are you desperately trying to make the actors (most of whom are minors) miserable?

Nobody is holding a gun to your head. Simply, don't. Watch. It.

Cuz if they announce the casting for season 2, and y'all starting acting shocked that they're not "book accurate" and sending hate mobs to young actors and inciting racism and bigotry in the Fandom AGAIN... I think it'll finally speak to the true nature of this fandom. It was never about "book accuracy" it was always about hate. Whatever superiority complex the PJO fandom has been carrying over a certain *wizarding* series... y'all can just chuck out the window.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Love for Duty’s Sake Part 4

AN: Hello loves! With this part L4DS officially becomes my longest series which is kinda a cool little milestone to hit. I’ve come to fix the mess I made on Valentine's day LMAO (kinda). Also for absolutely no reason I did mention Okoye having a wife in this, that's just my personal hc IDK. This part is very Shuri-focused but its intentionally like that, next part will be more Y/N focused. As always, this series is dedicated to my baby @pinkwright. 

Summary: As the only daughter of Genelia, there were things you just had to do, and marrying the Queen of Wakanda was one of those things.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, guns, mentions of death and grieving, that’s it I think.

Word count: 4,171

Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Masterlist.  Taglist.

Suggested listening: So My Darling (Acoustic) - Rachel Chinouriri 

“So my darling, so my darling, so my darling When our hairs are turning grey Won't even remember our younger days, so So my darling, so my darling Baby, my boo You are my best friend, you are my best friend Remember I'll always love you”

“My Queen, please we need you to at least sit-down.” The hand belonging to the voice that was pestering her came to rest on her shoulder, snapping Shuri out of her internal world.

“Sit down?” Shuri whipped around to face the medical attendant behind her. “How am I supposed to sit when my WIFE could be lying dead on the table right now? Tell me how!” She demanded.

“Assuming the worst and pacing outside of the operating room will not do anything but raise your blood pressure my queen, please.” The medical attendant urged Shuri again, taking Shuri’s hand in hers and attempting to guide her to a seat outside of the operating room. “We have the best doctors working on her majesty, now is the time for you to rest.”

That got Shuri’s blood boiling and she ripped her hand out of the woman's grasp. “The best doctor in Wakanda is right here! Yet you all have barred me, the queen, from entering the operating room and ensuring umfazi wam (my wife’s) safety!”

“You are too close to her my Queen-” The attendant explained but Shuri quickly cut her off.

“Was I not too close to my brother when I tried to save his life? Would you have stopped me from intervening and saving my mother's life because I was too close to her?” Shuri questioned taking a step forward into the woman's space.

“Of course not but you must understand-”

Before Shuri could cut the intendant off again, Aneka’s voice cut through, “My Queen, Okoye, and Ayo have news.” Only then did Shuri pull her piercing brown eyes off of the woman and over to the Dora.

“Is this news that seriously warrants me leaving Y/N’s side?” Aneka felt the seriousness of Shuri’s question, the queen was unwilling to leave your side unless it was truly worth it.

The simple “Yes.” however was a definitive enough answer to have Shuri agree to leave the hospital wing and venture down to her lab. Not before instructing the attendant to call her if anything went wrong or if surgery finished before she got back.

Entering the lab Shuri was greeted by all eyes on her. She could feel them scanning her body, all creating their own assumptions about her; which would no doubt fuel the palace gossip about what exactly had happened on this routine business trip.

To be fair though, Shuri was doing nothing to help quell the gossip herself. In her haste to get you into the operating room and refusal to leave your side, she hadn’t gotten the chance to change out of her bloodstained clothing. Now she walked up to Okoye’s awaiting hologram, body tight with nerves clad in a button-up covered in your blood.

“What is it Okoye?” Shuri demanded sternly, crossing her arms and taking a deep breath in.

Okoye faltered for half of a second, eyes taking in Shuri’s being and easily seeing through the collected facade the royal was trying to put on. The way crossing her arms over her chest Shuri was subconsciously protecting her most vulnerable parts and trying to ground herself. How she never really exhaled the deep breath she had just taken, rather letting it come out of her nostrils in a strained sense, as if even breathing was a task.

Ayo who stood next to Okoye didn’t notice the intricacies in Shuri’s demeanor or Okoye’s pause, and neither did Aneka who was behind the queen. But Shuri noticed, subconsciously straightening the way she stood.

“Ngangamsha, (your majesty,) we have in custody the man who tried to take Y/N’s life.” The sentence was brief but Okoye knew her next movements would explain it all. Stepping to the side she revealed a man sitting in a rolling chair, gagged.

To say sitting however would be the wrong word to describe the predicament your attacker found himself in. He was bound down to the chair with rope at every point the brain could think of. Wrists, forearms, elbows, shoulders, chest, thighs, knees, calves, hell even the man's feet had been tied down. This was no doubt the work of Ayo, Shuri could recognize the master rope work the older soldier had been teaching her over the years.

Shuris eyes took this time to really take in your attacker's features. He didn’t look like a killer. Someone like Klaue or Killmonger, those were killers and they looked like it too. People who would have had no problem orchestrating a dangerous move like this. No this man was different, he looked like someone Shuri could pass on the street in America and not think twice about. He looked utterly forgettable.

“His name is Liam Drockers, born and lives here in DC, occupation sales and data analyst for several companies and businesses, the ice cream shop included.” Okoye's introduction did nothing but cause more confusion. Who the hell was this guy? “I am requesting permission to begin a thorough questioning of the subject.”

“No.” Shuri’s answer was clear and confident, following not a breath after Okoye finished speaking. “He will be escorted to Wakanda and questioning will be run by me.”

“My queen,” It was now Aneka’s time to speak, her knowledge of international law coming in handy. “He cannot be removed from American soil unless we have an admission of guilt, he is an American citizen and thus retains their rights.”

The muscles in Shuri’s neck tensed as she took a breath, “Do we all agree that this is the man who carelessly tried to take my wife's life?” She spoke as if he wasn’t there.

A “Yes,” came from the three Dora’s present.

“Then what more would an admission of guilt do? He is guilty. He will be brought back to Wakanda, questioned, and tried by the highest court for his crime.” Shuri spoke the words with utter disgust as she looked at the man.

“Your majesty-” Ayo tried this time, hoping maybe a different voice would dissuade Shuri from her current plan of action.

“Konele. (Enough.) Liam Drockers will be brought to Wakanda under direct orders of the Queen. Uyaqonda? (Do you understand me?)”

Just as before, the three women responded “Yes,” in unison.

“Good. One final thing, ensure no media outlets find out about this. Wakandan or otherwise I do not want this news broken until Y/N decides to. She deserves her privacy”

For the first time that day, the three women agreed with her. Knowing that the last thing the two of you needed was to be hounded online by news outlets trying to get a scoop.

“Thank you, you all are dismissed.” At Shuri’s word Aneka and Ayo, both left their respective rooms. Ayo wheeling Liam out of the room, presumably to prepare him for departure. And Aneka going to return to guard your operating room, leaving Shuri and Okoye standing in front of their holographic screens.

“Ikumkani wam, (My queen)” Okoye tried switching to their mother tongue hoping it would reach Shuri.“I do not know what you are thinking right now but I am telling you that you need to slow down.”

“Okoye, do not do that.”

Still, the older woman continued, “You are under unimaginable stress Shuri, you need to take a step back and assess the situation impartially.”

“Impartially? You expect me to look at this situation impartially Okoye, seriously?” A rubber band inside of Shuri that had been winding itself up finally snapped. “How am I supposed to be impartial when MY wife is lying on the operating table fighting for her life? Do not lie to me and say that you wouldn’t do everything in your power to protect the ones you love. I am doing the same thing.”

Okoye ate Shuri’s words along with the anger underlying all of her sentences. What she said was true, Okoye knew if she found herself in this position she would stop at nothing to bring her wife’s assailant to justice. But Okoye was not Shuri, and she knew that.

The ramifications of Okoye’s action, if she were placed in the same situation, would have nowhere near the blowback as the queen’s. This was the fact that Okoye understood that Shuri just couldn’t seem to grasp. But the general was aware any attempts to explain this to Shuri right now would be futile. she was too fragile, too caught up in her own emotions.

“Sisi, (Sister,)” Okoye’s tone softened. She was not coming to Shuri as a general would come to her queen, instead, she chose to appeal to their personal connection hoping that she would at least hear what Okoye was saying. “Your mind will run much clearer after a shower and a quick nap. You have been through something traumatic, and you need to take a step back. ”

Okoye paused debating if continuing on was a good idea, ultimately after really looking at Shuri once again she decided to keep going. “She will need you when she wakes up, all of you, not just the parts you’re willing to show.”

Shuri tried to speak, her mouth opened and her lips moved as if to form words. She so badly wanted to tell Okoye just how scared she was at that moment. How it wasn’t fair how fast everything happened. How you two were just beginning to warm up to each other after all this time. How when you were wheeled into the medical wing she squeezed your hand so hard as she yelled out instructions, she was worried it might have been bruised.

All of these things ran through Shuri’s head as possible things she could say to Okoye at that moment. And she was sure the older woman would listen dutifully as she spoke and offer nothing if not the most rational responses.

But Shuri couldn’t bear to hear that right now, she had other things more important than her feelings to worry about in her eyes. So to waste time that she could be using to try and save your life, discussing her own feelings would be the ultimate careless act.

“Thank you, Okoye, that will be all.” Before Okoye could respond Shuri ended the call.

Now without Okoye’s holograph in front of her, the way her reflection looked back at her sent shivers down her spine. Your blood still caked into her clothing, curls falling every which way, she felt and looked like some strange amalgamation of her own physical form. Maybe Okoye was right.

Quickly she called Aneka who assured her that you were still in surgery and were not predicted to be finished for at least another hour and a half. A nap was one hundred percent out of the question, she couldn’t sleep until she knew for sure that you were okay and that your attacker had at minimum stepped foot on Wakandan soil. But a shower and a quick change of clothes could be arranged.

Standing in the shower she let the water run over her head and fall all down her back. As she stared down at her feet letting her mind go numb the color of the water changed. The once clear water that ran down the drain now held a reddish tint, it took her a moment to realize what exactly caused it.

It was your blood that had dried into her hands from when she applied pressure to your chest. Her mind suddenly switched on and to you. What would you wear or wake up to? The hospital garments that were provided were definitely nothing to scoff at but Shuri had picked up on how particular you were about your clothing and the fabrics you wore. She made a mental note to grab something out of your drawers so you could feel more comfortable as you recovered.

Your wife spent the rest of her time in the shower mulling over the possibilities of what your attacker's motives could have been.

While picking out an outfit she mentally compiled a list of every major disagreement with the United States she had been involved in since taking over.  

And by the time she was finished readying herself to be back at your side, truly she felt as if she hadn’t developed concrete enough theories to deduce what would cause a lowly date and sales analyst to attempt to take the life of a foreign head of state.

She’d gotten herself nowhere in all that thinking, and more importantly, she’d gotten you nowhere. When you awoke, Shuri wouldn’t be able to tell you that she’d fixed the whole situation and that you had nothing to worry about other than getting better. No, she’d have to tell you the truth. That yes, they’d gotten your attacker and he was in custody; but they were no further along than that.

She was failing you.

Shaking Shuri from her mind's inner turmoil she remembered to grab your clothes before heading back down to the operating room. Across from your bed stood the dark oak dresser your family had gifted you and Shuri as an engagement gift. She dug into the drawer just as she had seen you do a million times looking for a t-shirt for you to wear. After moving a few to the side, she was met with something hard yet pliable. Confused, the queen pulled it and her hand out of the drawer to inspect.

“A journal?” Shuri questioned out loud. There was no mistaking that's what she held in her hand at that exact moment, the whole thing was wrapped in a leather case with your monogram on the front. Something else got her attention though, sticking out of the bottom was a small receipt. She recognized the name of the restaurant Mafemi’s, a place you two used to frequent in the early days of your courtship.

“But that was so long ago,” Shuri thought to herself. “What were you still doing with a receipt from then?”

As much as she knew she shouldn't, Shuri opened your journal, promising that she would only read the page that the receipt had come from.

Date: May 15, 2022 Today Shuri and I went out to lunch at Mafemi’s. Mama says it's good for us to get out and be seen together. It’ll “help take the spotlight off of the reckless decisions I made during my single life.” Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. But lunch, I don’t know. I just feel like Shuri doesn't feel the same way I do about her. Like when we go out to eat together, my eyes are on her. Her curly hair, her sharp ass jawline, and her bottom lip that always seems to be slightly poked out. Just all of HER. But what does Shuri do when we’re supposed to spend quality time together? Sit in my face and fiddle with her damn kimoyo beads! She can hardly pick her eyes up from it to at least feign interest in the conversations we’re having. The only time she acts remotely attracted interested in me is when the fucking cameras come out. “Oh Y/N act like I just said something funny so they can see you laughing with me.” Or “Oh Y/N let me feed you this bite of food so they can see us being romantic.” I get that this arrangement wasn’t her first choice, HELL it wasn’t mine either but shit. We could at least try and see if there was anything between us….

What the hell did Shuri just read? Never in her life had it crossed her mind that you harbored any feelings for her other than hatred. All of this time she just assumed you had never thought of her in any other light than contempt but to hear younger you talk so candidly about the way you felt had her thinking otherwise.

Had you always felt like this?

  Was the question that bounced around in Shuri’s head as she took a seat on the edge of your bed, the journal still in hand. And if so, how had she missed the signs that had been sitting in her face so obviously? She looked down at your journal, a few more pages couldn’t hurt, right?

As much as she wanted to continue, a message from Aneka on her kimoyo beads halted her progress.  

My queen, Y/N is out of surgery and is being moved to her room in the ICU recovery unit. 

Thanking Bast out loud, Shuri stood from the bed and tucked the journal back in its hiding place. She quickly found a sweatshirt and short set she knew you felt comfortable in and rushed out of the bedroom.

The sight of you lying unconscious in the hospital bed, hooked up to dozens of wires made Shuri’s stomach churn. The doctors had updated her before she entered the room. The surgery went as well as could be expected given the amount of blood you lost and how much time it took to fly back to Wakanda from the United States. 

Additionally, your case was further complicated by the fact that the bullet used to shoot you was designed to shatter on impact. Ruling out the possibility of forensic tracing and making the doctor's jobs harder due to the extensive internal damage. It all was a lot but you would be okay and that was all that Shuri needed to hear.

“I will give you your space.” Was all Aneka said before she slipped out of the room, going to stand guard outside. There was a formalness in the way Aneka spoke that she hadn’t used before keying the queen in that her outburst from earlier had some effects on their dynamic. A small twinge of guilt ate at her, she would need to apologize but right now was not the time.

Right now all of her focus was on you, carefully tucking one of your locs behind your ear as she stood over you. You looked beautiful even now. It reminded her of the times when she couldn’t fall back asleep in the middle of the night, so she would turn and watch you. In awe of the way your eyelids fluttered and your chest raised slowly with every breath. You were a work of art in her eyes, something that even the best painters couldn’t have created. You were the reason she knew Bast had to exist because she was sure you were too beautiful to have been created by a human.

Shuri opened her kimoyo beads and read your vitals one more time before deciding that waking up to her looming over you wasn’t the best idea. She took a seat in the recliner chair next to your bed, kicking her feet up onto the bed next to yours. Knowing it was just a matter of time before the anesthesia wore off the queen opened kimoyo beads and started reading through the information that had been gathered on Liam Drockers.  

Fifteen minutes later Shuri heard the first indicator that you were awake, a groan that you tried to form into words came out slowly. Shuri immediately set the journal down and jumped to your side.

“Hey hey hey sthandwa, have some water first hmm?” Tentatively Shuri brought the straw up to your lips. “You are probably dehydrated and your throats dry, take it easy.” Even though your eyes were trained on the cup of water that you greedily sucked down, you managed to bring them up to shoot Shuri a roll of your eyes.

When you finally finished Shuri pulled the straw out of your mouth and you leaned back into your pillows trying to catch your breath.

Who knew drinking water could be so tiresome? 

Shuri leaned your bed forward so you could sit up, worried that you would somehow choke on all the water you had just downed.

Once you caught your breath you opened your mouth to speak, “Are you okay?” It came out gravelly but still, Shuri could hear it nonetheless.

“Am I okay? Umfazi wam, (My wife,) I am not the one in the hospital bed right now. Are you okay?” The way Shuri posed the question back to you had you swallowing hard.

What was the answer? Did you feel the best? hell fucking no. Underneath the grogginess you felt was an unrelenting buzz of pain, not enough to cause you true discomfort, but enough to let you know that everything was not right within you. But you knew Shuri well enough to tell right now hearing that you were not okay wouldn’t do anything but further stress her out. Whatever had happened in the time between being shot and waking up clearly was taking a toll on her and the last thing you wanted to do was add more to that.

“I feel fine enough considering.” You assured with a small smile. That little smile sent a wave of calm washing over Shuri, it was a sight at one point she wondered if she’d ever see again.

“Do you need anything? I brought you down a change of clothes but I think we should wait until you’ve got some more of your strength back. Your hair oils here too, I figured before you go to bed I could oil your scalp for you. I’ve never done it before but I think I’ve watched you enough times to know.” Listening to Shuri babble on softly about the things she’d done for you only made your smile widen, she was so attentive to you. The care she displayed almost reminded you of how Yara was before she got sick.

Yara, Josiah, Genelia, your family, shit. 

One of the machines you were hooked up to started beeping faster indicating your heart rate was increasing. Shuri looked down at you, worried that maybe she had overwhelmed you with too much too early. “Or I don’t have to oil your scalp, I was just suggesting it. I-”

“No Shuri, that's not it. Have you,” How exactly does one ask a question like this?

Have you told the media that I was shot to garner support for our relationship and goals? No, definitely not right. Did you let the public know about an extremely vulnerable moment in my life to make them more empathetic to our relationship? Yeah, you were getting farther from what you were hoping for at this point.

Your worries surrounding asking made the question fall from your lips sheepishly. “Have you said anything about this,” You gestured down to your body, “Publicly? It's okay if you did, it’s just I wanna be able to let my family hear that I’m okay you know. My siblings and everything I wouldn’t want them to think I abandoned them, again.”

The nervous tone in your voice gave your wife pause, she hadn’t heard you falter like that before. Shuri sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hands in hers. “Of course not sthandwa. I gave clear orders that nothing comes out about this until you are ready, whenever that is. I didn’t say anything to your family in all honesty because I didn’t know if you wanted me to, I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

You squeezed Shuri’s hands in yours, “Thank you.”

“Of course mtuwam. (my person.) Now how about the oil?” You nodded your head eagerly, grateful that you had been blessed with such an amazing person.

The next hour you spent in Shuri’s arms. After a lot of convincing, Shuri finally agreed to sit behind you in the hospital bed, so that your back was directly in front of her chest. Your wife hummed a song to herself as she guided the oil across your scalp, rubbing gently as she finished each section. When she finished she guided you back so that all of your weight lay on her chest, your head resting on her. At that moment the hum of pain running through your body stopped, the sound of her heartbeat steadied you and her soft breathing felt like a comforting breeze. You were home.

But home could never truly hide you from bad news could it? People always found a way to disturb your peace for their own gain, no matter how low the blow was. Thats why when Aneka came into the room with a stern look on her face you knew it was some form of bad news was about to fall from her lips.

“My queens, I hate to disturb you but I figured you should see this as soon as possible.” Launching a projection from her kimoyo beads, a photo of you and Shuri with the First Lady and President from your recent visit popped up with a tweet attached.

@FLOTUSMALLORY:

We are devastated to hear about the unfortunate shooting of Queen Y/N Y/L/N Udaku. Our prayers are with the Wakandan First Family and the entire country as they rake the time they need to recover.

Taglist: @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku​ @lppriceisright​

[the-type-a]

omg imagine an au with duncney as actors playing love interests in a movie… (i apologize in advance bc this is pretty long)

and the movie doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic movie it could be any genre and they don’t both have to be the main actors they could just be side characters with important roles, with other td characters acting in the movie, BUT i was thinking that it could be a romance movie with them as the main characters and it would be like;

- courtney is a well known actress who is very passionate about acting. she auditions for this romance movie and gets casted, obviously

- duncan is a less well known actor compared to courtney. his agents convince him to audition for this movie because it could gain him more popularity

- duncan gets the role of the main lead. however, he is NOT enthusiastic about it at all because he hates chick flicks.

- because of this, courtney is under the impression that he doesn’t take acting seriously, that he’s an industry plant or whatever, and that she had to work her ass off to get to where she is today meanwhile this completely unserious guy just gets roles handed to him on a silver platter

- she calls him out on his lack of enthusiasm which causes them to start having beef, non stop bickering on set blah blah blah you can imagine the rest

- he would tease her after kiss scenes, he would say stuff like “you were totally into that kiss” and she would tell him to shut up

- i dont have the creativity to imagine what would cause for this to happen but courtney opens up about her parents super high expectations of her ever since she was a kid (maybe she could have been a child actress, or a theatre kid) and hes like yeah my dads an asshole too. after this they put the beef aside and become amicable

- courtney catches feelings for duncan because she feels like hes the only person that appreciates her for her and not because of her fame and achievements. and duncan falls for courtney because well, shes courtney duh

- one day duncan keeps making mistakes which pisses the director off but courtney defends him and its at that moment that duncan realizes that he loves her

- after they both realize their feelings, they have to film a scene where they make out and they’re both super into it and completely forgetting that it’s just for a movie. and then the camera guy says cut and praises the both of them and says something like “that was some great acting it really felt like you two were in love” and after that it’s SUPER awkward between the both of them

So now i dont really have any other ideas left but I would LOVE to hear your take on this!

Oh, I absolutely LOVE this 🤭

Ngl I got a little Notebook vibes from it because Ryan and Rachel hated each other while filming but then ended up dating sooo yes I can definitely see this happening with Duncney.

I love the idea of them coming to terms with their feelings and just being able to express it without actually having to confront the other about it (in this setting). It just makes it so funny and so entertaining because just imagine their inner dialogues having to do that make out scene 😮‍💨

Don’t even get me started on their thoughts when they aren’t really on good terms. They would absolutely hate admitting the other is a good kisser lmao

If you have more ideas for this please lmk because I’m hooked and there only HCS, I would 100% read this if you decided to make it a fic!

[all-pacas]

Can you give us some more bcu headcanons please?

pffff do i have headcanons? luckily, i'm great at bullshitting, so:

at a certain point it becomes easier for cameron and chase to pretend to be a normal and functional and not bitterly divorced couple. they slide right into denial and functional cosplay. internally they're 100% freaking out and in a weird way this. this is bonding for them. they know they're freaking out and they know they want to act normal and so in a way they can kind of … bond over this. they were always pretty good at coasting in their relationship. they can give one another pep talks (while not at all focusing on why they need pep talks).

cameron, at least, is probably a little Traditional TM. she thinks it would be nice to name the baby after family, or give them a significant middle name or something. chase is pretty strongly against this idea, mostly because the very idea of bringing anyone in his family into this gives him hives. so the idea really goes nowhere (because cameron's parents have deeply normie midwestern names. like. linda and earl or something. and she's like………no). (chase does — purely out of trollishness — probably suggest house. not greg. house.) (cameron at least briefly considered her Dead Husband as a name source but knew better than to mention that.)

house absolutely fires chase's ass at some point in like. the third trimester. cuddy intervenes, but chase ends up quitting anyway: if he mentally struggles way more with the pregnancy, he adjusts way better when the baby is actually born, if only because from a purely medical standpoint — and a life experience standpoint — he knows how to deal with infants. cameron, meanwhile, saves her guilt breakdown for after the birth, and throws herself into work out of guilt/avoidance/haha no i can't stay home i'm scheduled :( - so chase gets fired/quits and it kind of works out. (eventually he probably works for house again, and house enjoys the hell out of threatening to fire him a third time)

cameron offers/suggests that the baby should take chase's name. this is absolutely a bribe/appeasement, she didn't change her name when they got married and was never going to, and hyphenating is out of the question because their names do not combine well, but chase probably assumed it was 'baby cameron.' i don't think he cares all that much in terms of carrying on the family name or whatever (see: daddy issues), but he's definitely susceptible to that kind of appeasement/flattery/oh she's doing this for me uwu

they don't do formal godparents or anything (most of their friends are lowkey keep this toxic mess awaaaaay), but if they had to pick two it would be cuddy and foreman. (cuddy is also a pragmatic choice. deep down chase would like to ask house but he knows better.)

there's no Dean Cameron in this au but she and cuddy absolutely bond and share baby tips and cuddy gives her some of rachel's old things and they do playdates and go straight into Slightly Crunchy Mom Friend territory lmao. cuddy is probably the only person who is openly happy for them (or, if everyone else is 60% 😬 and 40% happy, she's 60% happy and 40% 😬) so that helps a lot lol

cameron's normie parents are really happy she finally gave them a grandkid!!! however:

when the kid is a bit older they decide to take a family trip to australia and normie grandparents are like 😬 that's so far away that's so dangerous and exotic like "visiting the large city where chase grew up" is the far off hinterlands or toddlers explode if put in airplanes or something

the kid takes after cameron in terms of looks. house makes a lot of jokes about how it's a shame they didn't get the prettiness genes

willing to hold and play with the baby: cuddy, taub, thirteen, wilson

has held the baby and found it very uncomfortable: foreman

has never been in the same room as the baby: house